But all of that money had been put into an account for her mother’s monthly bills. There was enough left over to pay her mortgage and buy enough stock to open the nursery each weekend. She had a steady stream of customers who had found her, thanks to the contacts she had through the landscape company. But she was nowhere near the point when running the garden center full-time could support her, Cooper, and her mother.
Something whizzed by her head, and she dropped to the ground with a muttered curse.
“Too close,” Owen shouted at the same time Cooper called, “Sorry, Mom.”
A moment later, a pair of expensive-looking dress shoes appeared in her vision. “You’re fine,” Owen said, and crouched in front of her. “Need a hand?”
She pushed off the patchy grass and hopped to her feet. He straightened and reached out to touch a finger to her cheek. “You have a little dirt,” he said, glancing from her face down the front of her body. “Everywhere.”
Narrowing her eyes, she brushed her hands down the front of her shirt. “He could have taken my head off with that thing. Are you teaching my kid to build some sort of military secret weapon? It’s supposed to be a toy.”
His shoulders stiffened, as if she’d said something to offend him. That was hard to believe when she’d been the one to be almost mutilated by the streamlined airplane.
“It’s awesome now. Right, Mom?” Cooper ran up to her, holding the small airplane in one hand. “My friends are going to freak out over it.”
“Until someone loses an eye,” she muttered.
“Remember what we talked about,” Owen said to Cooper, turning to face the boy. “When it’s flying that fast, you need to keep control over it.” He pointed to the field beyond the barn. “Plan on sticking to open spaces until you’re an expert pilot, okay?”
Cooper nodded, a huge grin still plastered across his face. It had been months since she’d seen him so happy, and a gentle ache expanded in Jenny’s chest. Once upon a time, she’d been able to make him smile like that.
“I’m going to practice flying it,” he said, “so I’m an expert before Aidan comes over tomorrow.” He gave her a quick hug. “At least all the land is good for something this summer.”
She pressed her fingers against her chest as he ran off across the driveway. “That was a direct hit.”
“He’ll appreciate it at some point.” Owen looked from her shabby house to her shabbier barn. “It’s a great property.”
“Cooper liked our suburbia tract home,” she answered. “Living in a garden paradise is my dream, not his.”
“Kids like open spaces to run around.”
She rolled her eyes. “Some kids like video games and a fast Internet connection.”
“I might have been that kid, too,” he said with a laugh.
“You certainly seem to be an expert at relating to my son. Come into the kitchen,” she told him, turning for the house. “We need to talk.”
At the top of the porch steps she grabbed the screen-door handle, which came loose in her hand, the door remaining firmly latched. “Shit,” she mumbled. “Stay here. I need to go around to the front door. I can get it to open from the inside.” She placed the broken handle on the windowsill and jogged down the steps and around the front of the house.
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. Owen Dalton, who could afford to stay in the finest hotels in the world and owned a penthouse loft in one of the most expensive buildings in downtown Denver, was waiting on her back porch with the wonky step and the peeling paint on the rails for her to force open the broken screen door.
A busted latch might be minor, and the house was basically solid, but with every step she took toward the front of the house, her feet seemed to grow heavier. Why had she ever thought she could make it on her own?
She forced herself to keep moving, yet by the time she got to kitchen, Owen was letting himself in the back door.
“How’d you get in?” she asked.
“I fixed the handle,” he said, slipping what looked to be some sort of multiuse tool into his pocket. “It just needed to be tightened.”
“Since when do you wear a tool belt along with your pocket protector?” she asked, cringing almost as soon as the words left her mouth. Owen made her feel off balance, which made her defensive. But he didn’t deserve her attitude. “I’m sorry. What I meant to say was ‘thank you.’”
“I’ve never been a fan of pocket protectors,” he said casually. “Although they certainly serve a valid purpose.”
“I own a tool belt,” she said for no reason. Then he smiled and she realized that was reason enough.
“Thank you for that mental picture,” he murmured, and pulled out a kitchen chair.
She sniffed. “I’m always dressed while wearing it.”
“Not in my mind,” he answered, and suddenly there was a charge between them, an invisible snare of energy that made her skin tingle. Her head spun and other parts of her body shimmied into the light he cast. The way she wanted him was like walking a tightrope—such a clear path to the other side, but it would be far too easy to lose her balance and plunge into the depths of her need.
“The ring is upstairs,” she told him. “I’ll get it for you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want the ring back, Jenny. Not yet.”
“I can’t do what you’re asking, Owen.”
“Sit down.” He tapped a finger on the stack of bills she’d been working on before Cooper called her to witness the miracle of the remote control dive bomber. “Tell me about all of this.”
She hadn’t meant for him to see any of it and quickly pushed the stray papers into a neat pile in the center of the table. “Just paperwork,” she said, picking up the stack and flipping it facedown.
“A lot of red ink,” he commented.
