by Ginny Baird
As soon as he got rid of whoever the straggler was, he’d give in and call Brent. Maybe his wife, Hope, would be able to get him Meredith’s number. He intended to call and demand some answers. What had the infuriating woman said? Or maybe it hadn’t been her at all? Maybe one of her unhinged fans had started this rumor. But how did he get roped into it? He yanked open his front door, prepared to do battle with the paparazzi.
Then he froze at the sight of that cobalt blue convertible.
Meredith Galanes stepped out onto his gravel drive and his heart lurched. He’d had to put up with the woman for an entire week during Brent’s wedding last summer, and had hoped to never see her again. Yet, here she was, up close and personal, teetering in his direction in towering sandals and a flouncy dress, with her long dark curls bouncing behind her.
She held a large Crock-Pot in her hands, which she grasped with oven mitts. For an instant, it was hard to believe he was really seeing her and this wasn’t some kind of weird dream.
About Meredith? Not a chance.
“I can explain!” she said, traipsing toward his cabin.
This he had to hear. “Can’t wait.”
She approached his covered stoop, her spindly heels clack-clack-clacking against the flagstones hedged by flowering bushes. This was no dream. It was her, all right. In the flesh. And smelling like honeysuckle at the height of summer. Despite himself, he’d never forgotten her perfume, or, well…pretty much anything about her.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?”
She stared up at him with big, dark brown eyes and Derrick’s heart slammed against his chest.
“It was a simple mistake.”
“Simple? Your publicity posse was here not more than an hour ago.”
“Ah, um…yeah. About that.” She peered over his shoulder and into his empty living room. “Can we talk inside?”
“What are you even doing in Blue Hill?” he asked, not budging.
She smiled and shot him a flirty grin. “I came here to surprise you.”
Consider him surprised. And more than a little ticked off. What kind of nerve the woman had. “You’re not the first one today.”
She winced. “I heard.”
“And?”
She shoved her Crock-Pot under his nose in a peace offering. A delectable aroma wafted toward him. For the love of all things edible, it smelled just like a pot roast. A very delicious pot roast. Derrick hadn’t enjoyed a homecooked meal in months.
She pressed forward into his cabin and he inched back. “Hungry?”
“No.” Derrick’s stomach betrayed him with a rumble.
“Uh-huh. I brought this for dinner.”
Dinner? What?
“No, no, no…” he said. “You are no way—no how—staying—”
But, before he could finish, she used one of her shoes as a lever and kicked the door shut.
…
Meredith ogled the gorgeous man in front of her, working hard to remember her plan. Because Derrick Albright was most definitely gorgeous. Maybe even more so than when she’d seen him last. How was that even possible—or fair?
Stick to the plan.
Right.
She’d constructed her plan carefully during the drive from Boston. She just hadn’t counted on the paparazzi getting here first. She had no clue how they’d unearthed his name. Maybe there weren’t that many boatbuilders in these parts, particularly ones she’d come into contact with, and the Albright wedding last summer had made the society pages. Both she and Derrick had been listed as being in the wedding party. Her as the maid of honor and him as the best man, so there was a paper trail of their connection.
No matter. They could still pull this off. She just needed to get him on board.
The heavy Crock-Pot sagged in her grip. “Er…would you mind if I set this down?”
He spoke with unmasked sarcasm. “Make yourself at home.”
Derrick’s gaze tracked her, and she nearly tripped on her way to the kitchen. He had his arms folded across his broad chest and his T-shirt tugged against a six-pack, which was as flat as a board. Meredith locked her shaky knees, acting nonplussed. She’d almost forgotten how built the guy was, but she didn’t need to dwell on that now.
She set the Crock-Pot on the counter and turned toward him, steeling herself for her next move, but she sank under the weight of his stare.
“What was all that talk about a match made in heaven?” His eyes glinted dangerously and she backed up a step.
“Oh that,” she said with a wave. “That was just a little misunderstanding.”
“And the engagement part?”
She swallowed hard. “That one was bigger.”
“Meredith.”
“Okay. All right,” she relented. “I was kind of in a spot on this talk show—”
“Talk show?”
“Talk Time, yeah. With Tanya Gibbs.”
“That’s a real show?”
She frowned. “Of course it’s a real show. That’s where the whole thing started.”
“What thing?”
“My idea! To…to help you. The thing is Tanya totally got the wrong impression, then everything went off the rails. I guess they looked you up—and hunted you down, those media people, because they falsely believed that you I are together. Which isn’t a bad belief if you think about it. Not if it’s just for the short term and only pretend.”
He was shaking his head before she’d even had a chance to finish. Not a good sign. “Oh, no you don’t. I am not pretending anything with you. My family went through enough last time with my brother and your twin friends.”
“Hey!” she protested. “That turned out all right!”
