The Wish Maker (The Billionaires 0f Silicon Forest Book 2)

by Melissa McClone

  On his way downstairs, he heard Christmas music playing. The festive song had a fast beat. Someone sang along, off-key but full of enthusiasm.

  A smile spread across his face. Whoever was singing was enjoying herself. He went into the kitchen.

  Paige stood at the island’s counter, belting out a lyric about what she wanted for Christmas. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. She wore a robe over her pajamas and no makeup. A smudge of flour stained her cheek.

  Beautiful.

  As she pressed a circle cookie cutter into rolled-out dough on a large cutting board, she sang another verse, shimmying her shoulders and bopping to the beat.

  Something in Wes’s chest shifted. Two tectonic plates colliding. The earth didn’t shake, but his heart felt as if it skipped a beat. Okay, three.

  Paige cooking in his kitchen was wholesome and sweet, yet his attraction increased exponentially, sending his temperature rising. Each nerve ending stood at alert, eager for something. He had no idea what, but if Santa was taking requests, Wes wanted Paige for Christmas.

  He wet his lips.

  She captivated him.

  Forget hearing “I don’t.”

  He wanted her to say “I do.”

  Whoa. Where had that come from?

  Wes must be more tired than he realized because that was the last thing he needed. He had a plan where women were concerned.

  No dating. No relationship. Nothing.

  Time to stop mooning like a lovestruck teenager. He cleared his throat.

  She glanced up, her lips parting as if surprised to see him.

  “Good morning.” Wes sat on the opposite side of the island as if everything was okay and he wouldn’t be calling his therapist tomorrow to find out what was wrong with him. “You’re up early.”

  “My internal alarm clock makes sleeping in difficult. It goes off at six no matter what.”

  He glanced in the great room. No one else was there. “Have you seen Nora?”

  “She ran to the market to get more strawberries. The ones in the refrigerator had mold.” Paige raised the cookie cutter. “I offered to help with brunch so she asked me to make the biscuits.”

  “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

  “It’s my first time, but Nora is a good teacher. She said they’re hard to mess up.”

  “That’s a strong vote of confidence.”

  “I know, right?” Paige washed her hands before pouring coffee into a mug and adding a dash of cream the way he liked it. She gave him the cup. “Nora also said you’re not a functional human being until you drink your first coffee.”

  Steam rose from the cup. He sniffed the fragrant aroma. “I’m not that bad.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Paige returned to cutting the dough and placing the circles on a baking sheet. “She said to limit conversation, or you’ll get snippy. That surprised me. You don’t strike me as a little ankle-biter dog. You’re more of a retriever or lab.”

  Wes focused on the coffee. He took a sip. Hot and strong. Just what he needed. He drank more. The warm mug heated the palms of his hands.

  “I’m functional now,” he announced. “No snipping or barking.”

  Laughing, she put the sheet in the oven, closed the door, and set the timer.

  Another taste and he felt nearly human. “Sleep well?”

  “The bed is so comfortable, and those pillows are like sleeping on clouds.” Paige rolled out a new batch of dough. “You look a little tired.”

  “I am.” He watched as a flurry of emotions crossed her face, but seeing the concern made him want to speak up. “Before you go all doctor on me, I feel fine. I just didn’t sleep well.”

  The set of her jaw and the lines above her nose were typical of her Dr. Regis persona. Funny, but now he almost thought of her as two different people—the oncologist and the woman.

  “Do you know why?” she asked.

  Saying “you” might not go over well, but he didn’t want to lie. “My brain wouldn’t settle.”

  That much was true, but she was the reason.

  “It was a full day.” She didn’t sound convinced that was his reason. “More coffee?”

  “Nora trained you well, but I have half a cup left.”

  “What kept your brain awake?” Paige asked.

  Wes should have known she’d ask. His fault because he’d opened the door to the question. For all he knew, Paige had figured it out for herself. Might as well say it. “You.”

  The cookie cutter slipped from her hand and clattered against the cutting board. “Me?”

  Her reaction told him she hadn’t known. Interesting. “I enjoy spending time with you. Kissing you. Yet—”

  “You’re used to getting what you want.”

  It wasn’t a question. “I am, but only if someone else wants that, too. That, however, didn’t stop the entitled me from pouting.”

  She laughed. “Pouting?”

  “As much as a thirty-five-year-old man can pout when he’s disappointed.”

  “I’m… I’m not sorry for how I feel.”

  “I don’t need an apology.”

  Paige picked up the cookie cutter, but she didn’t cut into the dough. “Is saying ‘it’s not you but me’ too cliché?”

  That made him laugh. “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Whether or not it’s true.”

  “It is.” She didn’t hesitate to answer him. “If I was looking for casual fun, you’d be number one on my list.”

  His chest thrust out. Not what he wanted, but he’d take it. “Except you don’t want that.”

  “I don’t.”

  Wes forced himself not to flinch. He hated those two words.

  “At the coffee shop, you mentioned not wanting to change your relationship status,” she continued.

  “I did, and I don’t.” Great, now he was saying it. “You, however, want what you told Santa. I mean, me.”

