A Perfect Fit

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A Perfect Fit Page 15

by Heather Tullis


  “Are you harassing those dogs again?” she called down to him.

  He turned to see her on the balcony and grinned. Their eyes caught as the smile slid from his face. For a long moment time seemed to stop as the air backed out of Cami’s lungs and something moved in her chest. Needing a chance to center herself, she waved and walked back into the house, rubbing her chest at the sudden ache. What had that been all about? Cami had never felt anything like it. She checked out the last two rooms upstairs, both of which held boxes, but no furniture, then felt centered enough to speak with him again.

  She found Vince in the kitchen, standing over a pan of hamburger browning with chunks of onion in it. “Your place is nice. Clean—way cleaner than I expected.” She tried to keep her voice light as she walked over. Michael Bublé’s voice crooned from speakers tucked into the room corners, surprising her yet again.

  “Thanks. I’m not much for clutter. Would you slice some mushrooms for the sauce?”

  “Sure.” Grateful to have something to do with her hands, she picked up the knife from the marble-topped island and went to work. The theme of the kitchen, like the rest of the house, was space. There was ample room between cabinets—and plenty of those to go around. A dining area between the kitchen and back patio held an undersized table and chairs for the space, and the back wall was almost all windows, bringing the fenced yard into the house. “This must be a spectacular place to sit in the winter.”

  “It is. And the fall when the leaves are all turning gold and red. And in the spring when the first hint of green becomes a haze across the mountain.”

  “So, pretty much year round,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  She sliced green peppers for the sauce and the salad, more mushrooms, some pretty tomatoes, which were obviously locally grown, and tossed them all into a bowl after dumping a package of field greens into it.

  “I didn’t picture you cooking much,” Cami said when the salad was done and Vince slid garlic bread into the oven.

  “You have a lot to learn about me.” Vince glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned. “Okay, time to fess up. This is my best dish, by far. I eat a lot of fast food, TV dinners and cereal.”

  “And yet you built a kitchen like this one. Rosemary would go crazy seeing it go to waste.”

  “You tell her she’s welcome to cook in it anytime she wants, if it bothers her so much.” He looked over at Cami after setting the timer. “Or you can come use it sometime.” He slid his hands onto her waist and pulled her close. “I like seeing you here.”

  Cami melted a little more as Vince kissed her, soft and gentle. He released her to check on the pasta.

  When they were seated at the table, twirling spaghetti on their forks Vince finished talking about one of his high school exploits. “Let’s just say my mom was less than pleased. I was doing extra chores for a month.”

  “You deserved it.” Cami looked down at her plate. “My mom definitely would’ve had a fit.” She felt a lump of pain rise to her throat when she thought of her mom, so vibrant and young. “She was also really good at creative punishments.”

  Vince’s hand slid over hers. “Your father said she died several years back, but he didn’t say how.”

  Cami flipped her hand over and entwined their fingers. She rarely talked about it, but after everything they’d been through, she felt safe telling him. “Six years ago she started to act odd. She developed memory loss and dementia almost overnight. At first we wondered if it was a brain tumor or something. Then the doctor diagnosed it as Creuzfeldt-Jakob Disease.”

  Vince ran his thumb over her knuckles, his full attention on her. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a neurological disorder that causes holes in the brain, makes it like a sponge. Her whole personality changed in a matter of weeks. Dad cancelled everything he was doing, passed along his work to someone else and stayed home with her.” Her eyes stung with the memories she usually tried to ignore. She much preferred to think of her mother as healthy and vibrantly alive. “It was all so fast. One day she was normal, and practically overnight Dad had to hire a full-time nurse.”

  “How long did it take?” Vince asked.

  “To kill her? Less than four months.”

  “Fast, too fast,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “And agonizingly slow all at the same time.”

  “Yeah. It was awful.” The ache in her chest grew. “I miss her every day.”

  A moment of silence passed between them, then he leaned in and brushed his lips against her temple. The gentleness of his touch reassured her and she leaned against him.

