The Parent Trap

He liked her style, and her idea. “I’ll get back to you on that, okay?”

“Okay,” Jill said, pushing her hair behind one ear. “I go three times a week after Zoe goes to school.”

He nodded but didn’t reply, eating instead. Man, she was pretty, and nice, too. Very, very appealing in a lot of ways. Honestly, he kind of wanted to take her up on her offer and hang out at the gym with her. Just the thought of Jill in shorts and a T-shirt turned him on.

Whoa. Spending any personal time with Jill, especially any time that exposed her long, lean legs was a bad, bad idea, one that he was sure sounded so damn good only because he’d been without any serious female companionship for so long. A necessary evil he ruthlessly enforced to protect himself and Kristy from hurt.

He had to remember that. Though surprisingly he regretted it, Jill had to remain nothing more than his daughter’s best friend’s mother.

After a lively discussion about the girls’ school, an amusing story about Kristy’s kitty, Beau, and Jill’s advice to Brandon about the best place to have his dress shirts dry-cleaned, Zoe and Kristy popped up from their seats, grabbed their plates and hightailed it out of the dining room. Zoe, the crafty little manipulator, dimmed the dining-room lights on the way into the kitchen, leaving Jill alone with Brandon in the slightly darkened room.

Jill suppressed an amused yet wary smile and finished off her glass of wine. Before she could start the conversation back up, flowery instrumental music floated in from the stereo in the family room. Apparently the girls were setting the mood.

A shiver of anxiety shot through Jill. She deftly avoided Brandon’s hot, dark gaze, forcing herself to relax, even though sitting in a darkened room with a good-looking man she’d just met, music wafting through the air, wasn’t exactly relaxing.

She shoved that thought aside. She was in charge of her romantic destiny, no matter what kind of corny, contrived romantic situations Zoe and Kristy cooked up.

“They’re not terribly subtle, are they?” Brandon said over his wineglass, his dark eyes twinkling.

Jill shook her head. “No, they’re not,” she said.

“Next thing you know they’ll be herding us to a church to get married.”

While she liked the fact that Brandon could joke about a situation that could be construed as embarrassing and awkward, a flash of guilt shot through her. “I’m…sorry for all of this. I knew they were up to something, but I had no idea how far they’d take it.”

He put down his empty wineglass, holding up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I think it’s kind of endearing, and I have to admire the lengths they’ve gone to to make this work. They’ve really put some thought into all of this.”

Jill’s face warmed. “I’m afraid we have my daughter to thank for most of it. She’s quite determined, and I’m pretty sure she had some outside help.”

He raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

Jill sighed. “My dad spends a lot of time with Zoe, and he’s…well, he’s an inventor of sorts, and Zoe is really into the whole inventing thing.” Jill accepted that situation because of the good relationship Zoe and her grandpa had. But deep down, it bothered Jill that her daughter was so keen on following in “Wacky” Winters’s footsteps, a path that had been a burden to Jill her whole life.

“So…what?” Brandon threw her a quizzical look. “You think they’re trying to invent a mom and dad by having you and me get together?”

“Pretty much.”

Brandon laughed, a deep rich sound that made goose bumps scatter across Jill’s skin. “Well, I have to hand it to them. They’ve done an amazing job.” He hit her with a crooked grin, his eyes intent on her face, setting off a hot shiver. “If I were in the market for a romance, I’d hire them.”

Jill quickly looked at her plate, ignoring how his simple look lit fires inside her, choosing instead to focus on how much she wanted to ask Brandon why he was so obviously not in the market for a romance. But she held back. That was too personal a question to ask a man she’d just met, even if he did light up her senses and turn her dormant libido back on.

She focused instead on how she appreciated that he was being such a good sport about their scheming daughters. She sneaked a glance at him, also really liking his dark good looks, charming sense of humor and knee-weakening smile.

Before she could go very far with that thought, a loud explosion sounded from out back, rattling the silverware on the table.

Her face heating—darn her dad’s timing—Jill quickly glanced at Brandon, noting with little surprise that his dark eyes were wide with shock.