  She nodded, not an ounce of regret or remorse showing on her face.

  Her certainty struck a chord inside him.

  “I don’t think I realized how much I wanted it until that day. I mean, I knew it in theory, but saying the words aloud to Santa like that…” A flush rose up her neck to her face. She blew out a breath. “I honestly never thought I’d be thirty-seven, single, and no date on the horizon.”

  He wanted to kiss away her frustration.

  Don’t even think about it, Lockhart.

  “What did you think would happen?” he asked.

  She half laughed. “That I’d get married after college. Then I was sure it would happen after med school. Then following my residency. Yet, here I am today, the same as I was each of those times. Still wanting something I can’t have.”

  He understood how she felt. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get married.”

  “No, but it’s not something I can do on my own. Which is why I’m single. Finding someone who I’m compatible with, and falling in love is hard. I keep telling myself it’ll happen, but not everyone is looking for forever.”

  “No, but you can’t give up. Believing you’ll find what you want is the first step,” he encouraged, wanting to make her smile. “Staying focused is the second. But doing what’s right for you is the most important. That’s what you did with me last night, and it’s how I’ve gotten through every challenge facing me.”

  “And made billions.”

  And got better with his healthcare team’s help and a large amount of luck.

  Wes nodded. “Keep at it until you get what you want.”

  She studied him like he was a lab specimen. All that was missing was a slide and a microscope. “You mean that.”

  It wasn’t a question. “I do, even if it sucks for me.”

  She laughed. “Not for long. You’ll be out having fun with your friends while I’m watching television or reading, trying to figure out a way to find a guy who wants the same things I do.”

  Wes knew she would succeed. �
�I would like to know one thing, but you don’t have to answer if it’s too personal.”

  “What is it?”

  “You don’t date casually, but how do you know if you want to have a relationship with someone if you don’t go out with them?”

  “So first off,” she said playfully. “I’ve never gone on a first date and had the colors for the wedding picked out and our children named by the time we said goodnight.”

  “You wait until the second date?” he teased.

  “The fourth or fifth,” Paige joked. “I date the same as other people. Usually an initial meetup over coffee followed by a meal if we see each other again. But going out with someone not interested in having a relationship is a waste of time. That’s what I mean about not dating casually.”

  “Makes sense.” Knowing he fell into her waste-of-time category bristled.

  “I wish I could meet someone, have everything click, and be in a committed relationship. That would be so much easier.”

  He thought about Adam, Kieran, Mason, and Blaise who’d married this year. All four had fallen hard and fast and couldn’t be happier. “You need to fall in love at first sight.”

  She eyed him warily. “You believe that happens?”

  “I’ve seen it with my friends.”

  Paige shrugged. “I’m not sure love at first sight exists. Other things could explain the immediate attraction.”

  “Wait a minute.” Wes couldn’t believe what she was saying. “You make wishes. You confide in Santa. Christmas magic is real for you. How can you not believe in love at first sight?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I understand the chemical reactions in the brain that occur when two people are attracted to each other too well.” Paige pressed the circle into the dough but left it there. Her face pinched. “Or maybe I’ve never met anyone who made me believe it could be true.”

  Her wistful tone gave him a glimpse of her vulnerability and her heart. Despite her words, she wanted to believe.

  He forced himself to stay seated and not move closer to her. “Once you meet the right person, you’ll know.”

  “Know what?” she asked.

  When you know, you know.

  Dash had said that. Maybe that was why things were working out so well between Wonderkid and Raina. “You are with the one you’re meant to be with.”

  “I wish it worked that way. The truth is, I might be too jaded after trying dating apps and going on a few uncomfortable blind dates.”

  Wes’s shoulders bunched. The image of her going out with total strangers set him on edge. What if the guy was dangerous? People joked about meeting axe murderers, but the news was full of scary stories.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t know where to start.” She sounded more amused than horrified. “Let’s just say whenever we made it past the initial dates, my job somehow ended up getting in the way.”

  Paige deserved better. She needed someone who was supportive of the work she did. Not jealous of the time she spent helping her patients.

  “You’re smart and beautiful. Any man would be lucky to date you. Which tells me you haven’t met the right guy yet.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled softly. “Maybe I should forget what I’ve been doing and try something new.”

  “Like what?”

  “Hire Hadley,” Paige said matter of fact. “According to Raina, Hadley has an excellent success rate with her matchmaking service.”

  If anyone could help Paige, Hadley could. Wes’s stomach churned. He sipped his coffee. That didn’t help.

  Wes didn’t want to encourage her, but he had to say something. “They don’t call Hadley the wife finder for nothing.”

  “Dash met Raina through Hadley.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you met someone, too.”

  Surprised, Wes lowered his mug. “Did Hadley tell you that?”

  “Raina told me.”

  That was okay, then. Hadley promised to protect her clients’ privacy, so he’d hoped she wasn’t discussing him to Paige or anyone. “I only agreed to use Hadley’s services out of my friendship with Blaise. I said I’d go out on one date, and I did. Nothing else happened.”

  Paige cut more biscuits. “Based on your experience, would you recommend Hadley?”

