Lakeshore Secrets: The McAdams Sisters - Kate McAdams (By The Lake Series Book 1)

by Leah, Shannyn

  “Before my dad passed he and my Uncle Carl had unfinished deals all over and one of them was buying the hotel.”

  “You’re going to buy it?” He didn’t even seem to notice the surprised tone of her voice as if it was everyday a person just bought an entire hotel.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Is this the first hotel you have purchased?’

  He slanted a quirky look at her. “Yes. I’ve only been working with my family over the last six months.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know that. “Since your dad passed?”

  He nodded.

  “You didn’t work there before?”

  He finally looked up talking to her and not just hearing her. “After I finished University I never went back to the resort. To work anyway. Of course I returned to visit my family.” His eyes darkened after his words. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Mean it like she was some awful person that didn’t come back to visit her family after she left for college? Of course, that’s not what he meant at all.

  She shrugged, looking down at her tiles, masking her emotions. She knew he wasn’t intentionally being ignorant but it still hurt...the truth hurt. But after today that would all change for good. And what perfect timing because she didn’t want to work for a boss who had cheated on her, and she didn’t want to stay away from her family...from Marc. After today, her whole life was about to change. And obviously the meeting wasn’t as important to Marc as it was to his Uncle Carl so what was the harm?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Marc could see in her troubled little hazel eyes that his truth had caused her pain. But he couldn’t do much more than give her an apology and even then it had been her choice to stay away from her family...from him.

  “He asked me to take over the resort. He wanted me to fix mistakes he had made throughout his life which, I’m not sure how I ever would.” Somewhere hidden like a buried treasure had to be lists of the inexcusable affairs his father was involved in, but how Marc would know what they were or where the notes were? And then there was that warning again. That heed against his uncle.

  “Farmer,” Kate announced, sounding proud as she lay her tiles across the board.

  Marc looked down at her word and noticed she missed a good point opportunity. He began picking her tiles up. “Now if you had just set them up right here,” he said as he lined them up against the far side of the board. “And your last letter would land on this orange square here.” He double tapped the board to get her attention...her attention span was like a two year old. “You’d have a triple word score. That’s what you look for to earn more points.”

  “Is that your secret?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you want to know my secret?”

  He nodded.

  She leaned closer to him, which was way across the table. “I hate this game.”

  He mimicked her and, even so, with them both leaning towards one another, they were feet apart. “That’s not a secret.”

  “I always have.”

  “I’ve always suspected as much.”

  “I played because you enjoyed it so much.”

  “I still do.”

  “I can see that. It’s your turn.” She sat back.

  He looked back down at his tiles sorting the letters in his head and taking in the best point locations on the board.

  “That’s a strange request,” she said. “Your father I mean. Why didn’t he just fix his own regrets? That is an awful big load to leave for someone.”

  He didn’t disagree but how could he say no to his father when after all those years he’d actually opened up and attempted to bond with him. “It is.”

  “Are you going to do it?”

  He shrugged. “I would first have to learn what those mistakes were.”

  “How would you do that?” That was exactly the question he had been asking himself in between learning the resort and working it. “With your mom’s help?”

  He shook his head. “No. I would never burden her with such a high demand.”

  “And yet your father did with you.”

  “Yes.”

  “How will you know what his mistakes were? Does he have them filed away?”

  “Not anywhere I have looked.” And he had looked. He had searched for hours through all his father’s files, books, notes and cabinets. He had searched for any type of unusual stuff that might lead him to wherever his father’s paper-work was. But he had come up empty handed and everything was perfectly filed and perfectly legit. Everything was accounted for.

  “Did you ever consider that maybe it was his illness talking?”

  “You believe my father did no wrong towards people?”

  She didn’t answer right away and stared down at her tiles. “No...But no matter what he has done how would you be able to fix it? I can’t possibly understand how he would expect this of you and quite possibly maybe you shouldn’t take it so literal.”

  If he couldn’t find anything there would be nothing to fix, but if there was something, somewhere, he had to find it. He had to make sure his dad hadn’t in some way wronged people who didn’t deserve it. But why was he pouring his father’s last wishes out to Kate? Kate who had abandoned him without a word. But it felt good to tell someone and he could trust her with his secrets.

  “I’m sorry your dad put that kind of pressure on you.”

  He shrugged. “We deal with what we are dealt and sometimes parents just aren’t aware how their actions are affecting us.” Her father hadn’t given her late teens an easy time either.

  She looked up at him. “He’s been sober for five years,” she said proudly.

  “That’s a good achievement.”

  “But I haven’t,” she blew out a deep breath. “All this talk is dampening our mood. Let me grab that wine I watched you sneak into an ice bucket.” She stood. “Do you want a glass? Or two? Or three? This seems like the perfect time to down a few and forget all the expectations that await you at home.”

  He chuckled. “One glass is fine.”

