Forever A Hero. Linda Miller Lael
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had moved away, “let’s hear your proposal.”
Kelly looked alarmed for a moment, a reaction Mace enjoyed while it lasted. “Oh,” she said. “Yes.”
“Or,” Mace went on smoothly, before she had a chance to launch into whatever pitch she planned to make, “we could enjoy our lunch, get to know each other a little and talk business later. I’d like to show you the winery this afternoon, if you’re up to it. That way, you can experience the place firsthand.”
Kelly glanced down at her expensive, take-no-prisoners outfit with uncertainty. It was perfect for a boardroom, no argument there, but a working winery and acres of dusty vineyards? Not exactly.
“You’ll want to check out the grapes,” he added when she said nothing.
The hesitation was over. “I’d like that,” she said quietly.
Mace smiled, as pleased as if she’d agreed to go skinny-dipping in a sun-dappled creek. He let his gaze rest on the lace peeking from beneath her jacket, then looked quickly away. “You ought to swap out those clothes first, though. We’re talking behind the scenes here, not just the tasting room. Comfortable shoes will save you a few blisters, too.”
He fell silent. For a long interval, they simply stared at each other, something invisible and yet entirely real arcing between them.
Mace couldn’t have said what was going through Kelly’s mind, but he was picturing her upstairs in her room, with the shades drawn, slipping out of that perfectly fitted pantsuit, taking off the slacks, the jacket, the lace-trimmed top, slowly revealing her shapely legs and arms. He put the image in freeze-frame before she got to her bra and panties, which were probably skimpy enough to be sexy as hell, because his groin, already giving him trouble, had turned to granite.
At this rate, they’d be at their table for the rest of the day, just so he wouldn’t have to stand up and let Kelly see how much he wanted her. If it came to that, he decided, he’d “accidentally” spill a glass of ice water into his lap, or maybe a whole pitcherful.
He drew a series of deep breaths.
Kelly, still looking directly into his face, fiddled with her napkin.
Cindy broke the spell by delivering the promised bread basket and, soon after that, two glasses of wine.
Kelly’s hand trembled almost imperceptibly as she helped herself to a roll. “Still warm,” she said, somehow combining a sigh and a croon as she spoke. She split the bun between her fingers, and steam escaped, along with the familiar yeasty aroma. Then she reached for a butter knife.
It was such an ordinary, everyday thing to do, buttering a dinner roll, and yet there was an erotic element to her movements that struck Mace like a body blow, forcing him to look away. Again. Just as he recovered his equilibrium and turned to face her again, she took a bite.
“Mmm,” Kelly murmured, eyes closed. “Delicious.”
Barely suppressing a groan, Mace shut his eyes, too. Get a grip, Carson, he told himself.
“Is something wrong?” Kelly asked after a second or two, with a note of genuine concern. Clearly, she was unaware of the effect she was having on her potential business partner.
“I’m fine,” Mace said. The lie came out sounding hoarse, but if Kelly noticed, she didn’t let on.
“I love fresh bread,” she added with a blissful sigh.
Cindy returned, bringing Kelly’s lobster salad and his prime rib. Mace was relieved by the interruption, and although he’d lost his appetite somewhere along the line, he picked up his knife and fork.
Kelly smiled with a hint of sadness as she watched the girl walk away, resuming her duties. “I was like that once,” she said softly. An instant later, her expression made it obvious that she regretted the remark.
Mace forgot his own concerns as he studied Kelly’s face. “You were like what once?” he asked, reaching for his cabernet.
She lowered her eyes for a moment, raised them again. Their gazes connected.
The charge reminded him of the business end of a cattle prod.
Kelly’s spine was straight as she raised her shoulders on an indrawn breath and then looked down again. “Full of plans, I guess,” she answered reluctantly. “You know. Convinced that things would turn out the way I expected.”
Mace gave a slight, rueful smile. “I can relate,” he said.
She paused, a forkful of lobster salad halfway to her mouth. “You can?” She seemed surprised. “Are you telling me you’re disappointed in your life?”
Mace shook his head. “It’s not that. I love what I do. Love living on the ranch—it might sound corny, but the place is literally in my blood.” He paused, then went on. “There isn’t much I would change.”
“But there is...something?”
He sighed. He’d opened himself up to that question, he supposed. “I always figured I’d have a wife and kids by now,” he admitted.
She took that in, quietly chewing the food she’d just put in her mouth.
“What about you?” he asked. What dimmed your light, Kelly? Was it the attack, that night on campus? Or something that happened afterward? “You said you were ‘full of plans’ once.”
Kelly looked uncomfortable as she swallowed the bite of food, then took a sip from her wineglass. She smiled with an effort, a kind of fragility that tugged at Mace’s insides. “The usual things. Life in general, I guess.”
“Can you be more specific?” he asked.
She dodged his words neatly. “You wanted to be married, start a family?”
Mace smiled. “Nice try,” he said. “But the conversational ball is still in your court, isn’t it?”
Kelly sighed, put down her knife and fork. Pondered her reply. “I guess so,” she said, speaking so softly that Mace had to strain to hear. She went on, after more consideration. “Like I told you, I was married for a little while. My husband was a decent guy—he never cheated or anything like that. It was just that we wanted...different things, Alan and I.”
“Such as?”
“I wanted a few more years to build my career. Alan wanted children right away.”
“You didn’t want kids?”
“I did,” Kelly said. “But we were so young, just getting started. I thought we should wait until we were on solid financial ground, with a house and a bank account and everything.” She fixed her gaze on something beyond the window beside their table. “That was the agreement from the beginning,” she added. “I wasn’t asking Alan to wait forever, just until we were ready.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Mace told her.
Kelly nodded. Her eyes were somber, even a little misty. “I thought so,” she agreed, dropping her gaze to her salad. Picking up her knife and fork once more. When she looked at Mace again, she’d rustled up a flimsy smile. “Your turn.”
Mace ached for her, but he returned her smile. “Fair enough,” he said. “But there isn’t a whole lot to tell.”
“Sarah,” Kelly prompted gently. Thanks to Cindy, that much of his personal history was out in the open, anyway.
“Sarah,” he confirmed. “We dated in college.”
Kelly waited, saying nothing.
Mace had always kept his own counsel, especially where his love life was concerned, but for some reason, with this woman he hardly knew, he found himself talking.
“We were in some of the same classes, freshman year, and we just sort of gravitated toward each other as time went by. Maybe it was because we had some things in common—Sarah