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“Very funny,” he muttered. “We’re happier this way. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s dating someone else.”
Elyse’s calm expression shifted to one of surprise. “Oh, Jack, I’m sorry. I always thought you two would end up together. You seem so perfect for each other. I love Melanie. Like a daughter.”
“I know, Mom. But that’s not going to happen.” Jack saw his bag and quickly grabbed it. “All right. Let’s go see if we can find our ride.”
“I want you to be nice,” Elyse warned. “This man is my friend and I don’t want you criticizing him like you do some of those ball players in your column.”
Jack had done a little research on Ben McMahon. And to his dismay, Ben seemed like a stand-up guy. He’d been married for over thirty years when his wife had passed away three years ago. He’d made his money in the computer industry and he had three daughters.
They headed for the doors, but Elyse reached out and touched his arm. “Wait,” she said.
“What’s wrong? Are you nervous?” Jack asked.
“A little. But I’m excited, too.” She glanced over at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “It seems like just yesterday we were swimming together and roasting hot dogs over a campfire. It’s like my life just rushed by without me noticing.”
Jack felt a lump of emotion fill his throat. He knew how hard it had been for her. After his father had died so many years ago, she’d put every ounce of her energy into providing for the family. There had been no dates, no men, no thought of remarriage. Just a single-minded desire to give her three children everything she possibly could.
But even though she’d denied any notion of romance, Jack knew that the line between friendship and love was very hard to navigate. “You’ll be fine,” he said, reaching out to give her a hug. “Just be yourself.”
“I feel like a silly teenager,” she said. “How am I supposed to be myself?”
They headed toward the sliding door that led outside. As they walked through, a slender woman with blond hair tumbled around her face ran into him, her body slamming against his chest.
She wore a black leather jacket and skinny jeans that clung to her long legs. Her hair was styled as if she’d just run her fingers through the waves after she’d crawled out of bed and her sunglasses were perched on the top of her head.
Jack grabbed her arms as she stumbled back and his gaze meet emerald green eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Sorry,” she murmured, stepping to the right just as he stepped to the left. They went back and forth a few times before he grabbed her again.
Then, they both froze and in an instant, their eyes locked. Jack felt a strange current running through his body, the warmth of her flesh seeping through the soft leather jacket. His breathing grew shallow and his mind suddenly lost its ability to form words. She was, in a single word, stunning.
He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t come up with anything worth saying. Introducing himself seemed a bit nervy. And asking if they might find a quiet spot to be alone was totally out of the question. What should a guy do in a situation like this?
Kiss her. Every instinct in his body urged him forward, but yet Jack knew that he couldn’t do that. She was a stranger and he fancied himself a gentleman.
“I—I really need to get inside,” she said. “I’m late.”
“Oh, right,” Jack mumbled. “Sorry. I—I’ll just get out of your—”
The moment he moved, she was gone, disappearing through the sliding-glass doors. He stepped back into the terminal to look for her, but she was already lost in the crowd. Somehow, at that moment, he realized he’d just let opportunity pass him by. What was this powerful attraction, to a complete stranger? And why now, of all days?
He was thirty-one years old and happily single, although not necessarily by choice. He’d always thought that he’d know when the right woman came along. But even after six years with Melanie, the spark just wasn’t there.
And here he was, nearly bursting into flames over a stranger. He cursed beneath his breath and brushed the image of the beautiful blonde out of his head, then walked back outside.
He found his mother standing at the curb, staring at a black Mercedes sedan. The hazard lights were on, but there was no one behind the wheel. Airport security had just pulled up and was examining the car.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ben said he’d pick me up in a black Mercedes sedan,” his mother said. She glanced down the long walkway. “I wonder where he went?”
Jack rolled his suitcase over to his mother. “Watch the luggage. Don’t talk to strangers. I’ll check to see if he’s inside.”
In truth, Jack was more interested in finding the blonde, but he knew she was probably long gone. He hurried back through the doors, searching the crowd for a guy who looked like the man he’d seen on Ben McMahon’s Facebook page. But as he wove through the waiting passengers, he caught sight of a familiar face.
There she was. The goddess, standing in a spot near some uniformed chauffeurs, holding a sign made out of crumpled paper. As he approached, he searched his brain for something to say. Maybe he should just be honest.
“I’d really like to get to know you? Would you be interested in meeting me for a drink?” he murmured to himself. That seemed a little forward. “Hey, it’s you again. Sorry for getting in your way. Maybe I can buy you lunch.”
He glanced down at her sign. Maybe he should just pretend he was the person she was looking for. Jack stopped short when he saw “QUINN” scrawled across the paper in ballpoint pen.
“I’m Quinn,” he murmured. He hurried up to her, then cleared his throat. “Hey, there. I’m Quinn.”
She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “Sure you are.”
“No, I am,” he said.
“I’m here for an older woman named Elyse.”
“That’s me,” Jack said. “I mean, that’s my mom. I’m her son. She’s waiting outside. Elyse Quinn.”
