Читать книгу The Accidental Boyfriend - Maggie Dallen - Страница 6

Jack was fairly certain he was hallucinating when Brunelli placed the open magazine in front of him and Daniel. After a month of seeing Holly constantly in his mind’s eye, he was sure he’d conjured her up.

Daniel cursed under his breath in a way that suggested Jack should fear for his life. No, he definitely hadn’t made this up. He and Holly were featured prominently in the center spread, she looking ethereal with her blond curls and pale blue gown, and him looking…well, smitten, was the only word to describe it. He leaned in to take a closer look. Good God, it almost looked like he was—

“You’re in love,” Brunelli declared, smacking the magazine with the back of his hand as though his words were a decree from above. The third partner in EverTech, the old Italian was the biggest romantic Jack had ever met.

“What? I am not in love,” Jack protested.

Daniel did not look amused. “How did this happen?”

“What do you mean, ‘how did this happen’? We were having fun.” Jack gestured toward the veranda as though the photographer was still out there. “How was I supposed to know there was somebody taking our picture?”

Daniel, who had been more and more on edge as his wife’s pregnancy progressed, looked just about ready to throttle Jack.

“Wait a second,” Jack said, feeling a tad defensive in the face of Daniel’s wrath. “Who am I dealing with here, overbearing business partner or overprotective brother-in-law?”

Daniel opened his mouth to answer but stopped as though stumped. Jack looked from Daniel to Brunelli, who just shrugged.

“I did nothing wrong here,” Jack said, pointing to the picture.

“Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re about to,” Daniel said. At that Brunelli nodded his agreement. Jack looked back at the picture. It did look incriminating. But for once, he could tell the truth, even though the truth sucked.

“I’m positive,” Jack said, giving them his best look of innocence. “I wouldn’t lie to you guys. We shared one innocent kiss”—okay, that was a stretch, it was passionate as hell and about as innocent as the devil—“but that’s where it ended.” He pointed to the beautiful blonde with blue eyes and the face of an angel. “We had a fun night together but even I wouldn’t try to seduce an innocent. She’s a second grade teacher from Ohio, for God’s sake, give me some credit.”

That much was true and Daniel knew it. The type of women Jack got involved with were worldly and experienced—the type who knew what they were getting into and had no delusions of happily ever afters. Jack didn’t do commitments; he wasn’t built that way. People who counted on him had a tendency to get hurt and he’d figured out long ago that it was best to keep his distance. The press may have declared him a heartbreaker but he had no intention of actually breaking hearts.

Daniel looked unconvinced. “If you mess with Ivy’s sister and she gets hurt, there will be hell to—”

“Daniel!” Ivy’s voice called out from the hallway.

All three men scrambled to hide the magazine as Ivy approached. Jack wasn’t the only one terrified of her reaction—the baby was due in a matter of weeks and her emotional stability was in something of a free fall.

She came waddling in with Brunelli’s eldest granddaughter, Lucia, following closely behind her. Lucia was shaking her head and giving Daniel a wide-eyed look of warning.

Jack exchanged looks with the other two men. Oh no, she’d seen the picture.

When Ivy came to a stop before them, out of breath from the long walk inside, Jack was ready to confess.

“I swear, Ivy, I didn’t know—”

“Daniel, we have to go to Paris,” Ivy said at the same time.

Jack stopped midsentence and turned to Daniel, whose jaw had dropped open in surprise. Daniel got to his feet and gently ushered her into a chair at the table. “Sweetheart, what are you so worked up about?”

“I need to get to Paris,” she said as Daniel propped up her feet and poured her a glass of lemonade. Watching Daniel, the coldhearted, ruthless tycoon, become a doting nursemaid over the past few weeks had been a constant source of amusement for Jack and Brunelli.

“Honey, you know you can’t fly in your condition,” Daniel said.

“Then you need to go to Paris,” she told him.

Daniel sat back in his chair and, in a calm voice of reason, said, “I was rather hoping to be present at the birth of my first child.”

Ivy let out a sigh but she nodded her agreement.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Maybe we can come up with a solution that doesn’t involve either of us flying to Paris today.”

