The Heiress and the Mechanic: San Diego Social Scene Book 5

by Tess Summers

  He’s getting married when he just asked me to get back together with him not more than two months ago?

  Harper tried to mask her surprise in order not to give Tyler’s aunt any satisfaction. Jan had to have known Harper wasn’t aware her ex was getting remarried.

  “What a coincidence,” her grandmother began cattily, but Harper gave her a look that shut her down.

  “A coincidence?” Jan crooned. “Oh, sweetheart, are you getting married too?”

  No way was she going to give this dreadful woman the scoop. But Stephanie Dufresne hadn’t reached her social status without being able to think fast on her feet.

  “No, just what a coincidence you’re here when Harper decided to join us for brunch. How’s José? Is he here today?”

  “Dr. Monciviaz had to go into the hospital this morning. It never fails when he’s on call.”

  Jan had recently married a doctor, something she took every opportunity to remind people of. She thought it brought her a certain status. Unfortunately, nothing could overcome the fact that the woman was a busybody bitch.

  And now Harper didn’t have to feel guilty about not telling Tyler about Ben. She’d told Lauren she didn’t owe her ex anything, but there had been a niggling bit of doubt in the back of her mind that she should tell him.

  “It was so good to see you, Harper,” Jan gushed, giving them the impression she was leaving. Instead, with laser-like focus, she turned her attention to Ben.

  “And who might you be?”

  “Ben McCallister,” her sexy fiancé said, offering his hand.

  “Are you a friend of Harper’s?”

  Her grandfather intervened this time.

  “He’s a friend of mine. I wanted to introduce him to my granddaughter.”

  She looked at her sly fox of a granddad with a grin, and he winked at her in return. Mark Dufresne loathed nosy gossips even more than his granddaughter.

  Ben seemed to have caught on and was watching the whole scene with amusement, adding to it when Jan asked, “So what do you do, Ben?”

  “I—uh, I’m a dog walker.”

  “Oh, not just a dog walker.” Mark chimed in, clearly enjoying this. “He owns his own dog walking business. He has two dog walking locations and is looking for a third to offer his dog walking services all over San Diego.”

  She knew her grandfather kept repeating dog walking just because he was sure it was horrifying the woman.

  “Oh,” Jan said, trying to keep her composure. “That’s… interesting.”

  “I’d give you a business card but I’m all out. But keep me in mind should you require a dog walker.”

  “I’ll definitely do that,” Jan said, then scurried off.

  Her grandmother leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Did you see that? She couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

  “You should have told her about your engagement—that would have really gotten her tongue wagging,” her grandfather added.

  “I don’t want her knowing even the minutest detail about my life that she can turn around and gossip about,” Harper declared. “Let alone something as important as my engagement.” They all nodded in understanding, and she added with a smirk, “To a tattooed, bearded dog walker.”

  “Can you imagine Colin’s face if he heard that?” Mark laughed.

  Her daddy was going to flip out as it was.

  To put it bluntly, her father was a snob. She knew he’d see Ben as a miscreant with tattoos and dirty fingernails. It wouldn’t matter that he owned multiple shops and was continuing to expand, or that he treated Colin Finch’s daughter like a queen. No, her daddy would decide that Ben wouldn’t be able to do anything for him—socially, with his business, or otherwise—so he’d be written off.

  Not to mention, Colin was still rooting for Tyler. After her divorce, her father still treated Tyler like a son, and between that and his infidelity to her mother, his opinion didn’t hold near as much weight with Harper as it once had.

  “No, I can’t. I think his head would explode.”

  “Don’t give me any ideas,” her pop grumbled.

  “Marcus,” her nana chided.

  “What?”

  Stephanie gave Ben an embarrassed smile.

  “He’s usually better behaved than this.”

  Harper and Mark spoke at the same time.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “I think I’m going to like being part of this family,” Ben said with a grin.

