Bachelor's Special (12 page)

She rubbed her fingertips over the smooth velvet. She’d never received a gift in a velvet box from a man. Especially a man who was her boss turned friend. Her heart danced in a crazy rhythm at the idea he’d taken the time to buy her something. At least she hoped he’d taken the extra effort and hadn’t asked his secretary to choose it. They shared their smiles.

“Yes, I picked it out. Personally.”

She broke their gaze and lifted the lid of the box. Drat the man for using his psychic powers again.

A gasp escaped as she fingered a string of dazzling white pearls. They were perfect. Against the red backsplash of velvet, they gleamed up at her like boulders of wisdom. She choked back the truth of her feelings. If the next few weeks didn’t fly by, she could be in big trouble. Chet rambled on about something, but she couldn’t hear him very well over the rush of blood filling her ears.

“…and I know every fifties lady owned a set of pearls. I noticed you didn’t, so in order to say thanks for helping me out with the dinners and just being…well, being you, I wanted you to have these. And I also want you to take it as a bribe not to leave. Please stay, Jill.”

Her throat tightened and she blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. Not a time to turn girly and cry. She was amazed at his thoughtfulness. Even after he’d been nearly duped by Gina, he hadn’t let it twist his outlook too much. Okay, he wasn’t interested in any type of commitment, but he had a heart of gold. He was giving, caring, and… Well, he was wonderful. The perfect man.

She swallowed. Hard.
The perfect man?
Yep. He might be the perfect man in theory, but
her
perfect man wanted the same things in life she did.

And Chet Castle didn’t.

Chapter Fourteen

No time to go soft in the head
.

Jill stood in front of her bedroom mirror. She turned from side to side, grabbed a bright red flower hair clip from her dresser, and clipped it into the thick headband holding her hair back. The final touch.

Perfect. The red picked up the color of the bow on her vintage sailor shirt and the accent buttons running the length of her navy blue shorts, three round buttons on each side.

She blew out a breath, her bangs fluttering with her effort.

Sunday morning, the day she’d meet Chet’s family. For the fourth time in the same amount of minutes she ran the brush down her hair. Nervous thrums pulsed against her ribs. She felt trapped, inadequate, and unable to function. Or breathe, for that matter.

If nothing else, her experience with Chet taught her two things: she didn’t think well under pressure and she possessed a faulty nervous system.

Sure, she wasn’t the most outgoing person in social situations, probably the main reason she and Mel got along so well, but she wasn’t one to feel unsure of herself, either. Ever since coming into contact with Chet, her confidence level had plummeted. First, the fear of dining with his well-educated business associates, and now his family.

She pinched the inside of her wrist.

Focus. Pull yourself together. You’re smart, funny, and able to hold an intelligent conversation. At least you used to be. Ugh!

The clock struck eight. Still early. She could change her clothes again, her hairstyle. Hell, maybe she could make a quick trip into town and visit Melba’s Vintage Closet and find a cute nautical sundress to go with the theme for today instead of her sailor shorts and shirt.

Not only was she meeting Chet’s family, but it would be on a boat no less. She tossed her hairbrush onto her dresser and pulled the large flower clip from her headband. She replaced it with a smaller one, same color.

She’d never been on a boat before. How would she handle the mixture of making conversation with Chet’s family and eating while cruising the high seas? She had no idea if she had sea legs, let alone a sea stomach.

A light tap on her door pulled her out of fret-mode.

“Jill, are you ready?”

She opened the door. Chet’s light musky scent wafted around her, calming her ragged nerves. “I thought we didn’t need to be there until ten?”

He thrust a hot pink travel mug in her hand and the smell of peppermint tea tickled her nostrils. The guy never ceased to impress. He remembered she preferred tea to coffee in the mornings.

Chet swallowed hard. His lips parted as if to say something, and then he cleared his throat. “You look spectacular.”

Her whole body blushed as he looked her over from head to toe in the most heated and sensual of inspections.

“Um…thank you.”
Damn it, there was that sexy, breathy voice again.

“We should leave now. It’s a good ninety-minute drive to the lakeshore and I need to fill up on the way.”

Did the man never have a bad day? His hair looked perfect even though it was still damp from his recent shower. He wore a loose-fitting tee that didn’t hide the fact that his arms and chest were corded with muscle. His black shorts accentuated his dark, tanned legs, and even the well-worn flip-flops on his feet looked sexy.

Chet was the type of guy who could make socks with sandals drool-worthy.

“Come on, if we stand in your doorway all day, we’ll miss lunch.”

“Oh.”

“And I for one am dying to see what my mom’s decided on this Sunday.” He chuckled, and the tension clinging to her posture floated away.

