Harlequin Special Edition October 2015, Box Set 1 of 2

by Christine Rimmer

  “I call that recess.” Mac shook his head. “This is business, not school, and regardless of how your father ran things, you should be here 24/7 until things turn around.”

  “I agree with you. And I will be. But first I need to...recharge. My father did it almost every day, and it made him a great leader.” She took a step closer to Mac, until the blue in his eyes revealed little flecks of gold. Her heart fluttered and she had to force herself not to inhale another whiff of his tempting cologne. Business only. “Why don’t you come with me, let me show you what really mattered to Willie Jay Hillstrand. And where he found his best inspiration.”

  “I assure you, I can learn all I need to know from the files right here.”

  She shook her head, and felt a bittersweet smile stumble on her lips. “No you can’t. And I forgot for a while that I couldn’t, either.”

  He assessed her for a long moment, those blue eyes unreadable, except for a small hint of amusement. “I don’t know. I have work to do, yes, I should eat, but—”

  “Listen, I know this great place that makes fabulous steaks. It’s right on the water, and it’s quiet. We can eat, and promise not to talk business until dessert is over.”

  Mac scoffed. “Not talk business? I don’t think I know any other topics of conversation.”

  “And that, Mr. Barlow,” because she was afraid if she called him Mac, she might expose the way his touch had tripped her pulse, “is exactly why I can’t sell Hillstrand Solar to you right now.” Or ever, her mind whispered. “My father knew the importance of life outside the business, and that’s what made him so successful and made everyone who works here so happy. Unless you understand that, you can’t understand me or the company.” She bent down, scribbled an address on a piece of paper. “So if you want to help me, then meet me at the Sea Shanty in an hour.”

  “I’d rather—”

  She handed him the slip of paper. Firm, in control, a whole other Savannah than she normally was in these offices. Maybe if she drew on a little of the skills she used with stubborn subcontractors and late delivery trucks, she could handle the CEO chair that still felt as wrong as a pair of shoes two sizes too small. “That’s my deal, Barlow. Take it or leave it.”

  Chapter Three

  The meeting with Savannah Hillstrand lingered in Mac’s mind, along with the image of the strong, intriguing blonde. He’d agreed to her dinner meeting tonight, but only to talk more business, he told himself, not to get to know her more.

  His first impressions of her had been wrong, something that doubled his interest, because if there was one thing Mac had little experience with, it was being wrong.

  She was stronger than he’d expected, not at all scared or intimidated by his attempts to purchase her company. She had stood toe to toe with him, literally and figuratively, and challenged Mac to do the craziest thing...

  Help her save Hillstrand Solar.

  With that interesting little carrot at the end—that if it didn’t work, and she failed, he could still buy it from her. He could be a horrible person and give her bad advice, advice sure to bring Hillstrand Solar to ruin, but a part of Mac was...intrigued by the idea of helping her. Turning a company around instead of just flipping it to the next buyer could be an interesting twist to his usual practices. A challenge of sorts.

  Either way, he intended to use the week to convince her that, in the end, selling was the best strategy. If he paid a little more in a month because of the help he gave her, so be it. She’d have the satisfaction of knowing she hadn’t ruined the company, and he’d still have that last piece to the bigger puzzle he was assembling.

  He had an hour until he was supposed to meet Savannah, an hour he could spend working—or he could bite the bullet and see his family. Part of him just wanted to hole up in a coffee shop and spend the sixty minutes checking email on his laptop, but a twinge of guilt told him he hadn’t come all this way just to work. He had missed his brothers and mother something fierce, and it’d be nice to see them.

  His father, not so much. Especially after that conversation in Atlanta with his Uncle Tank. His real name wasn’t Tank, of course, but he’d gotten the nickname because John Barlow was a barrel-chested guy with a larger-than-life personality, and the nickname had followed him from childhood on up. The younger brother to Bobby, Mac’s father, and the one who had always been the jokester, the prankster, but who also had gotten into more trouble than a loose pig at a county fair. When he’d first told Mac the story about Bobby’s misdeeds, Mac had dismissed it as yet another joke. Then a little digging had unearthed some truth—truth that redefined everything Mac thought he knew about his family.

