Headed for Trouble (The McKay Family #1) (28 page)

He had every intention of telling Moira about the pushy bastard.

But then he got the call from his daughter.

His wife—sweet, sweet Meg—was in the hospital. They thought she’d had a heart attack.

He completely forgot all about the arrogant schmuck who’d delayed his lunch.

*   *   *

“Yes, yes … look, you handle it. You’ve been to every meeting and you know what’s going on, what we expect if they actually want us to fund them.”

Neve stood in the doorway, listening to Moira as she talked.

When she caught sight of the annoyance on her sister’s face, she leaned against the arched entry and waited.

“I’m sorry, but it will have to suffice, Angie. My top man at the museum needs some personal time off and we can’t go off schedule now, which means I need to be out there.”

Moira saw Neve and gave her a distracted smile as she wrapped up the conversation.

As Moira put the phone down, Neve edged a few feet into the office. It had been their mother’s office once, but clearly Moira had put her stamp on it. The blue walls were the same, and the colors of the rug, warm and thick beneath their feet, were faded but still beautiful. It had belonged to their great-grandmother, something she’d picked up on a yearly trip to Europe decades ago.

But many other things were different. The lush green drapes that blocked much of the sun’s light, the deep cherry furniture replacing the pale, blond oak their mother had been fond of.

“Working?” she asked as Moira dropped down into the chair behind the massive desk. Somehow, she still managed to make the move look elegant and graceful.

Of course, Moira McKay could make
anything
look elegant and graceful.

“Nonstop.” Moira rested her head on the back of the chair for a moment. “You remember Walt Stephenson?”

Neve squinted. “Barely. He worked on some projects with Dad, didn’t he?”

“Yep. He’s been helping me with the museum, but his wife had a heart attack.”

“Oh, no!” Meg, Neve remembered. Meg had often been there in the days after the funeral, dropping in to check on them, offering to watch her if Ella Sue needed to run errands. She was a sweet, sweet lady.

“She’ll be fine. Walt held on like he was drowning when I stopped in to check, but they think she’s out of danger.” Moira popped open one eye. “He’s this big, gruff, grouchy son of a bitch, but his wife turns him into a teddy bear. He all but cried when the doctors came to get him.”

She sat up straighter, then flipping through a thick stack of folders on her desk. “I’m going to have to juggle my schedule so I can get out there more than once or twice a week. I was supposed to go to Sydney for a few days for meetings, but that will have to wait.”

“Sydney?”

“Australia.” Moira shot her a grin. “One of the patents Dad held—there’s a medical group there who is interested in it.”

“Are we…” Neve stopped and looked away. “Is McKay thinking of selling it?”

“It’s
we
, Neve,” Moira said quietly. “
We
.”

Neve slanted a look at her sister. “I don’t quite feel like
we
is a thing yet, Moira. I want it to be, but…”

“It’s always been
we
.”

When Neve didn’t respond, Moira sighed. “Anyway, yes, we are thinking of selling—or possibly a merger between our medical arm and their company. They have some interesting ideas on making some sort of gadget—or improving something—for clinics and smaller hospitals. It has something to do with MRIs, I think.” Moira pursed her lips, pausing over a folder. “Yeah. MRIs. It would help a lot of people and they’ve got a good brain behind the project. I just wanted to get a better feel of who we’d be working with. But I’ll have to reschedule. I can’t leave with Walt not being there and I can’t let the museum fall behind schedule. We’re set to open in a month.”

“Well, I’d offer to help, but I don’t know what to do.” Neve moved to the window and rocked back on her heels as she stared out over the garden.

“Didn’t Brannon dump enough on you?”

Neve lifted a brow.

Moira smiled blandly. “He’s the king of starters. Staying power, though…”

Neve almost choked. “Eesh, Moira! Imagery!”

“Heh. I told him that once and he turned as red as his hair.” Impishly, Moira added, “So be sure to work it into a conversation if you can.”

Neve rolled her eyes and plucked at a loose thread on her jeans. “I’ll do what I can. Anyway, yeah. I’m working on picking out the furniture and all that for inside the winery.”