The pressure of Chet’s palm at the small of her back guided her down the hall, the heat of his touch another comfort against her ever-present nerves.

“Your mom is cooking something special?”

His laughter filled the air around them, the rich sound releasing goose bumps along her skin. “My dad didn’t marry my mom for her abilities in the kitchen, but she’s the queen of takeout.”

“Oh.” Jeez, her word of the day wouldn’t impress a fly. “She’s not a cook?”

Duh, he just said that.

The slight tilt of his head and drawn brows made her wonder if he’d thought the same thing. He shrugged, then smiled. “Hardly. They met in college. Mom didn’t find her way to dad’s heart through his stomach, but with her brain. They were on the Dean’s list together.”

Great, meet the brainiacs. They’d probably be able to tell right away she wagered an internal battle against attraction to their oldest son.

They stepped into the garage. He opened the door to his silver sports car and helped her in. Thankful for the reprieve to gather her senses, Jill focused on Chet’s shoulder, not daring to meet his gaze.

“Are they psychic, too?” Jill couldn’t resist. She needed to know in advance if she were doomed.

He laughed, and the sincere sound worked magic. Her tense, bunched muscles eased.

“Mothers always seem to have psychic abilities. At least when it concerns their kids.”

“Oh.” If only she could think of something to say besides that one word.

Chet rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine. She leaned back, buckling her seatbelt as he shifted into drive, gunning the gas of the powerful engine, then roaring down the driveway.

“Did you tell your family about our agreement?” Muscles pinched along her back once more and she shifted in her seat. This had become not just nerve wracking but nerve damaging.

“I told them you’re in the beginning stages of starting your business. You’re working as my live-in chef while I get the fund-raising efforts out of the way, and in return I’m helping you build your rep.”

“Good.”

Once they hit the main road, Chet increased their speed and her head fell back against the soft leather headrest. His firm fingers held the steering wheel with a relaxed but sure grip.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go. They don’t need to meet me. I’m just the cook—and I’m not even cooking today.”

“For someone so confident in the kitchen, it sure doesn’t carry over to your social life. You’ll be fine. They’ll love you.” He gave her a smile before turning his attention back to the road.

“Think so?”

“I’m almost afraid how much.”

“Oh.” Whatever he meant by that, she didn’t want to know.

“Plus, Mom specifically asked you be there. Collette’s been raving about your cooking and the fact she plans to hire you for an event. I don’t think my mom likes that she met you first.” His even tone sounded bored.

A ball of hysteria filled her. To meet his family and have them like her meant more to her than she imagined. Yes, she was sitting in the car, riding the open road with a man she not only desired and couldn’t get out of her mind, but one who invaded her thoughts so often and with such force she wasn’t sure how it happened.

Jill pinched the inside of her wrist. She needed the distraction of conversation in order to stop her mind from whirling.

“Tell me more about your family. I know about Jared, but what about your mother and father?” Impressed by her own calm voice, she prepared to concentrate on his soothing tone.

The soft sound of his chuckle sent prickles of awareness over her flesh. “You’re full of questions today.”

They shared a smile and she relaxed into the leather seat.

His fingers glided across the steering wheel as he turned the car onto the highway. Memories of him touching her skin with those same sure hands sent shivers down her back.

“Let’s see. Mom grew up traveling the country, competing in pageants. The money she earned with her wins helped put her through college. Dad’s family had the business and that was all he knew growing up. Most people can’t get over how much Jared and I look like Dad. They claim he cloned us.”

“I’m curious to meet him then because, like I said before, I can definitely see the similarities between you and Jared.”
But you’re way better looking.
She tried to wet her dry lips with her even drier tongue. Great, the brainiacs weren’t only smart, they were beautiful, too. Was his whole family overachievers? Next to them, what would she have to talk about that would be interesting? Cooking, her struggles of working her way through school, the trouble keeping a job, her dad walking out on her mom when Jill was only twelve? Yeah, she’d sound like a real prize then. They’d run her off for sure once they knew her history.

“What about your family? Brothers, sisters?” Chet downshifted, slowing before pulling out from behind another car, then shifting again to race past.

“Only child. My mom raised me. She lives here only a few months a year.”

He quirked a brow in question.

“The rest of the year she’s in Florida with her boyfriend.”

“Snowbird?”

Jill chuckled. “Sort of. They come up two or three months out of the year, but it isn’t always in the summer. Ed—my mom’s boyfriend—likes to visit his kids during that time, and then I visit with Mom.”

“Do you miss having her around?”