  ****

  Ben

  He’d liked Mark Dufresne when he met him on Thursday. After brunch today, he really liked the man, and Stephanie seemed to be his perfect match. Ben wasn’t lying when he’d said he was going to like being a part of their family; they were a riot.

  “When do you want to get married?” he’d asked Scout on the ride home.

  “I don’t know. Maybe next June?”

  “June? That’s eleven months away.”

  “Well, you said you wanted a big wedding. That takes some time to plan.”

  “So if I said something small, we could do it sooner?”

  “Probably.”

  “How soon?” he asked as he cast a sideways glance at her. She was sitting relaxed in the passenger seat.

  “I don’t know. December? January?”

  “How about Thanksgiving weekend?”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “We could probably do that. Depends on how small you’re talking.”

  “What about a Halloween wedding? That would be fun.”

  “No,” she said emphatically.

  Thanksgiving weekend it is.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Ben

  He walked into his new house late Wednesday evening and was met by Honey, who was accompanied by a black-and-white freckle-faced springer spaniel. The two seemed to already be best friends.

  “Hey, when did you get here?” Ben rhetorically asked the pup as he knelt down to pet and examine him.

  Harper appeared by the counter and observed the two spaniels vying for Ben’s affection.

  “Luke brought him by about an hour ago. He’s already made himself at home. Honey has shown him how to use the doggy door, and they’ve been playing since he walked in.”

  “That’s great. It sounds like he’s going to work out?”

  “So far, so good.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “His foster family named him Pongo.”

  “Pongo?” Ben scowled. “He’s not a Dalmatian. He’s going to have an identity crisis.”

  “Well, he already knows Pongo, and he’s spotted like a Dalmatian, so unless you want to retrain him, that’s what we’re calling him.”

  Every time they said the pup’s name, he tilted his head.

  “I see what you mean,” Ben laughed, then said their names together, like he was testing them out. “Honey and Pongo… Pongo and Honey… I guess it works.”

  “Are you hungry? There’s a lasagna in the oven.”

  “Lasagna, huh?”

  “Oh, don’t look at me. Marie made it when she came today.”

  Marie was Harper’s housekeeper/cook, who kept his fiancée sane and relaxed. Ben remembered growing up with a mom who worked all day, then came home and cooked and cleaned up after her family. She was always frazzled. Marie was worth every cent and then some. He didn’t understand why every working woman—or man—didn’t have a housekeeper. Ben had a woman who came in once a month to tackle things he didn’t feel like doing, like bathrooms—but he used to eat out a lot and work a lot, so his place didn’t get that dirty and was easy for him to manage. He and Scout were home a lot more than he used to be.

  “It smells good. The woman knows how to cook.”

  “Yes, she does, too well,” Harper said, patting her stomach. “I hope I can fit into my ball gown on Saturday. I haven’t worked out since meeting a certain sexy, tattooed, Harley-riding, bearded mechanic.”

  Ben slipped his ar
m around her waist.

  “Oh, baby girl, you’ve been getting your cardio in. There’s more than one way to get your heart rate up.”

  She smiled up at him demurely.

  “You certainly know how to get my heart pumping.”

  He squeezed her ass and continued his conversation.

  “Speaking of the ball… I need to pick up my tux from the cleaners tomorrow. It’s on the way to Barrio, so I thought we could just pick it up before dinner with Lauren.”

  “I’ll try to remember to remind you—but no promises.”

  Releasing his grip from her bottom, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  “Don’t worry about it—I’ll set a reminder in my phone.”

  “My future husband is so smart and organized,” she said with a wink.

  “Smart? I’m a fucking genius. I’m marrying you, aren’t I?”

  Putting her arms around his neck and nuzzling into his chest, she murmured, “Mmm, yes you are.”

  “In November.”

  “November. We probably should decide on a venue and see if it’s available.”

  “What about on the beach at Cassie and Luke’s place? Then we could have the reception on their patio.”