“It’s a big deal, Nevie. That winery is his baby.” She rolled her eyes. “Give him some time and he’ll drag you down there. You’ll learn more about wine and soil than you
ever
wanted to know. Anyway, how is it going? Making a lot of headway?”

“It’s going.” Neve shrugged. “How much headway I’m making … well. I don’t even know why Bran asked me to help with this.”

“You’re helping with the design part, Neve. You always had a good eye for that. It’s not like he asked for you to come up with the blueprints.” She grinned. “I offered a few suggestions there and he bit my head off. You should be flattered … Brannon asked you to help dress his baby.” She sighed and looked down at everything spread out in front of her.

Neve watched as her sister wrinkled her nose and pushed at one piece of paper with a look of acute dislike.

“What’s up?”

“Meeting. Roberts. Some state senator.. He’s hobnobbing and in the baby-kissing stage. His people keep nagging me about letting him do an event at the museum.” She slid Neve a look. “That museum is
my
baby. I don’t want some two-faced politician coming in and throwing mud on my baby.”

“Tell him to fuck off.” Neve shrugged.

“But it would be good publicity for the place. Which is why I keep putting off making a decision.” Moira made a face. Then she lifted a brow, pinning Neve with a hard look. “Sooooo…”

At that tone, Neve flicked her sister a cautious glance.

“So, what?”

“You’ve been seeing a lot of Ian lately. You two having lunch again?”

“It’s lunch.” Defensively, Neve crossed her arms across her chest. “We eat it daily, so why not eat it together?”

“Hey, no reason that I can think of.” Moira jabbed the pen in Neve’s direction. “Trust me, there are much worse people to … have lunch with around here.”

Blood rushed up to her cheeks, but Neve couldn’t quite wipe the smile off her face.

“Geez, between you and Brannon today.” She crossed her arms across her middle. But she couldn’t even really say she was upset by their nosiness. She almost even
enjoyed
it. “So, he … Ian, I mean. He said something about maybe a movie. Or go over into Louisiana or something for the day. Kind of a date, I guess. A real one.”

Moira lifted a brow. “Honey, the two of you have already
been
on several real dates, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“That’s just lunch,” she said, fighting the urge to squirm.

“Okay.” A look of mild interest on her face, Moira straightened in the chair and pinned a look on Neve. “So during these … lunches … he’s kept his hands completely to himself? Conversation never veers into the personal territory? Everything feels completely friendly? Like it would if you were … I don’t know … having lunch with Gideon?”

Neve glared at her.

Moira grinned in return. “See? Dates.” As Neve started to rub the heel of her hand over her chest, Moira chuckled. “Honey, relax. That’s one hell of a man to have all but falling over his feet to get you to notice him.”

*   *   *

One hell of a man
.

A day later, Neve reminded herself of her sister’s words as she caught sight of Ian, already sitting in what was rapidly becoming
their
spot. He saw her and rose, the smile on his face setting her heart to racing.

Yeah, Gideon smiling at her wouldn’t cause that.

And she had to admit, she knew none of her other
friends
would cause this reaction, either.

“I’ve been thinking,” Ian said as he pulled out her chair.

“Yeah?”

He waited.

“So what are you thinking about?” she asked, sitting down and scooting in.

“Well, right now I’m thinking your brother and you don’t have much in common.” Ian’s cheeks creased with his grin. “Because he wouldn’t have let that
I’ve been thinking
comment go without commenting on it.”

“I did comment.” She tried not to let herself drool as he tugged out his seat and sat back down. “I said
yeah
.”

“Not much of a comment.” Ian picked up the tall glass, condensation already forming drops on the red plastic. “
But …
as I was saying, I’ve been thinking. We should go on a date.”

Neve had been ready to give him the smart-ass comment he’d clearly expected, but the words trapped in her throat.

“We … um … well, didn’t we discuss this? The movie … or whatever?” Panic started to chitter in her mind. What if she’d misunderstood him? What if Moira had been wrong? What if these lunches hadn’t been dates or what if—

“We talked about it. But you never gave much of an answer and I’m thinking maybe I didn’t make myself clear. I want to do that. I’d like to take you out. On a date.” His fingers brushed against hers and she automatically turned over her hand, gripping his. “In a way, we’ve already been on
six
dates now, if you consider lunch.”

