Lone Star Millionaire (21 page)

To see that sparkle back where it should be had been worth eating a little crow. And Thea had only poked a little fun at him. If her cooking went down as easily as that crow, it would be a great party. “She took the job. I gave her a check and signed a contract.”

Kendra jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy. You won't regret it.”

How could he regret anything that made her call him Daddy?

“I'm sure I won't.”

She sat down and pulled her plate toward her. “Don't you just love Thea?”

Scott thought about the question and realized it was true. Not love; never again love. But he liked Thea. She was sweet, smart and sexy. Besides being all that and beautiful, too, she had an appealing sense of humor. And she was a widow. He realized that was all the 4-1-1 he had on the woman who knew so much about him.

He decided it would be a good idea to change that.

 

Several days later, Thea picked up the phone at her office desk to make a call when some movement on the sidewalk outside caught her attention. Her brain registered the fact that the strikingly good-looking man responsible was Scott Matthews. When her body got the message, her pulse and heart rate joined hands and started to boogie.

Boy, was she glad that Connie was in the back room. And
that was silly because she would bet everything she owned that Scott wasn't any kind of physical threat. Which could only mean some part of her believed he was an emotional hazard and her partner's presence could prevent a meltdown.

He pushed open the door and walked inside. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” She replaced the phone and noticed her hand was unsteady. Linking her fingers on top of her desk, she said, “To what do I owe this visit?”

Before he could respond, Connie walked into the front office. “T, I think we need to order—” She saw Scott and stopped. “Sorry. Is the dinger down? I didn't hear anyone come in.”

Thea hadn't heard the dinger, either, because she couldn't hear a smart bomb go off over the blood pounding in her ears. So she ignored her partner's question.

She held her hand out indicating the man in front of them. “Meet Scott Matthews. He's the recently contracted client I told you about. Scott, this is my partner, Connie Howard.”

Scott held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Connie said, blatantly checking him out as she shook his hand. “Thea didn't tell me you were so—”

“How's Kendra?” Thea shot her friend a warning look. “That's his daughter. She's graduating from high school and the reason he's having the party we're doing.”

“Right. The teenager.” Connie leaned against the desk without taking her eyes off him.

He looked from Thea to Connie and shuffled his feet. “Kendra's fine.”

“Connie, don't you have a cake to decorate back there?” Thea stared daggers.

The other woman stared back, then blinked and straightened. “Oh. Right. The Swanson shower. Bridal. Heart-shaped devil's food with raspberry filling. Seafoam-green icing.”

When she was gone, Scott said, “Seafoam green?”

“The color of the bridesmaid's dresses.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “How dense of me.”

“Yeah, I was going to say—” She shook her head as one corner of her mouth quirked up. Then she met his gaze. “How is Kendra
really?
”

“Not pregnant.”

“I'm so glad,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“Was the conversation that produced this good news more listening or lecturing?” she asked.

“Half and half, I'd say. Actually when I shifted into lecture gear, she admitted she'd thought she was in love with the underhanded little twerp. He told her if she loved him she'd have sex without a condom.”

“Oh, no!” Shocked, Thea put her hand over her mouth.

“Oh, yes. But after sleeping with her, he dumped my daughter and went back to his girlfriend. I'd like to clock the little weasel.”

“Can I watch?”

His mouth curved up. “Unfortunately, Kendra swore me to nonviolence.”

“Too bad.”

“No kidding.” He folded his arms over his chest. “What's worse, I think this is part of why she's dragging her feet about college. She got burned by a guy she's known practically all her life—”

“How can she trust herself with strangers?” Thea finished.

“Exactly.”

“Poor kid.”

“The silver lining is that she's never going to have sex again.”

“You don't really believe that, do you?”

He sighed. “No. But if you're the charitable sort, don't give me a reality check for a while. This is my fantasy and I'd like to enjoy it for as long as possible.”

“Okay.” Thea laughed. “But I hope you told her that a
man who really loves her wouldn't be as concerned with his own pleasure as much as protecting her.”

“Actually, no. I was putting my testosterone to better use as I visualized the three hundred ways I planned to annihilate the little creep with my bare hands.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he slid her a wry look. “Besides, I'm a little rusty in that department.”

“Oh?” Did he mean sex? It was a lie. Had to be. A man as good-looking as Scott Matthews would have to beat women off with a stick. Surely he succumbed to physical temptation.

