You Were Meant For Me Page 3

  Was that why she’d given him a totally bogus name? To keep a low profile from the media? Mitch couldn’t wrap his brain around the need for that kind of discretion. It was just one more clue to exactly how little he really knew about her.

  Her father bent over and kissed the top of her head. “You could never do a thing to reflect poorly on the company or the family.”

  An indulgent smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. “You’re biased.”

  “I’m allowed.”

  “Time to turn the steaks!” someone hollered.

  Trey disappeared to man the grill and the oppressive tension descended again.

  “So you live in Wishful?” Tess laced her hands together in her lap, tight enough the knuckles went white.

  “Yep. Born and raised. Came back after grad school. I’m an architect.” These were the identifying personal details they’d carefully avoided. All the usual get to know each other stuff they’d skipped right over.

  Her eyes brightened with interest and she shifted toward him, those tight-knit hands loosening. “Commercial or residential?”

  “Some of both.”

  “And you can actually make a career at that in a place this small?”

  Every cell in his body wanted to lean toward her, but he crossed his leg instead, slouching back in the chair and drumming restless fingers on the arm. “I work on projects all over the country. Some of that requires travel, but mostly I can design from anywhere, so I choose to do that from home. What about you? You’re part of the family business, obviously.”

  “With the exception of this project I’ve been managing in London, I’m based in Denver.”

  Tap. Tap. Tap. “This your first time in Mississippi?”

  “It is. I never had reason to come here before.”

  Tap tap. Tap tap. “I guess with your dad moving here, you’ll be here again in the future?” God, he hoped he didn’t sound as pathetic and desperate as he felt asking that question.

  “I guess we’ll have to see.”

  As they got called to dinner and Mitch held out a hand to help Tess up, he reflected that at least she hadn’t said an outright no. He could work with that.

  Chapter 3

  Somehow Tess made it through dinner without falling asleep in her plate, throwing herself at Mitch to beg his forgiveness, or otherwise saying anything that revealed their intimate association. She was calling it a win. As soon as dessert was cleared, she pushed back from the table. “This was delicious, and it was wonderful to meet all of you, but I am literally dying of jet lag right now, so I’d really like to head on to the hotel.”

  Sandy exchanged a look with Trey. “Oh, we thought you’d stay here with us.”

  Even in her state of exhaustion, Tess knew she’d offended the other woman and scrambled to find something appropriate to say that would make this better. Because she couldn’t stay here in this house, watching the two of them making googly eyes at each other. “I really appreciate the offer, but I have work I need to get to early in the morning, and I was just going to hijack Dad’s office at The Babylon rather than disturb anybody.”

  Trey shoved back his own chair. “I’ll drive you into town.”

  Mitch leaned over to grab empty dessert plates and pile them into a stack. “I can drive her. I need to head right by there on the way to my house.”

  Tess knew her role in this. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

  “No trouble,” he said easily.

  “That’s very kind of you. I’d appreciate it.”

  Nobody fought about it, and she didn’t think anybody even looked at them crossways. Which was how she found herself tucked into the front seat of Mitch’s truck as he pulled away from the curb fifteen minutes later, bracing herself for the confrontation that had been building for the last two hours. She had no idea how this was going to go. She deserved whatever anger or accusations he wanted to throw her way. She’d snuck out on him like a coward in the night, after the most profound sexual experience of her life. Because it hadn’t been just sex. It had been lovemaking. Intimacy at the purest level, and way the hell more than either of them had agreed to with their no strings fling. It had scared the shit out of her.

  “I’m so fucking happy to see you.”

  His voice was full of such unmitigated joy, she snapped her head toward him. Mitch glanced at her, and even in the waning light she could see he wasn’t angry. The relief of that bled through her, loosening the knots that had slowly been tightening in a noose around her heart since she walked out on that patio. Free of prying eyes, Tess shifted in her seat to drink him in. Her fingers itched to tunnel into that thick blond hair with just a little wave. The golden scruff of his five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw, and there were faint shadows beneath his eyes, as if he hadn’t been resting any better than she had. His broad shoulders filled out the Oxford cloth shirt, and the muscles in his forearms stood out in stark relief against his rolled-up sleeves as he gripped the steering wheel. Even with the signs of strain, just looking at him had pleasure and joy coursing through her.

