Harlequin Heartwarming March 21 Box Set

by Claire McEwen

  If he’d accept her apology, this mess could be untangled before Reyna or her father ever learned of it. Brisa would never do this again. No one would be the wiser.

  Then the realization turned into a hard knot in her stomach.

  “You didn’t mention any of this to my father, did you?” Brisa asked, dread intensifying the fatigue until she sagged against the wall for support.

  Wade frowned. “Of course not.” His lips tightened. “You’re exhausted.” He ran a hand through his hair. It was longer than in any of the pictures he’d put on his profile, another reason she’d had trouble recognizing him. It suited him. His military cut had given him a hard, determined presence. Tonight, he was still determined, but he was also a hot laid-back guy in a suit.

  “I am. I also understand that having good intentions doesn’t change anything.” Brisa shook her head. “Someday I’ll learn that lesson and then watch out, world. I’ll be unstoppable.” She tried an honest grin. Men appreciated a woman who acknowledged her flaws, didn’t they?

  “I accept your apology,” Wade said.

  Relieved, Brisa relaxed. A gentleman. She wasn’t going to have to plot and plan and recover from this mess.

  “But forgiving isn’t the same as forgetting.” Wade bent to pick up her strappy sandals and gripped them in one hand before opening the door. “Let’s go have a seat inside the bar. You’ll be more comfortable there. We still have some things to discuss.”

  Brisa met his stare. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook with only a heartfelt apology. Also, he had her favorite shoes.

  She could listen. She owed him that much. She’d sit, have a drink, offer whatever help she could and gather enough energy to make it through the lobby and into a cab that would take her home. Alone.

  When his hand settled in the small of her back, infusing her with a touch of his strength and a restless energy, Brisa fought off a shiver. On paper, Wade had been perfect for Reyna. In person, he was so much more.

  CHAPTER TWO

  WADE WAVED THE lovely Brisa Montero ahead of him into the small, cool, dark bar that took up the rooftop of the Miami Sandpiper Hotel. He quickly evaluated what he hoped to accomplish by extending their conversation. He’d had a plan. Introduce himself directly to Reyna Montero and make sure that Brisa Montero did nothing to derail his courtship. Wade didn’t want to let Reyna slip through his fingers and delay his goal. After a lifetime of wanting a loving, stable family home, he wasn’t about to put it off any longer.

  The brief taste he’d had was too sweet to allow unnecessary distractions.

  But then he’d seen Reyna Montero light up in the embrace of another man and knew getting the girl was no longer an option.

  And getting even was a long shot.

  Now all he knew for sure was that he needed a new plan and Brisa Montero owed him. Maybe she could help him out.

  As he watched Brisa tip her head up and shoulders back, he caught the scent of lemons or citrus. That surprised him. Something light and fresh, instead of what he’d expected—seductive, heavy and expensive. Based on the sparkle of pink dress, the impossible heels he was now carrying in one hand and the way her dark hair was elaborately twisted in a way intended to suggest messy and casual, he’d made a judgment early that evening that he knew her, understood who she was. Wealthy. Selfish. Careless, even.

  That carelessness fit his original impression, too. After he’d read her confession about setting up a dating profile on her sister’s behalf and texting him, all without her sister’s knowledge, he’d been hostile and pretty angry. Wade had never met Brisa, but he’d decided immediately to correct that when Luis Montero had introduced himself and launched into a glowing description of his daughter Reyna.

  Reyna was an unusual name, leading him right to her catfishing sister.

  The opportunity to demand an explanation had been denied by unanswered texts. An opportunity to extract an apology could not be missed, then, even if it required a suit and mingling. He hated mingling.

  But he’d listened to Brisa Montero’s speech, tracked her as she’d worked the crowd smoothly and watched her stand up to Luis Montero, a man who inspired respect due to not just his monetary contributions to various causes, but his ability to bring others with him, to get things done.

  Brisa was careless, but she was also tough.