“Yeah. Between work and raising the girls, I haven't had the time or energy to be in the loop on this whole dating thing.”

He looked charmingly sincere and her heart gave a funny little lurch at his admission. Women would fall at his feet, yet he'd channeled his energy into his children. How cool was that?

“So you're socially backward?”

“I guess you could say that.” He chuckled and the sound was self-deprecating. “File me trying to advise my daughter under the blind leading the blind.”

“Not entirely. You can clue her in on the male point of view.”

“I guess that's something. And the next time we have a heart-to-heart, I'll be sure to mention that the guy who really cares about her won't push her to do anything she's not comfortable with.”

“You might also bring to her attention that it's one way to know her knight in shining armor as opposed to the knave who's simply using her.” Thea shrugged. “It's also a way to know if that someone cares about her.”

“Excellent point,” he said. “Not only does Thea Bell toil for me. She's the guru of good sense, and I will pass that on to my offspring.”

Thea smiled at him. His compliment produced a glow that
had nothing to do with being pregnant. But it was familiar. She remembered falling in love with her husband. The ache inside when they were apart. The sheer giddiness when she saw him. The heart-pounding excitement. The anticipation of being together.

As she smiled up at Scott Matthews, her heart stuttered and her stomach fluttered. It occurred to her that this was very much like what she'd felt long ago.

But that was impossible.

Love like she'd had only happened once in a lifetime and she'd had hers.

“So what brings you here today?” she asked.

“The party. By the way, Kendra was very excited when I told her you'd be the caterer.”

“I'm glad,” she said. And she was. Until he moved closer.

Just like the last time he'd been here, he invaded her space and half sat on the corner of her desk. The pose pulled the denim tight across his leg, showcasing his muscular thigh. He folded his arms over his chest, in that oh-so-masculine way that drew attention to his above-average biceps. He was large and male and filled her personal area more than she was accustomed to it being filled. Or was it simply that he made her notice things she hadn't in a very long time?

She swallowed. “What about the party?”

“Have you had a chance to work up those figures for me on the cost yet?”

“I can't do it with any degree of accuracy because there are too many variables.”

“Like what?”

“Number of guests. Choice of menu affects the cost of food. Theme impacts the price of decorations. You don't have to have a theme, of course. Although Kendra seemed excited about that. The two of you need to discuss it.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “You mentioned that before. That day at the house.”

“Right. I did.”

If he remembered, why was he here? Until this moment the thought hadn't crossed her mind. She'd been too preoccupied with her reaction to him. He didn't have to drop by; he could have phoned to discuss this. Had he been looking for an excuse to see her face-to-face? She hoped not.

Why would he? By his own admission, he didn't have the time or energy for anything besides his work and his kids. And frankly, that was just fine with her. She was paddling the same canoe. Her work and her child-on-the-way were the focus of her world.

This was strictly business.

“Can you give me a ballpark figure?”

She thought about it. “I've done parties for a hundred dollars and some for over a thousand.”

He whistled. “Whoa.”

“It just depends. The cost of renting tables, chairs and linens is fixed, but without a number of people, it's meaningless information.”

“I see.”

“You should know that the cost of my labor is a good portion of the expense. Good caterers don't come cheap.”

“I would never infer you were cheap,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Good thing. Them's fightin' words.”

“After all, you did say if you needed the gig that badly you wouldn't be considering a bigger house and a mortgage.”

“True. And I have to tell you, your house fits my bill nicely.”

“Have you listed your condo yet?”

“Yes. I'm hoping it will sell quickly, but Joyce said it's difficult to predict. Townhomes require a buyer with different
criteria than single-family homes.” Criteria like sending the last child off to college and downsizing. “Have you listed your house yet?”

“No. Kendra's reaction sort of put the brakes on that.”

“I'm glad you're waiting. Maybe my place will sell and I can make an offer on yours.”

“You liked it that much?”

“It's perfect, exactly what I was looking for. But we digress. Back to the party.” And maybe there was another reason he was concerned about the cost. “Look, Scott, if money is a problem—”

He held up his hand. “I can afford you. But there's no harm in negotiating.”

“Depends on the terms.”

“If the cost of labor is the only variable, I say we start there.”

“But I already know how much your daughter wants me to do the party.”