She gave him a suspicious look, as if weighing the truth of his words against their previous encounter. “If this is just some come on, I really don’t have the—”
He held out his hand. “Hey, I’m not messing with you. I’m Jack Quinn, Elyse’s son.”
She took his hand, folding her fingers against his. The moment caused a tiny shock to rock his body. She had the most beautiful fingers and his mind automatically thought of what those hands might do to his body. He’d never realized that chauffeurs could be so sexy.
“I’m Mia McMahon. I’m Ben’s daughter.”
All his fantasies screeched to a halt and Jack tried to cover his stunned expression. “His daughter?” His mom had told him that Ben had three daughters, but he’d just assumed they’d be married, and living elsewhere. He searched her hand for a ring and found her fingers bare. For some reason, that made him happy.
She smiled warmly. “I’m sorry. My dad sprained his ankle playing tennis this morning. He’s hobbling around on crutches. He would have been here, but he can’t drive. So he asked me to look for your mother.”
“Well, she’s waiting outside. Let’s go,” Jack said, nodding at her.
She gave him a coy smile. “All right.” They wove their way back through the crowd and strolled out the door. But as they made their way back to the Mercedes, Mia took off at a run. The security officer was bent over the hood of the Mercedes, slipping a ticket beneath the wiper.
“No!” she cried, grabbing it and holding it out to him. “I’m here. I’m right here. We’re leaving.”
He held up his hands and shook his head. “Sorry. You can’t leave your car unattended. There’s no parking allowed here at all. You can circle and load, but no stopping to wait.”
“But I had to—”
“Nothing you say is going to make me rip up that ticket. You can mail the fine in to the address on the back.”
Mia shook her head as he walked away. “Great,” she shouted. She glanced down at the ticket. “A hundred and ninety-seven dollars? For five minutes?”
Jack walked up and took the ticket from her fingers. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. It was our fault.”
“No!” she cried, grabbing the ticket back. “Don’t be silly. It was my fault.”
“It was my mother you were picking up,” he countered.
Their gazes met again and for a long moment, Jack lost track of where he was and what he was doing. God, she was pretty. He gently took the ticket from her fingers, then cleared his throat. “Maybe we should get in the car,” he said.
“Right,” she said.
He dragged their luggage to the rear of the vehicle as Mia popped the trunk. And when he’d finished loading it, he circled back to find that his mother and Ben’s daughter had made their introductions and Elyse had taken a spot in the backseat. Jack opened the front door and slid into the luxurious interior, taking a spot next to Mia.
She glanced over her shoulder and pulled away from the curb. “Seat belt,” she whispered to him.
“Where is Ben?” his mother asked.
“He sprained his ankle playing tennis this morning.” Both Jack and Mia answered at the same time and he chuckled softly. He saw a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth and wondered what was going on inside her head.
Was she as attracted as he was? Jack hoped that her duties for the weekend didn’t end with a ride to their hotel. He was going to be alone, for the most part. It might be nice to spend some time with a beautiful woman like Mia McMahon.
MIA’S WEEK OFF HAD NOT started out the way she thought it would. She’d planned to spend the afternoon painting the spare bedroom in her small condo in the Mission District and later, joining a group of friends for dinner.
But a frantic call from her older sister had sent her racing out to the family home in Marin County to help her father get to the doctor after a fall on the tennis court. After that, she’d been tasked with the job of picking up her father’s “houseguest” from the airport.
“We’re staying at the Stafford Hotel on Union Square,” Jack explained. “It would probably be best if we checked in first and—”
Mia frowned. “The Stafford? Oh, no. Actually, you’re staying with us. My father said I was to drive you back to the house.”
“But we have a reservation,” Elyse said. “We couldn’t possibly impose.”
“Oh, it’s no imposition. We have a guest cottage. You and your—You and Jack will be very comfortable there. And you’ll have your privacy, as well. And with my father’s injury, he won’t be driving for a few days. It really would be more convenient.”
“Well, then,” Jack said, grinning. “I guess that’s settled.”
“No, it isn’t,” Elyse said.
Mia looked at Jack, then glanced at his mother in the rearview mirror. “Really, the drive back and forth is almost a half hour. Hotels in the city are ridiculously expensive. You’re our guests. And it’s absolutely no imposition,” she repeated.
“Maybe Mia is right, Mom,” Jack said. “We wouldn’t want to be any trouble. And since you decided we shouldn’t rent a car, it would save on cab fare. Besides, we are only staying two days.”
A long, uncomfortable silence descended over the interior of the Mercedes and Mia glanced again between Jack and Elyse’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for the offer,” Jack finally said. “We’d be happy to stay in your guest house.”
“Great,” Mia said. “Then it’s decided.”
Now there really was a reason to stick around home for the weekend. She wouldn’t even need an excuse. It would be the only hospitable thing to do. Mia pointed out the windshield. “We’re going to be crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. Is this your first trip to San Francisco?”
