Her feet came unglued from the floor and she rushed toward him, grabbing him by the arm to stop him and turn him toward her. “I’m sorry. I’m being a dork.”
He grinned. “What happened between us is no reason we can’t be friends. That day in the pool came about naturally. Passionate and strong. There’s nothing wrong with it. At least I didn’t think so.”
“You’re right.” And he was. Their friendship may have started out odd, but they’d always been able to talk. “I’m sorry. The…well, the sex thing threw me. I’m a big girl, but I can’t help feeling awkward about what happened. Even after our talk, I don’t want you to think I’m like that, or that there’s a chance…” She bit her tongue to stop from rambling. She took in several gulps of air and rested her rear against the counter.
“I’m a good person, Jill. I wish you’d see that. I’m not waiting for the next opportunity to jump you in the darkened hallways of my house, you know.”
She hated the defeat in his voice. Defeat wasn’t his style.
“We’re both adults, things got out of hand.”
“I know. I’m being…being immature.” It wasn’t like he would brag in the gym locker room and soil her rep.
He nodded, not meeting her gaze. Her stomach lurched again.
“I talked with Gretchen earlier. She eased some doubts I had about you.”
“What doubts?” Finally, he looked at her, but his expression revealed nothing.
“The other night at the dinner party. Gina…she kind of said…she implied…” Her chest pinched. This couldn’t be happening. The talk she planned wasn’t starting out the way she’d intended. Like coherent.
He grumbled in his throat, then leaned against the counter next to her, arms folded across his chest. “I should have trusted my instincts when Gina wanted to stay and help you clean up. The only type of help Gina can manage is helping herself. What tale did the lovely Gina dispense?”
His voice held a thread of sarcasm. Hope swelled her chest. She shared her conversation with Barracuda in a steady stream of words, hardly taking a breath between sentences. “I hate to admit it, but I even suspected you of using me to make her jealous.”
He searched her face. “Not a chance. I have no illusions about Gina.”
“I feel bad for Howard.”
“You and me both.” He shook his head, then muttered under his breath, “And this is why I don’t get involved with women long term.”
Jill wasn’t sure if he realized he’d spoken out loud, but she ignored his comment. Her Internet research made mention of his numerous women, and how he’d avoided the altar. No more detail than the bare minimum, but his little confession clued her in more than he probably intended.
“Gina is right about one thing. We do have a history. But history is the operative word.”
Was she supposed to probe for more information or sit there and hope he elaborated? She opted to wait. He ran his hand through his already tousled hair. So adorable, she wanted to comfort him, ease his pain.
“I met Gina about the time things at Castle Engineering started to turn around. She has a keen sense of sound, especially when it involves money and bank vaults.” He chuckled, but it lacked humor. “Back then the dazzling Gina had long, flowing black hair that matched her eyes and a seductive body and voice that could lead a man by the nose off the side of a cliff.”
Jill swallowed hard at the pain in his voice. Not much about the woman had changed, besides hair color. She’d hurt Chet. Deeply.
“I fell for her hard. So hard, it’s embarrassing.”
So embarrassing, he would never let himself repeat it.
“My family saw right through her, but I didn’t listen. Didn’t want to. I couldn’t believe someone so remarkable bothered to give me the time of day, let alone agreed to marry me.”
Her heart slid to her stomach at that word bridging him to Gina.
“Then I found out almost everything that crossed her delectable lips were lies.”
“How?”
“Accident and luck. One of the suppliers for a project I was working on happened to be her first husband. He was very informative, thought it particularly funny when he found out we were engaged. Even shared how her family disowned her years before for her antics and lies.”
Jill’s heart slipped past her thighs to settle awkwardly in her knees, making it hard to remain standing. She sat with a thump on the wooden barstool by the counter.
“From there, I did a bit of investigating. Found out she had been married twice, engaged a few more times than that, and, unlike the fake degree framed in her apartment showing she’d graduated with honors from Yale in business, she’d actually dropped out of school her junior year.”
“Of college?”
“High school.”
“Oh.” This explained why he’d avoided the altar, or having a relationship that lasted any longer than the shelf life of a head of lettuce. Guilt washed over her for doubting him, for not listening to her inner voice. That voice had never led her astray.
Couple his involvement with Gina and his dealings with a few bad business partners and it was no wonder he had trust issues.
Her stomach tensed with nervous pressure, and for the third time today she fought the urge to lose her lunch. She wrapped her arms around her middle to ease the gurgling.
At least she had a better understanding of the man. Now she could deal with her own self doubts about what had happened between them. She squashed the urge to take him in her arms and give him a hug, rub the tension from his shoulders and back. That’d be a huge mistake. Instead, she stepped off the stool and walked behind the counter, separating them.
“I’m sorry, Chet.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“I think everyone has had some hard knocks in the relationship department.”
“You?”
“Of course. I’ve dated my share of jerks. I seem to be a magnet for men who don’t have a job or any ambition to get one. I mean, I’ve never been so deep into a relationship to consider marriage. I think Mel would’ve jolted me back to reality. None of the men in my life have been marriage material.” She forced a laugh, but he merely smiled.
