Not In My Wildest Dreams (McKenna Series Book 2)

by Jamie Hollins

  “Sorry, Ma.” Sean leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek. She reached up to pat him gently on the side of his face with her mitt.

  “No bother. Now let’s go sit down. You know how my roast gets after it cools. It’ll get as tough as leather.”

  Sean widened his eyes at Megan as their mother turned on her heel and headed back toward the kitchen, heralding the tardy arrival of her younger child.

  “Leather? That’s putting it mildly.”

  Megan smiled at his comment before preceding him into the kitchen.

  Sean’s father was at his place at the head of the table. Sean nodded to him, and his dad winked back as he raised his half-empty mug of beer for a drink. Quinn was in the kitchen, emptying mashed potatoes into a serving dish as his mother placed the platter with the roast in the middle of the table.

  Sean headed toward Ewan, who was leaning against the far wall with his arms locked across his chest. The preferential treatment that Megan had received when they were growing up bothered him at times, but thank God for Ewan. His older cousin, who’d come to live with them from Northern Ireland when Sean was five years old, was his saving grace.

  Ewan was his true brother. Even though there was a four-and-a-half-year age difference, Ewan had never once made Sean feel like he wasn’t good enough or wasn’t wanted. He’d never grumbled (too loudly) about Sean tagging along with him. He’d always taken notice of what Sean was doing. And with his parents’ attention constantly spotlighted on his sister, Sean had appreciated Ewan’s interest.

  Sean had developed a huge respect for his cousin. Although the man was serious and reserved and his polar opposite in personality, Sean’s relationship with Ewan was one of the most important ones in his life.

  “Hey,” his cousin greeted him in the flat tone he reserved for pretty much everyone.

  Ewan looked about as happy to be there as Sean. Since his cousin was the family member who stayed closest to home, he had to endure a lot more dinners at the McKenna house than Sean or Megan. Ewan lived a mere five minutes away in his apartment over the pub he ran for Sean’s dad.

  But even during those weekly dinner visits, Sean was willing to bet that Ewan didn’t get to see the circus that was on display at the moment. His mother had the china out and the clear plastic off the furniture. Everything had to be perfect for their Megan.

  Sean leaned back against the wall next to Ewan and took in the room. Quinn waved cheerfully at him from the kitchen, and he waved back. Megan poured wine into five glasses and took them two by two to the table.

  “Where’s Niall?” he muttered to Ewan.

  “On the phone in the study.”

  Sean looked past his cousin. He could see his brother-in-law pacing behind a partially closed door with his cell phone stuck to his ear. If Megan was the patron saint of everything good in the world, her husband was the patron saint of dickheads and douchebags.

  Niall Dempsey was tall with dark hair that looked like it was glued into place. He was a few years older than Megan. As a vice-president at some hotshot real estate firm in Chicago, the bastard was raking in big money. Everyone who saw him knew it, thanks to the clothes he wore and the cars he drove.

  Megan had definitely married up financially. She couldn’t have married much lower when it came to personality.

  It was no secret that Sean and Niall couldn’t stand each other. If Sean were forced at gunpoint to pick one person in the world on which to bestow every STD known to mankind, he wouldn’t hesitate to name his brother-in-law.

  Niall was a pretentious prick. He had a stick shoved so far up his ass the guy probably had to shit standing up.

  “Dinner’s ready. Everyone have a seat!” his mother called.

  They took their places at the table, a seat left empty for Niall between Megan and Sean’s dad. His mother said a lengthy but heartfelt prayer, thanking Jesus for bringing Megan and Niall all this way so that they could have a meal together.

  When the prayer hit the one-minute mark, Sean peeked up to find Ewan’s impatient eyes looking his way. The look on his cousin’s face said everything Sean was feeling.

  Is it time to go yet?

  Prayer finished, they all started to fill their plates with food. Niall, finding the time to spare them a minute, waltzed out of the study and sat down next to Megan, draping his napkin across his lap.