Though she’d meant the question for Elyse, Jack seemed anxious to begin a conversation. And Mia wasn’t about to object. She couldn’t deny that having the man around for a few days might be nice. And she couldn’t help but wonder how he felt about their parents’ new “relationship.”
Mia had learned about her father’s Facebook “affair” a few weeks ago, from her oldest sister, but she hadn’t had much time to think about it. In truth, she’d didn’t want to think about it.
Her mother had died three years ago after a long battle with cancer. As the youngest of three daughters and the only one living near home, she’d been there to help out, to be the caretaker and to support her father during those last days.
And after the funeral, she’d stayed with him for nearly a year, helping him cope with living alone. She made her living as a graphic designer and was able to do most of her work from home, but while she was away, she’d given up on having a life of her own. She’d ignored her friends and pushed her own grief aside to make her father’s life easier.
And now, without a second thought, Ben McMahon was ready to move on to someone new. Only she wasn’t ready for that to happen. Nor were her two older sisters. They hadn’t had enough time. A stab of guilt shot through her. Images of a grasping social-climber had filled her head ever since she’d learned of Elyse’s existence. But in all honesty, her dad’s “friend” seemed really nice. The kind of woman her mother would have liked.
She fought back a surge of tears. There were moments when she could remember her mother with such pure joy. And then, other times, the memories were so painful, they took her breath away. Mia drew a deep breath and focused her thoughts on something else. Painting. Her new project at work. Jack Quinn.
Jack Quinn? She risked a quick glance across the console, catching sight of his profile in the afternoon sun. He was impossibly attractive, the kind of handsome that took a girl’s breath away. She couldn’t deny her curiosity. After all, a guy who watched after his mother so carefully couldn’t be all bad.
As she stared at the road in front of her, she found herself cataloging his features. Dark hair that was just long enough to wave slightly and thick enough that it would feel good between her fingers. Blue eyes that seemed to see right into her soul. A mouth that curled slightly at the corners, even when he wasn’t smiling.
A tremor shook her body and she squeezed tighter on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. Maybe this was the reason he’d come here. To distract her from protecting her father. Ben McMahon was a tasty target for any single woman, young or old. He’d made millions in the tech market and now, had nowhere to spend it.
“Here we are,” she said, pulling into the driveway. She reached out the window and punched in the security code then waited until the gates slid open in front of them.
“Wow,” Jack murmured as they approached the sprawling house at the end of the tree-lined driveway. “No wonder you’ve got gates. Better to keep the riffraff out.”
By the time Mia pulled up in front of the house, her father was standing at the front door, his tall frame balanced on a pair of crutches. The moment the car stopped, Elyse hurriedly stepped out and slowly walked toward him, her hands covering her mouth. A smile broke across Ben’s face and Mia felt her breath hitch in her throat. He hadn’t smiled like that in years.
Mia’s eyes filled with tears and she shoved the door open and got out, brushing the dampness from her cheeks before anyone saw. Jack quickly followed, slamming the Mercedes door behind him as he watched the scene unfold. She joined him, leaning back against the car, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Ben McMahon, you haven’t changed a bit,” Elyse cried, her musical laugh filling the fragrant air.
“Elyse Lovett, you’ve only gotten more beautiful.”
Mia watched as Elyse hugged her father and a few seconds later, Ben led her into the house, leaving Mia to deal with Jack on her own. “Why don’t we get the bags and I’ll get you settled in the guest house,” she murmured.
They pulled the luggage out of the trunk of the Mercedes and walked around to the rear of the spacious home. Though the house didn’t qualify as an estate, it was spacious and comfortable and one of the nicest properties in Marin County. Her father’s work had made it possible for the family to live without financial worries. But according to her father, Elyse and her three children hadn’t been as lucky.
The guest cottage was located behind the house, set near the pool and the tennis court. As they walked down the path, she heard Jack chuckle softly.
“What?”
“This is your guest house?”
“Is there something wrong?”
“No. It’s just that it’s bigger than the house I grew up in.”
Mia opened the front door and stepped aside to let him pass. She watched as he took in the beautiful interior. Her mother had redecorated both houses about five years ago and Mia had helped her with her choices. The guest cottage had been her favorite and she and her mother had been very proud of how it turned out. Mia had lived in the cottage the year after her mother had died, the space reminding her of the time they’d spent choosing colors and fabrics.
“The bedrooms are back here,” she said.
But he didn’t follow her. Instead, he stood in the middle of the living room. “Let me ask you a question. How do you feel about this whole thing? This visit.”
Mia slowly turned, setting the bag down beside her. “You mean our parents?”
“Don’t you find it a little…odd?”
She sighed deeply and smiled. “Yes?” Finally, someone who understood how she felt. “It’s not that I don’t want my father to be happy. After everything that’s happened, he deserves to find some happiness. But bringing a complete stranger into our family this late in the game just seems so…unnecessary. I know he imagines himself in love with—”