  “I’m happy to see you, too. Surprised, but happy.”

  Mitch snorted a laugh and a dimple winked in his cheek, making her heart flip. God, she’d missed that dimple. “I don’t think surprised even begins to cover it. So maybe we can start with some of the essentials we avoided in Scotland. You’re Tess Peyton. Not Anna.”

  “Teresa Anne, actually. My mother’s middle name is Anna.”

  “I get the no last name thing. But why give me a different first name?”

  Tess blew out a breath. “Nothing about that week was something Tess Peyton could or would do. Because, as I said, all of my actions prospectively reflect back on the company. I wanted the chance to be someone else, who didn’t have the burden of all those expectations. I wanted someone to look at me as me first and not Tess Peyton at all. And at the time, I didn’t think it would matter because I hadn’t planned on more than one night. And then…”

  “The best laid plans,” he murmured.

  “Oh, I’m sure Robert Burns is having a grand laugh at my expense from beyond the grave. Because I plan everything. I’m always, always in control.” She liked the comfort of routine and predictability. Preferred to know exactly what was happening when. It didn’t take a therapist to point out that was a defense mechanism she’d developed as a kid, when her parents had divorced and she’d had no control.

  “Except not with me.”

  “Not with you,” she agreed. “And that was…freeing.” Tess hadn’t expected that, and maybe it had contributed to her willingness to extend that time out of time. Or maybe it had simply been the man himself.

  “So is that what we were? A vacation from your real life?” His tone was neutral, casual.

  What did he want her to say?

  “That’s how it started, yes. But I need you to know, Mitch—I may have omitted a million details, but my name is the only thing I outright lied to you about. I could see you wondering about that all through dinner. You met me. Not the businesswoman. Not the billionaire’s daughter. Not whatever other lens people usually see me through. None of it was an act.”

  Unable to read his expression, Tess shifted toward him, giving in to the urge to touch him and laying a hand on his thigh. The muscles were tense, belying his easy manner.

  “You disappeared on me.” There was no anger in his tone, though she knew she deserved that.

  Swallowing against a knot of tears, she tried to find the words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t face saying goodbye to you.”

  After another long moment, his hand dropped to cover hers, and the relief of that touch almost had the tears spilling over.

  “I didn’t want to say goodbye either.”

  Everything in her wanted to unbuckle her seatbelt and snuggle up to him. But there were too many unanswered questions, too much reality between them for more than this small connection. Still, she turned her hand to curl her fingers around his,
basking in the warmth of his palm against hers and that soothing sense of the familiar.

  He slid away as soon as they reached the hotel, and she instantly regretted the loss of his touch. Grabbing her bags out of the backseat, he ushered her inside. It was the first time Tess had been to The Babylon. The boutique hotel and spa had been a pet project of her father’s, one she now knew he’d invested in as a reason to be near Sandy. But it hadn’t been purely personal. She’d seen the financials on the place. It had proved to be a good business decision.

  The lobby was elegantly appointed, with what felt like acres of Italian marble and a grand staircase of Cocobolo rosewood climbing to the second story. She’d seen the plans, knew there was a ballroom a little ways down the hall. The bar and dining room were at the front of the hotel, facing the expanse of the town green. Further down the block were the spa and conference facilities, but this central portion of the hotel housed two floors of high end guest rooms above the public spaces.

  The woman in the navy blazer behind the front desk offered her a friendly, professional smile. “Welcome to The Babylon. How can I help you?”

  “Reservation for Tess Peyton.”