“What was that?” Brandon asked.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, casually waving a hand in the air, hoping to minimize the whole embarrassing event. “It’s just my dad…inventing in his workshop out back.”

She fiddled with her napkin, praying her dad didn’t follow his usual routine and come inside. The last thing she wanted was for Brandon to meet her eccentric father—many people reacted to his goofy looks with disbelieving laughter—although why she cared at all what Brandon thought was a mystery.

Brandon smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. “Ah, good. I thought maybe an airliner had crashed in the backyard.”

Jill let out a sigh, wishing she could appreciate his joke. “No, no, nothing as dramatic as that. Just my dad doing his thing.” The thing that had set her apart from everybody when she’d been growing up. How many times had other kids teased her because of her dad’s crazy invention antics, chanting “Wacky Winters is so weird,” over and over again? How many times had someone in town laughingly asked how Wacky was, a question that was always followed by something like “Has he blown up anything important yet?”

Right on schedule, she heard the back door open and close. “Jilly,” her dad called. “You here?”

Jill rolled her eyes. Oh, brother. Her dad knew darn well she was here, since he’d undoubtedly been in on the girls’ matchmaking plan. “Yes, Dad,” she replied, resigned to the inevitable introductions—and Brandon’s amusement. “In the dining room.”

A moment later her dad burst through the door into the dining room, his wild gray curly hair sticking out at all angles, his black horn-rimmed glasses—held together with duct tape—askew. Every inch of his six-foot-two-inch frame was covered in black soot and bits of what looked like…bright pink silly string? What in the world had he been doing this time?

He straightened his glasses and smoothed his hair, which didn’t make his kinky hair smooth at all. It just made the top flat and the bottom fluffier. “Sorry for the noise. Just wanted to let you know I’m fine.” His blue eyes caught on Brandon. “Hey, Brandon. Good to see you here.”

Jill pulled in her chin. “You two know each other?”

Brandon nodded and stood. “We met picking the girls up from their Girl Scout meetings.” He thrust out his hand, looking pleased to see her dad again, not a trace of laughter popping from his mouth. “Good to see you, Wacky.”

Her dad wiped his hand on his pants and shook Brandon’s hand. “You, too, Brandon.” He looked at Jill. “I’m not going to interrupt you two anymore, Jilly.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively, a sure sign he’d had a hand in inviting Brandon here this evening. “Gotta go clean up. Send the girls out so I can show them my latest project.” Ever since she was big enough, Zoe had been her grandpa’s assistant; she spent hours hanging out in his lab with him, working on his various projects. She’d become quite the little inventor in her own right. Jill only hoped Zoe would eventually find other interests.

With that, Jill’s dad left the dining room, a long length of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of one shoe.

Jill snorted under her breath. Really attractive, Dad.

Her cheeks fired up again. She fought the desire to drop her head into her hands and scream out her frustration and embarrassment. Not only was she sure her dad had helped the girls with their scheme, acting on his intense but futile desire to see her married again, but he’d pranced into the dining room in his full mad-scientist glory, toilet paper of all things trailing behind him.

Would he never stop embarrassing her?

She mentally noted the need to have a very frank discussion with her dad right away. She knew from experience that nothing she could say would change his wacky personality; his nickname was disgustingly appropriate. But she would darn sure give him a piece of her mind for egging the girls on in the matchmaking department.

Taking a deep breath, she reined in her spiraling emotions. She looked at Brandon, keeping her face deliberately neutral, hoping to downplay her father’s strange behavior. “Sorry about that. I was hoping there wouldn’t be any explosions tonight.”

Brandon grinned and sat back down. “Don’t be sorry. I like him. He’s an original.”

Jill relaxed a bit, loving the fact that he didn’t seem to think her dad was anything unusual. Or if he did, he was graciously keeping that unfortunate information to himself. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“So, does he live with you?” Brandon asked.

Jill cleared her throat. “Kind of. He has an apartment above his laboratory out back.” Jill hadn’t really wanted to live with her dad when she’d moved back to Elm Corners after Doug had left her. After living with her dad’s madcap ways her whole childhood, his crazy, never-know-what-to-expect lifestyle didn’t really appeal to her.