Derrick scowled. “It was the getting there that hurt—just about everyone. You know that as well as I do, Mer.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t like it.” Didn’t help that he’d used it in that snide and superior way.
“Then I intend to.” He stepped forward. “A lot.”
Meredith bristled, recalling her greater ambitions. “I’m not talking about tricking your family. In fact, I insist they know the truth. I’m just asking you to play along with this in public for a short while.”
“This meaning the lie that we’re engaged?”
“At least pretend that we’re serious.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “What’s in it for you?”
“A syndication contract,” she admitted honestly. “Taking my matchmaking show wide.”
“It’s only local now?”
She nodded. “My station’s a network affiliate.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Tanya pretty heavily insinuated that my love life is a dumpster fire.”
“Is it?”
“That’s not the point.” Her cheeks burned hot. “The point is the insinuation looks bad for business. Could be seen as a black mark in building my career.”
“As a matchmaker.” He laughed out loud. Rudely. “I see.”
She huffed out a breath. “This is serious, Derrick! I’ve just taped my hundredth episode. I’m on the pinnacle here, maybe of something big. If Matched Up goes into syndication, viewers everywhere will see it! It might even get picked up for streaming.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “That does sound big.”
“Huge.”
“So. How do I fit into this pretty picture?” He crossed his arms in front of him but still looked interested somehow. His eyes were doing that little twinkling thing that said she had his full attention. It also made her a bit nuts because it looked like he was trying to sneak into her head. Well fine. Let him go there.
Welcome Derrick! Now cooperate for once in your life.
“I
needed to come up with someone,” she added coolly. “I mean, name a person I was involved with so I wouldn’t look like a loser in the love department.”
“Aww, and you thought of me.” She wanted to smack him but she wasn’t a violent person so she held her breath instead. One dark eyebrow arched. “Why?”
She huffed, completely irritated, then decided to play nice. She needed his help after all. “I didn’t—mention you by name exactly,” she said smoothly. “That part got extrapolated by the press.”
“You must have given them something to work with.”
“I might have mentioned something about a boatbuilder in Maine.”
“That’s fairly broad.”
“Yeah, but Blue Hill’s not.” She winced. “You’re all I could think of in a pinch. Probably due to our, you know, mutual dislike of one another?”
“Sure,” he said like she’d lost her mind. And maybe she had. “That makes perfect sense.”
“I was desperate,” she told him. “If Tanya had her way, I’d lose this syndication deal. She’s never wanted me to get it because she failed to get one herself, in spite of her daddy’s advertising money.”
“Professional jealousy’s an ugly beast,” he agreed sympathetically. He studied her a moment, seeming to soften. “Look, I’m sorry things are so twisted up, because this sounds like a great opportunity for you—”
“Could be for you, too! That’s what I’ve been trying to say.”
The look he gave her was pure skepticism. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”
She played her best card, hoping she’d win this hand. Based on the private conversation she and Derrick had shared last summer, she was willing to hedge her bets.
“I can tell you in one word. Olivia.”
Chapter Two
One year earlier…
It had been just after the bouquet toss at the wedding and Derrick had stolen away. Meredith didn’t know where he’d gone and she hadn’t intended to find him, but she had when she’d climbed down the steep wooden steps to the dock beneath the Albrights’ expansive summer estate. Festivities were still taking place on the lawn with guests drinking and chatting, but the wedding couple had already said their good nights.
Meredith held the bridal bouquet, feeling foolish for having caught it in the first place. “Hey you.”
Derrick looked up when he heard her coming. He sat on the dock with his knees bent in front of him and gripped a mostly empty bottle of beer. “Meredith.”
Okay, so he clearly wasn’t happy to see her. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t know you were down here. I can go if you’d prefer?”
“Nah. It’s all right.” He motioned with his free hand. “There’s enough room for two.”
Meredith sat down on a step. She and Derrick hadn’t gotten off to the best start, what with their little fender bender that he blamed her for when it was absolutely his fault. He’d been difficult to be around all week and the tension between them had been unbearable. But still, when she’d watched him with his family, she’d seen a different guy. Someone who cared for others, maybe just not particularly her. She was a big girl, though, and she could take it. He’d probably make the right woman pretty happy one day. He had potential.
He tilted his beer bottle up toward the cliffs above them. “Had enough of the party?”
“For now.” She viewed him in the shadows, thinking he looked drawn and sad. “You?”
“Weddings aren’t my thing. Generally.” He shrugged. “This one was okay, though.”
“Yeah.” She sighed and gazed out at the darkened waters. They made her think of her soul at the moment and the guilt she carried over her role in this twisted-up wedding. She inhaled fully, telling herself not to stress any further. This day was done. The rest was up to the wedding couple to sort through and the bride had assured Meredith she would explain everything when the moment was right. Maybe that moment was even happening right now. Meredith let out a breath, allowing her anxiety to finally ease. She’d been carrying it all week long and it had been exhausting.
