The Tycoon's Perfect Match (4 page)

She did an exaggerated shiver, and he laughed.

“Did you help him?” she asked.

“I believe so.”

“Did you do his taxes originally?”

“No. If I did, he never would have been audited.”

“Now that's confidence. Maybe I should get you to do the taxes for Sherwood. We always get audited.”

“Just say the word, and I'm there.” He couldn't believe those words had come out of his mouth.

“If I thought you were serious, I'd take you up on that.”

Even though he wanted to do more than taxes if he were ever hired at Sherwood, Mari didn't really mean that she'd hire him. She probably thought of him as just a small-town CPA.

She took a sip of coffee and smiled. “By the way, landlord, I didn't get much sleep last night. There was a loose shutter banging in the wind.”

“I'll take a look and fix it.”

“Thanks.” She pointed to the folder in his hand. “Is that for me to sign?”

He gave her the folder and a pen. “I can go through it with you. We could do a joint inspection.”

“No need. The cottage is perfect, or it will be, when you fix the shutter. And I sign several contracts a day. I can manage a little thing like this.” She glanced down at the papers.

Whoa! That was a reminder that his
little
contract and routine forms were less than insignificant in her world.

Maybe that wasn't how she'd meant it. He was just being too sensitive, due to her success and his lack of it.

He might as well fix the shutter and head back to the village.

“I have some sweats in the car. I'll fix the shutter so it won't bother you again. Mind if I use the bathroom to change?”

“No. And thanks, Brian,” she said over her shoulder, walking toward her lawn chair.

He headed for his car, taking deep breaths and counting slowly to ten. What he really wanted to do was head to the gym and let off some frustration, or jog up the logging trail that twisted around Mist Mountain.

Maybe then he'd sweat out the real reasons he hadn't gone back to Wall Street. The feelings of guilt and responsibility he'd carried for years—a burden that had long since dimmed his dreams.

He changed his clothes and put his suit into his car. Then he found a ladder in the storage barn, dusted the cobwebs off it with an old corn broom and lugged it to the cottage.

Glancing over at Mari, he saw that she had the folder open and was looking at his contract. Correction: his
little
contract.

He swore under his breath. It wasn't Mari's fault that he'd pretty much given up on his dreams. He had no one to blame but himself.

He was just about to step onto the roof when a duck flew low over Mari, quacking loudly.

She screamed and rolled off the lawn chair, hitting the ground facedown. Papers flew everywhere.

He tried not to smile as he climbed down the ladder to see if she was okay. Just as he reached her, she lifted her head and began to laugh. He helped her up and wasn't prepared for the way his nerve endings started to tingle when he touched her arms. He pulled her up and into his arms to steady her. Their foreheads touched as she looked down at her wet, muddy clothes.

“That was a duck, wasn't it?” she asked.

He grinned. “Uh-huh.”

She didn't move from his arms, but seemed to feel comfortable.

She still chuckled, and he could feel each movement of her body against his. “Do you know how dumb I feel right now?” she asked.

“I've got a good idea.”

Any resentment that was still churning inside him faded when he saw Mari's smile and heard her laugh.

“If you tell anyone that I was scared by a duck, I'll deny it.”

“Pirate promise.” He put his index finger and thumb to his lips and made like he was turning a key
and throwing it away over his shoulder. It was their old childhood pledge, a vow made whenever they were sure they would get into trouble for something they'd done.

“Pirate promise,” she mumbled, staring at his lips.

Suddenly, his mouth went dry and he couldn't swallow. Then she blinked and turned away.

He took a deep breath and let it out. What was she trying to do to him?

“I can't believe you remembered that.” Her voice seemed far away, as if she were thinking out loud.

“Of course I do.”

She blinked. “Well, I should probably get out of these muddy clothes,” she said, moving away to pick up the papers and slip them into the folder. Handing it to him, she said, “They're a bit wet, but they're signed.”

“Okay.” He put the folder onto her lounge chair and wove it under and over a couple of straps to keep it from blowing away. “I'll get it later. I'd better get back to the shutter.”

As he turned to walk away, Mari reached out to stop him. Before she touched him, she quickly dropped her hand.

“Brian, I suppose you're wondering what I'm
doing in Hawk's Lake after twelve years,” she said quietly.

He nodded. “It had crossed my mind.”

“I was always happy here—mostly,” she said quietly, looking out at the water.