“And I know how much you like my house.” He grinned.

The smile was so devastating, it made her glad she was already sitting. “Did I tip my hand?” she managed to ask.

“Big-time.”

“I didn't peg you for the wheeler-dealer type.”

“I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing.”

Her thoughts exactly.

He stared at her for several moments, and she could almost see the mental wheels turning. “How about this? I'll hold off on listing the house until there's an offer on your condo if you agree to discount your labor costs for the party?”

She thought about his suggestion. Basically, she would be trading her time for an insurance policy to have first crack at his house. Considering how much she liked the place, how perfect it would be for her needs and the fact that she knew it might get snapped up before she could sell her place, she figured it was a cheap insurance policy.

“I think you've got yourself a deal, Mr. Matthews.” She held out her hand.

He took it in his big, warm palm and gave her a firm squeeze. “Glad to hear it, Ms. Bell.”

When he released her hand, the palm tingled where he'd held it. And her cheeks felt warm. If there was a God in heaven, she wasn't blushing like a schoolgirl. For Pete's sake, his teenage daughter probably wouldn't redden like this simply because a man touched her.

She hated feeling out of her depth and less than in control. Too many things in life were uncontrollable, she'd learned. She should be able to deal with a man. But Scott Matthews wasn't like any man she'd ever met. And they'd just struck a bargain. She couldn't help thinking she'd just made a deal with the big, bad wolf. Except he'd said he wasn't and she believed him. Somehow that was so much worse.

He looked down at her. “So you're a widow.”

The big, bad wolf had just stepped out of his sheep's clothing.

S
mooth move, Matthews, he thought.

He hadn't planned to blurt that out, but starting a conversation required personal information. The fact that she was a widow was all he had. On top of that, lack of dating experience put him at a distinct disadvantage. “What's your sign?” wasn't something he said to start up a meaningful dialogue with a woman. And he found he very much wanted to do that with Thea. But he didn't want it to be about catering, kids or real-estate contracts.

He kicked himself when his thoughtless remark turned her cocoa-colored eyes dark. And sad. She'd never said how long she'd been a widow, and he felt like the world's biggest jerk.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to bring up bad memories.”

“That's all right. I've had time to deal with it.”

“How long ago did you lose your husband?”

“David died two years ago.”

At least it hadn't been two weeks ago. That made him feel marginally better. “What happened? If you don't mind my asking.”

“Actually, I don't really like to talk about it.” She stood up. “I try to keep my personal and professional life separate, Scott. You're in business. I'm sure you understand.”

“Yeah.” But he didn't really. She'd shut him down faster than a roofing crew in an electrical storm.

He also didn't understand what it was like to lose a spouse. His was alive and well somewhere—just not with him and the girls. Thea's husband was gone for good. The shadows lingering in her eyes told him she'd cared about the guy a lot. Or did she look like that because she thought Scott was trying to hit on her?

He'd told her he was out of practice. Hell, he'd never really been
in
practice. He'd been a family man when his high school buddies were perfecting their pick-up lines. He'd never had a chance to use his—“Hi, I'm Scott. How do you like me so far?” He took one look at her face and decided this wasn't the best time to take it out for a test drive. Besides, she barely knew him. She had no reason to trust him. But he wanted her to.

“Look, Thea, through a weird twist of fate, you were there for me at a very difficult time. As I recall, you said you'd never met a person who looked more like they needed to talk.”

“Yes, but—”

“I could say the same about you. You told me—and I quote—‘Talking is helpful.' I'd like to return the favor.”

She smiled, but it didn't push the clouds from her eyes. “I appreciate that, Scott. But there's really nothing to say. It's in the past. I've dealt with it. But thanks for the offer.”

“Anytime. I owe you one.”

“No. Really.” She looked at her desk calendar. “But we do
need to talk about details for your daughter's party. When is good for you?”

“Evenings are best.”

“I figured. What about tomorrow?” She looked up and met his gaze.

“That would be Friday,” he said, trying to remember if he had anything going on with the girls.

“Of course. The beginning of the weekend. You've got plans.”

He shook his head. “I don't think so. My social calendar isn't exactly filled. But sometimes Gail comes home from college for the weekend. To do laundry.”

“Not to see you?” She grinned.