  After dinner they played with the dogs, then enjoyed the cannoli he’d picked up at a restaurant in town.

  When the dishes were all piled in the dishwasher or drying on the counter, Vince pulled her into his arms and twirled her around the room, making her laugh. “I have the sudden desire for a dance.” He slid into rhythm with the music. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  She snuggled closer to him and inhaled his cologne. “Definitely not.”

  The music transitioned into “You Are Always on my Mind,” dripping with smooth sounds and light piano. Vince slowed things down, pulling her closer, one hand on the small of her back, the other tangled in the curls at her nape as he nuzzled her neck, her ear, her jaw and took her mouth in a lazy, sensual kiss.

  “Did someone tell you about my thing for Michael Bublé?” she asked against his lips.

  “Hmmm? No. But I can change the music if he’s competition for me.”

  She giggled and his hand on her back skimmed up her spine, dragging her closer as she wrapped her arms around him, kissing back with focused, languid attention. The song was long over, had moved onto another when he pulled back and kissed her again. He slid both hands on her face, taking the kiss deeper.

  When he tipped his forehead against hers, she thought her heart would pound right out of her chest.

  “Stay the night.” His words were low, throaty, but vibrated right through her.

  “I—” She shouldn’t, it was a mistake, but she couldn’t think clearly.

  “Come on, baby. Stay with me.” Vince gave her another long kiss, then slid his lips down to nibble at her neck.

  “Okay.” And as he led her upstairs to his room, Cami refused to let herself second-guess.

  Chapter 27

  Vince woke Cami with kisses, enjoying the way her face went from asleep to half awake, to fully aware.

  “Mmm. Is it morning already?” Her voice was soft and sleepy.

  “Yes, and as nice as it might be to stay here with you all day, I have to get out on a job site. I have the sneaking suspicion you have work to do as well. Sorry. Bad planning on my part.”

  “That’s fine.” She stood and stretched, wearing only the long T-shirt he’d offered her when she’d shivered in bed beside him. Vince loved her tousled curls, the pink color in her cheeks from waking warm and pliant under his kisses. He wished he could have lain in bed with her for hours longer, holding her as she slept.

  He had already showered and dressed, so he pointed her toward the bathroom. “Go ahead and shower while I scramble some eggs.”

  “All right. I’ll be fast.”

  “I bet.” He pressed one more kiss to her lips before dragging himself away.

  He’d had his share of relationships, but had never been with anyone who fit so well in his life. She was strong and flexible, determined and fragile all at once. A conundrum he didn’t think he’d be able to unravel anytime soon. He looked forward to trying.

  As he scrambled the eggs and poured them into the hot butter, he wondered how soon he could get her back here again, in his house, in his bed. He hadn’t planned for her to stay the night, but when he’d seen her on his balcony, everything just clicked inside him. Vince had thought George was crazy trying to hook him up with his rubs-elbows-with-the-elite daughter, but now he couldn’t imagine anyone fitting him better. She was the one.

/>   The question was how to get her to see things the same way.

  When she came back downstairs, fully dressed, he was setting the table with juice and bacon on the side.

  “It looks great,” she said. “I could smell the bacon. Do you have any coffee?”

  “I don’t have a fancy machine, but it’s hot.” He gestured to the coffeemaker. “There are cups above it.”

  She reached into the cupboard and pulled out two. “You want a cup?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  He thought it should have been awkward, the morning after, but it wasn’t. They slid into sync, had a nice chat over breakfast discussing the day’s plans. He dropped her back at her place with a lingering kiss, and a promise to call her later.

  ~*~

  Cami tried to sneak into the house before realizing she should have known better. Rosemary and Jonquil sat over their espresso at the table. Both eyed her with identical grins as she entered.

  “Well, well. Someone’s date went better than planned,” Rosemary said over her coffee cup.

  “I’d have something fairly uncomplimentary to say to you about that, but I’m feeling too smug right now.” Cami moved to the espresso machine and dispensed a dose for herself. The coffee at Vince’s had been good, but she needed something stronger to jump-start her day.