“We did have a great time when we were kids,” he said truthfully. “I couldn't wait till you got here every summer.” He purposely avoided addressing the reason why she wasn't
completely
happy here. It was because of him.

He thought about their first kiss, and how sweet and warm her lips tasted—like blueberries and sunshine. Her eyes widened, and he knew that she was remembering the same moment.

“The summers that I spent here were wonderful,” she said. “They were the best times of my life, and I want to do it all again. That's one of the reasons I'm here now.”

He realized that it was the best time of his childhood, too, mostly due to Mari.

Whenever they were together, he could be himself. He'd share his dreams of leaving Hawk's Lake and making a name for himself in the business world, and Mari wouldn't laugh, like his sister or brother would.

“You can do it, Bri,” she'd always said. “I know you can.”

Talking with Mari fed his soul, and he'd feel like he was on top of the world.

His adventures with Mari fed his spirit. Along with their endless pirate scenarios, they solved imaginary mysteries, caught enough bad guys to fill two prisons and saved the lives of many innocents.

And just before Mari went back to Boston for good, he'd lost his heart to her.

The thought of saying goodbye hurt too much—so he didn't. He took the easy way out and accepted a job at a sleep-away camp in a nearby town, where he spent the remainder of the summer.

It had been a long time since he'd gone swimming in the lake, or taken a boat ride just for the fun of it. He hadn't fished or waterskied in years. Why not? The lake was just yards from the front yard of Hawk's Roost, his family's camp up the lake. He didn't even have time for golf, and his town house was on the second fairway of a golf course. His life was his work, and had been for quite some time.

But Mari's excitement was contagious, and suddenly he felt the urge to rediscover the fun of all those things with her, and more.

“It's a little cold right now for swimming, but it'll be okay in a month or so,” he said. “In the mean
time, we could hike, go on a few picnics. I could find us a couple of bikes, and—”

She laid a hand on his arm. “You don't understand.”

“What don't I understand?”

Mari sighed. “I'm sorry, Brian. I'd love to do all those things and more. But I came to Hawk's Lake because I was going through a rough patch and needed to get away from everything—my job, Boston and men in general.” She paused and gave him a weak smile. “I hope you understand, but I need to figure out my life and make some decisions. And I can't afford any distractions.”

Brian's smile faded. “I get it. You want me to leave you alone.”

M
ari flushed and realized she'd totally bungled her explanation.

Brian wanted to re-create the fun times of her childhood for her, and she was being an ungrateful jerk.

He looked down at her as if she'd just slapped him. In a way, she had.

“It's not you,” she added quickly. “And it's not that I wouldn't like to see more of you and catch up, but…”

She faltered. He didn't need to know all this. Besides, she didn't know what more to say without
sounding presumptive. He wasn't asking her out on a date, he was just being nice.

 

Brian yanked off his sweatshirt, and she caught a glimpse of his muscled stomach before he tugged down a bright blue T-shirt. She cast her eyes to the lake to avoid looking at him.

“I understand.” He waved away any further explanation and began climbing the ladder. “But trust me, Mari. A couple of weeks alone out here, and you'll be screaming for company.”

 

Brian found the offending shutter. The eye of the hook-and-eye catch was missing, the part that held it to the house. In the winter, the shutters could be hooked together over the windows to block out snow and wind. There was nothing he could do right now other than nail the shutter to the house, and there was no way he was going to do that. Or he could tap out the hinges, if he had the tools.

But he didn't, so Mari would just have to live with the shutter whacking against the house until he could get the part.

A big chunk of him was ticked. Here he was, trying to make her return to Hawk's Lake as perfect and as convenient as possible, and she was basically telling him to hit the road.

Well, that was an exaggeration. She'd come here on vacation, and for some fun, not to support
his
sudden zest for activity.

Brian climbed down the ladder and put his tools away, ready to head back to his office in the village.

If she wanted to be alone, that was her prerogative, but he was still disappointed.

He fired up his Mustang, and was just about to back up when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw the lift on the side of the van lowering to the ground. Mari stood on it, holding a red dolly with what he assumed was her pottery wheel balanced precariously on it.

She was going to hurt herself. He turned off his car and hurried toward the van. “Why didn't you yell for me?”

“I didn't want to bother you, and I thought I could do it myself. But it's a little awkward.”

“It's not balanced.” He took the handle of the dolly from her.