  And about his father.

  Now that trouble was threatening to catch up with the Barlows if Mac didn’t find a way to head it off. But that meant talking to his father, something Mac had learned long ago to avoid doing.

  You have another brother, Uncle Tank had said, explaining that he had known the boy for some time, staying in contact by posing as a friend to the family, something he’d done as a favor to Bobby. I talked to him and he said he wants to meet the rest of his family. Soon.

  Meeting them meant exposing the truth. Exposing his father as a cheater. Despite the hard feelings between himself and his dad, he didn’t relish telling the others what Uncle Tank had told him. In fact, Mac had no idea how to say the words. How to confront the man he hadn’t talked to in almost a decade. Was there ever a good time for that kind of thing?

  A moment later, Mac was in the driveway of his old childhood home. He stood there a moment, taking in the long open porch, the big front door still painted the same cranberry color as always. There were new annuals in the flower beds, and a new American flag hanging from the pole, but mostly the house had stayed unchanged, like a snapshot of the past. A part of Mac liked knowing it would be the same, year after year. He gave the old homestead a nod, then walked up the front steps and into the house. In an instant, his family poured into the hall like water overflowing a dam to see him.

  He took off his helmet and grinned. Damn, it was good to see them. “I heard one of you is getting married, and I’m here to talk you out of it.”

  Jack was the first to clap his older brother on the back. Still trim and fit from his time in the military, Jack had the shortest haircut of the three of them. “Sorry, Mac, you’re too late. I’m already in love. Might want to talk to the other one. He just got engaged five seconds ago.” He nodded toward Luke.

  Luke was engaged? Of the three Barlow boys, Mac would have listed Luke as least likely to get married. He arched a brow in Luke’s direction, and his brother started grinning like a fool.

  Mac shook his head in mock regret. “I go away for a few years and this is the kind of craziness I come home to?”

  “It’s the best kind of craziness, so hush up and enjoy your family,” his mother said. Della wrapped him in a hug, dragging him toward the dining room table. It was Sunday—family dinner day. Except Mac hadn’t sat at the family dinner table in years, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to today, either. He could see his father, standing to the side of the table, his face as unreadable as a hieroglyphic.

  A mixed bag of emotions ran through Mac. He’d missed his father, but at the same time, dreaded seeing him. And now the knowledge that Bobby Barlow had fathered a child with another woman had given Mac a whole new set of reasons to be angry at the man. All he knew was that he couldn’t deal with this today and definitely not at the Sunday dinner table.

  Mama placed a kiss on his temple as if he was five years old again. “It’s good to have you home, Maxwell.”

  Mac covered his mother’s hand with his own. He’d missed her simple touch, her ever-present love for her sons. Despite everything that had happened in the past between Bobby and Mac, Della couldn’t hold a grudge if it was glued to her palm. He loved that about his mother. “Good to
be back, Mama.”

  Jack gestured toward one of the seats at the table. “So, you gonna stay awhile or what?”

  Mac’s gaze went to his father. Even now, even at thirty, Mac wanted that nod of approval. Ridiculous. He should be well past that need.

  “Of course he’s staying,” Mama said. She pulled out a chair and practically shoved Mac into it. “Plus it’s Maddy’s birthday—”

  “Who’s Maddy?”

  “Stay home for more than five minutes and you’ll get caught up,” Jack said.

  “Maddy is Luke’s daughter. With Susannah Reynolds,” his mother explained. “It’s a long story, one that I’ll share after dinner. And now, Luke is marrying Peyton, Susannah’s sister. So they’re going to be a family very soon.”