“It’s Holly,” Ivy started.

Brunelli’s eyes shot to Jack, who subtly shifted in his seat so he could run away, if necessary. No one in this room knew his tendency to love ‘em and leave ‘em as well as Ivy did and if she thought for one second that her sweet, innocent sister was another notch on his bedpost, well she’d be a very pregnant, but very frightening, force to be reckoned with.

“What about Holly?” Brunelli asked, his gaze still locked on Jack.

Ivy blew an errant auburn curl out of her face. “She’s on a wild goose chase in Paris.”

“Holly’s in Paris?” Daniel said.

“Paris, France,” Ivy clarified, as though there was some doubt as to where Paris was located.

“I thought Holly was coming back to Italy to meet the baby next month,” Jack said. Not that he’d given it much thought or anything. He’d just rehearsed what he would say to her about six thousand times. Every time, it started with an apology. He was still ashamed of the way he’d ended things that night.

“She’s still coming here, but she decided to go to Paris first so she could chase after some guy.”

Jack’s brain went black. Before he could come up with a nonchalant way of asking why the hell Holly would be chasing after anyone—the woman was a goddess—Ivy was off on a tangent.

“This is just like her. Act first, think later. No, more like act first, think never. And now I have to tell my mom and dad that Holly ran away. I mean, she’s a grown woman, sure, but they still worry and it’s not like—”

Daniel put a hand over hers and it seemed to bring Ivy back to the present. She got a dreamy look on her face as she gazed adoringly at her new husband for a moment. Then she was right back to her old self.

“I’m worried about her,” she said. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Jack couldn’t take it anymore. “Who’s the guy?”

All eyes turned to him and he cleared his throat a bit. Perhaps that had come out a tad more…intense than he’d intended.

He tried again. “I mean, why is she chasing after this guy?” Leaning back in his chair he tried to project calm indifference but he didn’t miss the odd looks he got from the others at the table.

“Benjamin,” Ivy said his name on an exasperated sigh.

“Who’s Benjamin?” Now it was Daniel’s turn to sound a touch too angry, but it didn’t seem to strike anyone as odd coming from the overprotective brother-in-law.

“Is she in trouble?” Brunelli asked. The old man’s wrinkled brow was creased more than usual in concern.

“No, not really,” Ivy said.

Jack let out a pent up breath.

“She just wants to marry him.”

Jack froze. “What?” Luckily his not-so-manly screech was drowned out by similar outburst from everyone at the table. “So are you telling us that Holly has a boyfriend?” His voice sounded strange to his own ears. Oh God, he sounded like a jealous lover.

Daniel and Brunelli both turned to him with a glare and Brunelli gave a short nod toward the magazine, which was currently jutting out from beneath Jack’s behind.

Lucia answered this one, a hint of a smile hovering on her lips. “Had a boyfriend. He’s the one that got away.” She reached over to grab a grape from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table. “I think it’s romantic that she’s going after him.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Benjamin is sweet and all, but….”

But? Jack waited for her to continue but she just shook her head and sighed. But what? Was he a bad influence on her? Was he a player? Would he break her heart?

“It doesn’t matter why she followed him, the problem is, Holly followed him to the wrong Paris.”

Daniel frowned at her in concern. “Have you gotten too much sun today, sweetheart?” He reached over to place a hand on her forehead to check for a fever but she swatted him away.

“Holly is in Paris, France,” she stressed again, “and Benjamin is in Paris, Texas.”

There was a quiet beat as everyone digested the fact that Texas had a Paris of its own.

Lucia’s eyes widened in horror. “So Holly is alone in France and Benjamin is—”

“At an IT convention in the lone star state,” Ivy finished. “Yeah, that sums it up.”

“Can’t we call her?” Daniel asked.

Ivy shook her head. “Her phone is off since she’s out of country. She won’t check in again for days, maybe a week. And she’s terrible at checking email.”

“Do you know where she’s staying?” Brunelli asked.

“No, she didn’t say. But calling would do no good. She always uses different names when she travels.”