  Rosemary’s response was pithy, but had no heat in it. She ended it with an innuendo-filled, “Sooo?”

  Cami caught her gaze, held it, coolly. “So, what?”

  “Don’t give me your princess-to-peon-routine—though I must admit you do it well. Spill. I want details.”

  “Forget it.” Cami moved toward the stairs with her espresso. She had to do something with her hair before it dried all the way. “You’ll have to use your imagination.” Then she couldn’t help herself. “And know it was way better than that.”

  Jonquil laughed while Rosemary groaned.

  Cami still felt smug as she closed her bedroom door behind her.

  ~*~

  “There’s something you should know about our games before we get inside,” Vince said to Blake as they pulled in front of Gage’s place a few nights later.

  “Yeah? You play in your underwear or something?”

  Vince chuckled. “No, and don’t put that picture in my head. Actually, we have a long-standing tradition from when we first started playing poker at age six that we never changed. We play for pennies.”

  “Pennies?” The revelation made Blake blink.

  Vince got out of the car and waited for Blake to join him. “Pennies. We use chips, because it feels like we’re actually betting something, but we each ante up ten bucks worth of chips, play until we decide we’re done for the night, then cash out.” He enjoyed the disbelief as it came over Blake’s face. “Last time I walked out with almost seven extra bucks in my pocket.”

  “Because it’s really all about having a guy’s night and strategy,” Blake said facetiously.

  “You got it.” Vince slapped Blake on the back and led him into Gage’s palatial Swiss-style home, calling out, “Hey, the party’s here.” Across the room there was a round table set up with chairs, snacks, and stacks of colored poker chips. When they joined Gage in the dining room, Vince turned to Blake. “Welcome to the future sons-in-law club.”

  Gage gave him a hand signal. “Oh, hell no, don’t even get started.”

  “The future sons-in-law?” Blake asked.

  “DiCarlo handpicked each of us to marry one of his girls. He was very forward thinking.” Vince set the case of beer on the table.

  “I don’t care what he thought. No way am I giving up my freedom to marry that ice queen Delphi,” Jeremy said as he brought in a bag of chips and a bottle of dip.

  “Maybe if you hadn’t all but opened your first conversation with ‘by the way, I have no interest in marrying you,’ she wouldn’t treat you like the idiot you are,” Vince said.

  “Says the man who’s gone gaga over DiCarlo daughter number one,” Gage added. “And I don’t care how wonderful you say Jonquil is, I’m not giving in to any dead guy’s fantasies.”

  Blake’s lips twitched, as if holding back a laugh. “All three of you are on the docket?”

  Gage shot Vince a glare. “I thought you said it was a club secret.”

  Vince pointed a thumb in Blake’s direction. “You’re looking at the fourth member of the club. Lana in his case, though he doesn’t seem too reluctant.”

  Blake grabbed a bottle of beer, popped off the top, and took a few swallows. “There’s something about a red-head.”

  “Dude, I can’t believe you’re bending to the old man.” Gage sat at the table and started counting out chips.

  “I actually made the choice first.” Blake tipped his head. “At least I think I did. If not, he was way more subtle with me than he must have been with you all.”

  “Don’t know why he’d want a ski bum marrying one of his daughters anyway,” Gage said with a grin.

  “Or an itinerant photographer.” Jeremy slung his leather jacket over the back of the chair, sitting with them.

  Vince shook his head. “That article still burns me.”

  “They’re nice girls. They didn’t deserve that,” Gage agreed.

  “And you did?” Blake asked.

  “We’re a bunch of bums, what can we say?” Gage grinned and pulled the deck of cars out of its box.

  “I suppose it’ll all come out when your wedding announcements hit the papers,” Blake said, a smug grin on his face.

  Jeremy’s response was short and pithy.

  “Three successful business men; Vince and Jeremy each running their own, Gage running your shared interest. It’s going to be pretty,” Blake said as he took a free chair.

  Gage’s eyes narrowed on Blake, who appeared to enjoy the response. “I manage the resort for a corporation.”

