Destiny's Last Bachelor? (6 page)

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Authors: Christyne Butler

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BOOK: Destiny's Last Bachelor?
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“I said hold on.” He reached for her again, but this time her forward motion had her landing against his chest.

Latching on to his shoulders, she held tight as he eased her down the length of him. A wall of solid muscle against her curves. Her breath caught and she found herself staring at her own wide-eyed reflection in his dark shades, suddenly wishing she’d taken a moment to put on her own glasses.

“Why did you do that?” His words came out in a raspy whisper.

She could feel the ground beneath her feet—at least she thought she could—but he didn’t let go of her. “Do what?”

“Grab on to me.”

“You told me to hold on.” Which was true, but now there was no reason for her to continue to do so. She dropped her hands and he did the same. “Thanks for helping me.”

Dean took a step back, stumbling over the purse she’d dropped when she’d latched on to him. He bent and picked it up, taking his time rising to his full height, his gaze once again moving slowly over her. He handed her the purse. “I’ll wait out here while you change. You bringing along your little companion?”

Priscilla blinked and pressed her clutch to her chest. Still breathless from all of this close contact, she fought to understand what he was talking about. “Oh, you mean— No, I don’t think so. I don’t really know anything about the camp and I wouldn’t want him to get lost. I had him out for a walk early this morning, so—” She stopped when she realized she was rambling. She never rambled. “I’m sure Snake will be fine in the room.”

“Good. I won’t have to worry about my shoes, then. Don’t take too long, okay? It’s lunchtime.”

She glanced at her watch, noting he was right. It was half past noon. “I’m sorry, am I getting in the way of your next meal?”

“Nope, because this time you’ll be joining me.”

Was he asking her out on a date again? “I will?”

“Me and about fifty or so campers.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his truck. “In the camp’s dining hall. If memory serves, on Sundays the menu is mac and cheese, sliders with or without cheese, and apple crisp.”

Confusion filled her. “Sliders?”

“Yeah, sliders.” Dean cupped his hands. “You know, mini hamburgers? Just the right size for a kid.”

So she’d never eaten a mini hamburger before? Big deal. Before she could think about it, she reached for his hands and gave them a quick squeeze. “They sound divine. I won’t be but a moment.”

She let go and turned away, the prickly feeling on her fingers matching the one between her shoulders that told her Dean was watching her every step. She put a bit more swing into her hips as she walked up onto the inn’s covered front porch. Giving in to the urge to confirm her suspicion, she paused and looked back. Yes, he still stood in the same spot, his gaze fixed on her. At least it seemed that way. An unexpected smile creased her lips as she entered the inn and hurried to her room.

Once inside, she leaned back against the door, pressed a hand to her stomach and released a deep breath. What was she doing? One minute the man was putting his hands on her with an ease and familiarity she’d never felt before and now she was flirting with him?

She’d only met Dean Zippenella forty-eight hours ago!

Goodness, up until last week she’d been in a committed—at least on her part—relationship. Her first long-term one since college, as her work kept her very busy. In fact, Jonathan had been the one to pursue her. Relentlessly in the beginning, but once they’d established their relationship, they’d both been so busy with their work and social calendars that they’d settled into...what? Was what she had with her ex so sedate and lackluster that he’d been compelled to find someone else, even if that someone was her sister? Did that explain why she found herself so attracted to—

A subtle beeping came from Priscilla’s purse, interrupting her thoughts. She opened it and grabbed her cell phone. “Hello?” Silence greeted her. She could tell the call was live, but no one responded. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Hey, Priscilla.”

Jacqueline. Her sister’s voice held that breathless quality that always reminded her of an animated cartoon princess, but now it sounded a bit shaky, as well. Still, it was Priscilla’s legs that gave out. She sank onto the closest chair. Snake, who hadn’t budged from his pillow when she entered the room, scurried to her side and plopped down at her feet, his face a study of doggy concern.

Priscilla opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She checked the screen on the phone just to be sure. Yes, there was the image of her sister’s smiling face looking back at her. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t bothered to check.