She glanced around at the scenery, finding it beautiful and calming. The moon was high and casting its glow across the bay. “It’s nice out here.”
“Can be.” He scanned her bouquet. “So, you’re the lucky lady?”
Meredith waved her flowers. “Some say.”
“Isn’t that supposed to mean you’ll marry next?”
“Silly superstition.”
“Yeah. Well. I wouldn’t know. Personally.”
“I don’t suspect you’ve been catching any bouquets,” she teased him.
He smiled but still seemed down. “I meant, there wasn’t any of that at my wedding.”
“No?”
“It was…different.”
“I’m sorry, Derrick,” she said. “Sorry things didn’t work out.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” After a few moments he met her eyes. “We were kids then. Immature. If we’d gotten together later? Who knows.”
Meredith’s heart ached for him because it seemed pretty clear to her that Derrick wasn’t 100 percent over his ex. “Ever think of trying again?” she asked gently.
“Me and Olivia? Don’t think so, but then, you’re the matchmaker, so you tell me.” He chuckled and finished his beer. “Speaking of, how about you? With your job, I bet you pinned down Mr. Perfect right away. Is he waiting for you back in Boston?”
There he went, poking her about her career again. Meredith heaved a breath. “There’s no Mr. Perfect, nor has there ever been. Yet.” She fiddled with the bouquet in her hands. “No one like Olivia was for you.”
“Shame.” He set his jaw. “Or maybe that’s better?”
“Hmm. Maybe so. And besides—matchmakers make the worst clients.”
The wind picked up, carrying the sound of laughter and tinkling glasses out over the water, and they both sat there a while and just listened.
After a bit, Meredith grew chilly and decided to turn in. Her bridesmaid dress was sleeveless and the night air was getting cool.
“I should probably head back now.” She stood with her bouquet.
The air grew heavy between them as the breeze rippled across the waves.
He got to his feet, too, leaving his empty beer bottle on the dock. He looked handsome in the moonlight with dark shadows cutting across his face. He still wore his best man clothes from the wedding, though he’d removed his tuxedo jacket and loosened his tie. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and studied her.
Her senses tingled, like something was about to happen. Only she didn’t know what. She paused near the bottom step, feeling awkward and unsure when he walked toward her.
“Are you, uh, going up?”
He shook his head but his gaze lingered on hers.
“I think I’ll stay here another minute,” he said.
She nodded and started to go but he stopped her with a question.
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
“Early.” Her pulse quickened because he was standing so close.
And then, he took a step closer.
He cocked his chin. “So, I guess this is it then?”
“Guess so.”
He stared into her eyes in a way that made her heart pound and her face burn hot. And then when he stepped closer and cupped his hand to her cheek, she caught her breath.
“In a funny way,” he said. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Really?” She thought he hated her.
“Really.”
Then ooh…his thumb smoothed over her cheek and he moved closer. Her heart hammered. What was he doing? Her reason tugged with her emotions, and her heart reeled. She detected heat in his gaze. Desire, too. But no, he and she could never—
He dropped his hand. Something glimmered in his eyes, conflict, possibly regret. “Night, M
er.” This time when he used her nickname, it didn’t sound antagonistic. It was more…sad. “Pleasant dreams,” he said and turned away, looking out over the water.
She stood there, clutching her bouquet to her chest, wondering what in the world had just happened. When he didn’t say anything else, she took a shaky breath. “Pleasant dreams, Derrick.”
Her cheeks steamed as she scurried up the steps and then raced her way across the crowded lawn to the guest cottage, where she packed her bags preparing to leave Blue Hill.
That was the last she’d seen of Derrick Albright until today.
Chapter Three
“What does Olivia have to do with anything?”
Derrick stared at the maddening woman who’d invaded his cabin. She was plenty ballsy bringing up Olivia now. His head still spun from that press assault and the fabricated engagement story, and she dares to mention his ex? He kicked himself for letting down his guard at Brent’s wedding. He’d been weak in that moment, feeling sorry for himself instead of being happy for Brent like a good brother would have been, and had said too much. He’d also nearly made a misstep with Meredith. At least she seemed to have put that part behind her.
He knew he had. Way behind him.
Liar.
Meredith’s eyebrows arched. “Maybe a whole lot?”
“No.”
“Yeah.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mer,” he said, his tension building.
Electricity crackled between them.
She straightened on her heels with her hands on her hips, displaying her short and curvy figure. He was determined not to notice the way the halter top of her sundress dipped in an enticing V at her chest, or the pretty sparkle in her dark brown eyes.
He was not interested in Meredith. Never had been. Never would be.
Despite that one slip.
In fact, his emotions toward her ran at the opposite end of the spectrum.
So okay, she’d seemed nice that one time when he’d talked to her about his failed marriage. Caring and compassionate even. That in no way negated the billions of times she’d gotten on his every last nerve in the span of one week.