The unexpected smile hit him between the eyes and jump-started his pulse. She should do that more often. It was like seeing the sun peek out from behind thick cloud cover. Not only did it chase away the lingering shadows, but it made her look so beautiful she took his breath away.

He couldn't help smiling back. “I used to think so, but I got real when I figured out she spent more time with the washer and dryer than she did telling me about her classes and friends.”

Thea laughed. “I'm sure she misses you.”

“You don't have to say that. I'm a father. I no longer have an ego. Tomorrow night is fine. Do you want me to meet you here?”

She thought for a moment. “How about if I meet you at the house? That way if your daughter is there, you don't have to leave.”

“Great.”

“I'll be there at seven, if that's okay?”

“Should be.”

Scott said his goodbyes and walked outside. He was looking forward to Friday night in a way he hadn't since he'd been a teenager with a brand-new driver's license.

Thea stood to the side of the window where she couldn't be seen and watched Scott's truck pull out of the parking lot.
When he merged into the traffic on Valencia Boulevard, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“He's quite a hunk.”

At the sound of Connie's voice, Thea whirled and splayed her hand over her chest. “You scared me.”

“You should be scared. But not because of me. Thea,” she said, tsking as she shook her head. “Tall. Dark. Blue eyes? Your description of him is as bland as unseasoned sirloin. And I repeat—be afraid, very afraid.”

“Why?”

“The man practically issued an engraved invitation and you shut him down like a lid on a grease fire.”

“Were you eavesdropping?” Thea asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Of course.” Connie didn't look the least bit repentant. “And spying.”

“So we were listening to the same conversation?”

“Yes. And drooling over the same hunk.”

“I wasn't drooling.”

Connie met her gaze. “Okay. But this time, I'm absolutely sure there's a sparkle in your eyes. And after meeting Scott, I know the reason for it.”

“Let's get back to the engraved invitation. What exactly would you be referring to? An invitation to what?” Thea asked.

“A personal relationship.” Connie sighed. “That man is the hottest thing since habanero peppers.”

“He's nice-looking,” Thea hedged.

Connie stared at her for several moments. “Nice-looking? Tom Hanks is nice-looking. Colin Farrell is darkly intense and smoldering. He's your Colin Farrell.”

“He's not my anything and I don't know who Colin Farrell is.”

“You have to get out more.”

“I get out plenty,” Thea defended.

“No. You get out for work. There's a difference.”

“How would you know? You're the married mother of two. Does your husband know about this?”

“My husband is the love of my life and the reason I'm living happily ever after. But he also knows I'm not dead. I know a good-looking guy when I see one.”

“You're so lucky, Con,” Thea said with a sigh.

Her friend sat down behind the other desk. “T, you've got to get back up on the horse. David wouldn't want you to be alone. To stop living.”

“I haven't.”

“I beg to differ. If you didn't get that Scott Matthews was hitting on you, then you're merely going through the motions.”

“If he was hitting on me, I'll eat my hat.”

“Better put lots of tenderizer on it. Maybe some marinade would help.”

“Oh, for Pete's sake, Connie—”

“I didn't say he was hitting on you
well.
Based on his history, there's a good reason for that. He doesn't have to be a smooth operator, my friend. All he has to do is stand there. He's female fantasy material of the very best kind.”

“I'm not blind. I can see that he's an exceptional-looking man. So, apparently, is this Colin Farrell person. But that doesn't mean I'm ever going to get it on with either of them.”

“Yes, but Colin Farrell wasn't in our catering office telling you if you wanted to talk he'd be happy to listen.”

“Scott was just being nice. Nosy, too. And you know how I feel about that.”

“Look, T, you said his wife is out of the picture and has been for a while. What would be the harm in giving him a little encouragement?”

“I'll tell you what would be the harm. He's been hurt and
betrayed. That made his already difficult life even harder. He's not likely to want to risk that again.”

“Is it him you're worried about? Or are you the one afraid to take a risk?” Connie asked, but her tone had gentled significantly.

“I'm not afraid. I simply don't wish to,” she answered. “Look, Con, Scott and I couldn't be more
not
on the same page. I'm pregnant and starting a family. He's looking at shooing his last little chick out of the nest. In fact, he's going to be selling his house soon because it will be too big for one person.”

“Funny,” her friend said, tapping her lip. “You're in the market for a bigger place because you're welcoming a new little chick.”

