A Family Affair: The Wish: Truth in Lies, Book 9 (19 page)

And what would that prove? That he was sick and deranged? That once again, he’d been blindsided and obliterated by a woman? It would prove exactly nothing and while he might play what-if scenarios, Adam knew he’d never do it because no matter what the woman said or how she looked, and no matter if she had a
great
southern accent, she was not Bree.

That was the problem, that would always be the problem, and he’d damn well better get used to it. Roman and Angie had taken pity on his sorry soul, invited him to dinner, opened their home, and given him a glimpse of family life, the life he’d wanted with Bree, the one he’d never have with her. After the second invitation, Adam declined because witnessing true marital bliss only made him feel worse. Instead, he’d taken to staying at home, reading and making gourmet meals that ended up in Roman’s refrigerator. He’d planned to have a few glasses of wine tonight, fix ahi tuna with a side of couscous, but Roman had conned him into a business dinner downtown.

The restaurant was the last place Adam wanted to go, but Roman had insisted, said the potential client, a woman, was a big fan of the place. Great. He had to spend the evening with a woman in the restaurant where he met Bree Kinkaid. Just great. When Adam couldn’t stall any longer, he grabbed his jacket and car keys and headed out the door. The sooner he got there, the sooner he could leave. When he arrived at the restaurant, the hostess greeted him. “I have a 6:30 reservation. Brandon.”

She checked her list, smiled. “The other party is already here.” Another smile. “Please, follow me.”

Adam sucked in a breath, wished for the twelfth time the potential client hadn’t chosen this restaurant. How was he going to be able to think of anything but Bree Kinkaid?

“Here we are, sir. Enjoy your meal.”

He didn’t hear the hostess because he was staring at the woman in the booth. She had her head bent, but the strawberry-blond hair pulled him in, choked the breath form his lungs. How many “Bree Kinkaids” had he seen since he’d left Magdalena? Every strawberry blond was a potential Bree and yet none of them were.
Nobody was Bree Kinkaid but Bree
. The woman lifted her head, met his gaze, her full lips half-parted. “Hello, Adam.”

Bree Kinkaid. He stared, blinked, stared harder. The woman who’d haunted him for weeks was a touch away. Adam swallowed, forced a nonchalance into his voice and said, “Bree. What a surprise.”

She offered him a smile, soft, hesitant. Hopeful? “Will you join me?”

Adam slid into the booth opposite her, took in the paleness of her face, the dark smudges under her eyes. “Are you okay?” Her bottom lip quivered and she started to nod, then shook her head. He forgot that she’d driven him out of Magdalena and told him he disgusted her, forgot all of it but the pain and vulnerability staring back at him. He reached across the table, clasped her hand. “Is it the kids? Did something happen?”

“No, they’re fine.” She met his gaze, her eyes bright with tears. “Oh, Adam, I was so wrong about you. I am so sorry.”

So. This was about them. He eased his hand from hers, settled back in the booth. Before he could comment, the waiter appeared and he ordered a scotch, glad the break in conversation gave him an extra few seconds to consider his response, whatever that would be. What would he say?
Why are you sorry, Bree? Tell me, in detail
. Or,
You were pretty firm about your opinion of me the last time I saw you. What’s changed?
But when the waiter left, Adam said none of these things.

“Adam? Don’t you have anything to say?”

Oh, yes, he had plenty to say, starting and ending with
Are you going to change your mind tomorrow? Or next Tuesday? Will I be a villain or a hero then? What will I be, Bree?
But he settled for “Apology accepted.” That answer didn’t seem to satisfy her because she sniffed twice and those full lips trembled. What did she expect? They were over, no matter what she said or why she was here, but his damnable heart didn’t seem to agree. He forced logic to ignore his heart. “You know, you could have called to apologize instead of making the trip.”

She nodded, the frown deepening, shoulders slumping. “I could have, but I wanted to do it in person.” Bree paused, cleared her throat. “I wanted to see you.”

Silly heart of his pounded against his ribs so damn fast it hurt. He refused to acknowledge the reason. “I see.” The waiter delivered his scotch and Adam took a healthy swallow. Then another. “Roman told me I was meeting a potential client. So, the two of you set this up?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And nobody thought to just tell me the truth? You were coming to Chicago for a personal meet-and-greet and to extend an apology?”

