That, however, wasn’t the most immediate problem.
How could I have everything I need for the lab and not have a single dress? Not one.
In practical white panties and a matching white bra, she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. In some alternate universe I could be sexy. She let herself imagine his expression if she went to dinner in full makeup, with her hair smooth and cascading over her bare shoulders in a backless black dress. She ran her hand up the outside of her thigh and could almost feel his touch.
She shook her head at the passion she saw in her eyes. Never going to happen. It’s not worth the risk. One slip, one action that brought attention to herself, and she could ruin everything. The goal of dinner is to convince him that he shouldn’t give me another thought. He needs to leave on Sunday thinking there’s no rush to return.
I need a window of time to pack up my lab.
And a moving truck.
If all goes well, his crew will arrive late on Monday, and I’ll be long gone. To where, I don’t know, but I can’t stay here.
The fake wall she’d erected to conceal her lab in the back of the six-car garage would fool most people, but not a renovation team with building specs.
And not a man who once lived here.
I need to keep him occupied, distracted long enough that he won’t look around. She lifted a T-shirt off a hanger and grabbed a pair of jeans. But not so occupied that he wants to stay. So, maybe this is perfect. A moment later she brushed out her shoulder-length hair and made a face at how it seemed to have a mind of its own. Rather than tame and sophisticated, it preferred wild and unmanageable. She threw it back in a ponytail again and inspected her face one last time. As far as primping goes, brushing my teeth will have to suffice.
Does it really matter what he thinks of me? Am I seriously worried what Mr. Sexy Smile will think of my near-invisible eyelashes?
That’s my new priority?
She squared her shoulders. Only because my plan to distract him relies on him remaining at least a little attracted to me.
Not because all he has to do is look at me and I’m a quivering mass of sexual frustration.
She sighed and turned away from her reflection. The hardest lie to maintain was one uttered to someone who knew the truth.
Chapter Three
Gabe had just paid the private chef he’d hired for the evening and was in the process of walking him to the door when his phone rang. He shut the door behind the departing chef and groaned when he saw the name of the caller.
Luke.
He normally enjoyed hearing from his younger brother. Luke’s stories were never dull. Whether it was a detailed retelling of nearly dying while hanging off the side of a mountain or a colorful description of what goes through a person’s head when his parachute deploys late, Luke was entertaining. If Gabe had to guess, though, they weren’t about to have one of those phone calls.
“Luke,” Gabe reluctantly answered while walking back into the dining room to light the candles. No, they weren’t necessary, but like an expensive suit, lighting made an impression and sent a message. He and Josie were engaged in a game of sorts, and this was his move. Where the evening would lead, well, that would be her move.
“Gabe, did you make it down to the ranch?”
So not in the mood for this. “I did. I’m here until Sunday.”
“Does it look the same?”
“Yes and no.” Luke clearly misunderstood Gabe’s purpose for being there. “I haven’t changed my mind about letting it go to auction. Before you start listing reasons why you think I should reconsider or jump into some reverie of how Mom taught us to ride quads here—”
“Did she? I don’t remember.”
The hint of regret in Luke’s voice stopped Gabe short. For someone who had often put himself in danger for the thrill of it, Luke had a softer side that Gabe made an effort not to trample. Gabe didn’t see his mother in himself, but he saw her in Luke. Just glimpses. That side of him made it easy to imagine Luke married with children. He cared about things on a deeper level than Gabe did.
Gabe was more like his father and not the best of who he’d been, at least according to Hunter, his fraternal twin. He’d rather be at work than anywhere else. He was competitive by nature and felt most alive when striking a deal. Although he loved his family, they came second to his ambition. If he couldn’t buy and sell it for a profit, chances were he had little interest in it. At the end of the day, money and power were all that endured. His father had taught him that. Still, that didn’t mean Gabe needed to be an ass every moment of every day.
“I found some photo albums in Dad’s old office. Do you want them?”
“Not the scrapbooking brother, Gabe,” Luke said dryly.
Gabe laughed. “Who is? Maybe Aunt Claire will take them and make digital copies of the photos.”
“Good idea.”
“How are things going at the resort? I still can’t believe you’re keeping the place. What happened to my brother the adventurer?”
“I found a new adventure. And I’m happy. Lizzie and Kaitlyn have changed the way I look at life. I know you’re set on walking away from the ranch, but don’t rush. Lizzie gave me that advice when I considered selling the resort. Dad had something he wanted each of us to know about him and ourselves. Somehow he knew I belonged with Lizzie, and he brought us back together. There’s something at that ranch he wanted you to discover for yourself.”
“You lucked out with a simple deed transfer. The ranch came with a one-month occupancy clause. One full month. Even if I wanted to keep it, I don’t have time for that.”