“Finally,” Thea said, throwing up her hands. “You grasp the finer points of the situation.”

“What I grasp is that you should sell him your condo so you can buy his house.” Connie grinned. “I'm so brilliant, sometimes I scare myself.”

“That's actually not a bad idea,” Thea admitted. “My town house is a great place.”

“See. So why won't you listen to me about the interpersonal relationship stuff?”

“Because nothing about it works.”

“Except for the chemistry.”

Thea wrinkled her nose. “I hated chemistry in high school. I barely passed.”

“Don't underestimate it.”

“I was wrong,” Thea said.

“About what?”

“The other day when I asked who whacked you with the whimsical stick. There's nothing droll or capricious about this conversation. Or subtle, either, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn't.”

“I have to ask who smacked you with the matchmaking stick.”

“No one. I just know a winner when I see one.”

“How do you figure?”

“You haven't dated because you're still living in the past and mourning your husband. He hasn't dated because his wife left him with two little girls to raise and he had to earn a living. You're both social geeks.” She shrugged. “A match made in heaven, if you ask me.”

“I didn't.”

Connie glanced out the window where Scott's truck had been parked minutes before. “He did. He was trying to open the door and get to know you. He doesn't know anything about you, does he?”

“Only that I'm a widow. And I'm not sure why I let that slip.”

“Because subconsciously you really like him.”

Her friend knew her too well. But this was a pointless conversation. “Like I said, we're in completely different places in our lives.”

“Don't you think you should give him the opportunity to decide that?”

“No. I'm not interested.” She ignored her friend's snort of disbelief. “Statistics favor full-term pregnancies after completing the first trimester. I'm not talking about it until I'm over the hump. By that time, Scott Matthews will be out of the picture.”

“Shame,” Connie said. “Definite sparkle,” she mumbled.

“You're impossible.”

“And you love me.”

“I do. The question is why.”

“Because I have wonderful ideas. Like Scott should buy your condo so you can buy his house.”

Thea thought about that. It made good sense.

“You're right.
Some
of your ideas are excellent. I'll mention it to him.”

 

Thea stopped her car in front of Scott's house. It was her second visit and this time she'd driven around the charming neighborhood. Parents pushed babies in strollers. Kids played outdoors on the greenbelt areas. Neighborhood Watch signs warned the bad guys to stay away or face the wrath of the 'burbs. It looked like the ideal environment to bring up her baby.

She walked up the driveway and passed Scott's truck with the Matthews and Sons sign on the side. Casually she rested her hand on the hood and noticed it was still warm.

After knocking on the front door, her heart fluttered until Scott opened it. Standing there with a tool belt in his hands, he looked tired and dirty, as if he'd just arrived home. Instead of dialing down her awareness, the look seemed to take it up a notch. There was something about a man and his tool belt that set a woman's hormones bubbling and boiling.

“H-hi.” Her voice sounded breathless and she hoped he would think it was the trek up the driveway.

“Hi. Come in.” He closed the door. “I'm sorry. I just got home. There was a shortage of manpower at one of the construction sites and I filled in.”

“A boss who's not afraid to get his hands dirty,” she observed.

“And the rest of him, too,” he said ruefully. “Look, I'm going to take a quick shower. I'll just be a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable. The girls are in the other room. Kendra will introduce you to Gail,” he finished, just before he disappeared upstairs.

On her way through the living room and dining room, Thea heard female voices and giggling. Kendra and another girl were lounging on the corner group in the family room.

“Hi,” she said, looking at both girls.

“Thea.” Kendra stood. “I didn't know you were coming over.”

“Your dad didn't tell you?”

“I've sort of been avoiding him.” She looked at the other girl. “This is my sister, Gail.”

“Nice to meet you, Thea,” she said standing.

The older sister was the same height as Kendra, but her hair was lighter and shot with gold streaks. Her big green eyes sparkled with intelligence and were frankly assessing.

“My pleasure, Gail. I've heard a lot about you. All good.” Thea winked at Kendra. “Your dad said you were happy about me doing the party.”

She grinned. “I am.”

“Good. I'm here to help you make some decisions so I can give him an estimate of expenses.”

“Great. Gail's home for the weekend.” She glanced at her sister. “She's good at the creative part.”

“Not the food,” she clarified. “But other stuff. I was on the decorating committee for my sorority. I've done a party or two.”