A Man of Honor

by Miranda Liasson

  The Kingston family was important to him. Preston was a man of honor. He would work this out.

  “Your brother’s friendship is important to me.”

  “That’s between you and him. Leave me out of it.”

  “Honey, you were in it the moment you put that trench coat on and started vamping it up. And let’s face it, if Derrick gets upset with you, it will ruin the next week for everyone.” He paused a good while. “Remember the cowboy?”

  Cat surprised him again by laughing. She remembered Derrick’s reaction to their sister Maddie’s deadbeat ex-fiancé as clearly as he did. He was a fiercely protective big brother to both his younger sisters. “Derrick drove all night until he caught up with him in Abalone. We never did find out what he did to him.”

  “Whatever it was, he never showed his face around here again.”

  Cat sighed. “Look, Preston. I don’t want to pretend to date you. And I wouldn’t mind if my brother roughed you up a little.” He knew her well enough to detect a softening in her voice.

  “We’ll be at all the same events,” he said. “You don’t have a date for the wedding, do you?”

  “I would rather take my grandmother than have to go with you. Besides, I’m working on getting my own.”

  “I’ve heard all about your dating disasters.”

  “I haven’t met someone normal yet,” she said defensively.

  “I can find you a real man to date.” As soon as the words slipped out, he broke out in a sweat. Why the hell had he just said that? This was going from bad to worse. Bad enough he’d have to pretend to date her until the wedding, and worse because he just volunteered to help her do something he wanted to do about as much as he enjoyed eating peas.

  “What? You?”

  Oh, hell. “I’d venture to say that almost anyone could do a better job of finding you a match than you.”

  “You know nothing about how I pick boyfriends. Besides, I basically wouldn’t even be talking to you right now if it weren’t for this wedding.”

  “Unfortunately, I know a lot because you told me a lot. Let’s review. There was the government worker who locked all his valuables in a safe every night before going to bed, and when he got pissed at you, he threw your car keys in there and wouldn’t give them back.”

  “I loved that safe. It was so…secure.”

  “Then there was the guy with OCD who checked the car locks ten times every time he got behind the wheel.”

  “He was concerned about my safety. And I didn’t mind driving. Really.”

  “Then there was the thirty-five-year-old who still lived with his mother and loved it because she ironed his shirts every morning and made his lunch.”

  “I didn’t think he’d expect that from me once we started dating.”

  Preston snorted. “And what about the guy who was afraid to fly? Or the one who kept track of all his calories and cholesterol on his phone and would never eat dessert? Shall I go on?” He spared her the embarrassment of mentioning that pussy Robert, her actuary fiancé, whose job was calculating risk for insurance companies. He spent his spare time doing that in his own life, too—and Cat hadn’t beat the odds.

  “I’m surprised you even listened.”

  Oh, he’d listened all right. He’d clung to every word that came out of that gorgeous mouth. During those dark months overseas, she was his lifeline to normalcy. Every goofy tidbit meant he could think of her and the normal problems of everyday life instead of being in hell. He’d wanted to know every fascinating detail about her, and she’d told it all with a self-deprecating humor he loved.

  “So I’m averse to risk,” she said. “What’s wrong with that?”

  Part of him wanted to shake her. You deserve so much more. Someone who appreciates every detail about you. Instead he said, “Being safe gets you nothing. Haven’t you heard the expression ‘If you do what you’ve always done, you get what you’ve always got’?”

  He heard a creak, as if she were shifting her weight anxiously. He was getting to her. Good. It was the least he could do. Help her to see she deserved more than those idiots who didn’t appreciate her.

  “What makes you think you’ve got all the answers, mister? I don’t see you having a great track record on relationships.”

  “This isn’t about me. I’ve told you from the beginning, I don’t do relationships.” He’d never lied to her about that, but until his injury, she was the first and only woman who’d ever made him want to try to escape the baggage of his upbringing. “I match companies with the right people to lead them. In fact, while I’m here, I’m helping your dad find the next CEO for Kingston Shoes. Based on qualifications, personality…it’s the same process with the right boyfriend. I’ll help you find the right guy so that after the wedding, you can tell your brother you’ve found someone better than me, and both our problems are solved.”