“I can do it—”

“Alone,” he finished. “Yes, I know.” He yanked on the strap of the belt to tighten it more. “But I want to help you.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but
shook her head and started walking ahead of him, dodging puddles as she crossed the road and headed to the side door.

With her pottery wheel in tow, Brian walked behind her, trying to ignore the sway of her hips as she walked and the tug of her jeans across her backside. The woman was tying him in knots, making him crazy. And she'd
just arrived.

As soon as he could get away from her, he'd go back to his office and regroup. He was handling everything badly today.

As he pulled the dolly up the steps and onto the side porch, he saw that Mari had laid down clear, thick plastic and a big striped rug. There were neatly stacked bags containing different shades of clay, along with an aluminum bucket overflowing with sponges and what were probably pottery tools.

“I'll make sure that I contain the mess,” she said.

He set her wheel down in the middle of the room where she pointed.

“So, what does it take to be a potter?” he asked.

Her face changed. The worry lines on her forehead faded, and her mouth dissolved into a smile. She became animated, alive.

“It takes imagination to find what's hiding inside a lump of clay and bring it out. Then once I do, I
can shape and glaze the piece and fire it and make it my own. There's nothing like it in the world.”

He couldn't help being mesmerized by the dreamy expression on her face. All too soon, she noticed him looking at her. The glow disappeared and a stiff, self-conscious smile took its place.

“Can we unload my kiln now?” she said, averting her eyes.

It seemed like it pained her to ask him for help. He was just about to touch the small of her back, just to escort her back to the van, but she moved away. He'd meant it only as friendly gesture, and never expected that kind of response. Why was she so jumpy?

As they walked to the van in silence, he made sure to leave an ample amount of space between them.

Once there, he tied the kiln securely onto the dolly. It was smaller than he'd expected, and much lighter. He rolled it into the boathouse, set it in place where Mari directed and plugged it in for her.

“You're all set. I'll pick up the part I need for the shutter, and be back to fix it in a couple of days.”

“Thanks, Brian. I'd appreciate it.”

As he drove back to his town house, he wondered who had hurt Mari so much that she was determined to sequester herself in the woods.

 

Mari watched as Brian drove down the muddy road and disappeared from sight.

Maybe now she could relax.

She couldn't help but feel that the accountant in him didn't miss a thing. It was as if he'd totaled everything up and found her lacking.

Well, what did he expect? She was no longer the girl who gathered wildflowers in the meadow, or who rode her bike down Sunrise Hill with her hands and feet in the air.

She was president of Sherwood Enterprises, Inc., a major corporation. She had duties and responsibilities that few could imagine. The livelihoods of over three thousand people depended on her business acumen and insight. And she was the last in a long line of men and women—mostly women—who had built Sherwood from a one-woman pottery business to the powerhouse that it was today.

Yes, she was in Hawk's Lake to find herself, but she didn't need Brian Hawkins to remind her of those heavenly, happy-go-lucky days. Nor did she want to be attracted to him, or feel his touch, even if it was simply a friendly gesture.

She was vulnerable right now, and it didn't help that she'd thought about him over the years, won
dered what he was doing, if he'd ever married or had children. Never in her wildest dreams did she think he'd turn out as handsome as he had—or that he still could make her heart do flips in her chest.

But he was the one who had crushed her young teenage heart. The one who made her extra careful of giving her heart away. And ever since, when she finally did fall for someone, it never seemed to work out.

What was wrong with her?

Mari walked into the sunporch. It felt good to have her wheel ready to go, and her kiln in the boathouse. She couldn't wait to feel what it was like to have her hands all muddy and wet, creating something from scratch.

She looked at her perfectly manicured nails and grinned. They wouldn't look so perfect tomorrow morning when she reintroduced herself to her wheel.

 

For two days, Mari was alone, and she forced herself not to think of Brian or Sherwood Enterprises. She just enjoyed working on her wheel and living in the moment.

Six pots of various sizes sat drying on a table that she'd covered loosely with newspaper. None of them were as good as they could be, yet the happy
memory of Grandma Rose teaching her was just as vivid now as it was when it was happening.

They had sat on this very porch. Gram had her arms around her. “Feel the clay, Mari dear. And when it's ready, you can pull it up. Be careful. Not too much water, or it'll flop over. There you go. Perfect! You're a natural—just like the other Sherwood women.”