  Mac glanced around and saw a little girl shyly holding hands with Peyton. To their right stood Meri Prescott, the former beauty queen now engaged to Jack. He remembered both Peyton and Meri from when they were kids, especially Peyton, who had vacationed sometimes at the same lake as the Barlows. And there were his two brothers, smiling like loons. “Is there some kind of marriage plague going on here that I missed?” Mac said.

  His mother smiled. “You came home just in time for all the celebration.”

  “Wasn’t sure you would,” his father muttered. “Haven’t heard hide nor hair from you in years.”

  Mac ignored the barb. Unlike his brothers, he’d never really gotten along with his father. Maybe it was something about being the oldest, the one who set the pace, laid out all the expectations. No matter how far Mac climbed or how well he did, his father rarely had an attaboy or so much as a nod for the achievement. And when Mac had announced he was leaving home the day after he graduated high school, it had turned into a fight about Mac abandoning his responsibilities and his family.

  The final torch to the feeble bridge between father and son had been one of Mac’s first business purchases, a small family-owned used car lot that Mac had turned around and sold to an investor up north, who’d taken the inventory and left the lot vacant for years, a barren spot in downtown Stone Gap. It wasn’t until a few years later that the lot was taken under new ownership and management, and saw life again. Bobby had blamed Mac for ruining the town, ruining his friend’s life and ruining pretty much the entire world. In the years since, Mac had spent as little time at home as possible.

  But now he had a whole other reason for not wanting to talk to his father. A secret that could not only destroy what little relationship Mac and Bobby had left, but dismantle the entire Barlow family.

  Besides, with his brothers looking so damned happy they might just burst, and the mouthwatering aromas of his mother’s home cooking filling the air, Mac wasn’t about to retread old ground or unearth buried bones. “You know I wouldn’t miss seeing Jack’s last gasp as a single man, Mama,” he said. “I even wore black for the occasion.”

  “You are incorrigible,” his mother said. “But I love you anyway.”

  “She’s just saying that.” Jack, in the seat beside him, clapped Mac on the shoulder. The three boys all had the same dark hair and blue eyes, but Jack was the leanest and tallest of the three by about a half an inch. “You know she likes me best.”

  Mac looked around the assembled group, joined by the two women and Maddy. The whole world seemed to have changed in the years since Mac had lived in Stone Gap. His younger brothers were all grown up, getting married, settling down. “Well, damn. You’re all here at once.”

  “So where’s your date?” Luke asked.

  “What date? I didn’t bring anyone with me.”

  “That’s because no one wants to put up with his workaholic self,” Jack laughed.

  The familiar argument, back again. From the day he’d gotten his first job at eleven, his brothers had teased him about working too much, playing too little. Mac just hadn’t seen the need for video games or skateboarding on sidewalks. Not when there were things that could be accomplished, goals to be met. “I’m not a workaholic.”

  Jack arched a brow. “So you came to town just for my wedding? Not for anything work related?”

  “Well—”

  “Exactly.” Jack shook his head. “One of these days, big brother, you’ll slow down long enough to live your life.”

  “Mac’s living his life. Up there in the city far from all of us. Doesn’t slow down long enough to call and say how-do-you-do,” Bobby said.

  “Dad, I’ve just been busy.”

  “Living the big corporate life. Sucking up the little guys and slapping them down like ants.”

  And that right there was the crux of everything wrong between his father and him. Bobby didn’t understand Mac’s approach to business, didn’t see that sometimes buying a company and shutting it down was a good thing. “Dad, we’ve been over—”

  His mother popped to her feet, cutting off the sentence. “Let me get you a plate and dish you up some food. That way your brothers won’t eat your helping.”

  For a moment, Mac wanted to stay at this table, surrounded by the family he’d seen too little of since he’d left for college. But that itch to complete the To Do list, to move on to the next thing, the bigger thing, like some mountain just out of reach, nagged at him. He’d been chasing that feeling for years and had yet to find anything that tamed the quest for more.

