A Fortune in Waiting

by Michelle Major

  Francesca gripped the edge of the kitchen table until her knuckles turned white. “I’m not,” she said through clenched teeth, “looking for a man to take care of me. I’ve got a job, Mom. I’m getting a college degree. I have every intention of supporting myself.”

  “I’m not trying to ruffle your feathers,” her mom replied. “But it’s hard making your way in the world alone. I know. I want what’s best for you.”

  “And you think being with a man who cheats is the best I can do?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. Just go into this relationship with Keaton with your eyes open.”

  “We’ve been on two dates,” Francesca shouted.

  Paige crossed her arms over her chest. “You know what men expect on the third.”

  Francesca stood up from the table so fast she knocked over her chair. She shoved the barely eaten hamburger, fries and the empty soda cup into the paper bag. “I’m not having this conversation.”

  “I’m looking out for you,” her mother said, a slight catch in her voice. She stood, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “Please don’t go away mad. I love when you visit, Frannie. Let’s watch a show. I DVRed some totally cheesy reality TV dating shows this week.” Tears began to pool in her eyes.

  Her mother had always been a crier, and Francesca was a sucker for tears. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said as she righted the chair and threw her garbage into the trash can under the sink. “I know you worry. I’m going to be careful with Keaton.” She washed her hands, dried them on a towel then turned and gave her mother a hug. “But please don’t talk to Lou.”

  “I won’t.” Her mother sniffed then hugged her back. “I know you can take care of yourself, and I’m so proud of you. You’re smart and beautiful and you deserve the best life has to offer. That’s all I want for you. I want you to feel special and loved. Choose a man who can love you like that, Frannie.”

  “I will,” Francesca answered, although she wasn’t sure she’d recognize that kind of love. Could Keaton be that man for her? It was silly to even consider it. They’d had two dates and whatever emotional bond she felt toward him, he’d made it clear that he was just having fun.

  “Let’s check out Dating in the Wild,” her mother said as she stepped into the living room.

  Francesca followed. Her relationship with her mother might not be perfect, but she knew her mom’s intentions were good.

  Even if Keaton was completely turned off by her behavior last night, Francesca had a full life and she could return to how things were before she’d met him.

  Even if the thought of it made her heart ache.

  * * *

  Keaton’s mood was as dark as the stormy sky over the city when he walked into Lola May’s Monday evening. He’d had a frustrating day of fruitless searching for leads on one of Gerald’s potential offspring. The information he had on the Frenchman tracking down a possible sibling seemed reliable, but he couldn’t seem to get in touch with the man.

  Then the general contractor on the Austin Commons project had run into an issue with one of his subcontractors. The stone they’d special ordered for the office space on the south side of the building was on backorder for at least a month, which would put the rest of that segment of the project on hold for six weeks or more. The mason they’d planned to use wasn’t available past the middle of February, and it would derail the schedule for the rest of the building if he couldn’t find someone to replace the master stone craftsman.

  But the worst part of his day—the part that had him craving a stiff drink instead of the iced tea he’d get at Lola May’s—was the fact that he’d texted Francesca this morning and only received a generic one-word response from her. Maybe he’d been an idiot to expect more after their last date, but he wanted it. One of the most difficult things he’d done in his life had been to walk away from Francesca last night when she’d been so clearly racked with the same need that gripped him every time he was near her.

  She’d looked so beautiful standing in the doorway of her apartment, her blond hair cascading over her shoulders and her lips pink and swollen from his kisses. But even though she’d seemed interested in taking things further, he also realized she’d had too much to drink. He had no intention of taking advantage of her.

  He hadn’t wanted to scare her off with his kisses, which it seemed was exactly what he’d done. His gaze immediately darted to the corner booth where he was used to seeing her study. A couple he didn’t recognize occupied it tonight, sending a little pang of disappointment through him.

  Lola May waved him over to the counter and he smiled, surreptitiously scanning the rest of the diner as he approached.

  “Good evening,” he said, sliding onto an empty stool. “I’ll have—”

  “She’s in the back,” Lola May told him. “My office is past the stockroom through the kitchen.”

  He didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t understand who she was talking about. “I’m not sure she wants to see me.”

  “Are you joking?” The older woman chuckled. “Honey, that accent of yours makes you sound real smart, but sometimes I wonder if you’ve got as many rocks for brains as the other guys sniffing around our girl.”

  “What other guys?” Keaton asked, his shoulders stiffening.

  “Just about every man who walks through that door and gets a look at her. Francesca isn’t a woman who blends into a crowd.”

  “I realize that, but—”

  “Don’t worry.” Lola May placed a hand on Keaton’s sleeve. “She hasn’t given anyone the time of day for ages.” She gently squeezed his arm. “Until you. She’s been a bundle of nerves all night wondering when you’d come in, so I finally sent her to my office so she could concentrate on her schoolwork. That girl has a future beyond this diner, and I’m going to make sure she doesn’t jeopardize it.” She leaned in closer. “Not for anyone.”

