Kilty Pleasures

by Nancy Fraser

  “Well, first of all, the storm happened. Then MacAlister Estates. Your uncle needed someone to help him get it started, so I put my skills to good use.”

  “And afterward?”

  “He got sick not long after we opened the doors. When he offered me a job, I couldn’t say ‘no’.”

  The SUV lurched on a final patch of ice just as the farmhouse came into view. Ronan braced his hand against the dash, and asked, “A job as caretaker?”

  She chuckled. “My da is the only one who calls me a caretaker. My official job title, according to my employment contract, is General Manager.”

  He went silent suddenly and a feeling of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Did the fact that she was more than just a caretaker bother him? Or, was it the fact that she had a contract?

  She’d pulled into the driveway before he spoke again. “I really appreciate the fact you were there for my uncle when he needed you. I wish he’d been as trusting of me. I wish I’d known he was sick.”

  She could tell he was hurting, possibly even ashamed of cutting ties with his only relative. Aileen had the strongest urge to relieve him of any guilt he might have, if only to make losing his uncle a bit easier.

  “I’m sure if he’d realized how little time he had, he’d have made an effort to get in touch.” She laid her hand against his across the width of the SUV. “He talked about you often. He was very proud of your success.”

  “Stubborn old bastard,” Ronan choked out. “Would it have been so bad to have told me that himself?”

  Hearing the roughness in Ronan’s voice, her heart ached for him. He was no longer the adolescent boy who’d caught her eye, but a man…a very desirable man…and she longed to be there for him without any expectation of getting something in return.

  Aileen drove straight home after she dropped Ronan off at the farmhouse. She needed to sort through the events of the past couple of days and develop a plan should Ronan decide to sell the business to an outsider.

  Would she even have a job if that happened?

  Most of all, she wanted a full night of sleep. The sex had been wild and wonderful, but she was so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open. Thoughts of all they’d done, enjoyed, filtered through her foggy mind. Her adolescent crush had certainly taken a turn for the better. Problem was, so had her heart. And even though he’d given no indication of anything other than lust, she was starting to have feelings for him, feelings dealt with in friendship rather than just in bed. Needing more, wanting to explore something other than sex was probably not the best idea, given he was chomping at the bit to leave.

  Letting herself into her parents’ home, the first thing she noticed was the single piece of mail on the front entryway table. It was from Theodore Dunlap, Esquire, and addressed solely to her. She slid her finger under the flap and withdrew the letter from inside.

  Apparently, she was expected to attend the reading of Kieran MacAlister’s last will and testament.

  ****

  Ronan stripped out of his clothes and slid beneath the pounding spray of the hot shower. His mind flew back to the half dozen or so showers he’d taken in the previous day and a half. While sure to relax his tired muscles and chase away the cold weather chill, this one was not nearly as enjoyable as the ones he’d shared with Aileen.

  She’d certainly been a pleasant surprise.

  Just the memory of their lovemaking had him as hard as a rock.

  He exited the shower and made his way to the kitchen to make a sandwich and a cup of tea. He had a lot to think about.

  He’d come to Glencoe with a plan—get in, get out, and never have to come back. When he’d believed he only had to list the farm for sale, it had been easy. He was even willing to take a loss on the property to be done with it.

  Now, things were different. It wasn’t just an old, run-down farmhouse. It was a huge, well-organized business. A good portion of the town relied on MacAlister Estates for their livelihood. And most importantly, Aileen was the one person who made it work.

  He supposed it wouldn’t be difficult to sell it as a whole. And part of the condition of sale would obviously include honoring the current leases and Aileen’s employment contract. Until he found a buyer willing to meet those conditions, he could hold onto the business himself and leave it in Aileen’s capable hands.

  The other upside to maintaining ownership would be his two or three time yearly visits…just to check up on things of course. And if his general manager was so inclined, he could mix a little business with a whole lot of pleasure.

  Now you’re thinking. With your dick.

  As if summoned by his conscience, his cock stood up and pushed against his silk boxers, begging to be acknowledged.

  Chapter Ten

  Ronan entered Theodore Dunlap’s office at five minutes to ten, surprised to find Aileen seated in the waiting room.

  When he took a seat at her side, she waved an envelope in his face. “I’ve been summoned.”

  His uncle’s generosity over the past few years still surprised him. It was a far cry from the man he remembered from his youth. “I’m sure Kieran appreciated your help. No doubt he’s left you something in his will.”

  Promptly at ten, they were escorted into the attorney’s office. “Oh, great, you’re both here.”

  “Mr. Dunlap,” Ronan said, offering the man his hand.

  “Mr. MacAlister. Take a seat, please.” He turned to Aileen. “Hey, scamp. I’m glad to see you got my letter on time.”

  “Yeah, Teddy, it arrived sometime Saturday.”

  “Good. I was worried Joe wouldn’t go out during the storm.”

  “Who’s Joe?” Ronan asked

  “The town’s postmaster,” Aileen explained. “His gout acts up during bad weather so sometimes we have to wait for the mail.”

  He shook his head, still dumbfounded over the workings, or non-workings, of a small, close knit town.