  “First of all, I would never dream of imposing on our friends like that.”

  He started to interrupt but she held her finger up so she could finish her thought.

  “Second of all, San Diego is chilly in November. An outdoor venue would be uncomfortable. I hate being cold. My body doesn’t regulate its temperature so easily anymore.”

  “Is that why the heat seems to tire you out, too?”

  “A little. But I can handle the heat a lot better than I can the cold. My body shivers so much it exhausts me.”

  Ben kissed her forehead and chuckled, “Well, lucky for you, you’ve got me to keep you warm now.”

  “I am so lucky,” Harper agreed in a breathy whisper and hugged his middle tight.

  That made two of them.

  ****

  Harper

  Dinner with Lauren had gone just like she knew it would. Her best friend saw how well Ben treated Harper and gave her approval without reservation.

  “I love how happy he makes you,” Lauren said, her eyes following Ben as he walked to the men’s room. Finally, she looked back at her best friend and smiled. “I’ve never seen you this happy. Ever. And I love how attentive he is—his arm is always protectively around your chair, and when he asked if you were cold and helped you put your sweater on, I about lost it—it was so fucking sickeningly adorable.”

  “Well, you can’t lose it. You have to be my maid of honor.”

  “I would be honored to be your maid of honor.” She snickered. “Have you picked a date?”

  “The Saturday after Thanksgiving—provided we can find a venue.”

  “I’m sure between your father’s connections and your boss’s, you’ll be able to find something.”

  Harper grimaced at the mention of her dad.

  “What?” Lauren asked. “What’s with that look?”

  “I haven’t told my parents yet. I don’t know how they’re going to take it.”

  “Why? Your daddy can’t possibly think there’s a chance you and Tyler will get back together.”

  “I think he’s still holding out hope—although, according to Aunt Jan, Tyler is engaged.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes and bit out sarcastically, “I’m sure she’s a Rhodes scholar.”

  “Without a doubt,” Harper cattily agreed.

  “Anyway, your daddy…”

  But Ben returned just then and slid in the booth next to Harper, and their conversation was tabled for another time.

  ****

  “Delilah is a witch, that’s all there is to it,” Cassie said as she looked at her reflection in Brenna’s closet mirror. Harper had just helped her zip up the royal blue ball gown she’d purchased from Delilah’s Dress Shop, and the beautiful blonde slowly twirled around, looking at herself from every angle. “I walked in, told her I needed a dress for the WWP Ball, and she circled around me with her finger on her lips for about a minute and then disappeared. Then reappeared two minutes later with—voila! The perfect dress.”

  Delilah was famous for her ability to match women with just the right dress. It was almost her trademark.

  Cassie continued, “I mean—look at the three of us.” The three stood shoulder-to-shoulder, thoughtfully looking back at their reflection. They did look beautiful. “We look like our dresses were tailor-made for each one of us, and they’re off the rack.”

  “She does have a gift,” Harper agreed.

  “You should have seen the wedding dress Delilah found for Brenna… ooh!” Cassie grabbed Harper’s elbow as the thought hit her. “You should have her find your wedding dress! And your bridesmaidsss.” She drew out the final ‘s’ in bridesmaids. “It will be plural right? I’m going to be one of your bridesmaids, aren’t I?”

  “Cassandra Jo!” her sister admonished. “You can’t invite yourself to be in someone’s wedding. That’s so gauche. Good grief, woman. Who raised you?”

  Harper giggled at Cassie’s sheepish expression.

  “It’s okay,” she assured both women, then smiled warmly at Cassie. “Of course I was going to ask you to be a bridesmaid.”

  Cassie clapped her hands and hopped up and down as much as she could in her high heels. “Yes! I’m so excited! I will throw you the best bridal shower ever!”

  “That’s not necessary—” Cassie made a shushing noise, but Harper persisted. “It’s my second marriage. I think a shower would be tacky.”

  “Her mama raised her right,” Brenna said with a smirk.