  Her slippers scuffed the wood floor there and back before passing him the wine and a cork screw. He popped the top off and filled the two glasses she held. She crawled onto the couch beside him and bent her legs up in front of her wrapping her arms around them as if to create a barrier between them.

  “Remember the first time I introduced you to alcohol?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “I think there were a lot of firsts that night.”

  “Yes there were.”

  “It was the first time I picked a lock and broke into a kitchen.” She had been a bad influence, but she had dragged him out of his shell.

  She nodded, her smile going back in time with him. “It was the first time you picked a lock,” she agreed. “Well kind of. I sort of did it first, and then let you think you did it.”

  He laughed. “That makes sense why that was the only lock I could ever pick.”

  She gasped. “You tried again? Without me?” Her lips curved.

  “Of course.”

  “And you couldn’t do it?” He sipped his wine enjoying the length of her smooth neck when she tossed her head back in laughter. “Not entirely. I can pick an indoor household lock.”

  “Those are easy.”

  “But not a kitchen keyed lock.” He shook his head.

  She sipped her wine and he followed the liquid down her throat, and stared at the island of skin left uncovered by the robe. “It wasn’t the first time we broke into the kitchen it was just the first time I let you think you did it.”

  “And it wasn’t the last.”

  “It was however the first time you got drunk,” she continued reminiscing. “Oh my goodness I could hardly get you out of the kitchen. You just could not hold your alcohol.”

  That was the first time and the last for a long while that he drank alcohol. He preferred to be in control of his actions and feelings not let some bubbly drink define them.

  “Then I had to sneak
you around the halls,” she continued and he leaned back enjoying the story from her perspective. They had been inseparable. “So we didn’t get caught because your father would have killed us both. And we ended up in the library.”

  “That was a first for you,” he interjected.

  She pushed his leg with her foot. “Just because not all of us have a mother to build us a private library doesn’t mean I didn’t read a book.” She eyed him. “You do know that I develop and proofread copy ads?”

  He stared down at her. He had never thought that she wasn’t smart or was lacking whatever she was insinuating. Even before her mother had passed, Kate was the most independent strong-headed and hearted, opinionated person he had ever met. He never doubted that she couldn’t do more than work with her dad in maintenance. He felt sad at the possibility that somewhere deep down she might have been pushed to college to achieve a degree to be his equal. It was never about any of that for him.

  He moved his arm from its resting location on the back of the couch and slid a loose wild curl from her face tucking it behind her ear. “I knew you would take the world into your hands.”

  A shy smiled crossed her lips and she quickly sobered. “Well, don’t get all carried away. I’m not chief director.” A joke to undermine her achievement...too proud. Don’t take a compliment Kate.

  “I am actually considering quitting.”

  Quitting? Why would she just quit? He almost got excited at the idea of her moving home. Calm down, she hasn’t said anything of the sort. “Why?”

  “Well, it’s still in the works, not official yet, but Gran left us an empty commercial building in town. The one right beside Mrs Calvert’s Bakery. It’s been empty for years and it has a Christmas themed window display right now. Do you know which one I mean?”

  He did.

  “It’s destroyed inside and needs to be completely gutted and re-built. Peyton was throwing around the idea of opening a business in there. She’s an esthetician and suggested opening a spa.” There were already a couple spas in town so there wasn’t a high demand for another one. That was the business man in him, the pros and cons popping into his head right away. “Abby,” she continued, “has apparently been making handmade soap with Gran. I guess it was a little side job for them but they have done a marvelous job and Abby has been selling to friends. So then Peyton suggested a spa/soap shop.”

  “What do you think of her idea?”

  “I think it would be expensive and I think she is very impulsive when it comes to serious decisions about her life and she doesn’t always think them through.”

  “But, what do you think of the idea?”

  She eyed him. “What do you think of it? You’re the businessman going around buying up hotels.”

  “Why do you need my opinion first? Tell me what you think of it.”

  She smiled, looking confidant again. “Like I said, I think Peyton is impulsive and she doesn’t realize the work behind opening a business from nothing. I believe she would start it with the full intention of completing it only to see something better on the other side of the fence and then I think I would be left by myself to run everything. But on the other hand, Abby enjoys making soap so much, she would have her own job and I could move home. Maybe she would feel a connection to Gran everyday in a positive way.”

  “So the reasons behind the shop are pursuing you to open it. But what about the actual product?”

  “Abby’s soap is amazing. It is an all-natural product with no preservatives and essential oils are added which also have benefits. I think there is a big demand for such a product as well as other things, like face creams, oils, salts, shampoos, body cream...anything natural for the body.” She smiled at him. “So what do you think? What is your professional opinion? Remember I will respect it highly.”