Jack and the others looked at one another in confusion and Ivy added, “You know, like celebrities use?” At their silence she mumbled, “You guys don’t know Holly very well, do you?”

Jack opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. Of course he didn’t know her well, they’d only spent one night together. One incredible night—but still.

Daniel reached over to grab his wife’s hand. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll go to Paris and make sure your sister is safe.” Ivy gave him a grateful smile.

Jack’s heart was pounding faster than usual and he was suddenly sweltering despite the air conditioning. Holly was close. Well, closer than the States, at least. She was on the continent, just a short plane ride away. The words were out of his mouth before he could think it through. “No, I’ll go.”

* * * *

Everyone turned to Jack in surprise and he shifted uncomfortably under their stares. “What? We all know Ivy could go into labor at any moment and nobody wants her or Danny stressing out about him not making it back in time.”

Ivy and Daniel shared a look that said he was right.

“Are you sure?” Ivy asked.

“Of course. I’ve been meaning to take a trip to Paris to visit my brother and his wife.” That was an outright lie but it sounded good and made his sudden eagerness to head to France slightly less bizarre.

So he was excited to see her. He could admit it to himself. He liked her. There. He admitted it. They didn’t have a future together, obviously, and there was a good possibility that she hated him right now but still, he liked her. He wanted them to be friends.

They would be in one another’s lives forever thanks to Ivy and Daniel and the new little baby on the way. He might as well get this apology over with and start making amends.

Ivy seemed happy with this new solution but Daniel was eyeing him. Jack could practically see the gears turning. When Ivy and Lucia left, happy in the knowledge that Holly would be found and not be left wandering the streets of Paris, France, for eternity, he was left alone once again with Daniel and Brunelli.

“What’s this all about?” Brunelli asked.

“Don’t tell me you suddenly developed an urge to eat croissants,” Daniel said.

“I told you, my brother moved there with his wife and—”

“Since when are you and your brother on speaking terms?” Daniel asked.

Jack grabbed some fruit and ignored the comment, focusing instead on juggling the apples and orange he held in his hands. “What’s your solution?” he asked. “You don’t want to leave Ivy. Are you really going to ask Grandpa here to go on this wild goose chase? No offense, Brunelli.”

The old man shrugged off his apology, “It’s true, I’m old.”

Daniel was still watching him with narrowed eyes. “Does your sudden desire to go to France have anything to do with this?” He pulled the magazine out from underneath Jack and held it up accusingly.

“I told you, nothing happened.” Jack snatched the magazine out of his hand. “Nothing of significance, anyway.” Unless you found amazingly perfect moments significant. In which case, maybe he’d lied.

“Look, I don’t know how she feels about me right now or about the picture, but I do know that I owe her an apology—” He held up a hand to stop the question that was coming. “I want to make things right. For Ivy’s sake and for Holly’s. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

Daniel leaned back in his chair, apparently accepting Jack’s explanation.

Ivy came back into the room and handed Jack a sheet of paper. “I don’t know if this will help but here are the names of some hostels where she might be staying. I know she likes this neighborhood.”

“Hostels?” Brunelli spit out the word with distaste. “Holly can’t stay at a place like that, I refuse to allow it. Jack, you will bring her to my pied-a-terre. No friend of mine will stay with…backpackers.” The word backpackers sounded like a curse word coming from Brunelli.

“Sure thing, boss,” Jack said, as Brunelli continued to grumble about filthy backpackers. He looked over the list of hostels. They were all in Montmartre, a well-known tourist destination.

“So Holly has been to Paris before,” Jack said, taking the paper from her. “That’s good.” Ivy gave him a funny look and he added, “At least she won’t be intimidated by the big city.”

That made Ivy laugh. “Trust me, Jack, there’s not much in this world that intimidates Holly.”

* * * *

Maybe it was time to phone a friend.

Holly was slumped over in her stool at the bar in the lobby of a hotel. The fifth hotel she’d been to that day, to be exact. Jet lagged and exhausted from trekking all over the city, she was ready to call it quits.