But when he’d suggested she move in to the house, announcing he wanted to live above his lab out back, she’d taken him up on the offer, needing his help with Zoe. She’d also realized that, considering she didn’t have a job when she’d moved, living with him made financial sense. And she had to admit, crazy inventions aside, he was a great grandpa, Zoe adored him and his babysitting help had been invaluable to a single working mom like Jill.

Needing to change the subject from her one-of-a-kind, exasperating dad, she asked Brandon the first question that popped into her head. “So, Brandon. What do you do?” Oh, how she hoped he was in some weird line of work that would cancel out how appealing he was in other ways.

He settled back into his chair. “Well, I was a lawyer when we lived in L.A. But I’ve dumped all that to start my own business.”

“And what kind of business are you starting?” Jill asked, truly interested. For some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, Brandon seemed like the kind of guy who would succeed in anything he did.

“I’m opening a restaurant on Main Street. Maybe you’ve seen the signs.” He leaned forward, his eyes full of undisguised excitement and pride. “It’s called The Steak Place.”

Jill’s stomach dropped. No way!

She stared at him to make sure he wasn’t goofing around. He sat there looking at her, appearing totally serious.

She pressed her lips together and shifted on her chair. Oh, she’d seen the stupid signs, all right, every time she went to work. Brandon was the person who’d taken the lease for the adjoining space right out from under her nose!

Her cheeks blazed to life. Well, hurray. It looked as if her wish had come true. His line of work was unappealing.

He was her competitor, someone who could spell disaster for not only her livelihood, but also her plans to be a successful, well-respected businesswoman.

Put simply, he was a man she wished had never come to town.

Chapter Two

“Your cheeks are all red,” Brandon said, his deep voice laced with obvious concern. “What’s wrong?”

Jill snapped her gaze to him, her face still blazing, her thoughts racing. Well, la-di-da. Looked as if she was going to be able to drop a bomb of her own. Brandon obviously had no clue that she owned the restaurant next door to his. “Has Kristy told you what I do for a living?” she asked.

He drew his eyebrows together. “Uh, well…no, I guess not.”

Jill rolled her eyes and let out an under-the-breath snort. Zoe and Kristy hadn’t let either of them in on the fact that they were business competitors of the first degree. Wait till she got her hands on Zoe!

“I own The Wildflower Grill, the other restaurant on Main Street,” she informed him.

For a moment the truth didn’t faze Brandon. Then understanding dawned in his eyes. “Oh,” he said. “So we’re…competitors.”

Jill nodded, roughly rolling the stem of her wineglass between her fingers. “Yes, competitors,” she snapped, then instantly regretted her rude tone.

“Is that a problem?” he asked, looking genuinely perplexed. “Granted, I didn’t know you owned a restaurant, but it shouldn’t be that big of a deal, should it?”

Jill looked at him, trying to figure him out. Was it possible he hadn’t known she’d wanted the space between their two businesses? Gene Hobart, the landlord, was a shrewd businessman, and not above being sleazy when it came to snagging the client who would up his profits the most. Had Gene even told Brandon that Jill was interested in the space, or that she’d specifically told Gene she wanted the space when it became available? Or that Gene had unofficially promised to come to her with a deal first?

Maybe Gene was the bad guy here, and not Brandon.

“Maybe,” she said, forcing herself to stay calm and rational.

“Why is that? Do you automatically hate other restaurant owners?” he asked, his mouth quirked into a teasing smile that would be so easy to return.

She resisted the urge, reminding herself that he could be a charmer who might like to charm her right into rolling over and going out of business, clearing the way for his business to flourish.

She let out a short, irritated breath. “For one, Mr. Clark, you chose a spot two doors from my restaurant, which certainly doesn’t bode well for my business. Secondly, I wanted to lease the vacant space between the two restaurants, and even though Gene promised me first crack, you got it instead.” She pressed her lips together and looked right at him, glaring. “Do you know how long I’d saved to be able to afford to lease that space when it became available?”

He didn’t respond right away. After a long moment of silence, he leaned forward. “Look,” he said, his eyes reflecting a serious light, “for the record, I chose the spot I did because it was the best retail location for my restaurant, which I’m sure you can confirm. You chose the same stretch of property, right on Main Street, where you’d be assured the best return on your investment. You can’t fault me for being a good businessman.