  “Niall.” Sean’s greeting was flat.

  “Sean.” Niall’s greeting wasn’t much more enthusiastic.

  His dad cleared his throat. “So Meggie, how’s your job going?”

  Patting her mouth with her napkin, Megan nodded. “It’s going well. I have a great class this year.”

  “What grade do you teach?” Quinn asked her from her seat between Sean and Ewan.

  “Fourth grade. It’s a pretty good age. The kids are starting to get to that point where they think they know everything, but they’re still respectful.”

  “They better be. It’s a top private school. Not some public institution where they just let anyone and everyone in,” Niall added as he scooped mashed potatoes onto his plate.

  Sean inhaled slowly, trying hard not to roll his eyes at his pretentious brother-in-law.

  “That’s wonderful news, dear. I’m so glad you have nice students. I’m sure all the boys have a crush on you.”

  “Oh, I doubt it, Mom.”

  “And just think, teaching those young kids is such excellent practice for when you have your own, which will hopefully be soon.”

  Megan looked down at her plate. Their mother was ever so subtle about the fact that she wanted grandchildren, like, yesterday.

  Sean looked over at Ewan beseechingly. “You gotta work tonight?”

  Ewan nodded while sawing into his roast beef.

  “Need a hand?”

  Ewan stuffed a piece in his mouth and chewed as he looked up at Sean. Then he chewed some more—and some more—before finally swallowing. “Sure, I could use the help.”

  Thank fuck. The sooner he could get out of there the better.

  “So Sean,” Quinn said. “What have you been up to recently? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Ah, you know, the usual. Building buildings, fighting with the county on permits, selling drugs. Normal stuff like that.”

  “That’s lovely, dear,” his mother said. “Megan, did you mention you might be going to Miami soon?”

  Quinn froze with her fork halfway raised to her mouth. She looked between Katherine and Sean in complete shock that his mother had completely ignored what he’d said. Sean just smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

  Like he’d said, the usual.

  The Megan Show continued through the rest of dinner with tons of talk about her work, their new mansion renovations, and Niall’s impending promotion to senior vice-president at his firm. Just when Sean couldn’t take another minute of oohs and ahs for his sister’s utter magnificence, Quinn piped up again.

  “Conner, did you know that Sean is working on a huge hotel project?”

  His father was sitting back in his chair finishing his beer. “No, I didn’t. Tell us about it, son.”

  Sean shook his head. “It’s not a big deal. We’re just bidding on a hotel project from a potential client from London.”

  “Who’s the client?” Niall asked, feigning interest.

  “Hyde Wellington.”

  “Wellington? I’ve had dinner with him and his wife a few times. He’s a real ball buster. I hope you’re ready for it.” Niall laughed.

  Pompous fucker.

  “When is your presentation to the client?” his father asked.

  “This coming Wednesday.”

  It had been two long nerve-racking weeks, and as the days passed by, Sean lost more sleep. He couldn’t wait until the presentation was over and done with. Preferably done with them getting the bid.

  “I’ve seen Darcy’s designs.” Quinn smiled. “I can’t see how the client wouldn’t absolutely love your proposal.”

  “D
arcy Owens?” his sister asked.

  Sean nodded. “Yeah, Darcy is handling the interior design for the project.”

  “That’s nice, dear. Darcy is such a hard worker,” his mother said, taking a sip of wine.

  “Katherine, you should see the designs she’s come up with,” Quinn said. “They’re amazing. And the architect on the project seems like a real smooth talker. I bet he’ll give a killer presentation.”

  Sean looked over at Quinn and frowned. “Do you know Rhys?”

  “Not really. I met him last weekend. He was in Providence on business.”

  “You met him?”

  Quinn looked over at Ewan and then back to Sean. “Yeah. He took Darcy out to dinner last Friday. I met him when he came to pick her up.”

  Sean became hyperaware of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Rhys took Darcy out to dinner?”

