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“Perfect.”
I had a spring in my step as I went back down the stairs and hoped like hell things panned out. It had been a very long time since I had been excited about anything.
* * *
Tuesday evening, I was nervous as all get out as I drove up the long driveway to Laney Buckworth-Winston’s home. I sat in the driveway for a moment, staring at the imposing structure in front of me. Holy fuck!
I glanced down at my black t-shirt and jeans and wondered if I should have dug around my closet for something a little nicer. I might have one or two button-down shirts in there I could have worn. Damn, why hadn’t I considered that before I came here? What kind of rich woman would want to do business with a slob?
The front door opened. Candy stepped out wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and I immediately relaxed. I opened the door to my truck and climbed out.
“I bet you are ready for a cold beer.”
“Or three,” I replied as I approached her. I wasn’t sure if I should shake her hand, hug her, or pull her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her. She helped make that decision when she stepped forward and brought her lips to mine.
“Hi,” she breathed toward me with a sparkle in her beautiful blue eyes.
“Hi, yourself.”
“You ready?”
“Bring it on, sweet cheeks.”
She chuckled. “Just don’t call me Sweetarts. I will put my foot down for that one.”
I grinned as I followed her into the house. I was trying not to stare at the place, but I had never been in a house this nice before, and it was hard not to. She wound through a couple of rooms, and then I was standing on a balcony overlooking a grand patio with a garden as I had never seen before.
“Holy shit,” I murmured.
Candy giggled. “Oh, it gets even more impressive when you get down there, and it gets dark out.”
I followed her down the stairs, my eyes scanning every inch I could see. “This is amazing.”
“Yes, it is. It’s my secret paradise,” a woman said from behind us, and I turned to see Laney Buckworth-Winston standing in a long flowing skirt and a pretty floral blouse. She put her hand out. “Hi, Michael. It’s good to see you outside the tavern. Please call me Laney.”
“Laney.” I shook her hand. “It is nice to see you again, too. This place really is—”
“Magical?” she supplied, and I nodded.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“This is my favorite place on earth.” She stepped around me after handing me a locally made beer that impressed me. Somehow, I had expected her to have some imported shit or something. “Come have a seat, and we can talk for a little while before dinner is ready.”
I glanced back at the house, wondering if she had a chef cooking somewhere inside that large house. Just as I was about to turn, I noticed someone stepping out of the house with a plate in his hand. His eyes popped wide, and he paused in his step. Obviously, Evan Winston hadn’t known who the guest was tonight. Whoops.
I followed the women to a sitting area around a fire pit and sat opposite Laney and Candy. I had a feeling that keeping extra space between Candy and myself would be a good idea with her brother around.
“Candy said that you were open to the proposal. Have you thought more about it?”
“I have. I would be interested in discussing it more.” Over her shoulder, I saw Evan putting something on the grill. He turned, and our eyes locked, and I grit my teeth for a second. “Can you two excuse me for a moment?”
Before either of them could respond, I was on my feet and moving toward Evan. He set the last piece of chicken on the grill and closed the lid before turning to me.
“Bollard. You are the last person I expected to see having a meeting with my wife.”
“Winston,” I replied as I stopped two feet away, “is it a problem that I am here?”
He studied me for a moment, looked away hesitantly, and then shook his head. “No, as long as you keep club business away from here.”