“Priscilla, please. I know you’re still there.” Jaq’s voice was stronger as it came through the speaker. “Please talk to me.”

She pressed the phone to her ear while bending over to give Snake a quick scratch behind his ears. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“But you answered my call. I was so sure you wouldn’t.”

“If I’d been smart enough to check the display first, you’d be speaking to my voice mail now.” Priscilla’s words snapped off her tongue as a thread of anger finally overcame her shock. She jumped to her feet and paced the length of the room. “Especially since this is the first time you’ve called since—since last Wednesday.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

She hadn’t. She wasn’t ready to deal with her sister. After she returned Jonathan’s ring, something she planned to have her assistant take care of as soon as she returned home, their three-year relationship would be officially over. Not that there was any doubt now, but repairing things with Jacqueline... “You were right.”

“Oh, Sissy...”

The use of the childhood nickname caused Priscilla’s heart to squeeze in her chest. As a toddler, Jacqueline had trouble pronouncing her name, so she’d often called her “sister,” which had soon turned into Sissy, a name that stuck to this day, especially when the two of them were having a private talk.

Or when Jacqueline wanted to wheedle her way out of another mess.

“Look, I’m a little busy at the moment—”

“It just happened. We didn’t plan... We didn’t want to hurt you.” Her sister’s rushed words filled her ear. “There was never any attraction between Jonathan and me until that night. I mean, yes, I’ve always thought he was a hottie, and I sometimes teased you about wanting him for myself, but I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that we were both standing there on the red carpet, each of us alone, so we just sort of turned to each other. We connected, and that’s when the camera flashes started going off....”

Priscilla’s thoughts raced back to that night. She’d been standing backstage in front of a monitor that showed the steady stream of celebrity arrivals, including Jonathan, who must’ve just received her note that she wouldn’t be joining him out front as previously planned. He hadn’t been happy about being stood up—she could see that from his facial expression—but then moments later, Jacqueline appeared at his side, looking amazing in a rhinestone-and-tulle getup.

She remembered the surprise on Jonathan’s face, but then it shifted to something else as he tightened his arm around Jacqueline’s waist and flashed his perfect smile at her and the cameras.

“Well, I guess I should be thankful that your betrayal was so spur-of-the-moment and hadn’t been going on behind my back for the last three years.” Priscilla stopped her pacing and grabbed at the back of the desk chair, needing something solid to hold on to.

“Priscilla—”

“I can’t talk about this now, Jaqueline.” Her gaze fell to the paperwork concerning the auction and the camp spread out over her desk. “I need to get back to work.”

“But Dad said you’d taken off for your extended vacation.”

Surprised filled her. “You’ve spoken to him?”

“Ah, well, no...actually, it was Elizabeth who took my call. Dad was busy. As usual. And probably still too pissed to talk to me.”

Yes, Priscilla was sure her sister was right on both counts.

“Where are you?” Jacqueline continued. “You didn’t go to France, did you?”

The question confused her for a moment. Then she realized where her sister and her ex had disappeared to. And why she was suddenly calling her. “Are you worried we might bump into each other along Boulevard de la Croisette?”

“No, of course not! I mean, yes, I suppose—and it might be awkward—”

“Might be?” That was it. She was done with this conversation. “Well, don’t concern yourself. I am about as far away from France as I could be, and you know what? I’m beginning to believe that’s a good thing. A very good thing.”

“Priscilla, do you really think you should have left town? I know you had plans, but I’m sure Daddy and the foundation want you back where you can...you know, take care of things. Important things.”

“Do not tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. You’re the one who caused this mess and I’m not going to fix—” Priscilla pressed a hand to her lips, cutting off her own words. No. She wasn’t going to advise her sister on what needed to be done. Not this time. Not about this. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait! When can I talk to you again?”

“I honestly don’t know.” The tightness in her chest doubled, making it hard for Priscilla to breathe. “Goodbye, Jacqueline.”

Lowering the phone, she could still hear her sister’s voice, but a quick press of the button and it was gone. She sank into the chair. Snake hurried to her side, leaned against her legs and sighed. Seconds later, the phone lay forgotten on the desk as she held the soothing warmth of the tiny dog to her chest, his wet nose snuggled against her neck.