  The desk clerk snapped to attention like a soldier at inspection. “Yes, ma’am. Miss Peyton. We have you in the penthouse suite.” Her hands moved with brisk efficiency, preparing the key card. “Do you need anything? Room service? Would you like to book any spa treatments?”

  A massage probably wouldn’t hurt, but she’d look into that tomorrow.

  “No, thank you. I’m good for now.” Tess accepted the key and turned to Mitch, intending to make their awkward goodbye. But he was already heading toward the elevator. She hurried to catch up. “What are you doing?”

  “Carrying your luggage.”

  “I can do that myself.”

  He spared her an amused glance. “A gentleman doesn’t allow a lady to wrestle with her own luggage. Especially not when she’s turned her ankle.”

  The ache had faded to almost nothing during dinner. She’d forgotten.

  In the elevator car, she stood in the opposite corner, well aware of the security cameras. There’d be more in the hall. She didn’t know how often or even if her father reviewed them, but she wasn’t taking any chances at generating questions she didn’t want to answer. She wasn’t sure what Mitch had in mind, but she knew what was likely to happen if he followed her into her room and into the first true privacy they’d had. She’d wanted him from the moment they’d met in Scotland. That had only intensified in their weeks apart. Part of her wanted to give in to that desire. To kick the door shut and revel in this chance meeting.

  But how foolish would that be? Walking away from him the first time had nearly done her in. Being with him again would only deepen what they’d already started and make their inevitable parting that much worse. His life was here. Hers was in Denver. And even if neither of those things were true, they had the complication of their new family connection. As long as her father and Sandy stayed together—and she had no reason to believe that wouldn’t be permanent—Mitch was going to be in her life. Picking back up with an affair that could go nowhere would just make that all kinds of awkward in the future.

  Saying nothing, she slid the keycard into the door and pushed it open.

  Mitch followed her inside, setting down the suitcase and briefcase before turning toward her. His eyes searched her face, and she wondered what he was looking for, what he saw.

  “I should go. You need to get some rest.”

  Apparently he saw the jet lag. Well, that did wonders for her ego.

  His lips curved. “You’re so transparent when you’re tired.” And at last, at long last, he stepped into her, lifting a hand to her cheek. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to stay.”

  She didn’t wrap around him the way she wanted, but she couldn’t stop herself from turning into the touch. “That would be really complicated and probably a bad idea.”

  His eyes dilated as he looked down at her, and she knew he was thinking about all the delicious, glorious ways they could enjoy that bad idea. As erotic memories bombarded her brain, Tess’s resolve began to weaken.

  Mitch stroked his thumb across her cheek, lighting little fires along her skin. “We’re both back in the real world. Tess Peyton’s world.”

  That wasn’t nearly the splash of cold water it needed to be. “Yeah.”

  “So I’m gonna go.” After another long moment, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Get some sleep, baby.”

  Her fingers curled into her palms to keep from grabbing onto him as he stepped away. “Thanks for your help with my bags and the ride.”

  “Anytime. Goodnight, Tess.”

  “See you around, Mitch.”

  Another flash of smile and he was gone, leaving her alone with her exhaustion and regrets.

  With every step away from Tess, Mitch’s body tightened in resistance. All the way down the elevator and through the lobby, he wanted to go back to her, to wrap her in his arms and pretend the last weeks hadn’t happened. But they were back in the real world. And hers wasn’t the only one with complications. This was his hometown and he was under no illusion that if he stayed longer than a few minutes in her hotel room, it wouldn’t get back to his family. And her father.

  “Mitch Campbell!”

  The hail had him turning toward one of the benches that had been added to Main Street as part of the facelift Norah had orchestrated downtown. A pair of familiar blue-haired ladies beamed at him. Manners dictated he walk over and speak instead of bolting like a jackrabbit.

  “Evening Miss Betty, Miss Delia. Where’s y’all’s third Musketeer?” It was rare to have a Casserole Patrol sighting without all three of them in attendance.

  On a huff, Miss Delia Watson crossed her arms over the massive handbag in her lap. “She’s off for a date night with Chester. Again.”