The band around her chest loosened and she started to breathe.

“Dinner,” Ian said, his voice soft and coaxing. “We’ll go out for dinner, take a ride. We can see a movie if you want, or if you don’t, we can just ride around and talk.”

His lids drooped and the temperature spiked—it was already a sweltering ninety degrees and she wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d spontaneously combusted. “And I could kiss you again.”

“You have to take me out to kiss me?”

“No.” He stroked his thumb across her knuckles and lifted her hand. As he pressed a kiss to the back, he met her eyes. “But I want to take you out. And I want to kiss you. Two birds … one stone.”

She practically wilted in the seat.
I want to kiss you … yes, please!

“I guess a date isn’t totally unreasonable.” She focused on him, staring at him hard as she pushed past all the noise building up in her head. So much going on up there, it was a wonder she had room for
her
thoughts.

“It’s been a very, very long time since I’ve gone on a
date
.” She thought back and realized it had been close to five years, although were they really dates? Those frozen, stilted dinners with William where he’d been more focused on parading her about instead of spending time with her?

Ian’s warm, low laugh had her pulse bumping up. “I’ll do my best to make sure our date is a memorable one.”

*   *   *

Hair. Check.

Nails. Check.

Makeup. Raid Moira’s bathroom … check.

It took twice as long as it would have taken ten years earlier. Even five years ago. Apparently primping isn’t like riding a bike.

But as the minute hand hovered at five ’til seven, Neve stood in front of the floor-length mirror in her bathroom and gave herself a critical study. Considering she still needed to put another ten pounds or so back on and considering she’d ended up having Ella Sue give her a quick haircut to deal with the dead ends and considering she’d spent nearly forty-five minutes fixing the natural disasters that were her hands, Neve thought she looked pretty good.

The dress was cut in a retro style with wide shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline that nipped in at the waist before flaring out wide in a circle skirt. The black petticoat underneath rustled as she walked and she’d found black and green underwear that matched the dress and petticoat. Just in case she decided …
no, not thinking about that
, she told herself.

A few years ago, she would have had a few dozen pieces of jewelry to select from, but the things that had been so easy before felt impossible now and she stood in front of the lovely cabinet that held the jewelry she’d left behind, unsure what to wear.

Hesitant, she touched her fingers to the pearl necklace there. Brannon and Moira had given it to her when she’d graduated, but she’d left it behind in a fit of pique. She was glad now, because it either would have been sold or she might have been forced to leave it with William when she ran.

She’d gotten rid of almost everything she’d taken with her.

Now, she took it out and wrapped the short, simple strand around her neck, keeping her gaze downcast as she finished the task. Once it was done, she turned to look.

“Oh, my.”

She jumped at the sound of Moira’s voice.

“I’m sorry.”

Meeting her sister’s gaze in the mirror, Neve forced a smile. “It’s okay.” Looking back at her reflection, she squared her shoulders. “How do I look?”

“Lovely.” Moira moved closer. “The necklace…”

Neve reached up and touched it, her gaze falling away. “That day…”

“Don’t, Nevie.” Moira slid an arm around her waist. “I…” She stopped and lifted her face to the ceiling, blinking hard and fast. “At some point, we’ll have to talk about it all, I know that. But I’m still spinning over everything you went through and I think it would be better to wait until we’re all steadier. But I’m sorry. Brannon and I … we tried, but I’m starting to realize we made some serious mistakes. If we’d put you in therapy, or maybe just talked to you more…”

A knot settled in Neve’s throat. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. Some of it, at least.” Moira looked back at her. “Can we…”

Neve reached out and caught her sister’s hand. “It’s done. It’s over. If you made mistakes, then so did I.” Squeezing Moira’s fingers, she made herself smile. “What I want is to stop looking back. Can we do that?”

“We can do that.” Moira’s eyes glittered overbright. “So. Ian, huh? That accent makes my girl parts all tingly.”

Neve’s mouth dropped open. And then she started to laugh.

*   *   *

“Oof.”

Ian Campbell wasn’t a man to be struck speechless, but that was about all he could manage when he first looked up and saw Neve descending the stairs, dressed in some green confection that made her skin glow and set her hair on fire.