“You sound just like Dad.” And I know that isn’t a compliment.
“I love you, Luke, but I’m not having this conversation.”
“He never had time to talk either. I wonder if that was what he regretted in the end. Maybe your inheritance isn’t so much about the ranch as it is a reminder that some things are worth putting aside time for.”
Luke’s comment cut uncomfortably close, so Gabe brushed it off. “Or he knew it had fallen into disrepair and left it to someone who wouldn’t let memories blind him to the fact that none of us need this place anymore. When was the last time you were here? The last time any of us were? It’s a relic from our childhood, like an old box of Legos stored in an attic. The time has come to let it go.”
The doorbell rang, hopefully announcing Josie’s arrival. “Speaking of going, my company just arrived. It was good to hear from you, though, and I’m happy for you. I really am. Tell Lizzie I’m glad she’s back.”
“I will—”
Gabe hung up before Luke had time to say any more. He forced himself to walk instead of race to the door, a fact that brought a smile to his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so into a woman that everything else fell away. He hadn’t gotten through more than a couple emails because his thoughts kept going back to her. There wasn’t a deal proposal that rivaled the exceptional memory of how she’d tried to knock him off his feet. More than once he’d closed his eyes and remembered how she’d looked standing there, gun in hand, chest heaving, looking like Daisy Duke’s biker sister. In other words—hotter than hell.
That’s all it took to shoot his concentration to hell.
He didn’t want or need to know everything about her, so he wasn’t disappointed that she’d arrived before the background check on her had. Being with her rivaled how he felt when he closed a deal. Like an adrenaline junkie who wants to hop right back on a rollercoaster as soon as it ends, Josie was a ride Gabe wasn’t in a hurry to end.
The uncertain look on Josie’s face when he opened the door sent him on an internal tail spin. She was a confusing mixture of bold and vulnerable, which fueled conflicting desires within him. Part of him wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until the fire he’d seen earlier was back in her eyes. Another part of him wanted to reassure her that regardless of how he felt, not a single thing wou
ld happen between them unless she wanted it just as much. He settled for opening the door wider and saying, “Come in.”
She looked him over but didn’t move to enter the house. “You changed into another suit.”
He straightened his already perfectly placed tie. “I did.”
She glanced down at her own attire then around the foyer. “Is anyone else here?”
A smile curled his lips. “No.”
“Oh, okay.” She stepped past him and tucked her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “I didn’t change my mind about not wanting to go anywhere.”
He closed the door and moved to stand next to her. “Good, because I had a meal prepared for us here.” He placed a hand on her lower back and was surprised at how tense she was. He studied her profile and asked himself if he could have misread her response to him earlier. She wasn’t looking like a woman who wanted to be swept up into his bedroom. She seemed nervous but determined.
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if trying to warm up. “Was that who was here earlier? I thought we were having something delivered.”
“I prefer healthy when I can. I eat a lot of chicken and—”
“Me, too,” she said and smiled for the first time. “Free range and hormone free. I tried to be a vegetarian once, but there are some meats I couldn’t give up. Do you like fish? I don’t, but I love—”
“Salmon?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“I could eat it twice a week and not get sick of it, but it has to be perfectly prepared. I’m glad you like it because it’s what we’re having tonight. I found a local chef who is known for his salmon dish. I’ve never used him before, but we’ll find out together if he’s the culinary genius he claims to be.”
She relaxed slightly beneath his hand. “He really said that?”
“Right after I asked him not to overcook the fish.”
“You didn’t.” She smiled again.
He shrugged and led her toward the dining room. “I know what I want; why settle for less?”
Her smile faded. “Most people don’t think that way. We’re all working on surviving.”
The seriousness of her tone made him stop and turn to look down at her. He bit back the first several responses that came to him. He wanted to say that she didn’t have to live that way, that he’d help her. He wanted to ask her if someone had hurt her then hunt the bastard down. He had a feeling, though, that once he opened that door it would be a rabbit hole to trouble. He didn’t know her. Did he want to? Not just her body . . .
Was it possible to know one without the other? He’d planned the evening thinking it was, but suddenly he wasn’t so sure. Brannigan Realty was gearing up for expansion. He needed his head in the game.
Advice his father had once given him echoed in his head. “If you’re looking for a reason to fail, Gabe, you’ll find one. There will always be an excuse to not finish something. The people who succeed are the ones who stay focused and get things done.”
It was difficult to imagine his father falling for the free spirt his mother had been. Gabe realized that he thought of his father only in terms of who he’d become after his mother had died. Being on the ranch was bringing back memories. There’d been another side of him. Before the nannies. Before he spent more time at the office than he spent at home. Flashes of his father, sitting at the dinner table, his robust laugh booming in response to something his mother had said. That man would have asked Josie if someone had hurt her, and he would have made it right.