“Thank you for the loving, Snake, but I can’t sit here and get lost in this crazy mess. I have someone waiting for me and he’s probably not happy that I’m making him late for lunch.”

Priscilla lowered the pup back to the floor and then quickly stripped out of her dress and heels, trying to keep her sister’s last words out of her head. And failing. Who did Jacqueline think she was handing out advice on what she should be doing?

“You
shouldn’t
have cheated with your sister’s boyfriend.” Priscilla eyed the outfit laid out on her bed, knowing it wasn’t exactly the best for hiking in the forest, but it was all she had to work with for now. “Even if that sister’s broken heart isn’t anywhere near as shattered as she’d thought it’d be. Especially with a very handsome firefighter waiting for her downstairs.”

Thinking about Dean had her pausing after she dressed. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. What would he think of her simple outfit, complete with ballerina flats, the only low-heeled shoes she had with her?

And why did she care?

Realizing the formal French twist she’d put her hair up in for church was too much for her afternoon plans, she quickly removed the pins and instead pulled it back in a casual ponytail. She gave herself a quick spritz of perfume and was halfway through reapplying her lipstick when she caught herself.

“It’s what you do every time you freshen up,” she spoke to her reflection, “no matter who is waiting for you.”

She then turned away, grabbing her leather tote with her trusty portfolio inside, gave Snake a quick belly rub and left.

Back outside, she’d expected Dean to still be standing by his truck, but he was sitting behind the wheel. She opened the door and his head snapped up from where it’d been resting against the seat cushions. “Hey, let me help—”

“No need.”

“But your skirt—”

“It’s not a skirt.” She grabbed the bar on the doorframe and hauled herself into the truck. “It’s a skort.”

Dean yanked his sunglasses off his face. “What the hell is a skort?”

“One part skirt, one part shorts.” Closing the door, she placed her bag at her feet and fastened her seat belt. “Okay, let’s go.”

He stared at her for a moment, then started the engine, put his glasses back on and pulled out onto the street.

Priscilla kept her gaze either firmly in front of her or out the passenger-side window as they left town, taking the same road that led to Bobby and Leeann’s place. The businesses and homes of Destiny gave way to lush green forest as they drove, but all Priscilla could see was the sunny beaches and resort towns of the Mediterranean coastline in the southeast corner of France.

“Are you telling me you didn’t pack a single pair of jeans in those half-dozen suitcases I saw in the back of your car?” Dean asked, breaking into her thoughts. “And some sneakers?”

“It was only four suitcases.” And her garment bag. And her makeup tote, but that wasn’t technically a suitcase. Besides, when was the last time she’d actually worn jeans? College? Priscilla couldn’t remember. “When I packed for this trip, the plan was to spend the rest of the summer at...at a friend’s château in the South of France, not out here in cowboy country.”

Dean’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel but he remained silent. They passed the long driveway that lead to Bobby and Leeann’s house and continued for a few minutes before taking a turn beneath a wooden arch emblazoned with the camp’s name. Dean drove past a parking lot, following a winding road that led deeper into the forest. Soon, they came to a clearing with a view of a beautiful lake and numerous log buildings scattered among the trees.

He pulled to a stop next to one of the buildings and shut off his truck. “And when your plans changed, you didn’t switch out your wardrobe before you hit the road?” he asked.

“The only thing I was thinking about hitting at the time was my ex-boyfriend, squarely on the jaw.” Shocked at her own words, Priscilla released the latch on her seat belt, wanting nothing more than to be out of this truck.

This was a bad idea. She should’ve just gone back down to the parking lot and told Dean she couldn’t do the tour. But they were here, so she might as well get it over with. She grabbed her tote and reached for the door handle.

“Wait a minute,” Dean called out. “You wanted to take a swing at your boyfriend? Why?”

“My
ex
-boyfriend,” Priscilla emphasized, “when I found him getting all hot and heavy with my sister!”

“Your sister?” Dean’s voice was incredulous, but then it switched to concern. “Hey, watch out. Those pine needles can be a bit—”

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