“I’m used to it. They’ve been together for about nine years, and dual living since I went away to college. We’re still close. E-mails, occasional phone calls, and all that other stuff moms expect.” Jill blew into the opening of her travel mug, even though the liquid had already cooled to a drinkable temperature. She hid her frayed insides better than she expected.

“And before I forget, Jared and Mel will be at brunch, too.”

Thank God! Someone she could relate to. She sank back into the seat with a sigh.

Today would be the longest day of her life. Not that she harbored any grandiose plans of being in Chet’s life any more than the few weeks remaining, but she wanted Chet’s family to like her. Really like her.

“Lorna. Call me Lorna.” Chet’s mother took Jill’s hand and leaned back, taking her in from head to toe.

Bright sunlight filtered off the high-gloss finish of the boat’s deck and Jill blinked several times until her eyes adjusted to the glare.
Boat, ha!
When Chet mentioned they’d lunch on his boat, she’d pictured a homey vessel with a small deck and canopy on an upper level, complete with steering wheel. This so-called
boat
would better be addressed as a yacht, complete with crew.

“Patrick, isn’t she lovely?” Lorna turned to her husband, her face beaming with pleasure. “I just adore the fifties style. You wear it perfectly. Right down to your bobbed bangs and bright red lipstick. Red is definitely your color. You look like a true pin-up girl.”

Even though the spotlight shifted all eyes to Jill, she finally felt relaxed enough to smile. This wasn’t so bad. She could do this. So far everyone had been normal and funny, inviting her into conversations and family jokes. “Thanks.”

“You could almost be a twin to that famous pin-up girl.” She tapped her finger to her bottom lip, then turned to her husband once again. “Honey, who was that pin-up girl from the fifties, the one Uncle Leon obsessed over. Bettie…Bettie—”

“Page, dear. Bettie Page.” Chet’s father directed an indulgent smile toward his wife.

“That’s her. But you’re far prettier, Jill.”

Heat touched Jill’s cheeks. “Thank you. I’m actually a big fan of hers. She was an interesting person, inspiring for women of her time.”

“Well, you certainly have the look down.” It seemed Lorna truly respected Jill’s efforts in the way she dressed. The Castles really were regular people.

Patrick chuckled. “Lorna, leave the poor girl alone.”

Chet had been right in his comment about cloning. The three men—Chet, Jared, and their father—all stood the same height, with the same stance and coloring. Eerie how similar they were. Her concentration, though, stayed glued to Chet. Something special emanated off him. Man, he’d cornered the market on handsome.

Lorna smiled at Patrick, and Mel gazed toward Jared with the same emotions. The only difference being they could do it openly, whereas Jill needed to keep her ogling hidden.

Patrick steered everyone to the open-aired oblong table, and they all pulled up chairs, except for Jared and Mel, who stood off to the side, sipping umbrella-laden drinks.

Jill tilted her head back, letting the sun kiss her face and the breeze caress her skin. Heaven.

Lorna scooted her chair closer to Jill. “I’m so glad to finally get the chance to meet you.”

“Watch out, Jill,” Jared teased.

The warning stalled Jill’s heart, jerking her out of her relaxed state.

“I can see my mother is already scheming.” Jared smiled as he pulled Mel to his side, squeezing her in a quick hug.

Jill’s face flamed. She met Chet’s gaze and delivered her half of their special smile, but he didn’t return it. His eyes narrowed before he turned away. The heat scorching her skin fell away to be replaced by a chill, one that invaded her entire body.

First Mel and Jared played matchmaker. Now the obvious attention of Chet’s mother horrified Jill. Yes, she was attracted to Chet, but damn if she wanted it shoved down her throat from all directions. They weren’t right for each other, and she wished everyone else could see the picture she and Chet did.

No wonder Chet feared how much his family might like her. The mission to marry him off became clearer than the bright blue sky. Jill’s stomach squirmed. Awkward with a capital A.

“I’m going to head down below and grab the rest of what we need for lunch. Patrick, will you give me a hand?” Lorna stood, holding out her hand. Patrick tucked her arm through his and they strolled across the deck.

Within minutes they were back and everyone gathered around to help set the table and fill their plates from the white cardboard containers.

Jill bit back a chuckle as her conversation with Chet about his mom’s cooking abilities resurfaced.

The captain of the boat steered through the tranquil water while they ate. Afterward, everyone moved to covered tables situated around a Jacuzzi. Mid-afternoon sun warmed the area, without overheating it. Jill sat with Chet and his parents at a table underneath a multicolored umbrella that reminded her of a Mexican sombrero. Jared and Mel relaxed off to the side in matching yellow lounge chairs, soaking up the rays.