Maybe tomorrow she’d call her mom and ask her to find out where Benjamin and his IT buddies were hiding out. The thought of explaining herself to her mother was not at all appealing. Maybe she would call around to some other hotels tonight. Her sluggish brain refused to even contemplate next steps without a glass of wine in her hand.

Flagging down the bartender at the other end of the bar, she opted for choice number three—declare temporary defeat and enjoy the best city in the world while she could. After all, once she and Benjamin started a family she couldn’t traipse off across the world on a whim anymore.

Pushing aside a sudden tightness in her chest, Holly reminded herself that having a family would be worth the sacrifice.

She longed for a husband and a family and the white picket fence. She just hadn’t realized it until a year ago—until the miscarriage. It took having a family and losing it to make her see what was important in life.

The father had been another casual fling—one in a long line of infatuations and exciting, passionate romances that ultimately led nowhere. Before she could say “baby” he was out the door and out of her life with no more than a “ciao, babe.”

The miscarriage had hit her hard. Harder than she would have expected. She’d freaked when the strip turned blue but there had been excitement there alongside fear. She hadn’t realized how attached she’d gotten until it was gone.

She’d cried for weeks.

And then she’d booked a flight home. Back to her family, her hometown, and her first love—Benjamin. He was the obvious choice. If she was going to settle down, why not be with her best friend—a man who was stable and reliable and responsible and…basically, everything she was not. He would make an amazing father someday. The now-familiar mental image of Benjamin standing at her side as they gazed in adoration at their little bundle of joy was enough to make her heart squeeze painfully.

Yes, it would all be worth it once she had her family.

The waiter poured her a glass of red and she swirled it for a moment before raising it in salute. “Goodbye adventures, I’ll miss you most of all.”

Surrounded by happy couples and loudly chatting friends, Holly scrounged in her bag for something to read. She was sure her e-reader was hiding somewhere in the depths of her oversized purse—her Mary Poppins bag, as Benjamin liked to call it. Her fingers curled around a magazine and she pulled it out with a sigh.

It was that damn magazine with her stupid picture in it. She’d picked up a copy at the airport, despite her best intentions to ignore it on the stands. She couldn’t help taking one more look. And then another once she was on the plane. And now it was there in her hands and she found her traitorous fingers flipping it open to page thirteen.

It wasn’t because she wanted another glimpse of Jack, she told herself. Of course not. She just wanted to see it one more time with an objective eye; maybe it would help her figure out what to say to Benjamin once he saw it. Holly sighed; she had resigned herself to the fact that it was only a matter of time before he did.

If she found him quickly enough she planned on being the one to tell him so she could make sure he didn’t read anything into it.

Her heart skipped a beat as the pages fell open to the incriminating photo. She took a sip of wine to wet her suddenly dry mouth and forced herself to study the picture—she had to get over this ridiculous infatuation. And that’s what it was. It was just a harmless crush. Or at least it had been harmless when he was just tabloid eye candy and she was just another tabloid junkie.

But then he’d gone and become a real person. He’d come crashing into her sister’s life and then hers. She took another, larger gulp of wine as she studied the picture. She couldn’t believe this was happening again.

Few people knew the real story of how Jack came to know the Sinclair sisters and that’s the way they had to keep it. If anyone discovered the truth…well, no one looked good in the harsh light of the truth.

It had all started with an incriminating photo of Jack and Ivy that made it look like Jack was proposing. Taken totally out of context, of course, as the two had practically been strangers at the time. The photo became a tabloid sensation and everyone got the wrong impression.

Ivy was coerced into playing the part of Jack’s fiancée in order to save a business deal with Brunelli but when Ivy fell in love with Jack’s best friend, Daniel, the fake engagement came to an abrupt end, and Jack was cast as the rejected, heartbroken lover.

Until now.

There beneath the photo on page thirteen, the caption read: “Jack Everett shows he’s the bigger man by coming out to support the union of his ex-fiancée and his business partner at their wedding in Italy last month. Perhaps his ability to forgive and forget is thanks to the beautiful blonde who sources say never left his side.”

Holly drained the rest of her glass.