  He should have expected a curveball.

  The fact that she’d corresponded with him on behalf of her sister put her in a category all her own.

  Brisa might be the younger daughter, the most beautiful woman he’d seen in person in a long time and capable of reckless decisions like trying to find a match for her sister without permission, but she was smart. She’d been right about her sister being exactly his type. He’d watched Brisa move through the crowd and hold her own with her father’s guests. He realized then that she’d also charmed him right out of anger and into…something else. She slumped in her chair as soon as they found an empty table.

  “Mojito,” Brisa said quickly as the waitress hovered. Her choice suggested the drink was a need, not a want. For a split second, as she’d been climbing down from the stage, he’d seen stress on her face.

  That had been before she looked his way and when he’d decided to confront her. The fact that she’d frowned as if she couldn’t place him had been a shot to his ego. Her attempt to brush him off had solidified his decision to demand a better explanation.

  Her fatigue was already turning his determination to seek her into massive guilt on his part. Her apology was all he could reasonably expect, but Wade had never appreciated having his plans derailed. Even at fourteen, when he’d entered his last foster mom’s house, he’d been certain he knew how to make life work out correctly. Keep his head down at home. Avoid all trouble, so he could stay in the same school for the whole year. Graduate high school, join the Navy, build a career, be the best at that career and have a family so he was never alone again. His failed marriage was the only flaw so far.

  He was determined to succeed at each of those goals. All he needed now was the final piece of the puzzle.

  The waitress pointed to him, a warm smile on her face.

  “Ginger ale.” Wade nodded firmly when both women paused and studied him as if they needed to confirm they’d understood what he’d said. He was comfortable with the reaction at this point. Two years of sobriety under his belt made it easier.

  Brisa fussed with the tablecloth as the waitress walked away. “I’ve said I was sorry and I meant it. What else do we have to talk about? It’s been a long week and I’m sure a handsome guy like you has lots of opportunities to meet nice women on that app.”

  Handsome. His immediate confidence boost was silly.

  Wade stretched back in the tall club chair that he hated. Did these chairs ever fit anyone? He could sit, brace his feet on the floor and still couldn’t rest against the back of the chair. What a terrible design. Brisa was perched gracefully. Of course, she was.

  This place suited her. It was posh, overly expensive. He surveyed the tables along the fringes of the small dim room. Glass walls meant the city was the backdrop and at this time of night, the lights sparkled against darkness. Jazz played but not loud enough to intrude on conversation; the volume was meant to cover secrets being exchanged with the help of good liquor. This club was about atmosphere and romance.

  It was not conducive to raking someone over the coals for lying.

  Especially not Brisa. She flashed the megawatt smile to the waitress who returned with their drinks and handed her money, which included a generous tip, he noticed.

  He’d certainly planned to be the one paying. Wade wanted control of this conversation.

  Interesting. He’d misjudged her again.

  “How is your ginger ale?” Brisa asked as she held her mojito to her lips. He couldn’t read her face well, but he picked up a definite note of amu
sement in her tone.

  Did she understand all the calculations happening in his brain?

  He hadn’t tasted it yet, so he sipped. “It’s sweet. It’s how I like it. Ginger ale-ish.” It was. He’d grown accustomed to the drink, after trying and discarding several other nonalcoholic bar choices. “When you’re sober and determined to stay that way, you learn to enjoy it.”

  “Oh,” Brisa said. That was a common reaction, too. Before he could reassure her that he wouldn’t relapse from absorbing any alcohol in the bar’s air, she slipped out of her chair. “Let’s find another place to talk, then. This isn’t working anyway. I need to see your face.”

  She immediately swept through the cluster of small tables, drink in hand.

  Wade grinned. This had been more of the attitude he’d expected. She would call the tune and men in her wake would dance. Still, it was a pleasure to follow behind, watching as she padded barefoot without a single hesitation across the hardwood floor to the hidden hallway that led to the elevator and the rest of the floor.