  “So,” Dunlap began. “Shall we get started?”

  Ronan nodded. He wanted nothing more than to get through all of the legalities so he could put some sort of plan in motion. Not to mention the fact, he wanted to get back to Tulsa before the next freak storm.

  “Your uncle was a frugal man,” Dunlap said. “And very shrewd. He had the forethought to put all of his property and cash assets into a revocable living trust. While he had a last will and testament, it only names his executor and directs everything else to the trust documents. It’s a smart way to do business. And more importantly, it keeps from having to set up an estate.”

  “So there’ll be no probate?” Ronan asked.

  “It’s not necessary. The total value of his estate is under the federal maximum requiring the payment of estate taxes.”

  This was even better news than he’d hoped for. No probate meant no long wait to settle his uncle’s affairs. Eager to get started, Ronan nodded in the man’s direction. “Let’s go over everything.”

  Dunlap began, “His personal bank accounts, both checking and savings, are set up with you, Ronan MacAlister, as sole trustee and beneficiary.” The attorney shuffled the papers across the desk.

  Ronan stared at the bank statements. The balances, though impressive, were less than he’d expected. It wasn’t as if he needed the money. Obviously, Kieran had invested a large amount in the start-up of the business.

  “What’s next?” Ronan asked.

  “The banking related to MacAlister Estates is separate of course. Here is the statement as of this morning when the bank opened.” He pushed the paper in Ronan’s direction.

  “And the value of the property itself?”

  Dunlap passed over an assessment. “The farmhouse was placed in the corporation’s name, along with all of the other buildings. It was Kieran’s wish to turn the farmhouse into a museum, assuming there’s no reason to keep it as a residence.”

  “I certainly don’t intend to live there.” A slight movement at his side drew his attention. Aileen had shifted in her chair fart
her away from him. Did her reaction have something to do with his claim to not want to live in Glencoe? Surely she’d not expected him to leave his home and move here to take over his uncle’s business.

  Aileen cleared her throat. “I have a list of everything in the farmhouse with historical significance, as well as a document with a history of the surrounding land.”

  Ronan nodded. Catching her gaze, he smiled. “I appreciate that.” He shifted his attention back to Dunlap. “I assume the corporation was set up as a trust as well?”

  The attorney tapped his pen on the desk and then looked from Ronan to Aileen and back. “Yes, the corporation has been set up as a trust. A joint trust in the names of Ronan MacAlister and Aileen MacDougall, as equal partners.”

  Aileen’s gasp filled the room.

  “Excuse me?” Immediately he regretted the sharpness of his tone. Ronan glanced toward Aileen and then back at Dunlap. “I have to admit, I’m surprised. It wasn’t in my uncle’s nature to be so giving other than among his family.”

  “Perhaps you didn’t know your uncle as well as you thought you did.” Aileen’s voice, though soft, held a tremble. “He’d changed a lot and for the better these past few years.”

  Dunlap pushed the trust documents across the desk. A small envelope sat atop the file, his name scrawled in his uncle’s almost indecipherable handwriting.

  Ronan lifted the envelope in his hand and withdrew the short note.

  No doubt by now ye think I’ve lost every one of me marbles. I know you, Ronie…

  Ronan flinched. Tears stung his eyes when he read the nickname Kieran had given him ages ago.

  You’re a smart lad. You’ll soon figure out how valuable the lass is when it comes to business. She was my rock these past few months when I was too pigheaded to call you. Forgive an old man for wanting to pay his dues. My last wish is that the two of you can make this partnership work.

  ****

  Aileen climbed the stairs to the farmhouse, her thoughts still a jumble of confusion. Ronan had left Teddy Dunlap’s office as soon as they’d finished signing what seemed like a million legal documents. He’d barely said two words to either herself or the attorney.

  If the lack of words was anything to go by, he was none too happy about sharing ownership in MacAlister Estates. It was obvious his uncle’s wishes had caught them both off-guard.

  Now here she was, as promised, standing at the farmhouse door and clutching the thumb drive containing his uncle’s plan for the museum. She knocked, lightly at first and then when he didn’t answer, more firmly.

  Ronan appeared at the door, dressed in the same slacks and shirt he’d worn that morning, minus the jacket and tie. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the very top of his chest.

  Her mouth went dry. Memories of their lovemaking came back in a flash. Her palms itched with the urge to touch…to slide her hand beneath the fine linen finish and feel his muscles jump and quiver beneath her fingertips.

  “Come in,” he said absently, pulling the door open. In his other hand, he held his cell phone to his ear. “This reception is for shit. I’ll call you back on the landline in a few minutes.” He motioned her toward the desk in the corner. “I need to call my office. It’ll only take a few minutes. Why don’t you bring everything up on the computer while you wait?”

  She nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  He left the room, portable in hand. The muted sound of his voice trailed through the house as he paced. She overhead something about a download problem and a deadline but nothing about his plans for Glencoe and MacAlister Estates.