  He heard a laugh come from somewhere in Niall’s direction, but he didn’t take his eyes off Quinn. She was slowly shrinking back in her chair.

  “Yeah. They went to some Thai restaurant. Why?”

  Why? Why? Because he’d told the asshole not to get involved with Darcy because it could mess up the project, that’s why! Goddamn it.

  “In fact, he’s back in Providence this weekend. I think they were having dinner again tonight.”

  Motherfucker.

  Sean stood abruptly, his chair screeching on the wooden floorboards as it flew back from the table. “Excuse me,” he muttered as he threw his napkin down on his plate.

  He had his cell phone out and was dialing her number before he even got to the front door.

  Chapter 7

  The sunlight had long since faded, and the chill in the air reminded Darcy that it would be time to rearrange her closet soon, moving her summer stuff to the back and her winter stuff to the front. Luckily, she’d checked the forecast before her dinner with Rhys and prepared for the weather with a warm cardigan and light scarf.

  It was the second weekend in a row that they’d had dinner together. And since they weren’t exactly meeting for work, she guessed that meant it was their second date. She tried not to think about that though, because the thought of dating and what was usually expected as you went on more and more dates together made her break out in hives.

  She was twenty-eight years old. She was old enough to know that when a guy dropped some serious money on dinner and drinks two weekends in a row, he might be expecting a little something in return at the end of the night.

  But that didn’t mean she’d have to give him anything.

  Sex was out of the question. Not just because she was a virgin and she wasn’t ready to give that up to a guy she’d been out with twice, but because sex just complicated things. And she needed to keep her head on straight, at least until the future of their working relationship was a little bit clearer.

  “You’re thinking awfully hard over there.”

  Rhys’s voice pulled her out of the indecision that was raging in her head.

  Did an invitation for a guy to come up to a girl’s apartment mean that he was gonna get laid? Was there such an invitation where a guy could just come up for drinks and casual conversation? She felt like inviting him up was the polite thing to do, yet she didn’t want to throw him any mixed signals.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking about how short the days are getting. I’ve tried to tell you. I’m terribly boring.”

  Rhys smiled over at her before looking back at the road to make the turn into her apartment complex. “You’re anything but boring.”

  The weekend before, Rhys had pulled his car up to the main entrance to her building. When she was collecting her purse before getting out, he’d leaned toward her. Her heart raced up into her throat because she’d thought he was leaning over to kiss her.

  Maybe she’d looked terrified, because he hadn't come any closer than the center console. He had reached over and gently run his thumb over her cheekbone before grinning and wishing her a good night.

  All week, she’d been embarrassed about how she’d reacted to him. Rhys was a good-looking man. He got appreciative looks from other women while they’d been at dinner, yet he didn’t let his gaze or attention stray from her at all.

  He was intelligent and could carry a conversation. He had a good job, a rather impressive body, and a great sense of humor. There was no reason the thought of him kissing her should turn her to stone.

  But it did.

  As he wound his way through the tiny parking lot adjacent to her building, she swallowed the huge cotton ball that seemed to be lodged in her throat.

  “Do you want to come upstairs? My roommate made some peach cobbler that is out-of-this-world orgasmic if you’d like to try some.”

  Yes, mentioning the word orgasm isn’t sending mixed signals at all.

  “Is your roommate home?”

  “No. Quinn had to go to a family dinner with her boyfriend. I’m by myself this weekend.”

  He maneuvered his car into an empty spot next to the front door. “Sure, I’d love to come up. But I’d like to make it known right now that if the out-of-this-world orgasmic peach cobbler doesn’t deliver what it promises, I’m outta here.”

  Darcy laughed, her nerves calming ever so slightly. “You won’t be disappointed, I promise.”

  After unlocking the front door, Darcy led Rhys past the elevator with the Out Of Order sign on it to the back stairway. “I live on the fourth floor. Hope you don’t mind the stairs. The elevator is just there for decoration.”