Panic streaked across her belly, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She breathed against the familiar burn. “Nothing you have to worry about. Do you want a beer or a glass of water?”
He studied her. “Must be worse than you’re letting on if you’re using decent manners to distract me.”
“What do you want me to say?” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the kitchen counter. For sanity’s sake, she needed a little distance between her and Owen.
“I know you had a solid plan. Even when we were together, you had the idea mapped out. It seems like this property is perfect for what you wanted to do with the business. What happened?”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “Like I told you the other night, life happened. Alzheimer’s happened. My mother signing over her bank account to the grifter who tricked her into believing she was buying long-term care insurance happened. Paying for a private room at an amazing assisted living center happened.” She shrugged. “Me being stupid enough to believe I could make it without handouts from the Bishop family happened.”
He shook his head. “Ty considered you his equal at the landscaping company. He trusted you with everything, and I know he’s happy to have you still working there, even in a consulting role.”
“He’s a good friend, but Rocky Mountain Landscapes is his, Owen. Is it so wrong of me to want something of my own?” She held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter now. I’ve got a fixer-upper house, bills to pay, and Ty has been generous enough to let me come back to work on a contract basis. A Bishop has stepped in once again to save some Castelli ass.”
“I doubt Ty sees it that way,” Owen murmured. “He’s your friend.”
“But he’s also my boss again. For once, I wanted to be the one calling the shots.” She shook her head. “I’m going to make the garden center a reality. It’ll just take more time than I’d planned.”
“I could help.”
“Because we’re such good friends?”
“Because what I want from you is more than one night.”
Oh, God. Her knees threatened to give way and she pressed harder into the counter so she wouldn’t melt to the floor. The in
tensity in his dark eyes shook her to her core.
“I need to be in West Virginia for a week.”
Jenny blinked. Wait. What? Did he just call her a virgin?
West Virginia. He’d mentioned West Virginia. Payback for acting the part of her fake fiancé at the reunion.
“It’s more than you asked of me, and I’d like to pay you.”
“Like I’m a hooker?” she blurted.
“No,” he answered immediately. “There would be no . . . expectations. But thanks to the wonders of social media, my family now assumes I’ll have a fiancée accompanying me to the wedding.”
“You could find a willing date.”
“I want you.”
Those three words were like a blade across her heart. “Why?” she asked.
“I need whoever is with me to understand that the relationship is completely fake.”
“Are you afraid another woman might want to keep the ring for real?”
“There are benefits to marrying a man like me.”
Jenny could think of a few. The way he kissed, how patient he was with her son . . .
“My bank account to be precise,” he said casually.
“There’s more to you than your money.”
He didn’t answer but the way he studied her made her mouth go dry.
“I can’t go with you, Owen.”
“I’ll pay you twenty grand for the week.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized she’d spoken. She moved to the table, gripping the back of a chair. “Take that back. You don’t mean it.”
“I do,” he said. “If the money feels too crass, keep the ring at the end of the week. It should fetch even more at any jeweler’s.”
“You told me the ring was on loan.”
“It was for that night. Now I own it.”
“I won’t take your money and—”
“She’ll settle for the ring.”
Jenny whirled at the sound of Cooper’s voice. Her son stood in the doorway, fists clenched at his sides, staring at Owen.
“Cooper, you aren’t part of this conversation,” she said, moving toward him as if she could block him from Owen’s view. It was a silly instinct, because Owen would never do anything to hurt her son.
But Cooper could easily look over her shoulder. “And we want to borrow your Gulfstream to go to Hawaii at the end of the summer.”
“Cooper,” she shouted, squeezing his thin shoulders. “Stop that right now,” she told him in a lower tone. “This isn’t open for discussion.”
“You can use the plane,” Owen said from behind her.
“We’re not using the plane,” she told both of them, her teeth tightly clenched. What business did she have going to Hawaii, let alone on a private plane?
About as much as her son had negotiating the terms of an arrangement that was not going to happen.
“You can use the plane even if you don’t agree to West Virginia,” Owen offered.
“Agree to the week, Mom.” Cooper’s normally even-tempered gaze turned mutinous. “It’s not a big deal.”
Oh yes it was a big deal. It wasn’t just the thought of taking money to be Owen’s pretend fiancée that had her on edge. The night of her reunion had been torture with Owen so attentive at her side.
She knew he’d never be hers, and the knowledge had been like little tacks shoved under her fingernails. How could she even consider spending a week in that state? She’d drive herself and everyone around her crazy. And there was the distinct possibility she wouldn’t be able to walk away from him again with her heart intact.
“I can’t, honey. It isn’t right.”
“You need money for Grandma and to renovate the house and for the nursery.” Cooper paused, his bright green eyes boring into hers. Then he went in for the final knockout blow. “What about the college fund you’ve never started?”
“I’m going to,” she said, but they both knew it was a pipe dream. At the rate things were going, she’d have the extra money to save for college around the time Cooper was ready to retire.