The wine was delicious and went directly to her head, enveloping her in a lovely warmth from her head down to her toes and taking the harsh edge off of her jangled nerves. She slipped the magazine back into her purse. That was a problem for another day. For tonight, she was going to enjoy herself.

She was in no rush to get back to her hostel, where she was sharing a room with three loud, college-age Polish girls who didn’t speak a word of English. One glass of wine led to two and then a lovely elderly gentleman offered to buy her a round and really, who was she to refuse a sweet old man?

It was in a state of giddy, lovely tipsiness that she sauntered back into her hostel. The ground floor had a bar area that was popular with expats—a sort of backpackers’ United Nations. She’d spent a lot of time at that bar the last time she’d stayed. Her boyfriend-of-the-hour, Lyon, had worked at a nightclub nearby and he’d meet her there for drinks before, during, and after his shift. Holly hesitated for a moment. But no, that was years ago, there was no way Lyon still haunted this bar.

She headed toward the bar area. Had it always smelled so strongly of smoke? Probably. Ooh, but that pool table was new. A group of young men were standing around it. Almost all looked to be too young for her. They had the straight-out-of-college look going on with their backward-facing baseball caps and faded T-shirts. For a brief moment, Holly had a stab of longing to be back in her early twenties; footloose and carefree. Back then she would take off to a new destination on a whim, never worrying about those pesky grownup things like health insurance or pension plans or declining fertility rates.

Granted, this trip to Paris had been a whim. But that was different. She was on a mission.

She sauntered over to the pack of English speaking young’uns and caught enough of the conversation to know that they were betting on the next game. One of the boys closest to her threw out a number that made her jaw drop.

No college grad had that kind of money unless they were tapping into a trust fund. Unless… She wandered closer to the group to get a better look. Yup. They were techies, the early twentysomethings who could be found in droves in Silicon Valley and who tended to travel together in packs. The famous website logos on their faded T-shirts were far better marketing than business cards. Whoever the poor sucker they were gambling against, he was in over his head.

The poor sucker was currently out of eyesight but a shockingly familiar voice said, “Bring it on, boys. Double or nothing.”

Holly’s saunter turned into a stumble. It sounded like—but no, it couldn’t be. But it really sounded exactly like—

A cheer went up from the group of boys and several of the boys started chanting their new hero’s name. “Jack, Jack, Jack….”

A wave of dizziness struck her as she froze in the middle of the room. Oh. My. God.

Before she could wrap her head around the fact that Jack Everett was here—here at her hole in the wall hostel, home to vagabonds, students, and the dreaded backpackers—the crowd before her parted and there he was, framed between a programmer from Twitter and a digital marketing consultant from Facebook. Or at least, that’s what she assumed they did.

But they didn’t matter. The boys fell away along with the rest of the world at the sight before her. All she could see was the handsome man with a five o’clock shadow and a devilish grin. His navy button-down was wrinkled and his jeans and shoes were faded and worn. He didn’t look like the genius tech tycoon who’d created the trendiest devices of the day.

The last time she’d seen him he was wearing a tux, the very picture of glamour and wealth, but today he looked like an average Joe, someone you’d sit next to at a sports bar or stand in line with at the bank. Except not. He was the guy who would play that guy in a movie. Because he was that guy times a million. He was the living, breathing definition of sexy and handsome and…oh dear God, he was playing with a pool stick.

Her heart beat so quickly it threatened to leap out of her chest. That was it—he was young Tom Cruise in The Color of Money. Not fair, not fair! Young Tom Cruise was her biggest weakness. How did he know that?

Get it together, Sinclair. She took a deep, steadying breath as the synapses in her brain struggled to make sense out of what she was seeing. What was he doing here? This could not be real. How much wine had she ingested? She really should have had dinner. It was a dream, it was just a dream. He bent over to take a shot and…oh Lord, that butt was definitely not a dream.

Her mouth opened of its own accord. “What are you doing here?”

If a record had been playing, it would have scratched to a halt. All the joking and laughter came to an abrupt halt at the sound of her high-pitched outburst.

Jack shot back up to a standing position and after a brief moment of surprise, his face broke into a grin, complete with dimples, and that cute squinty-eyed smile she couldn’t resist. He threw his arms wide in welcome. “I found you!”