“Second, I had no idea you wanted the space next to yours. Gene offered it to me as one space, package deal, end of story.”

Jill remained silent, thinking. He’d made some good points, she’d give him that, but his presence in Elm Corners still threatened everything that was important to her careerwise. “How in the world am I supposed to do well with you right next door, literally stealing customers away?” she asked.

“No offense, Jill, but you’ve had it pretty easy as the only game in town in the way of fine dining.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her pride forcing her to omit what a rough road she’d had building her business, how difficult it had been to convince the staid population of Elm Corners to try a new restaurant. Business was more stable now, but the first year had been very, very lean, and she’d almost had to close The Grill several times. Only through sheer determination, a very understanding, devoted staff and a lot of creative advertising and promotions had she been able to draw in enough customers to stay afloat. Even now, though she was in the black, she was just barely making ends meet. It wouldn’t take much of a downturn in business to shove her back in the red. “Which is one of the reasons, I’m sure, that you chose to start a restaurant here.”

He tilted his head to the side, then nodded. “Touché. I grew up in the restaurant business, so I knew enough to do some market research before coming here, and, of course, I knew that there was only one other fine-dining establishment in Elm Corners. But that’s irrelevant.”

“Not to me,” she said under her breath, knowing as she said the words that she was being unreasonable. She also knew, however, that anything that threatened her dream of business success would push her buttons and freak her out.

“I’m sorry this is a problem for you,” he said, sounding totally sincere. “For what it’s worth, I had no idea that you were the owner of the restaurant next door.”

She looked at him, wishing he was a jerk so she could really hate him. But he wasn’t a jerk. He was a seemingly good guy who just happened to be her only competition. Deal breaker, that. They could never be friends.

She stood. “I believe you, Brandon.” Her jaw tight, she began to clear the dinner dishes.

After a long moment, he reached out and grabbed her hand as she reached for a salad bowl. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

She stilled, liking the feel of his big, warm hand on hers just a little too much. Forcing herself to pull her hand away, she replied, “I’m not mad, really, just…surprised to discover that you’re the person I’ve been cursing up and down for the last week.”

He rose and began gathering dishes. “That doesn’t sound very good.”

“It isn’t,” Jill replied truthfully. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat how worried and frustrated and irritated she was that he’d leased a space for a restaurant in Elm Corners, never mind right next door.

When they reached the kitchen, he set the dishes on the counter. “So, I guess you’re not interested in showing me around The Health Hut.” He drilled her with those beautiful dark eyes, sending a hot, thrilling chill skating up her spine.

She set her jaw, chasing off the way he could just look at her and make her want to grab him and kiss him silly. “You know, I don’t think I’d be much help. Cindy Jones runs the place. She can show you around.” The last thing Jill needed to do was actually spend time with the man who could spell disaster for her business goals.

Brandon nodded, his jaw noticeably tight. “Okay, thanks.”

Jill began to rinse and load the dinner dishes, and Brandon helped out, even going so far as to gather up the tablecloth and shake it out outside. Darn it, anyway, why did he have to be so nice, so attractive, such an all-around considerate guy?

Big deal. So he was nice. The important thing was that he wasn’t her friend or even an acquaintance, just a man her daughter had thrown Jill together with for a ridiculous reason. Now that she’d discovered who he was, she needed him gone, right now. She’d be a masochistic idiot to hang around with the owner of The Steak Place.

“You know,” she said, loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, “I think I feel a headache coming on.”

Brandon paused, a sponge in his hand. “You want me to get you some pain reliever?” He moved closer, his dark eyes full of concern. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll finish up here.”

Jill bit her lip, wishing he wasn’t so solicitous. It would be much easier to dislike him that way, and she really needed to dislike him. “Uh, no, that’s okay.” She shut the dishwasher. “But I do think we should cut the evening short.”

After a long, almost disbelieving silence, he said, “Of course. I’ll go call Kristy.” He headed out of the kitchen, leaving Jill alone, feeling like a total fool for allowing the girls to set up this dinner in the first place, although in her defense, she’d had no idea that her dinner guest was the owner of The Steak Place.