  He took a deep breath and put his businessman tie on. “There are two spas in Willow already, not to crush your sister’s dream, but that would be stiff competition especially since the population of Willow Valley is left with only one half the population in the winter. However, there are no natural soap stores in Willow Valley. All natural, homemade seems to be on the rise as people are becoming more aware of what they are consuming and using in regards to the ingredients on the label. I definitely feel the all-natural body soap shop would be something worth looking into, worth trying to get the funds to start it. But you would have to look into whether one business in a seasonal town can support the four of you. You have to look at what your gross sales weekly would have to be to write out four paycheques plus pay all the bills. Since you are making the soap yourselves, consider looking into wholesaling it out yourselves. That would be an extra income since you are already producing large batches.”

  She nodded her head taking in his words. “You have good points I will definitely run by the girls.”

  “Does she have a financial plan?”

  “No.”

  “Does she have a business outline?”

  “At this point, no.”

  “Does she know how to make either?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t even know if she understands what either of those questions would mean.”

  “Are you sure she’s the best person to go into business with?” he teased.

  Her eyes lit up. “When did you become such a joker? You used to be all serious and quiet.”

  He liked the way her face lit up so feisty whenever he teased her. It had all started in the sauna when he took his bad day out on her and she retaliated in a saucy little fight back. “A little bit of you must have rubbed off on me before you left.”

  Her smile dropped like a kite from the sky with no wind and her eyes landed at her half empty glass of wine. It was such a touchy topic for her. It seemed to bother her more than it bothered him and it really damn well bothered him. He let her chew on her lip for a few minutes lost in her own thoughts before he reached over and lifted her chin with his fingers. “Hey,” he said quietly.

  Her hand moved against his and pressed his palm against her soft, warm cheek. She closed her eyes. He wanted to kiss her eyelids, her cheek, her jaw line, her throat, down underneath the robe where the rest of her warm, soft skin was hiding. When she looked up he found his own desire reflected in her eyes. He wondered how she left him if she felt the same way towards him as he felt towards her. He would have never left her. What was it out there that she had found that was better than all their feelings at that exact moment?

  “Why did you come out with me today?”

  He had no idea. Why did he sneak out to meet her in town late at night when they were young? There was something about her that he had never been able to resist. “I can’t say no to you.”

  “You should have.” Her hand fell and again her eyes trailed back to her wine glass.

  There were things in his life he regretted like not fighting harder when she left, or not bonding with his father earlier in life, but sitting right where he was at that moment didn’t even make the list. “I didn’t want to.” He ran his finger under her chin again and slowly lifted her eyes back to his. “Did you want me to?”

  She stared at him long and hard as if bouncing the question around in her head and then finally shook her head and whispered, “No.”

  “I want to kiss you.”

  Her lips parted in a quiet gasp. She bit her bottom lip before letting them purse out again.

  “I don’t want any mixed signals.” She had made it clear this was going nowhere two weeks ago, but now he saw in her eyes the same desire he’d seen in that sauna. “I want to kiss you Katherine McAdams. Do you want me to kiss you?”

  Time stood still as she contemplated his question and it felt like forever. He knew she wanted this as much as he did. He had been with other women and never was the desire between them this thick, this strong and every time it was his bank account they were after and not his heart. And it hadn’t mattered anyway because he had given his heart away a long time ago and when Kate left she had taken it with h
er. Now that she was back he felt his heart racing off the charts for her.

  “Yes,” she finally breathed.

  Marc couldn’t have waited another second if he tried, he leaned in and felt her tense body ease under his touch. He bent down and pressed against the forbidden, dangerous desire of her taunting lips. Her wine flavoured tongue pressed deeper into his mouth wanting to explore as much as him. He felt her hand snake around his neck and her legs falling allowing her knees to sink into the sofa in front of her propping her body up. She thrust her body against him and his body moved without instruction onto his knees. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her body harder against him, hungry to feel her every curve. The deliciousness of her mouth was the very cause of their separation, when she spilled the glass of wine she’d awkwardly been holding between them and shrieked pulling away as the liquid began to soak through their robes.

  She stared down at the empty glass in her hand and the red stain on the front of her white robe. She looked up at him horrified, her eyes glazed, then burst into laughter.

  Marc took the half full glass of wine he’d managed not to spill on her and her empty glass and reached over setting them on the table.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “You don’t look very sorry.”

  She covered her mouth. “I am, I swear.”

  He grabbed her robe belt and hauled her body back against his. “I don’t know what we are doing Marc,” she said.

  He pulled the tie on her robe lose. “I am getting you out of these wet clothes.”

  She smiled, the moment of reflection lost as she watched her robe part open. “How thoughtful of you.”

  “It’s a very selfish thought,” he said and she laughed snaking her arms around his neck. He balanced one of his feet on the ground and scooped her up into his arms and lifted her up dropping them both backwards on the couch with her landing directly underneath him, her robe flying open in the process. He eyed her naked body.

  “Let me show you how thoughtful I can be,” she said reaching down to his robe tie.