  Easy peasy. Even as Preston said it, he mentally smacked himself. How had he gotten himself into this mess? He was usually so controlled. He had a will of steel, discipline, and he almost always did the right thing under duress. Yet he hadn’t been in the same room with her for more than five minutes, and he’d snapped.

  “Look,” he said. “I should have been honest with you up front. Let me try to make it up to you. I want us to go back to being friends, Cat.”

  “You want to be friends.”

  “We help each other through the next week, then after the wedding we go our separate ways. Deal?”

  “I don’t need your help finding a boyfriend, but if I have to play along, I won’t stop you from introducing me to potential candidates. By the way, I’m doing this for Maddie’s sake, not for you to save face with my brother.”

  She sounded as untrusting as a three-year-old on the first day of preschool. Helping her would be a good thing. He’d see her settled, with someone worthy of her, something he could never be. Then he could move on with his life knowing he’d at least done her some good.

  Who was he kidding? Staying away from her would have been hard enough. Pretending to date her while pushing her away, even harder. But finding her another guy while he still wanted her so badly—well, that was going to be just plain hell.

  He might be able to solve her problems, but his were only beginning.

  Chapter Three

  “It’s too overstimulating in here,” Cat said as she balanced on a step stool in the kindergarten classroom and gingerly lifted a square tile from the drop-down ceiling. She tucked in a green string of yarn and replaced the square, then leaned back to admire the bright pink construction paper flower that now twirled there along with fifty others hanging all over the room.

  “The kids enjoy seeing all their artwork hanging.” Her best friend Finn handed her another paper flower from a large pile on a nearby desk.

  “‘All’ being the key word.” Cat looked around the very busy room. “It’s not only dangling from the ceiling but also pinned on the bulletin boards and taped on every square inch of the walls. I suppose you would think it was charming. You’re the principal. You don’t have to be in here all day.”

  Finn narrowed her eyes and gave Cat an assessing look. “It’s not like you to complain about children’s artwork.”

  “I guess I’m just a little nervous,” Cat said, adding another string to the collection.

  “These kids are little doe-eyed angels. What’s not to love? Keep ’em busy, and they’ll be fine. ”

  “They’ll sense I don’t know a thing about being a teacher. They’ll smell fear.”

  Finn rolled her eyes. “You love kids and crafts and music and everything that goes on in a classroom. What’s really bothering you? Don’t tell me it’s a roomful of five-year-olds you have to keep an eye on for a few hours.”

  Cat climbed down, heaving a heavy sigh. She couldn’t put anything past Finn, didn’t know why she even tried. She’d been happy to accept the job of substitute teaching the kindergarten while their teacher was away. Since she’d lost her job as a journalis
t at the Philadelphia Inquirer last fall and moved home, she’d been doing a lot of temp work in Charlotte and for her dad’s company. Sick of sitting behind a desk pushing paperwork, she’d put in an application with the school a few months ago and gotten fingerprinted and passed the background check, so she was all set.

  In a weird way she was quite excited about it. Watching the kids was definitely not the problem. “Preston is predatory and unpleasant. And annoying. And arrogant.” Now she was on a roll. “Despite all that’s happened, he’s still so damned impossible.”

  “Honestly, Cat,” Finn said, “with a stunt like what you pulled the other night, how could you expect anything else?” Cat felt herself turning redder than the bright cardboard apples, each holding letters of the alphabet that ran in a row across the top of the chalkboard. “Preston did reject you, didn’t he?”

  Cat remembered the feel of his lips on her mouth, her skin, her breasts. As if he’d been memorizing every inch of her, touch by butterfly touch, as his tongue traced a fiery pathway down her skin. Those lips definitely didn’t feel like a rejection. “He didn’t have to. My brother walked in.”

  “Um, walked in on what?”