She edged closer and the group of men moved aside while giving her curious looks. “What are you doing here?” she asked again.

His arms dropped but he crossed the few feet of space separating them so they didn’t have to shout over the talking that had resumed around them. When he drew close he pulled an awkward leaning move as though he might hug her but then he didn’t. Maybe she had pulled back, she wasn’t certain. Either way, now they were standing there, between a group of American bros and a cranky bartender who was manning the small but packed bar beside the pool table.

She shook her head in a vain attempt to shake off the alcohol haze that was making rational thought impossible. If only she could take a moment to compose herself, to get her senses straight—to sober up a bit, at the very least. But he was here, now, standing right in front of her, mere inches away. And he smelled so good—a deliciously manly scent that had to be cologne or aftershave. No one smelled that good naturally.

He spoke first, distracting her from her mission to discover the source of his scent. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She peered up at him in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be okay? And what are you doing here?”

“I came to find you. Ivy sent me,” he started.

Ice flooded her veins. Her mind instantly leapt to the worst possible scenario.

“Oh my God, Ivy. Is she okay? What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

Jack eyes widened in panic and he reached out to her before quickly pulling back. “No! No, no, she’s fine. The baby’s fine. Everybody is fine.”

Holly slapped a hand over her heart, which had catapulted into double time in fear. Adrenaline coursed through her. “Don’t scare me like,” she snapped.

He took a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t meant to—”

“If they’re okay, why are you here?” She caught the bartender eyeing them with curiosity and lowered her voice.

A fresh wave of dizziness swept over her as her mind struggled to make sense of the fact that Jack Everett was in Paris, in her hostel…the man had developed one of the most successful gaming systems on the planet while still in college, she would bet everything she owned that he had never once stayed in a seedy hostel like this one.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How did you find me?”

He glanced side to side while giving her a wary look, like she might cause a scene. Oh no. Was that it? Was he here because of that night? Ivy’s wedding night? She’d figured he’d be angry at the way it ended but she hadn’t thought he would track her down in a foreign city just to confront her.

Their little corner between the bar and pool table was growing more crowded by the minute and she was pushed even closer to him by an elbow in the back.

“Ivy told me you’d probably be staying at a hostel in this neighborhood and this was my second try.” He gave her his patented lopsided grin. “The guy behind the counter had no problem identifying a certain gorgeous blonde I know.”

His tone was breezy and joking. For a split second, warmth radiated through her at the flirtatious way he was talking, but then she remembered that flirtatious was the way he talked with all women, all the time. She was nothing special. Crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin, she asked for what felt like the millionth time, “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

At her unpleasant tone, he dropped the flirty demeanor and she caught a glimpse of something—embarrassment maybe? He looked…sheepish.

Oh no. He was here about that night.

“Ivy sent me,” he said again, this time looking a bit unsure of himself as he shifted from one foot to the other. “She was worried about you, being alone in the city and all.”

Holly would have burst out laughing if she wasn’t feeling so guilty about that night. As it was, she smothered a grin. Ivy, worried about her being in Paris alone? Aside from Oakdale, Paris was one of the safest places she’d ever lived and she’d been traveling on her own since she was eighteen. Her sister had ceased worrying about her about a decade ago.

The crowd around them was paying way too much attention to Jack. They both seemed to notice it at once. Jack, after all, was probably the equivalent of a superhero in the eyes of the tech nerds at the pool table—and just a plain old famous celebrity to everyone else. Holly shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their stares.

“Look, can we get out of here? I’d like to talk to you alone,” Jack said. He leaned in so only she could hear and she held her breath to keep from losing her senses around that damned cologne.

She let him lead her out of the hostel by the arm as she fumbled in her muddled brain for a good explanation for that night—had anyone ever discovered a polite, believable way to nicely say, “It’s not you, it’s me?” The chilly night air was refreshing and helped to clear her head.

Holly took a couple of deep breaths as she followed him down the street. She needed to come up with a good reason for why she’d kissed him like that, let him touch her like that, made promises like that and then…run away.