“The ring would make a solid start for a college account,” Owen offered quietly.
She’d been so intent on her son she’d almost forgotten they had an audience for the humiliating tableau of maternal failure.
“It’s just like Aidan Photoshopping spring break,” Cooper told her.
A fissure of self-recrimination threatened to split her apart. How had all her years of planning brought her to this moment?
But just as quickly, the yawning gap was filled with affection for her son. She’d do anything for Cooper. Her love for him was the one thing she’d never doubted in her life. She might fail in so many areas, and had made more than her share of parenting mistakes, but her love never faltered. If he wanted this . . .
“Are you sure?”
“We’re playing pretend,” Cooper answered, smiling again. “It’s only for a week. And you owe a dollar to the swear jar.”
She traced her finger along the skin between his eyes, where a shallow crease had formed in the past few months.
He was too young to be worried about anything beyond grades and finishing his chores on time. If a week with Owen—no expectations—would erase that fine line, she’d swallow back her pride and make the best of it.
“Okay.”
Cooper stepped around her then, and she turned to see that Owen had stood from the table. The boy and the man shook hands, and her heart took another direct hit.
“We have a deal,” Cooper said, like he was an old-fashioned matchmaker, brokering a contract between the two of them.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Owen said solemnly.
I can take care of myself, Jenny wanted to shout. But who was she kidding?
Apparently satisfied, Cooper stepped toward the refrigerator. “Hey, Mom,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m going to get dessert and play Magik of Myth with Aidan. He said he’d be online by eight.”
“Take a napkin,” she said, “and only one round. You need to shower before bed tonight.”
The instructions rolled off her tongue like it was any other normal night in their house. Like she was the mother and in control, setting limits for her growing boy.
Cooper nodded, grabbing an ice cream bar from the freezer. “See ya later, Owen,” he said with a small wave.
“See ya, Coop.”
“Throw the wrapper in the trash,” she said as he walked by.
“Got it,” Cooper answered, and disappeared around the corner, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. A moment later she heard his footsteps pounding up to the second-floor attic, where he had a bedroom and TV set up. The walls in the old farmhouse were paper-thin.
The uneasy quiet that descended in the kitchen reminded her that nothing about this night was normal.
Her eyes resolutely trained to the scuffed linoleum floor, she heard rather than saw Owen take a step toward her.
“Jenny.”
She held up a hand. “Grab two beers from the fridge. I’ll meet you on the front porch, and we can work out the details of this . . . arrangement.”
Turning on her heel, she moved through the house that was filled with a mix of the secondhand furniture she’d collected and refinished over the years and the pieces she’d saved from her mother’s condo. In the soft light of the descending evening, everything looked cozy, if a little worn around the edges.
A lot like her.
In the bathroom off the front hall, she splashed cold water on her face and studied herself in the mirror above the porcelain sink.
Her skin was looking particularly pale against her bright hair, the freckles that dusted her nose and cheeks standing out in stark relief. Maybe if she hadn’t been born with red hair, and the tumbling emotions that went with it, she would have made better decisions in her life. She’d read a quote from Aristotle where he described redheads as emotionally unhousebroken, and it had always made
her smile. But she suddenly detested the lack of control that seemed to prevent her from learning to lead with her head instead of her heart.
Maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult. She could handle anything for a week, right?
CHAPTER NINE
Owen tipped back his head, eyes closed, and listened to the sounds of a quiet night outside town. Crickets chirped and a car engine hummed in the distance. The sprinklers from a nearby property sputtered on, then settled into a gentle cadence that reminded him of his childhood and long summer evenings in the small town of Hastings, West Virginia.
The noise he was used to in the city was different, a manic cacophony of traffic, late-night revelers, and the occasional homeless person heckling a group of tourists.
How had he gotten there so suddenly? One quick turn onto the interstate instead of his usual route into downtown, and he’d once again made Jenny Castelli an integral part of his life.
But not his heart. He was smarter than that this time around.
It was difficult to remember he even had a brain when Jenny dropped onto the porch next to him, snagging the beer he held out to her.
She smelled like fresh citrus and looked like a beautiful woodland fairy come to life in the dusky shadows of approaching night. In spite of all the places he’d seen in the world and all the views he’d enjoyed, nothing compared to looking out over the ramshackle property with Jenny’s leg just brushing the fabric of his pants.
“Are we good?” he asked softly.
“My son seems to think so.”
“He’s like your own personal soldier of fortune,” he said. He knew he should be a gentleman and give her a way out of the deal Cooper had insisted she take, but he couldn’t force his mouth to form the words. Instead he said, “It won’t be too bad, and you’ll have your garden center.”
“Don’t forget the start of a college fund.” She bit off a laugh. “I can’t believe he played that card.” She turned to study him. “Why is a date for your brother’s wedding so important? Are we revisiting the pain of being left behind during family vacations?”
Meant for You Page 10