  “I’m not a threat to her future.” Keaton bristled at the suggestion, even as an uncomfortable feeling crawled across his back, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. He might not be a threat, but he also couldn’t offer Francesca what she needed or deserved. He wasn’t built for love, not after all he’d seen and experienced in his life. He shook his head, realizing he was getting ahead of himself. They’d only had two dates. It was far too early to worry about the future. “I want to make her happy.”

  Lola May studied him for a few moments then nodded. “We’ve got a roast chicken special tonight. You go check on Francesca and I’ll bring your food to you when it’s ready. I’ll add a slice of fresh-baked lemon meringue pie to the order. Now get goin’.”

  Having been raised by his mother and her gaggle of nosy, overinvolved friends, Keaton was used to bossy women. Hearing Lola May tell him how to live his life didn’t bother him in the least. In fact, it was one of the things that made this restaurant feel like home. Grinning, he stood from the counter and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “You keep that up,” she said with a wink, “and I may keep you for myself.”

  As he walked toward the back of the diner, he could feel the eyes of the other customers on him. A waitress he recognized as Francesca’s roommate gave him a thumbs-up sign and one of the old men who was a regular at the diner clapped him on the back.

  “Good luck, son,” the man told him. “Frannie’s a keeper.”

  Did everyone know his business? Keaton threw a glance over his shoulder at Lola May, who shrugged as if to say “Deal with it, buddy.”

  He’d never liked being fodder for the gossip mill among his social circle in London. Yet the attention from the diner regulars didn’t bother him as much as he would have expected. Francesca was worth having his personal life on display.

  One of the guys working the kitchen’s grill waved as if he’d been expecting him. The second cook did some aggressive choppi
ng, his gaze trained on Keaton the whole time he wielded the knife.

  The scene almost made him smile. He’d never been put on notice with a woman before, and he was glad Francesca had so many people looking out for her.

  The door to Lola May’s office was half-open, and he could see Francesca at the desk. Her back was to him as her fingers flew across the keyboard of her laptop. The room was tiny, no more than a converted supply closet. Bookshelves filled with binders lined one wall, and a massive metal file cabinet was lodged in the corner.

  He knocked softly on the door and she whirled around in her chair.

  “Hey,” she said on a shallow breath.

  “Hullo, Francesca. Do you have time for a study break?”

  “Of course.” She flipped closed the laptop and gestured to the chair across from the desk. “It’s nice to see you.”

  Nice.

  He didn’t want nice from this woman, but he smiled.

  “How was the rest of your weekend?”

  A rush of color stained her cheeks. “Fine.”

  Fine was worse than nice as far as Keaton was concerned.

  “Did you have a relaxing Sunday?”

  She nodded. “I spent the afternoon with my mom.”

  “That’s...uh...nice.” He couldn’t figure out how to pull the conversation out of the tailspin it was in. It was like they were strangers again with so many awkward pauses and so much small talk between them.

  “Um, Keaton...” Her gaze flitted to his, then skittered away.

  He shifted in the chair. “Yes, Francesca?”

  “I think I owe you an apology.” Her voice was so soft he had to lean forward to make out her words.

  “I doubt that,” he answered, “but tell me why you think so.”

  “It probably makes me sound like a ninny, but I don’t usually drink more than a glass of wine in a night.”

  He chuckled, unable to stop himself. Her delicate brows drew together and he immediately held up his hands, palms out. “I’m sorry. I’ve never heard anyone except my mum actually use the word ninny.”

  She made a face. “Well, at least you know what it means. Anyway, I think I drank a little too much on Saturday night.”

  “We shared one bottle of wine,” he clarified. “Not quite a wild bender.”

  “Maybe not for you. But it was more than I’m used to.”

  “I take it you were feeling a bit tore up Sunday morning?”

  “If that means I had a hangover, then yes,” she admitted. “But I’m more concerned with my behavior Saturday night. I tried to take advantage of you. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

  Bloody hell.

  Keaton stared at her for longer than was polite, not sure how to respond. He’d been damned uncomfortable at the end of the date, but only because he’d forced himself to pull away from her when all he’d wanted was to sweep her into his arms and carry her to bed.

  And she was apologizing for being too forward?

  In all his days Keaton had never craved a woman the way he did Francesca. He’d tried to take things slow so as not to spook her, but to know that she might desire him with the same sort of intensity made a strange kind of peace descend over him. She wasn’t blowing him off as he’d feared. He had to resist the urge to pump his fist in the air.

  “Now I’ve made things more awkward.” She practically leaped from her chair like she was about to bolt from the room.

  He reached for her, grabbing her wrist and tugging her into his lap.

  She gave a little “oof” then lifted her hands to his chest. He wasn’t sure whether she was holding on or pushing him away so he looped his arms around her waist.

  “We need to begin this conversation again,” he said gently and kissed the tip of her nose. “Hullo, Francesca.” He brushed his lips across her cheek. “I hope you enjoyed the rest of your weekend.” He trailed his mouth over her jaw. “Leaving you,” he whispered then gently sucked her earlobe into his mouth, “was pure torture for me. I’ve thought about you every moment since then.”

