The Ashtons: Paige, Grant & Trace: The Highest Bidder / Savour the Seduction / Name Your Price. Laura Wright
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“The mermaid of the fountain.” He tugged her toward the massive sculpture of two mermaids nursing their babies and surrounded by a pool of sun-drenched water. “Gotta make a wish.”
He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a handful of change. “Pick a lucky one,” he told her.
She plucked a shiny penny from the group, and he took another. As they approached the gray slate steps that surrounded the pool, he dipped his head close to her.
“Andrea listens, you know. So be sure you wish for something good.”
She grinned and flipped the penny toward the water. “I know what I want.” I wish Matt would kiss me. It hit with a tiny splash.
“Wow. You sure do know what you want,” Matt noted. “I generally have to think about it for a minute.”
“This wish didn’t take any thought at all,” she said, squinting in the sun as she looked up at him. “I know exactly what I want.”
“You know what they say.”
“What do they say?”
“Be careful what you wish for.” With that, he arced his penny in a perfect curve shot.
The water rippled as his coin drifted to meet the coppery cluster at the bottom.
“What did you wish for?” she asked.
He gave her a lopsided grin that made her insides ripple just like the pool. “You tell me first,” he said.
“Doesn’t that mean my wish won’t come true?”
He considered that as they found an empty bench tucked under the branches of a gnarly shade tree, the leaves already beginning to take on the golden hue of October. “I’m not sure how strict Andrea is about revealing your wishes,” he said as they sat.
“Then I don’t want to risk it,” Paige laughed. “I really want this wish to come true.”
He crossed his long legs and draped an arm across the back of the bench. Not exactly touching her but not strictly professional, either.
“Why don’t I guess?” he suggested. “Then technically you really haven’t told me.”
She smiled, feeling coy and flirtatious. Not a sensation Paige Ashton was used to, but one that sure sent a few lovely tingles through her. “Okay. You get three guesses.”
He laughed. “Oh, there are rules, now. Hmm. Okay. Let me guess.” He studied the fountain in front of them, then said, “You wished for a flawlessly executed, well-attended, completely successful launch party for VoiceBox.”
She just stared at him. Was he that unromantic? “I don’t have to wish for that. I’ll make that happen without the help of any mermaids or wishes.”
“Touché.” He thought for a moment. “I know. You covered all your bases. You wished for happiness and a lifetime of contentment.”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to strain Andrea’s powers with anything that monumental. My wish was simple. And it was nothing I could control. Someone else has to make it happen.”
“You want all your family problems to go away.”
Oh, God. That’s what she should have wished for, she thought guiltily. He wasn’t even thinking about a kiss, and she shouldn’t have wasted her penny on something so frivolous when there were real problems in her life.
She managed to nod. “Yes, that’s it. My family.”
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
That he could do? “Not unless you want to step into a beehive of distrust, accusation, blackmail and infidelity.”
“That sounds like my family,” he said with a quick laugh. “On a much smaller scale and without the blackmail, of course.”
Something twisted in her heart at the lack of judgment in his tone. “I guess everyone has their skeletons,” she admitted.
“Yeah, in the closet. Your family has them on the front page of the business section and weekly tabloids.”
Wasn’t that the ugly truth? “Are you sure you still want to hold your event at the Winery?”
“I most certainly do,” he assured her. “And my offer of help stands. Not that I can do anything to relieve the situation other than listen and offer sympathy.”
A sigh escaped her lips when he said that. “You better watch it, Matt,” she warned. “That’s pretty sensitive talk for a tough, competitive entrepreneur like you.”
He winked at her. “Just trying to make your wish come true.”
Then kiss me.
For a dizzying second, he looked as though he might. His lips were parted, the pupils dilated against his steel-gray eyes. Then he looked back at the fountain.
“I don’t think there’s much you can do as far as my family is concerned,” she said quickly. “I’m planning to go up to Louret Vineyards tomorrow. It’s time for another visit with my half sisters and another attempt at fence mending.”
“Want some company?”
She leaned back and gave him a surprised look. “You want to go up to Louret? With me?”
“Sure. I can take a day off tomorrow, and I’d love to take a drive up there. I’ve heard Louret’s a magnificent vineyard.”
“The vineyard is breathtaking, but the family…”
“Not so breathtaking?”
She smiled at the way he tried to make her comfortable with a decidedly uncomfortable subject. “My half siblings are very, very angry at my father, as you can imagine, and, by association, at my brother and sister and cousins and me. My father virtually abandoned those children when he married my mother.”
“I’d heard that from Walker.”
“They think I’m taking his side.”
“Are you?”
She shook her head vehemently. “I told you the other night, I don’t take sides. I walk a tightrope right down the middle.”
“That’s a dangerous place, Paige,” he said, his fingers grazing her shoulders. “If you fall, you can get hurt.”
Her lips curled in a rueful smile. “I have great balance.”
“What do you hope to accomplish tomorrow?”
She shrugged, liking that his fingers had settled on her shoulder. Wanting to fold into his substantial body for a reassuring hug. “I just want to visit. To show them that, well, we’re family. We have our differences, but we should stick together.”
“What kind of differences?”
“My father’s will, for one thing.”
“Walker told me they are contesting it.”
“They might.” She picked up a leaf that had fallen on the bench and studied it. “And they have a fairly compelling reason to do that. As you’ve no doubt read in those papers and tabloids, my father’s marriage to their mother was…not legal. He never divorced his first wife.”
“Yes, I read about that.”
“We’re a mess,” she said with an apologetic laugh, flicking the leaf into the air. “Look up dysfunctional and you’ll see the Ashton Family Album in the dictionary.”
He shook his head. “Like I said, no different from other families, just on a grander scale. Maybe your visit would be more comfortable—and effective—if you have company. Less like an investigation and more like a social call. I’d love to go with you.”