  He took one look at his father’s face, still impassable and cold, and got to his feet.

  If Mac stayed a second longer he was bound to say something he shouldn’t. Something such as, Where do you get off judging me for how I run my business, Dad, when you were screwing up your own life? Yeah, probably not appropriate Sunday-dinner talk. “Sorry, Mama, but I can’t stay. Just popped in to say hello. I have a meeting to get to.”

  “On a Sunday?” His mother shook her head. “Why are you working on the Lord’s day? Even He took a break, you know.”

  “That’s because His work was done, Mama. Mine never is.” Mac pressed a quick kiss to his mother’s cheek, then grabbed his helmet off the sideboard, swung it back onto his head and buckled the chin strap. “I’ll be around, staying at the Stone Gap Hotel, and here through Saturday for Jack’s wedding.”

  “Then gone again.” The cold statement from his father wasn’t even a question.

  “My life is back in Boston, Dad. Not here.”

  “Your life is where you make it, son.” Bobby shook his head. Clearly disappointed. “And there’s nothing wrong with making a life right here. You don’t have to conquer the world and trample the little people to have a life.”

  Mac bit back his frustration. No matter how far he rose in his career, how many milestones he achieved, his father never looked at him the way he looked at his other two boys. Maybe Bobby couldn’t understand why Mac would leave Stone Gap, why he’d want something more than what this tiny little speck of a town had to offer. Mac had long ago given up trying to argue the point. His father was never going to see him as anything other than the one who’d let him down, let the town down. One business deal and Bobby refused to forgive or understand.

  And now Mac had his own reasons for not forgiving or understanding his father, who came across as the great family man, the pillar of Stone Gap. When the truth was something else entirely.

  “I’ll be back,” Mac promised. Then he headed out the door, got on his bike and started the engine, letting the roar of the Harley drown out the tension he was leaving behind.

  Before heading to the address Savannah had given him, Mac stopped over at the Stone Gap Hotel to check in and get his room key, because chances were good if he got back late tonight, the eighteen-year-old front-desk clerk would be asleep when he returned. He stowed his small bag of belongings in the room, then grabbed his laptop and a notepad before heading back down to the bike. That was all he’d need for his evening with Savannah Hillstrand. Eat, conduct a little busi
ness and leave.

  No lingering to get to know her, to see if he could make her laugh or coax that dazzling smile from her again. This was all work and no play, and the sooner he could get back to his room to tackle the long list of emails and reports he needed to read, the better. Then, hopefully, this knot of stress in his chest would ease.

  He was just latching his helmet when a car carrying familiar occupants pulled into the hotel parking lot. His little brothers, here to check up on him. Mac tucked the helmet under his arm and waited while they got out of Luke’s car.

  “What are you two doing here?”

  The younger Barlows leaned against the hood, their arms crossed over their chests. “We’re on a fact-finding mission,” Jack said. “As in finding out why the hell you ran out on dinner?”

  “I told you. I had a meeting.”

  “At dinnertime. On a Sunday.” Jack rolled his eyes. “The only day you know Mama’s going to expect us all around the table.”

  “You missed a hell of a pot roast, too,” Luke added.

  “And don’t forget the apple crumble for dessert,” Jack said. “That was amazing.”

  “Had myself two helpings since I didn’t have to share with Mac.” Luke patted his belly. “Too bad you missed it for a meeting, big brother.”

  Mac scowled. He was back in town for barely a few hours and already they were giving him a hard time. “For one, the time for Sunday dinner is more like late afternoon—”

  “So we have time to watch the game. Priorities, Mac.” Jack grinned.

  “For another, I don’t think Dad really cared if I was there or not.” Mac shrugged as if it didn’t bother him at all, and as if there wasn’t other untouched issues between him and his father. Issues he didn’t want to share with his brothers, not until he figured out how to drop this secret sibling bomb with as little collateral damage as possible. “So I figured I might as well get some work done.”