  She let out a little gasp, whether from his words or his touch he couldn’t tell. He also didn’t care.

  “I’ve been counting the minutes until I could see you again.” He pulled back so their gazes met. “Until I could kiss you again.” Tilting his head, he captured her mouth, not bothering with gentle or slow. He showed her exactly how much he’d missed her.

  After a few minutes, she broke the connection. Looking at him tentatively she asked, “So you didn’t mind me attacking you?”

  “If that was an attack,” he said, nipping at the corner of her mouth. “you can assault me any day. Is that why I received a generic response to my text?”

  “I was embarrassed. I know you were trying to take things slow and—”

  “Because I respect you,” he told her. “I don’t want you to think I’m only interested in you physically.” He tapped a fingertip on her forehead. “I’m fascinated by the way your mind works and...” He reached for her hand then pressed her palm to her chest, covering her hand with his. “I’m captivated by the way you care about the people in your life. Make no mistake, I want you. But even more, I want to get to know you. That’s why I’m not rushing things.” He could feel her heart thrumming and the knowledge of how he affected her made him want to share more of himself. More than he had with anyone before. “You mean the world to me, and I’ll wait as long as it takes for this to be right for both of us. Every moment we have together is precious. I wouldn’t change a thing about us, Francesca. You are too important to me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Francesca’s heart soared at Keaton’s words.

  “You’re important to me, too,” she said softly.

  “So tell me about what you’re so intently studying tonight,” he told her.

  Francesca paused before answering. Although both Lola May and Ciara supported her goal of getting her college degree, neither one of them seemed to care about the details of her course work. She rarely talked about school with her mother, either, because her mom didn’t place much value on higher education. Other than her friends from school, there wasn’t anyone else she could talk to about her studies. But Keaton asked her questions about her courses every time they were together and really seemed to care about the answers. It was one more way he was slowly slipping past her defenses.

  “I’m working on my ad campaign project.” She took a breath then rested her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for putting me in touch with the marketing director at Austin Commons. She’s been a huge help by giving me access to some of their initial planning. She likes that I have a history with the neighborhood and how my project focuses on the balance of bringing new customers to the area and serving the current community. We have a meeting set up later this week to discuss my initial concepts.”

  “Sounds like a good match,” he said.

  “I’m definitely more confident in marketing than in my accounting class.” She lifted her head and flashed him a grin. “But I forgot to tell you, I got my grade back Friday on the test. A ninety-four.”

  “Congratulations,” he said, kissing her again. “You worked hard for that A.”

  “With your help.”

  “I was happy to give it.”

  She glanced behind her at the open door. “Did you come in for dinner?”

  “I came in to see you,” he told her. “But, yes, I’m having dinner, as well. Lola May said she’d bring it to me here.”

  “Oh, no.” She scrambled out of his lap, smoothing her shirt down over her hips. “We’ve got to get out there now.”

  He chuckled. “You do realize we’re both adults and she’s not your mother?”

  “Well, yes,” she answered, grabbing her laptop from the desk. “But Lola May is the
biggest gossip in the neighborhood. If she caught me in your lap, everyone in the diner would know in minutes. Heck, she’d probably post it in the neighborhood newsletter.”

  “Would that be so bad?” he asked as he stood. “Based on everyone’s reaction to me coming back here to find you, we aren’t a huge secret.”

  She’d made it as far as the doorway and turned to face him. “Austin is a big city but this neighborhood functions like a small town. I don’t mind people knowing, but I’m not looking to be the topic of conversation for anyone.” She rose up on tiptoe to kiss him. “As far as I’m concerned, this is between us.”

  She wasn’t certain, but Keaton seemed to let out a relieved breath at her words. “I like the sound of that,” he said. “I like everything about you, Francesca.”

  “Right back at you.” She kissed him again then headed through the kitchen. She stopped long enough to introduce Keaton to Richard and his brother, Jon, the two cooks who ran the kitchen at Lola May’s. The men had worked at the diner since she’d started as a waitress in high school. Over the years they’d become like surrogate uncles to her. In a strange way she wanted them to approve of Keaton.

  It only took a few minutes before Richard invited Keaton to go four-wheeling with them the following weekend. For a suave Brit who favored expensive clothes and designer shoes, Keaton had remarkable skill at convincing people he was just a regular guy. She wasn’t sure if the two salt-of-the-earth kitchen workers knew about his connection to the Fortunes, but now that they’d accepted him it wouldn’t matter. Keaton was in as far as they were concerned. Francesca couldn’t help but compare that to how Richard and Jon had treated Lou the Louse. In all the years he’d come into the diner during high school or when his tour dates brought him back to Austin, the men had barely said two words to him.

  It made her heart feel a little lighter knowing the people who mattered to her accepted Keaton. If she had any question about that, it was answered when they walked out from the kitchen to a round of cheers from the regular Monday night crowd.