Bree looked away. “We weren’t sure you’d agree to a meeting.”

“Ah.” He rubbed his jaw, studied her. “A meeting. Interesting word. Very business-sounding, considering our history.”

Bree blushed a strawberry pink and blurted out, “I want you to come back to Magdalena and MacGregor Cabinets, finish what you started. You’ve analyzed the manufacturing area, but what about purchasing and engineering?” Her face turned pinker, her voice more animated. “We could be a lot more efficient and with you guiding me—”

“No.”

Those amber eyes glittered. “No? Just like that?”

“It would never work.” He was not going to sit beside her every day and maintain a business relationship with the same woman who’d pierced his soul and stolen a chunk of his heart. Nope. No way.

“It could work.” She spread her hands on the table, leaned forward. “We could make it work. Daddy said he’d stay out of it, wouldn’t bother us or our decisions.”

Was she talking about MacGregor Cabinet decisions or them as “couple” decisions? The woman had already spun him around three times and he had a hard time following her train of thought. Typical Bree Kinkaid. Never a dull moment. “You want me to come back to MacGregor Cabinets and work beside you every day.” He paused, eyed her over the rim of his glass. “Like before.”

“Uh-huh.”

He really could get lost in those eyes, and that voice with its soft drawl was every man’s fantasy. “Except it wouldn’t be like before, would it? We’d be business partners. Period.”

She eyed him, stumbled over the next word. “Well…”

“Right. Well.” Her lack of conviction annoyed him. “Of course, you might pick up with the whole I-don’t-want-a-relationship thing again and tempt me with no-strings sex. And I might be fool enough to consider it, but I still have the scars from the last time, so I think I’ll exercise caution and pass.” Bree stared at him as if she didn’t quite understand. Fine, he’d spell it out for her. “No thanks.”

“What if this weren’t no-strings? What if I wanted strings and whatever else went with it? And what if I said I didn’t care where those strings led?” She paused, licked her lips. “Maybe they’d lead to Chicago, but I wouldn’t care. What then?”

Was she saying she wanted a serious relationship with him, no restrictions? Adam sipped his scotch, studied her. “Why don’t you translate all of the what-ifs for me and say what you really mean and what you really want? Can you do that?”

“Of course I can.”

If this weren’t such a serious situation, he’d laugh, or at least smile. Bree always thought her convoluted methods of conversation were transparent and intelligible. Usually, they were neither, but that’s one of the things that intrigued the hell out of him. Life with Bree would never be predictable or boring. Still, he wanted her to spell out exactly what she was offering. “I’m listening.”

She sat up prim and proper like she was in a classroom and had been asked to recite a passage she’d memorized. “I messed up. Bad. I didn’t trust myself enough to trust you and what you were offering. I was so dang afraid to open my heart that the second I found out you hadn’t told me the truth about why you were in Magdalena, I shut down and refused to listen to anything you said. I did some serious heart-searching and realized I’d sent away the most noble man I’d ever met, all because I was afraid, but I’m not afraid anymore.” She paused, cleared her throat, and held his gaze. “Not true. I am afraid but that’s not going to stop me from going after what I want.” Her voice dipped. “And I want you, Adam Brandon. I want a life with you. So, please don’t go. Please.” She clasped her hands in front of her as if in prayer. “I mean, I know I can’t tell you what to do, but would you think about staying?” Her eyes misted, her voice cracked. “Please?”

Adam stared at her. “Go where?” What the hell was she talking about?

“To Italy or France or wherever it is you’re headed.” Those full lips pulled into a pout. “Where are you going and what are you running from?” She leaned toward him, lowered her voice. “Is it me? Are you running from me?”

“I’m not running from anyone and I’m not going to Italy or France.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “Who told you that?”

She studied him, her lips curving into a small smile. “It’s okay to admit a weakness. I think it makes a man more human.” A pause, followed by a breathy “And more desirable.”

“Bree. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What about Australia? You’re going somewhere for nine months or more.” Her voice dribbled to a soft “Aren’t you?”