Kristy and Zoe came downstairs and whined about the evening ending so soon, especially since they hadn’t gone out to Zoe’s grandpa’s lab yet. But Jill stood firm, needing to regain the equilibrium Brandon had pushed off balance. It was enough she had to deal with him in her business life, a constant worry she could never get rid of. She sure didn’t want to have him stirring up her personal life, either, nor did she want to have to deal with her disturbing physical attraction to him.

“Thank you for dinner,” Brandon said at the front door, giving her a small, rueful smile. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jill said, deliberately ignoring his smile. “Good luck with your…business.” She forced herself to be polite.

Brandon raised his eyebrows, then his expression turned speculative. “You know, this isn’t all doom and gloom. Maybe there’s room in Elm Corners for two successful restaurants.”

“I hope so,” Jill replied sincerely, even though she doubted it. She’d struggled when she was the only restaurant game in town. Now that Brandon had arrived, who knew how she was going to survive.

They said goodbye, and Jill watched father and daughter climb into their SUV at the curb and drive away. She turned and went back into the house, rubbing her eyes, her mood darkening when Zoe was nowhere to be found on the main floor. Jill rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. Zoe was undoubtedly pouting in her room because the evening hadn’t gone as she’d planned.

Jill laughed under her breath without humor. Honestly. What did the girls expect? That she and Brandon would lay eyes on each other one minute and elope the next? Fat chance. Real life just didn’t work that way.

Especially since Zoe was manipulating her, shoving her into unwanted situations, hooking her up with a man on the sly. Worse yet, that man had turned out be Jill’s archrival, a man who could spell disaster for her restaurant.

No doubt about it. Too many things about this evening had gone all wrong.

Unfortunately, the day was going to get worse. It was time to talk to her stubborn, determined daughter and tell her that things had gone too far and to cool her eager little matchmaking jets.

For good.

“So what did you think of Mrs. Lindstrom?” Kristy asked Brandon the second he pulled away from the curb.

“I thought she was very nice,” Brandon replied, leaving out that he also thought she was downright beautiful, smart and attractive in every way and that in another life he’d love to date her. Another life being the key phrase there.

In this life she was his competition, the owner of the business he planned on leaving in the dust. Not exactly dating material.

“Just nice?” Kristy asked, her voice full of eager hope. “I think she’s really cool, and pretty, too. And she’s a really good cook, don’t you think?”

The raw, undisguised hope in his daughter’s voice broke Brandon’s heart. He knew how much Kristy missed having a mother and how appealing it must be to her to fantasize about having Zoe for a sister. But this wasn’t a game, this was real life, and feelings and emotions were at stake. He wasn’t going to let himself get sucked into Jill’s life, and vice versa, just to make his daughter’s far-fetched dreams of a perfect family come true.

Obviously it was time to set the record straight with Kristy. He hated to burst her bubble, but he had to let her know that her matchmaking was futile. “Listen, Kris,” he said, stopping at a red light, “I appreciate what you and Zoe are trying to do, but I have to ask you to stop.”

“What do you mean?” Kristy asked, her voice monotone. “We’re not trying to do anything, Dad.”

He smiled, put the car into motion again, then took a quick right turn. Kristy was a terrible liar, which he considered a good thing. “Oh, come on. I might be a little rusty in the dating department, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you and Zoe set up the whole evening to get me and Jill together.”

Kristy was silent for a long moment. “Would it be so bad if you two liked each other?” she asked, her voice very small.

Oh, man, he hated having to disappoint Kristy. But he had no other choice. She had to understand that a relationship between him and Jill was impossible for way too many reasons. Reasons that now went far beyond his desire to protect his heart.

“Not bad, honey, just not in the cards.”

“Why?”

She’d asked a good question, one he’d asked himself many times before, especially in the deep of the night when he felt so alone, so isolated, so empty that he would die for the feel of a woman in his arms once more. The answer was always the same; he simply couldn’t put himself in a position to care about a woman again. The risk was just too great, for both him and Kristy.