  “We’re feeling a mite neglected, to tell you the truth,” Miss Betty admitted.

  Mitch tucked his tongue in cheek. “Y’all haven’t asked if Chester’s got a couple of buddies?”

  “Sonny, that ain’t so easy at eighty as it was at your age,” Miss Delia announced. “Besides, they aren’t on the kind of date night you bring company to, if you take my meaning.”

  He nearly choked. He could’ve gone the rest of his life without that kind of visual in his brain. “Fair enough. So what are you two ladies up to this fine evening?”

  “We just finished dinner at Speakeasy and thought we’d take a little mosey around the green before heading home.” Miss Betty batted her lashes. “Be a dear and walk us to our car?”

  Well knowing his job here, Mitch resigned himself to interacting a while longer. If there was one activity the members of the Casserole Patrol enjoyed more than ogling young men, it was flirting with them. With a gallant sweep, he offered his arms to them both. On a delighted little giggle, they rose and tucked their tiny hands at his elbows.

  “Which way?”

  Miss Delia patted his arm. “We’re parked around past the bakery.”

  They began to stroll.

  Miss Betty tipped her face up, her sharp eyes gleaming. “Who was that lovely young lady you escorted into the hotel there?”

  Proof positive that he’d done the right thing in walking away tonight. “Trey’s daughter is in town for the week. She just got in from London this afternoon.”

  “London! My, that’s exciting.”

  “I expect it is. We had a big family dinner to welcome her to town.”

  “Pretty girl,” Miss Delia observed.

  “Yes ma’am, she is.” It was pointless to deny.

  The silence stretched out, both of them obviously waiting for more. Mitch kept his mouth shut.

  “Is she single?” Miss Betty prodded.

  No, she’s damned well not. She’s mine. But no matter how he felt, that was no certainty. Either way, he wasn’t about to give voice to the notion in front of these two. “It didn’t come up at dinner.” />
  Miss Delia tsked. “Falling down on your game, son. Time was you’d have had that detail inside five minutes of conversation.”

  She wasn’t wrong, but Mitch had to repress a sigh. He knew he’d earned his reputation as a woman-loving flirt over most of his adult life, but it was starting to piss him off. Was it so hard to believe he could grow to want other things? And, okay, maybe it wasn’t so much growth as a sudden realization that with the right woman, the whole prospect of marriage and family felt like the best kind of adventure instead of a prison.

  Not that it mattered. “She’s family now.” He needed to remember that.

  Miss Betty waved a hand. “Pish posh. No blood ties there. Lord knows the dating pool in this town is shallow at any age.”

  “Are you determined to pair off everybody who comes to town?”

  “Well why not? Then Norah would have a whole new angle to play up for the tourists. We could be the Southern city of love.”

  Amused despite himself, Mitch decided to throw Norah to the gossip wolves in granny’s clothes in hopes of getting the attention off him. “I’m sure she’d love to hear about that idea. You should let her know.”

  “I just might do that.”

  The two of them debated how to present it on the last block of their walk, and Mitch made all the appropriate encouraging noises. It kept them off his back and off the topic of his love life. Still, he was beyond grateful to spot Miss Delia’s big, white Cadillac.

  “Here we are, ladies. Safe and sound.” Because he knew it would please them, he stooped to brush a kiss to each papery cheek. They giggled and patted his arms.

  “You’re a good boy, Mitch Campbell.”

  He waited until they were ensconced in the monster of a car and had safely backed out of the parking space before turning to cut across the green back to his own truck.

  Disaster averted. For now.

  But he couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d said. He and Tess weren’t family. Yeah, it was complicated. There were a whole lot of negative “if it doesn’t work out” scenarios that would end in an awkwardness that would impact everybody. But what if they did work out? What if everything they’d felt in Scotland—away from all the bullshit and pretense that usually took months to peel away in the course of normal dating—what if that was as real as it got?