Adam shook his head as the beginnings of the truth took shape. Bree hadn’t just concocted a story about a trans-Atlantic trip of unknown destination. Someone had planted it and made sure she heard about it. Roman had been bugging him to contact Bree and try again, but when he’d had no success, the attempts had fizzled out. Or had they? Maybe his friend had simply found another method to accomplish his mission. Damn it, what had Roman done? “There’s no trip, Bree. I think someone wanted to get you here by appealing to your emotions. I have a feeling I know who it is, too.”

Her lips pinched into a thin line. “I know who it is and they’re in cahoots.”

“They?”

“Roman and my father.”

Now that surprised him. “Roman, yes, but your father? I seriously doubt he’d take part in a scheme to get us together.” He shrugged, offered a half smile. “Unless he offered to pay to have me dropped in some desolate location, never to be heard from again. That I can imagine.”

“No, you’re wrong there. He…” She settled her gaze on his hands, licked her lips. “He wants us to be together, said I have to stop being afraid to live, and admitted he has to let me find my own happiness, not the one he thinks I should have.” Bree lifted a shoulder, fingered the wineglass. “He just wants to protect me but he said he has to stop being selfish and let me live my life.” She slid her gaze to his, and those eyes burned him in a way that stole his breath. “Wherever that may take me.”

“Bree? What are you saying?”

She lifted a hand, fanned herself. “I am most certainly not used to courting a man, that’s for sure, but look at me, as pathetic as all get-out.”

Adam hid a smile, reached across the table, and covered her hand with his. “I think it’s very attractive.”

“You would.” Her lips twitched, pulled into a full-blown smile.

His smile matched hers. “And sexy as hell.”

“Hmm. Sexy, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Can I come sit over there, next to you?”

“As long as you don’t mind me touching you.” He could not wait to feel that silky skin, taste those lips…

The look she gave him this time said “please and thank you.” “I absolutely do not mind.” She scooted out of the booth and slid next to him. “Oh, Adam, I missed you.”

“Show me,” he murmured as he took her face between his hands, devoured her mouth until she whimpered. He pulled back, whispered, “Maybe we should take this somewhere more private. My place is close by.”

Bree trailed a hand up his thigh, stopped inches from his crotch. “I think that’s a very good idea. Maybe the best you’ve ever had.”

He laughed and pulled her closer. “I love you, Bree Kinkaid. I think I loved you from the first time I spotted you in this booth.”

She touched his cheek, leaned in, and kissed him softly on the mouth. “You’re in my heart, Adam Brandon. I love you and I’m so sorry for all the hurt I caused you.”

Her words smothered him with emotion.
She loved him
. He traced her lips, brushed a kiss over her temple, and whispered, “We definitely need to get out of here. Like now.” He definitely needed to get her home and into his bed. Adam pulled out his wallet, tossed two twenties on the table. “Let’s go.”

Bree grabbed his hand and followed him out of the restaurant. “My hotel’s closer.”

He thrust an arm around her shoulder, pulled her close. They were going to do things his way this time, no more hotel rooms and strange beds. “Uh-uh. I want you in my bed tonight.” She smiled up at him as though she didn’t care where they ended up as long as they ended up together.
Together
. He liked the sound of that. A lot.

“Should we stop and pick up my bags? I have a few personal items and my clothes—”

“Trust me, you won’t need anything, especially clothes.” He pictured her sprawled out naked on his bed, satisfied and exhausted. Yeah, he liked the sound
and
the visual of that. When they reached his car, Adam opened the door and Bree slipped inside. He made his way around to the driver’s side and when he’d started the car, he turned to her and said, “Come here. Let me taste you.”

She was more than willing to do what he asked. In fact, if he hadn’t stopped her, he swore she would have straddled the console and cozied up in his lap, those busy little hands exploring his body, touching, stroking, unzipping… And then what would have happened? He pushed the thoughts away, forced himself to focus on right now and getting home so he could have his real fantasy with the woman he loved. Adam cleared his throat and said, “I think you’d better stay on your side until we get home.”

Home
. He liked that word when it was linked with Bree. She eased back in her seat, rested her hand on Adam’s leg, stroked her fingers along the inside of his thigh until he clamped a hand to stop her.

“In a few minutes, you can do whatever you want.”

She laughed, turned toward him, and said, “Count on it.”

He shot her a sideways glance, frowned. “You are a witch, Bree Kinkaid, and a temptress.”