  “I might have been straddling his lap kissing him. With my shirt a little undone.”

  “No way.” The pile of paper flowers pitched to the floor, and Finn bent to retrieve them. Cat knelt down to help.

  “Preston took full responsibility in front of Derrick. Tried to blame the predicament on himself.”

  “Hmm. That’s chivalrous. Then what happened?”

  “He told me he was out of line because of his pain pills.”

  She raised a discriminating brow. “That’s a new one.”

  “Here’s the thing. What if he’s been lying all this time? To protect me from himself? My sister says she’s seen this in her OB practice—when people go through a traumatic event like losing a baby, they can tend to push the people they love away. Maybe it’s like that for him, too. What with his leg and going to war and—”

  Finn snorted. She put down the string and the scissors and shook Cat by the shoulders. “You’ve been reading way too many romance novels. We promised to always tell it like it is to each other, right?” She waited for Cat’s cautious nod. “You’ve got to give him up. He’s not interested. You never even slept with him, right? So stop now before you make a fool of yourself.”

  Cat closed her eyes, letting Finn’s words rain down around her like a shower of tacks, hard and pointy and prickly. The truth really sucked.

  “Oh, Cat.” Pity rang out loud and strong in Finn’s voice. “You’re so loyal, and you believe the best about everyone. The fact remains, the guy dumped you. He doesn’t want to have anything more to do with you. This crazy scheme you two have concocted is just going to be more hell for you to live through.”

  “I’m over him.” No, she wasn’t. The other night proved it. “I’m just angry, because I really believed there was something special between us. I could’ve sworn he felt it, too.”

  “You’re tenacious. And you don’t give up easily. Which usually serves you well.”

  Giving up didn’t come easy, probably because she had had to fight so hard for everything as a sickly kid with asthma, which she’d fortunately outgrown.

  “Remember Mrs. Hanigan? She never gave you stars for your handwriting. She told you you’d never have nice cursive writing. Remember what you did?”

  “Practiced on a whiteboard until I got it. Come on, that was third grade.”

  “You practiced for months, and your handwriting is now beautiful. What about at the Inquirer? You didn’t make beat reporter, so you did all the human-interest stuff they wanted and more. People cried over the stories you wrote. They donated tons of money to people in need.”

  “That was all for a good cause.”

  “And it got you a promotion.”

  “Which I had for two weeks before being axed with the downsize.”

  “The point is, most of the time, your perseverance is a great trait, but sometimes it’s harmful. You could’ve dumped Robert long before he dumped you, but you’d gotten engaged and felt bad backing out of a commitment. And I hate to say this, but that crush you had on Preston lasted for years.”

  Cat looked her best friend in the eye. “That was in high school. This isn’t the same.”

  “Thank God. Remember when you made me come with you to toilet paper his house during football season, and his dad came after us with a shotgun?”

  Cat cringed a little. She didn’t want to remember the past. “Last fall was different. The emails, the Skype chats…I can’t explain it. For the first time, I felt we were really on the same page.”

  “Could it have just been rebound? You were so lost after Robert left.”

  “The fact that I said good-bye to Robert is a relief. Preston is more of a—heartache.” She caught herself pressing on her chest, as if it actually did hurt deep down inside there.

  Finn just stood there, looking at her and slowly shaking her head.

  Cat twirled a bright pink-and-green flower she’d just hung and tried to smile. “I’m pretty screwed up, aren’t I?”

  “You’re just lonely. Plus, weird shit happens around weddings. And he’s a wounded warrior. You’ve always had a take-care-of-people complex.”

  “Have not.”

  “How many dogs and cats have you rescued in the past five years?”

  “Those are wounded animals, not people.”

  “Be careful, okay? I’d like to see you leave him behind once and for all and find a mature relationship where you’re not a caregiver. Hopefully with someone a little risky. Maybe that’s what you need, a good old-fashioned fling to help you get your mind off these bad men.”