  When Wade caught up to Brisa, she was pressed against a glass door.

  “Perfect,” Brisa said and she pushed open the door to step out under the overhang of a second, deserted bar. The pool glowed turquoise, and lights spaced around the edge of the rooftop illuminated several seating areas. During the day, the place would serve food and drinks to the hotel guests, likely families, enjoying the expansive pool. Tonight, the whole area was vacated.

  Wade followed Brisa as she approached the edge of the pool. From there, he could see through the clear water to the bottom that sloped down gradually to a glass side and bottom that hung out over the Miami streets.

  Glass. The bottom of the pool was glass. Nothing as reasonable or strong as good, old-fashioned cement. Glass.

  His daughter was obsessed with having a pool.

  He was glad he wasn’t staying at this hotel and would do his best to make sure his daughter never visited. The argument they would have before she did a cannonball into the shallow end would give him an ulcer.

  “How strong is glass?” Brisa muttered, shaking her head. “How is that a good idea?”

  Hearing her assessment would have made Wade chuckle if they’d been about to discuss anything other than the matchmaking mess. He was gratified that she agreed with him.

  Brisa moved to the wide shallow steps of the pool. There, the water covered her feet but nothing else. Her sigh confirmed his suspicions. The shoes were murder. Cold water was a relief.

  Arguing with an exhausted woman with sore feet would make him a monster. Seeing her relax there on the side of the pool reminded him he was here to demand…something. The goal was fuzzy in his brain. Now that he was convinced Reyna was no longer a possibility, he needed a Plan B.

  “Tell me how you decided I was the right man for your sister,” Wade said. He couldn’t forget what was meant to be happening between them, no matter how beautifully distracting Brisa Montero was.

  “Okay.” She nodded and took a long draw from the mojito. Her satisfied sigh was cute. That was dangerous. “I put the profile up on Military Match because my sister was returning here to Miami.” She kicked at the water and did not meet his eyes. Was she concocting a defense or testing the water to see if that was enough to get her off the hook?

  “What I want to know is why me. I already know what you did.” Wade sipped his own drink. There was no justification for pretending to be someone else online. None.

  “Our father…” She paused. “We have spent our lives fighting against his ideas for us. Fighting like running away from home to join the Air Force or marrying the high school boy who promised he’d never tell me no, and other small things like those. Recently, he’d convinced Reyna to come home to run Concord Court, but that wasn’t her dream.” Brisa rolled her eyes. “Even with our careers settled, he would have kept trying to match us to men who could further his dynasty. She needed a guy my father would never object to. Out of all the options, you were clearly the best. She would accept you.”

  The best. How? Wade considered that as he slipped off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants.

  “What are you doing?” Brisa asked.

  “Testing the water myself. If the glass bottom falls out, the water may still sweep us out of the pool to our deaths, but I’m ready to gamble. Whoever chose an outdoor rooftop in the middle of August for a party must be cold-blooded.” Wade slipped off his jacket and squatted to sit by the edge of the pool. He rolled his sleeves up and sighed when his feet hit the water.

  “It’s about appearance, not comfort,” she muttered, and he had the suspicion she had chosen the location. “My sister solves problems. That’s who she is. Her own, my mistakes, our father’s cluelessness…” Brisa made a chopping motion. “She cuts right through to the heart of the matter and she fixes things.” She took another sip of her mojito. “Reyna’s been gone for so long that I’d forgotten how that went. She wasn’t even focused on the part of the equation I was working on, just went and fell for the guy I would have said was all wrong for her.”

  Wade twisted his glass as he considered that. Perhaps Reyna wasn’t as far out of reach as he’d imagined, watching her lead away the guy, a happy smile flashing over her shoulder. “Wrong how?”

  Brisa stirred the water with her foot. “Too charming. Too easygoing. He’d rather tease than argue and he picks up everyone around him. Props them up. Makes them stronger than they were alone. Sean’s the kind of guy I’d want for me, not Reyna.”