  Wes’s collar seemed to tighten. He swallowed. “Whether you want a wife or a husband, Hadley Lowell Mortenson is the best matchmaker in the business. She’s expensive, but she’s worth the investment if marriage to the love of your life is your end goal.”

  “Good to know.”

  “But Hadley’s services can’t be rushed.”

  “I’m not in a hurry.” Paige placed the circles of dough on a second baking sheet. “I’m just exploring my options. To be honest, I can’t see dating or having a relationship until the cancer center is underway.”

  That would be months from now. Relief surged through him. Not that he cared what she did. Okay, maybe a little. “You have time to figure things out.”

  She nodded. “I don’t have years to wait, but birthrates have risen for mothers in their forties. So I’m not alone in waiting until I’m older. Though it is harder to get pregnant.”

  He assumed Paige knew that from her medical training, but maybe she’d been doing some research. He drank more.

  “And if I don’t find Mr. Right in the next year or two,” she continued. “I can use a sperm donor.”

  Wes spewed a mouthful of coffee over the breakfast bar. He swiped his hand across his face. “Sorry.”

  She grabbed paper towels and cleaned up his mess. “Did I surprise you?”

  More like shocked.

  Until his diagnosis, Wes had thought little about being a dad, but his health care team, including Paige, had suggested he freeze his sperm before chemotherapy, so he had. Not that he planned to defrost those swimmers. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

  Her lips narrowed. “It’s a valid backup plan if a woman wants children.”

  Which she did. Only Wes had thought kids were part of a bigger dream with a spouse, not something she’d pursue on her own. Having a baby wasn’t like walking into an animal rescue and adopting a dog or cat.

  He set his cup on the counter. “Yes…”

  Her gaze pierced into him. “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

  “But raising a child on your own is tough. Hadley’s sister, Fallon, is divorced with two kids, and she’s always exhausted.”

  She had moved her family to Portland from San Francisco with Hadley. All of them except Henry, who didn’t work, offered Fallon a job. She chose the one with Dash’s company. She was doing well there, but she also had Blaise and Hadley nearby to help as needed. Paige had mentioned her family was on the East Coast. Not exactly babysitting distance. But she seemed the type who could handle it better than most.

  “Though if anyone could do it successfully, you could,” he clarified.

  “Thanks.” Her gaze softened. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me.”

  “You’ve been hanging around the wrong people.”

  She laughed. “Maybe I have.”

  The timer buzzed. Paige put on an oven mitt and pulled out the biscuits. They were golden brown.

  The fresh-baked aroma made his mouth water. “They look like Nora’s.”

  Paige’s face brightened. “I hope they taste as good as hers, too.”

  “I’ll try one and let you know.”

  “Taking one for the team?” she asked.

  “Always.”

  She placed a biscuit on a paper towel and set it in front of him. “It’s hot.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Wes blew on the biscuit and then tore off a piece. He took a bite. Light, flaky, perfect. “Delicious.”

  Her smile widened. “Making them is easier than I thought it would be.”

  “Many things are.” Wes ate more. “Trying something for the first time is the hardest part.”

  A thoughtful expression crossed Paige’
s face before she raised a brow. “Speaking from experience?”

  He shifted on the barstool. “It’s a piece of advice from Nora.”

  “A good one.”

  Wes nodded. Before being diagnosed, he never hesitated trying anything whether in business or his personal life. Now, a list of cons—all the things that could go wrong—crept up, which made him hesitate. Nora said he’d get over it. So did his therapist. But Wes wasn’t as certain. He’d changed. Some differences made him better, but others, like this one, didn’t.

  “Do you follow it?” Paige’s words held a challenge.

  “Sometimes.” That was as honest an answer as he could give. But it made him think. Nora had more common sense and street smarts than most people Wes knew. Maybe he should follow her advice.

  Especially where Paige was concerned.

  What was the worst thing that could happen?

  An image of Annabelle flashed in his mind.

  Nope. Not happening.

  Wes blinked. Once, twice, until it disappeared.

  Paige was different.

  He enjoyed talking to her like this. They got along in a way he hadn’t with another woman. Not since…he couldn’t remember the last time.

  All he needed to do was figure out what they could be to each other so he could see her again. Perhaps…friends?

  He rolled the word over in his head.

  Friends would be great.

  Well, good.

  Okay, better than nothing.

  Yes, friends.

  Wes only hoped Paige would be on board.

  Guess he would find out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Coming home Sunday afternoon to an empty condo was surprisingly uncomfortable for Paige. Oh, she was happy to be back when she set her bag on the hardwood floor, hung her purse on the hook by the door, and removed her snow boots. But something felt…off.

  Normally, she relished the silence following a busy day, but after the boisterous weekend in Hood Hamlet, especially the loud brunch that morning, the quiet irritated her more than it soothed.

  Paige bypassed the kitchen and went into the living room, trying to understand. Everything was clean and in its place, other than the stack of boxes and bins of Christmas decorations and the stepladder she’d carried up from her storage closet. Even the philodendron was green and thriving. She touched the potting soil. Still damp.