  “I could never—”

  A knock on the door stopped the discussion. Cat turned to see a familiar face in the clear pane of the door. Preston’s face. Before she could blink twice, the door opened, and he walked into the classroom.

  Cat’s pulse ran rampant at the sight of him. The stark black of his suit and his crisp white shirt contrasted sharply with all the primary colors surrounding them. His six-feet-two height dwarfed the tiny tables and chairs. He cut a fine figure, with lean but muscular legs in suit pants that were loose enough to hide his brace, and she barely noticed the shuffle she was coming to recognize as his norm. The clean, powerful lines of his looks were topped off by his close-cropped dark hair, styled in a no-nonsense haircut indicative of a man who had no time or desire to preen over his appearance. Yet another trait she loved.

  She. Was. Screwed. Up. Totally.

  She tried to focus on all his bad traits. Stubborn, obstinate, unattainable. Damn her traitorous body for reacting to a guy who didn’t deserve her attention, or desire, or wanting.

  “What are you doing here?” Cat blurted. Her face flushed uncomfortably. She was never that blunt, or rude. She cleared her throat and gave it another go. “What I mean is, it’s a surprise to see you.”

  Preston set his leather briefcase down on a table and chuckled. “I’m meeting with Finn today about an upcoming talk for the middle schoolers about patriotism. The office told me she was down here.” He smiled, a perfectly imperfect smile that made her go weak in the knees.

  Finn hugged him. “I’m glad you’re back. Thanks for offering to talk with the kids.”

  Cat shot her friend a traitorous look. Why hadn’t she told her?

  Preston slowly scanned the classroom, surveying the whole setup, and eyed the artwork in Cat’s hand. She wondered if that was how he was in combat, silently sizing everything up like an animal that catches the scent of its prey, then homes in. He focused his stunning blue eyes on her, making her heart stutter under his perusal. “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “The kindergarten teacher’s daughter just had a baby, and she’s visiting her in Ohio for a week. Finn needed a substitute.”

  “You always liked working with kids.”

  Yes, she did. But she’d c
hosen to go into journalism instead of teaching, and she was out of a job. She was helping Finn out this week until she could set up more job interviews besides the one she had in Charlotte on Wednesday. Plus, she needed the money. Plus, her future was a mess, but there was no use bringing any of that up.

  Finn’s cell phone went off. She handed the last of the paper flowers to Cat and took the call. In a minute, she held the phone against her chest. “Your kindergarten assistant, Mrs. McCarthy, just called off. You’re on your own today. Are you okay with that?”

  No! Absolutely not. Six hours of being preyed on by five-year-olds alone, without help, on her first day? Cat’s nerves edged up the scale into full-blown panic zone. “Of course” somehow fumbled out of her stupid, stupid mouth. The one that was somehow smiling, even as she was telling herself over and over to calm down, calm down. And think positive thoughts. Glancing out the windows, she finally found one. If all else failed, the classroom was on the first floor. She could always escape through the windows.

  “You’ll do fine,” Finn said. “If you have any problems, just push the intercom button.”

  Cat nodded. “Got it.” She would never appear weak in front of Preston even if it killed her, but she had to hold herself back from grabbing at Finn and pleading for reinforcements, any kind. She’d even take the grannies from the lunch line. How was she going to survive a room of twenty-plus rambunctious kids all day when she didn’t even know their names?

  “I’ve got to get back to the office,” Finn said. “Preston, see you there in a few minutes?”

  Preston gave a silent nod as Finn continued her call and left the room. Then he turned to Cat. He silently took the string from her hands, his fingers grazing hers, and easily raised the ceiling panel above their heads. Silently, he finished inserting the rest of the flowers. His nearness discombobulated her, and every touch of his hand sent little electric vibes all through her arm. It also gave her a great view of his lean torso, his strong arms, and his broad shoulders as he reached upward to anchor the flowers. She caught a whiff of his cologne, some manly, exotic scent she’d probably sniffed between the pages of Cosmo that signaled gorgeous hunk of sexy man and couldn’t have been more dead-on as far as she was concerned.