  The computer files loaded, she waited for his return.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said when he came back into the room. “I needed to take care of a few things at the office.” He took a seat at her side. “And more importantly, I’m sorry about my response to Kieran’s plan for our shared ownership of the company.” When she started to speak, he raised his hand. “You were right, I didn’t know my uncle very well. And for that, I’m ashamed.”

  She placed her hand on his cheek. “He knew you. He talked about you all the time. Like I said before, he was very proud of your success.”

  He grasped her hand in his and drew it away from his face. “One thing I have learned from building my own company is that mixing business and pleasure rarely works.”

  She lowered her hand to her lap and clenched her fist. “You’re right, I know.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. Before I found out we were going to be partners, I’d toyed with the idea of holding on to MacAlister Estates and asking you to run it full time. I’d envisioned quarterly visits as a way to be with you both professionally and personally.” He chuckled, but the sound was anything but mirthful. “Hell, I was so full of myself and my grand plan, I’d even gone for a drive first thing this morning, all the way to Coatsville.”

  “You went to Coatsville this morning?”

  “Yeah, to stock up on little rubber soldiers. I figured buying them here in town would have been awkward and a very ungentlemanly thing to do.”

  She bit back an outright laugh. “You definitely would have fueled the town gossip for a while.”

  “It wasn’t me I was worried about.” Like she’d done earlier to him, he laid his hand against her cheek. “It was you.”

  She leaned into his hand. “Thank you. For thinking about me.”

  “You’re a hard woman not to think about.”

  He bent toward her, his mouth hovering scant millimeters above hers. She licked her lips, anticipating one of his deep, wet kisses. Rather than follow through, he raised his head and turned away. His hand fell from her cheek.

  “When are you going back to Tulsa?”

  “My flight leaves tomorrow at two.” He scooted closer to the computer. “We need to go over these plans and talk about how we’ll run this partnership.”

  “Did you have some ideas?”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve no interest in spending the winter here in Glencoe. One storm was enough for me.”

  She wondered if he were talking about just the snow or being trapped with her. “I can understand that. This weather is definitely not for the tourist.”

  “Here’s what I’m suggesting…”

  Chapter Eleven

  This wasn’t going to work.

  The next morning, Ronan stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his tie. He should have left already. The drive to the airport was over an hour. He had to return the rental car and get checked in for a flight scheduled to leave in less than three.

  He’d overslept for the first time since college. All because he couldn’t get a certain woman out of his mind.

  The idea of mixing business and pleasure was all well and good when he was the boss and she the employee.

  How fucking sexiest can you get, you stupid bastard?

  He shoved his taunting inner voice aside knowing full well his conscience was right. He was being an egotistical pig.

  His logical side had to prevail. Being partners, having to make business decisions, brought a whole new element into play. How could they maintain both an efficient working relationship and a steamy personal relationship without something going to Hades in the proverbial hand basket?

  He also had another problem, much larger than just juggling two separate relationships. Somewhere along the line, he’d developed deeper feelings, an admiration for a woman who’d given up her own plans to help an old man…a town…with re-starting their lives. Aileen MacDougall was an interesting woman. A unique woman. And at this moment in time, he couldn’t picture her not being part of his life. Even if their relationship ended up being nothing more than business. All he knew was that he had to explore these feelings further, no matter where they led.

  You certainly can’t work out the kinks in your logic with long-distance phone calls.

  “Shut up,” he ordered. Drawing in a sharp breath, he reached for the nearby phone.

  ****

 
; Little more than an hour later, Ronan opened the front door to an obviously nervous Aileen.

  “Oh, good. You’re still here.” She rushed past him and straight toward the home office.

  “Hello?” He followed behind her, enjoying the sight of her hips swaying side to side as she hustled down the hall.

  “I was afraid you’d already gone.”

  “Nope,” he said, fighting to disguise the humor in his voice. “As you can see, I’m still here.”

  “We need to talk.” Her bold pronouncement amused him even more than her frantic bouncing from one side of the room to the other.

  “I agree. There were a few things we’d left out of our discussion yesterday.”

  She looked him straight in the eye, and asked, “There were?”

  “Yes. For instance, who can we get to oversee MacAlister Estates during the slower winter months?”

  She swallowed and licked her lips, the sight of her pink tongue darting in and out of her mouth making his throat go dry.

  “Why would we need that?”

  “Well, for starters, I’m crazy about you. And totally out of character, I’d love to see where this attraction is going. That said, you can’t very well run things from Tulsa.”

  She was staring at him as if he had two heads. “Why would I be in Tulsa?”

  He chuckled and reached for her, pulling her into a loose embrace. “Because I’d like to make our togetherness a bit more permanent. And as I said before, I don’t like Maine winters.”

  A slight shake of her head worried him. Yet, when a heart-stopping smile slipped across her beautiful face, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “So, your solution…the one that kept you from catching your flight…is that I should pack up everything and follow you to Tulsa.”

  “Not immediately. We have work to do first. That’s why I cancelled my flight. I’m willing to stick around for an extra week, or more if necessary, so we can get a real sense of both our business and personal relationship.”

  Her smile widened and he hoped she was warming to his plan.

  Raising her hand, she caressed his cheek and ran her thumb across his lower lip. “How long do you think that might take?”