Then they'd cut it off the wheel with a wire to dry. Mari couldn't wait to fire it to bisque and then paint it with various glazes. When Gram opened the kiln, it was like coming downstairs on Christmas morning and seeing the gifts all gaily wrapped under the tree—a wonderful surprise.

“It's just beautiful, Marigold,” Gram would say, studying one of her pieces. “If your great-grandmother Lily could see this, she'd be so proud.”

Lily's mother, Violet Sherwood, had started Sherwood Enterprises, originally named Sherwood Pottery, in the carriage house behind her old Victorian in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Over the years their bestselling china patterns and corresponding accessories were named after the Sherwood women: Violet, Lily, Rose and Marigold.

If Mari didn't take over the reins at Sherwood, it would be the end of the family's control of the corporation.

She couldn't let that happen. Yet the thought of managing the family business forever—not to mention the pressure—was making her miserable.

She wanted children—a bunch of them—but there was no way she wanted to bring them up the way she'd been brought up—by absentee parents. Parents who were too busy running and expanding their company to pay much attention to a lonely little girl.

Briefly, she thought of her office and closed her eyes. Here at the lake, there was no intercom. No e-mails to answer, no calls to return. No lengthy meetings to attend—nor a million other minute details to handle.

It was calm, peaceful and silent.

As if reading her mind, the phone rang, startling her. Hurrying to the kitchen, she found herself hoping it was Brian Hawkins.

“Hello?”

“Mari! It's Melanie Hawkins. Welcome back to Hawk's Lake.”

Mari sat down on one of the kitchen chairs and smiled.

“Mel!” It was wonderful to hear the voice of her childhood friend. “How are you?”

“Anxious to catch up with you. I called to invite
you over for a small party tomorrow—a birthday party—for my my son, Kyle.”

Mari hesitated for only a moment. Sure, she wanted to discover herself again and to think about her life, but she wasn't going to pass up a chance to reconnect with old friends.

“I'd love to come, Melanie.”

 

Two hours later, Mari pulled her van into a parking space in front of Clancy's grocery store.

To call Clancy's a “grocery store” was a misnomer. It was more like ten stores rolled into one. Sure, there were groceries, but where the beverage aisle ended, sporting goods started. Bait was sold in a corner by the rods and reels.

One wing housed clothes for every member of the family—another, books and yarn and crafts. Seasonal decorations took up still another area, and Mari could see decorated Christmas trees in the same space as jack-o'-lanterns and black cats. Toys for all ages took up two long aisles, pots and pans and kitchen items took up three. There were boats for sale outside on the right of the building, snowmobiles on the left. A sign over the front door proclaimed, If we don't have it, it hasn't been made yet—the perfect motto for Clancy's.

Mari reminded herself to buy some groceries, a birthday gift for Kyle and some nail polish to repair her nails. She wanted to look her best at the party.

She told herself that it wasn't because of Brian, but in her heart, she knew she was lying.

It wasn't the first time.

Strolling the aisles, she picked out several items that she needed, and even more that she didn't. Compared to Boston, it was hard to resist the prices.

As she pushed her cart past the baby clothes, she decided that she'd like to buy something for Angeline, Melanie's eight-month-old baby.

Mari handled every dress, every hair accessory and every pair of socks with lace trim. She was delighted for Melanie, who sounded so full of joy as she spoke of Angeline and Kyle.

As happy as she was for her friend, whenever Mari thought about how she might not ever have any children, a deep sadness settled inside her.

But she was afraid to take that CEO job and try to raise a family at the same time. After all, her parents hadn't been able to balance the business and their child. What made her think she'd be any different?

“Oh!” she said, finding a smocked sundress with rosebuds and a little white crocheted jacket. “This is just too cute.” Even more adorable was a bonnet,
which, when tied, would form the petals of a sunflower around Angeline's face. Mari added pink tights, soft, white shoes and a little stuffed lamb.

As she picked out some grocery items, she couldn't remember the last time she'd spent such an enjoyable time shopping. The creaky wooden floors under her sandals and the absence of people made the experience enjoyable. She covered every square inch and covered it again, just to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Just as she was checking out, a deep voice rang out.

“Hi, Mari!”

Her heart did a flip, and she scanned the store. She saw Brian at one of the checkouts.

“Hi, there.” He looked striking in a golf shirt, a blue that brought out the turquoise in his eyes and that stretched across his broad chest. He wore tan khakis that fit him perfectly. A brown leather belt cinched his waist.