  From that, Wade had to conclude that he was not charming, easygoing or the kind of guy Brisa liked. How did that feel? Not great.

  He wasn’t sure why there was a pinch in his chest near his heart. It wasn’t that what she said was wrong. He wasn’t those things. In Brisa’s description of her sister, he’d found Reyna to be driven, ambitious and committed. Down-to-earth. That was how he saw himself.

  Brisa valued charm in a partner for herself, but not her sister. Reggie Beaumont, the pro football star who’d hugged Brisa close before he left her all alone to deal with cleaning up, lived the life she expected. For sure Reggie had the money to move in the Montero crowd. Wade was a star in his own universe, but it didn’t match Reggie Beaumont’s.

  “Dating wasn’t on Reyna’s to-do list. I’m not sure it ever has been, but I know what qualities she values. Duty. Intelligence. Leadership. A guy with accomplishments to match hers. I was right, too, because Sean has those things. I just…” She shrugged. “They’ve worked together for months. I’ve been right there with them and I didn’t see anything that I would call romance. No extravagant dates. No flowers. No kissy flirting. How could I know this was happening?” Brisa asked.

  Wade exhaled slowly. The woman he’d placed in the “Dating/Marriage” slot of his plan was otherwise engaged.

  Brisa asked, “You didn’t tell the whole truth, either, did you?”

  Wade frowned. What did that mean? “Because I wasn’t living in Miami at the time?” That was the only thing he could think of. He hadn’t mentioned his daughter, but Brisa didn’t know anything about Thea. Not yet. His relationship with his daughter was growing. Talking about it too soon had seemed bad luck.

  “Right,” she drawled.

  “It was a month. I expected us to correspond longer than three weeks. What’s the hurry?” Wade asked. He’d been surprised when Brisa as Reyna had asked him when they could meet for coffee.

  “Gramps, this is not the 1800s, no one has time for correspondence. No one wants to be texting back and forth for months. That delay? Boom. Sean makes his move,” Brisa muttered.

  “Well, I live in Miami now. I’ll have a permanent address this week, as soon as you hand me the keys.” Wade wanted to observe her reaction. He’d made a snap decision. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done so.

  “At Concord Court?” Brisa asked, a small breathless squeak
on the end. “Oh.” Her brow furrowed deeper. “That’s…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know the word to put in there. He didn’t, either.

  Wade had a plan for Miami. When his newly married ex had moved here with his daughter, it had been a challenge, but he lined up a job at the hospital after his Navy retirement. He and Vanessa had worked out a shared custody plan, and after years of too short, too infrequent visits while he was stationed overseas, he could see his daughter every day. No more time zone challenges or unreliable technology or the weird space between them that grew over time and distance. He would build a home for his daughter. With his daughter. Concord Court would be the place to start.

  “Your father made a big sales pitch on the place. I told him no.” He had, at first, but he was reevaluating his answer. “I have a job, so there’s no need for me to take up a slot someone else could use, but he insisted on me coming to the party tonight to see what Concord Court offered.”

  “And what do you think?” Brisa asked. Wade felt the twitch of his lips. She was concerned about his reaction to her project. That was dedication.

  “I’m impressed.” He was. How could he not be? “It’s a good support for so many men and women. There’s a whole community of people who need time to get their feet under them when they’re first resuming civilian life.”

  She relaxed a bit. “Good. That’s good. You know things are delicate right now, with my father and Reyna and what will happen. If you were to tell either one of them about our introduction, I’m afraid it might…” She bit her lip, an expression so powerful Wade had a hunch she’d used it often enough to know its effect.

  “I’m clear on your problem and everything I can do to make it worse,” Wade drawled. “What you don’t understand is that I have my own problem. It would be smart to ask me how you might help if you’d like my support.”

  Brisa blinked as if she’d never expected that.

  “A date? I could find you a date?” she said slowly. “I mean, that’s your problem, right?”