  “Which you three own, though admittedly, you personally own the lion’s share.” Blake took a potato chip from an open bag on the table.

  “Where did you get that crap?” Vince asked. He didn’t want the fact to become common knowledge. They were all happy with the way things stood.

  “You don’t honestly think George would talk his girls up to anyone he hadn’t fully investigated, do you? Besides, he was thinking it might be nice to tie the resort in with the hotel, and when he got word back it wasn’t for sale, he did some digging.” Blake shrugged. “I guess after he met you he decided it was as well, and let it be.”

  “But we’re silent partners.” Jeremy pointed to himself and Vince. “It’s like a token ownership.”

  Blake laughed as he grabbed a handful of pretzels. “The hell you are. I did some checking on my own. You’re so silent you help run the mountain bike events, pilot and ground crew the hot air balloons, and step in working the lifts or on the maintenance when Gage gets in a bind. Very hands off.”

  Gage laughed. “He’s got you there. But I’m still not interested in Jonquil.”

  Jeremy grabbed a manila envelope that sat on an end table, opening it on his way back. He sorted through the pictures and tossed one of Jonquil in front of Gage. “I wouldn’t dismiss her if I were you.”

  Gage picked up the photo, his eyes nearly bugging. “That’s her? Damn, she’s hot.” He stared for a few more seconds, sucked in a breath, and shook his head. “Too bad I’m a confirmed bachelor. Put it away, let’s start playing. No talk about any women who are actually in the realm of possibility tonight. Strictly dream girls.”

  Jeremy put the pictures back in the envelope, and set it on the end table again. “Those are for you to take, Blake.”

  “Then Delphi is totally fair game for discussion,” Vince jumped on Gage’s comment. “No matter what Jeremy did now, I seriously doubt he could convince her he wasn’t the biggest creep on the planet,”

  “Your reverse psychology isn’t going to work on me. Not interested.” Jeremy picked up the cards as they were dealt.

  “And I wouldn’t bet on Blake’s chances
with Lana either, from what I saw the other day.”

  Blake’s brows lifted. “What did you see?”

  “Just an interesting conversation. It looked like you were about to come to blows in the parking lot. Dude, she’s not happy with you.”

  “I can be tenacious. It’s all a matter of biding my time.” Blake let the cards lay on the table until the last one was dealt, then shuffled through them.

  “So, you’re determined,” Gage asked, obviously mystified.

  “I can be patient, but I have every intention of bringing my woman home where she belongs.” Blake set two of the cards face down on the table. “Give me two.”

  “Better you than me.” Jeremy set down one from his hand.

  “Fact is,” Blake said, grinning at them, “if either of those women decided to bat their eyelashes at you two, you’d be buying a ring before you knew it. I’d lay odds on it.”

  “You’re out of your mind.” Gage dealt the rest of the cards.

  “I bet you each fifty bucks, if either woman decides to take an interest in you by the end of next summer, you’ll fall like a house of cards.”

  “I’m so in,” Jeremy said, tossing in couple poker chips. “On this round and your bet.”

  “Me too. It’ll be the easiest fifty bucks I ever made,” Gage agreed.

  Vince thought Blake was right, but he decided this was one of those times when discretion was in his best interest. He almost hoped the girls made a move. It could be really entertaining.

  ~*~

  Cami was worn out from unpacking boxes and sorting files. Maybe she needed a break. She grabbed a yogurt from the mini-fridge in her office and sat at her computer, wondering who else might have registered for the gala night at the hotel. Though she felt the urge to check it daily, hourly sometimes, she’d held herself back, not wanting to go crazy watching the list grow.

  It had been three days though, so she wasn’t being obsessive, right? Cami pulled up the records, chose the correct date, and began to scroll. Many familiar names of journalists, other hoteliers, important people within the company, and favored guests littered the lists. She flipped along until she noticed the last name Gifford. Zelda Gifford. Delphi’s last name was Gifford. Cami felt her gut twist at the thought, but forced herself to think clearly.

 

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