  “How long has it been out?”

  “Since January of last year.”

  “Seriously? And your superintendent still has a job?”

  “Yeah. Our super happens to own the building and his apartment is on the ground floor. It doesn’t bother him at all.”

  They trudged their way up the four flights of stairs, and like usual, Darcy was winded. She hoped she wasn’t sweating underneath her cardigan. She made a mental note to write another email to Mr. Cooper about the elevator. Maybe if she played it up and said she'd started to have chest pains during her climb to the top floor, he’d fix it to avoid a lawsuit.

  Rhys, who didn’t seem to be breathing a fraction harder than normal, gripped the railing across from Darcy’s door and shook it. “With the shape this structure is in, your super should be arrested. I don’t care if he lives on the bottom floor or not. This railing isn’t stable at all.”

  He wasn’t saying anything Darcy didn’t already know. But the truth was that Darcy loved her apartment. It was her space where she could do what she wanted, when she wanted. And if he thought this place was bad, he should see where she’d grown up in New York with her parents. If he wanted to talk about someone needing to be arrested…

  She pushed open her apartment door and threw her keys in the dish on the entry table. Toeing off her shoes, she ushered him in and closed the door behind him.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  He shrugged off his dark gray blazer, exposing his pale blue button-up shirt. Darcy noticed how it made his brown eyes seem darker.

  “How about a beer?”

  “Coming right up.”

  Darcy fished a beer out of the fridge, popped the top off, and handed it to him. He had followed her into the kitchen and was leaning his sturdy frame against the counter. Nabbing a whiskey bottle on the top of the fridge, she poured herself a small drink.

  Well, small is such a relative term, isn’t it?

  “Can I get a tour?”

  Darcy smiled. Was that man-code for I want to see your bedroom?

  “Sure.” She led him out of the kitchen, past the dining table, and stopped next to the couch. “This is the living room of course.”

  He walked past her, his eyes following the crown molding. Unlike most visitors to her apartment, although few they were, Rhys was probably more interested in the structural details rather than family photos and keepsakes.

  “You probably get a lot of noise from the street below
during the day, don’t you?”

  “It’s not so bad.”

  He raised his brow a fraction before continuing his perusal of the room. She started toward the hallway that led to Quinn’s half of the apartment.

  “This is Quinn’s bedroom, and the guest bathroom is at the end of the hall.”

  Rhys peeked his head into the open door to her roommate’s room before leaning over to look into the hall bath. “Small but nice.”

  She turned back to the living room and motioned toward the entrance to her room. “And that’s the master bedroom.”

  He walked over to the door before turning back to her. “Mind if I take a look?” When she hesitated, he added, “Strictly for professional curiosity, I promise.” His grin was boyish and charming.

  When she nodded, he pushed the door open and moved inside. Instead of following him in, she went to have a seat on the couch. A minute later, she heard a door close, and Rhys reemerged from the hallway.

  “Someone has a real affinity for purple.” He smiled as he joined her in the living room.

  It was fairly obvious what her favorite color was. Although the floors were oak, her bedroom walls were light lavender, an area rug under her queen-size bed was a deep plum, and her bedspread was a mix of dark mauves and creams. The only non-purple item was her curtains, and those were lime green with thin white stripes.

  “I do like purple.” She shrugged.

  He hitched a knee up and sank down onto the sofa, resting an arm behind her on the back of the couch.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Since I started undergrad. I know the building isn’t much to write home about, but I love it here. It has a great location and my neighbors keep to themselves for the most part.”

  He nodded, keeping his gaze on her while raising his beer for another sip. His big, strong body dwarfed the rest of the furniture. He didn’t fit into the feminine design of the living room.

  He rested his beer bottle on his thigh. “So about that peach cobbler…”

  Right! The cobbler. Darcy shot off the couch and headed for the kitchen. “Coming right up.” She pulled out a bowl along with the dish of cobbler from the refrigerator. “Do you want it warmed?”