“I don’t see the need to get married. It serves no purpose.”
“I don’t agree. There’s nothing better than having someone special to share your life with. Good and bad. After a long hard day, it’d be great to come home…” What the hell was she doing sharing her deepest thoughts with this man? She might as well tell him outright she crushed on him.
This man didn’t believe in commitment, let alone crushes and falling in love. She’d have more luck convincing a room full of bankers to give her a loan.
“You sound like my mother.”
“How’s that?”
“She’d have me believe relationships are all fuzzy kittens and fairy tales.” Soft lines etched the corners of his eyes, accentuating their deep color. Tendrils of hair fell across his forehead from the many times his fingers brushed through it. His normal immaculate style, a boyish contradiction of soft curls. “Sounds like you and she can compare notes this coming Sunday.”
Jill stood straight, shoulders back. “Sunday?”
“Sunday brunch this weekend.”
“Um…what?” She had no desire to get her feelings more involved with this man by meeting his family. If she liked his mother and his father half as much as she liked him, she’d be a goner for sure.
“It’s one afternoon. You can do it.” He cleared his throat. “Now that you know my intimate details of love and disaster, will you open the box?”
She dropped back to reality with an inner groan, then grinned. Chet rocked—ever so slightly—on the balls of his feet as he waited for her to lift the lid.
She rubbed her fingertips over the smooth velvet. She’d never received a gift in a velvet box from a man. Especially a man who was her boss turned friend. Her heart danced in a crazy rhythm at the idea he’d taken the time to buy her something. At least she ho
ped he’d taken the extra effort and hadn’t asked his secretary to choose it. They shared their smiles.
“Yes, I picked it out. Personally.”
She broke their gaze and lifted the lid of the box. Drat the man for using his psychic powers again.
A gasp escaped as she fingered a string of dazzling white pearls. They were perfect. Against the red backsplash of velvet, they gleamed up at her like boulders of wisdom. She choked back the truth of her feelings. If the next few weeks didn’t fly by, she could be in big trouble. Chet rambled on about something, but she couldn’t hear him very well over the rush of blood filling her ears.
“…and I know every fifties lady owned a set of pearls. I noticed you didn’t, so in order to say thanks for helping me out with the dinners and just being…well, being you, I wanted you to have these. And I also want you to take it as a bribe not to leave. Please stay, Jill.”
Her throat tightened and she blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. Not a time to turn girly and cry. She was amazed at his thoughtfulness. Even after he’d been nearly duped by Gina, he hadn’t let it twist his outlook too much. Okay, he wasn’t interested in any type of commitment, but he had a heart of gold. He was giving, caring, and… Well, he was wonderful. The perfect man.
She swallowed. Hard. The perfect man? Yep. He might be the perfect man in theory, but her perfect man wanted the same things in life she did.
And Chet Castle didn’t.
Chapter Fourteen
No time to go soft in the head.
Jill stood in front of her bedroom mirror. She turned from side to side, grabbed a bright red flower hair clip from her dresser, and clipped it into the thick headband holding her hair back. The final touch.
Perfect. The red picked up the color of the bow on her vintage sailor shirt and the accent buttons running the length of her navy blue shorts, three round buttons on each side.
She blew out a breath, her bangs fluttering with her effort.
Sunday morning, the day she’d meet Chet’s family. For the fourth time in the same amount of minutes she ran the brush down her hair. Nervous thrums pulsed against her ribs. She felt trapped, inadequate, and unable to function. Or breathe, for that matter.
If nothing else, her experience with Chet taught her two things: she didn’t think well under pressure and she possessed a faulty nervous system.
Sure, she wasn’t the most outgoing person in social situations, probably the main reason she and Mel got along so well, but she wasn’t one to feel unsure of herself, either. Ever since coming into contact with Chet, her confidence level had plummeted. First, the fear of dining with his well-educated business associates, and now his family.
She pinched the inside of her wrist.
Focus. Pull yourself together. You’re smart, funny, and able to hold an intelligent conversation. At least you used to be. Ugh!
The clock struck eight. Still early. She could change her clothes again, her hairstyle. Hell, maybe she could make a quick trip into town and visit Melba’s Vintage Closet and find a cute nautical sundress to go with the theme for today instead of her sailor shorts and shirt.
Not only was she meeting Chet’s family, but it would be on a boat no less. She tossed her hairbrush onto her dresser and pulled the large flower clip from her headband. She replaced it with a smaller one, same color.
She’d never been on a boat before. How would she handle the mixture of making conversation with Chet’s family and eating while cruising the high seas? She had no idea if she had sea legs, let alone a sea stomach.
A light tap on her door pulled her out of fret-mode.
“Jill, are you ready?”
She opened the door. Chet’s light musky scent wafted around her, calming her ragged nerves. “I thought we didn’t need to be there until ten?”
He thrust a hot pink travel mug in her hand and the smell of peppermint tea tickled her nostrils. The guy never ceased to impress. He remembered she preferred tea to coffee in the mornings.