  Cassie stuck her tongue out at Brenna—something Harper had seen her do on more than one occasion. She truly was the little sister.

  “It doesn’t have to be a traditional shower… it can be a different kind; like a ‘fill the honeymoon treasure chest’ kind. Lingerie, toys, floggers, blindfolds…”

  One corner of Brenna’s mouth went up while she shook her head. It was as if nothing her sister said could shock her anymore.

  “No. That would be utterly embarrassing.”

  “Oh, honey… do we have to have the ‘experimentation is healthy for a relationship’ talk?”

  “Ben and I experiment just fine, thank you. But I’m not having a dildo shower.”

  “We’ll see…” Cassie’s reply sounded more like a threat as they exited the huge walk-in closet with its built-in dressing area.

  “She’s going to be relentless,” Brenna warned quietly.

  Harper nodded her head; she already knew that.

  Just how does one even go about registering for a sex shower, anyway?

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Ben

  Scout descended the stairs at Brenna and Ron’s beach house, leaving him speechless—he’d never seen anyone more beautiful than his future bride. His cock was hard as a fucking rock in his tuxedo pants.

  “You are breathtaking,” he murmured when she finally reached the landing, and he could put his hands on her.

  “So are you,” she said as she snaked her fingers inside his jacket and hugged him—pressing her tits against his chest as she did. “You look sexy as sin in a tux, Mr. McCallister.”

  “Maybe we should just skip the ball,” he snarled suggestively in her ear. “And let me take you home so I can remove that dress with my teeth.”

  “I promise, you can do that when we get home—after we go to the ball.”

  He pretended to pout.

  “Fine, but we’re leaving early.”

  She grinned, and Ben badly wanted to kiss her. He bent his head, then stopped. He knew she’d just paid a lot of money to have her hair and makeup done; he should at least wait until they made it into the ballroom before smearing it.

  Looking down at her, he realized that would be no easy task.

  Fuck, she’s hot!

  Smoking hot. Her hair was curled and sty
led, and was complemented by the floor-length mint-green chiffon gown she was wearing, which clung to her every curve. The corset bodice was off the shoulder—drawing his attention to her amazing tits, which were peeking out—and he noticed she was taller than usual.

  Ben bit back a groan. He couldn’t wait to take her home and strip her out of everything but those heels. Those heels were going to be wrapped around his waist in less than two hours, if he had anything to say about it.

  “Maybe we can find a dark corner that I can fuck you in.”

  “Might I remind you that my boss is the title sponsor of this event, and the rest of the partners are going to be there as well. You will behave yourself, mister.”

  “It’s going to be so hard, baby girl.” He subtly pressed his cock against her and kissed her neck. “So, so hard. All night long.”

  “I promise, I’ll kiss it and make it all better,” she purred as she ran her fingers through his hair.

  “Ahem.”

  They looked over to see the two other couples standing by the door—ready to go, watching them with amusement.

  Sorry, not sorry.

  “You two lovebirds ready or you need another minute?” Luke quipped.

  “Well, yeah,” Ben said, “if you don’t mind; I’d love another few minutes…” then demonstratively returned his face to Harper’s neck.

  “Very funny, jackass. Let’s go. The bus is waiting.”

  They’d decided to take a party bus so they could all ride together and not have to worry about drinking. While the bus would be waiting at the end of the night to take them all home, Ben had already decided he and Harper were leaving early and getting an Uber.

  That had been his intention, anyway.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Harper

  This was her fifth WWP Ball; the first one she had attended had been with Tyler, and he’d created quite the buzz being there—which was no easy feat. It was the party of year in San Diego—a proverbial Who’s Who for the guest list. That was in part due to Travis’ generous sponsorship throughout the years, but mostly because of Frannie Ericson’s genius.

  Fran was Judge Ericson’s wife and—as it turned out—Travis’ mother-in-law, although she’d been working with Travis long before he met her daughter, Ava.