Which man am I?
“Are you okay?” Josie asked and frowned when he laughed without humor at the irony of her question.
He didn’t feel okay at all. His stomach was twisted in a painful knot. He wasn’t normally introspective, but his emotions were heightened. More than anything he wished he could call his father and ask him if it had been worth it. If Colin Brannigan had a second chance at life, would he have chosen to love the woman he was fated to lose too soon?
Would he still have had seven sons if he knew he’d become a man none of them knew how to reach?
And what would he say about Josie? Would he tell Gabe to run, not walk, away or pull her into the shelter of his arms?
I never called Dad for advice. I always knew what I wanted. What is wrong with me?
He thought back to what Luke had said, “You may not think you’re grieving for Dad, but you are.” Is that what this is? I’m grieving?
Josie’s probably fine.
I’m the one with problems.
He realized he hadn’t answered her yet and forced a smile. “Sorry, I’m a grouch when I’m hungry.”
She studied his expression, then a cautious smile returned to her face. “That’s something else we have in common.”
His hand tensed on her back. She was beginning to trust him and he suddenly regretted putting out the candles. Yes, he wanted a night with her, but he also wanted to know what had put those shadows beneath her eyes.
Would one cost him the other?
And, if so, which did he want more?
Josephine was a wreck by the time she sat in the chair Gabe held out for her. She’d expected to be passing each other slices of pizza from cardboard boxes. She hadn’t expected a romantic setting, her favorite meal, and for him to look even better than he had earlier.
He left the room for a moment, and she slumped in her seat. Am I a fool to think I can control this situation?
Or him.
I should have had a plan B. Something with chloroform.
No, unlike in the movies, it actually takes five to seven minutes for a person to pass out from it.
Tranquilizers? Even if I had them, I’d feel guilty about leaving anyone in that state.
She sat up straight. Toughen up, Josephine. You can do this. Just keep him occupied without sleeping with him. Unless he comes out of that kitchen in nothing but an apron. A flash fantasy of him doing just that brought a wistful smile to her face. Did he look as good out of the suit as he did in it? She closed her eyes and let herself imagine his muscles flexing as he walked toward her. With one strong sweep, he’d clear the table and haul her to him. His kiss would be—
“Josie?”
Her eyes flew open at his amused tone, and she blushed clear to her toes. He was standing beside the table, fully dressed, with two plates of salmon and vegetables. She swallowed hard and said the first excuse that came to mind. “Just saying grace.” Oh, shit, I shouldn’t have said that. There are lies and then there are instant tickets to hell. Throwing God under the bus as a cover for lusty daydreams can’t be good.
He gave her a long look then placed her plate in front of her. “My family is Irish. We used to say grace when we were children. My mother insisted on it.”
God, if you’re listening, I’ll start saying grace. I promise. “That sounds like a nice way to grow up.”
“It was. I don’t know that my mother was all that religious, but she wanted us to remember to be grateful.” Gabe placed his food down and took his seat across from her.
“What happened to her?”
“She died when I was ten.” He made a face. “Until I came here I hadn’t realized how different things were when she was part of our lives.” He stopped and nodded at her food. “Eat. I don’t know why I’m talking about this. She’s been gone a long time.”
Josephine understood why. Losing her father had been like losing a piece of herself, a part she wasn’t sure how to go on without. She reached out for his hand, but closed her hand around one of the napkins instead. She had to remind herself that she barely knew him. “She sounds like a beautiful woman.”
He smiled sadly. “She was. Sometimes I wonder who my brothers and I would be today had she lived.”
Although she was painfully awkward at flirting, this wasn’t awkward at all because she cared more about making him feel better than how she sounded. “Your brothers? How many do you have?”
“Six.”
“Holy shit,”
she said then stopped when she realized her exclamation sounded even more vulgar in the sophistication of the setting. Having been raised by her father and his Army buddies, she could swear right along with them. She’d tried to tone it down as she got older, but it still came out now and then. She also didn’t want him to think she was passing judgment on the size of his family. “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “Don’t apologize. Most people probably think exactly the same when they hear there are so many of us. Dad used to joke it was because Mom was determined to have a girl. She might have kept going if my brothers hadn’t been so wild.”
Relaxing, Josephine took a bite of the most delicious salmon she’d ever tasted and chewed it before asking, “All wild except you?”
“I was the serious one.” He opened a bottle of wine and offered to fill her glass.
She nodded and said, “Tell me about them.”
Humor lit his eyes. “James is the oldest. Everything he touches turns to gold. When we were kids he was the first up any new hill. Hunter is my age. He was born with the gift of being able to talk me into almost anything. And it usually turned out badly for me.”