Chet swallowed hard. His lips parted as if to say something, and then he cleared his throat. “You look spectacular.”
Her whole body blushed as he looked her over from head to toe in the most heated and sensual of inspections.
“Um…thank you.” Damn it, there was that sexy, breathy voice again.
“We should leave now. It’s a good ninety-minute drive to the lakeshore and I need to fill up on the way.”
Did the man never have a bad day? His hair looked perfect even though it was still damp from his recent shower. He wore a loose-fitting tee that didn’t hide the fact that his arms and chest were corded with muscle. His black shorts accentuated his dark, tanned legs, and even the well-worn flip-flops on his feet looked sexy.
Chet was the type of guy who could make socks with sandals drool-worthy.
“Come on, if we stand in your doorway all day, we’ll miss lunch.”
“Oh.”
“And I for one am dying to see what my mom’s decided on this Sunday.” He chuckled, and the tension clinging to her posture floated away.
The pressure of Chet’s palm at the small of her back guided her down the hall, the heat of his touch another comfort against her ever-present nerves.
“Your mom is cooking something special?”
His laughter filled the air around them, the rich sound releasing goose bumps along her skin. “My dad didn’t marry my mom for her abilities in the kitchen, but she’s the queen of takeout.”
“Oh.” Jeez, her word of the day wouldn’t impress a fly. “She’s not a cook?”
Duh, he just said that.
The slight tilt of his head and drawn brows made her wonder if he’d thought the same thing. He shrugged, then smiled. “Hardly. They met in college. Mom didn’t find her way to dad’s heart through his stomach, but with her brain. They were on the Dean’s list together.”
Great, meet the brainiacs. They’d probably be able to tell right away she wagered an internal battle against attraction to their oldest son.
They stepped into the garage. He opened the door to his silver sports car and helped her in. Thankful for the reprieve to gather her senses, Jill focused on Chet’s shoulder, not daring to meet his gaze.
“Are they psychic, too?” Jill couldn’t resist. She needed to know in advance if she were doomed.
He laughed, and the sincere sound worked magic. Her tense, bunched muscles eased.
“Mothers always seem to have psychic abilities. At least when it concerns their kids.”
“Oh.” If only she could think of something to say besides that one word.
Chet rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine. She leaned back, buckling her seatbelt as he shifted into drive, gunning the gas of the powerful engine, then roaring down the driveway.
“Did you tell your family about our agreement?” Muscles pinched along her back once more and she shifted in her seat. This had become not just nerve wracking but nerve damaging.
“I told them you’re in the beginning stages of starting your business. You’re working as my live-in chef while I get the fund-raising efforts out of the way, and in return I’m helping you build your rep.”
“Good.”
Once they hit the main road, Chet increased their speed and her head fell back against the soft leather headrest. His firm fingers held the steering wheel with a relaxed but sure grip.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go. They don’t need to meet me. I’m just the cook—and I’m not even cooking today.”
“For someone so confident in the kitchen, it sure doesn’t carry over to your social life. You’ll be fine. They’ll love you.” He gave her a smile before turning his attention back to the road.
“Think so?”
“I’m almost afraid how much.”
“Oh.” Whatever he meant by that, she didn’t want to know.
“Plus, Mom specifically asked you be there. Collette’s been raving about your cooking and the fact she plans to hire you for
an event. I don’t think my mom likes that she met you first.” His even tone sounded bored.
A ball of hysteria filled her. To meet his family and have them like her meant more to her than she imagined. Yes, she was sitting in the car, riding the open road with a man she not only desired and couldn’t get out of her mind, but one who invaded her thoughts so often and with such force she wasn’t sure how it happened.
Jill pinched the inside of her wrist. She needed the distraction of conversation in order to stop her mind from whirling.
“Tell me more about your family. I know about Jared, but what about your mother and father?” Impressed by her own calm voice, she prepared to concentrate on his soothing tone.
The soft sound of his chuckle sent prickles of awareness over her flesh. “You’re full of questions today.”
They shared a smile and she relaxed into the leather seat.
His fingers glided across the steering wheel as he turned the car onto the highway. Memories of him touching her skin with those same sure hands sent shivers down her back.
“Let’s see. Mom grew up traveling the country, competing in pageants. The money she earned with her wins helped put her through college. Dad’s family had the business and that was all he knew growing up. Most people can’t get over how much Jared and I look like Dad. They claim he cloned us.”
“I’m curious to meet him then because, like I said before, I can definitely see the similarities between you and Jared.” But you’re way better looking. She tried to wet her dry lips with her even drier tongue. Great, the brainiacs weren’t only smart, they were beautiful, too. Was his whole family overachievers? Next to them, what would she have to talk about that would be interesting? Cooking, her struggles of working her way through school, the trouble keeping a job, her dad walking out on her mom when Jill was only twelve? Yeah, she’d sound like a real prize then. They’d run her off for sure once they knew her history.
“What about your family? Brothers, sisters?” Chet downshifted, slowing before pulling out from behind another car, then shifting again to race past.
“Only child. My mom raised me. She lives here only a few months a year.”
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