Read Her Backup Boyfriend (Entangled Bliss) (Sorensen Family) Online
Authors: Ashlee Mallory
Tags: #Colorado, #lawyer, #fake relationship, #Catherine Bybee, #cindi madsen, #multicultural, #contractor, #small town romance, #holiday, #Category Romance, #sweet romance, #fake boyfriend
“Yes, well, I had some stuff I thought I could work on from home.” Kate dropped her gaze and lifted her bag up. He caught sight of a laptop and several file folders peeking from the top. “Speaking of which, I should get going.”
“Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight, Kate? I made lasagna and there’s more than enough. I even made apple strudel for dessert.” He had to give his aunt an
A
for effort in her obvious attempt at matchmaking. It was a like a conspiracy between her and the rest of the women in his family to see him dating again.
“That does sound delicious,” Kate said. “But I ate a late lunch and don’t think I could eat another bite. Thank you for offering.”
She’d been careful to keep her gaze from his but he couldn’t help but notice the slight pink around her lids that, at least with his two sisters, had usually been caused by tears. Maybe she had a heart, after all.
“Another time then, dear. Oh, by the way. About ten minutes after you left this morning, a guy in a truck advertising a carpentry service showed up. Were you looking for someone to do some work around your house?”
Glenda didn’t wait for a response but placed her hand on Dominic’s arm, and he repressed a groan, knowing what was coming.
“If you are, you should look no farther than this man before you. His family runs a construction company, mostly large commercial projects, but Dominic has always had an eye for restoration. He does wonderful work. I bet he could probably give you a reasonable quote.”
“I will definitely keep him in mind,” the redhead said in a tone Dominic knew meant
no way in hell
, even if his aunt wasn’t as perceptive. “I really have to go. It was nice meeting you, Dominic.”
He inclined his own head slightly in return. “Pleasure was all mine.”
Before Glenda could make any further interruptions, Kate turned and strode up the driveway. Her long legs made quick work of the distance and he couldn’t help but appreciate the generous curves that even her boring black skirt couldn’t hide.
Glenda was saying something about the length of time until dinner was ready, and he nodded while he continued to watch Kate’s exit. She pocketed a business card squeezed in the doorjamb and turned her key in the door. From out of nowhere an orange tabby cat shot up the porch steps and wrapped itself around her feet. She took a moment to disentangle her heels from the feline and they both disappeared inside.
He nodded toward the place. “Does it still look like it did when the bank had the house up for sale this past summer?”
Back in June, he’d stopped by out of curiosity when he saw the
for sale
sign planted in the law. The house was beautiful, with the low-pitched tile roof and overhanging boxed eaves, all of which he placed as turn of the century. It certainly had lots of potential, but it had been too small for his taste. He wanted something with a lot more space. Something for a family.
“I only caught a peek last week, mind you, but it looked close to the same. Poor dear still doesn’t even have her window coverings up.”
He nodded. She had her work cut out for her, then. Ordinarily, he’d be more than happy to get inside the place, see what he could do. But it was probably better this way. No sense working around someone—someone as pretty as her—knowing that nothing could ever come of it. It’d be like dangling a carrot in front of a horse. Torture.
Mentally he wished her luck and followed his aunt inside.
Chapter Two
“Hey, Kate.”
Hearing the familiar voice, Kate’s chest tightened. She glanced at the time and paused to write it down on the yellow legal pad in front of her, earning herself a few extra seconds to try and collect herself. She pulled a few slow breaths into her lungs.
And looked up into his face.
Michael was smiling fondly down at her. Kate knew what he was thinking. She’d always been a bit of a hard-liner when it came to tracking billable hours, not comfortable with rounding up to two-tenths of an hour when a call might be closer to a tenth. But she was well aware that to the average person working forty-plus hours just to put food on the table, one hour of her billable time could cost as much as their weekly income. Not that money was an issue for any of Strauss and Fletcher’s clients, but for Kate, old habits died hard and she insisted on being meticulous.
Whereas Michael, whose family’s money traced back to the earliest settlers, had no idea what it was like to live hand to mouth. He’d always thought she was a bit of a lark when it came to her diligence at keeping track of her time. Or so he used to say when he tucked a strand of hair from her eyes and kissed her soundly. The memory caused another twinge in Kate’s fragile heart.
Stop it, damn it. Pull it together.
“What case are you working on? Finnegars?” Michael asked and glanced down at the files strewn across her desk. Judging from the way his brown hair arched evenly above his ears, she guessed he’d had a haircut recently.
Without waiting for an invitation, he took a seat across from her, throwing his right leg over his knee, and sat back comfortably, almost like things had never changed. So much like…before. Except he wore a blue-striped tie Kate wasn’t familiar with. He must have come from a client meeting, because he hadn’t taken the time to shed his tie and jacket or unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt as he usually did.
He was, in her estimation, perfect. The picture of confidence, sophistication, and power. A picture that had always made Kate’s heart skip before. It just ached now.
Michael’s brows furrowed, and he pressed his hands together in front of him. He spoke slowly and deliberately. “I understand from Nicole the cat may be out of the bag about our recent…development.”
He could say that. She pinched the inside of her hand, willing herself not to tear up.
Michael, fortunately, didn’t seem to notice her distress. “I wanted to come and see you myself. Make sure you’re okay with everything.”
“Me?” She forced herself to laugh and gave him a perplexed expression. “Why wouldn’t I be all right? I’m happy for you. Really.”
Her assistant, Trish, arrived in the doorway with a notebook in hand, ready for their meeting. She froze when she saw Michael, and her face drew into a grimace. Shooting Kate a brief, sympathetic smile, she scurried out.
Momentarily distracted from the conversation, Kate tried to remember what she had been about to say, aware Michael was looking at her expectantly.
Yes. That’s right. About being completely happy for him.
“Besides, you and I have been over for ages. It’s not like I didn’t expect you were seeing someone. We’ve
both
moved on, after all.”
He raised his right brow. “Oh? So you’re seeing someone, then? I hadn’t realized.”
Crap. It had sounded like that. How had that happened? But she sure as Hades wasn’t going to take it back and look like a liar, or worse—like she was single and still pining for him.
Because she wasn’t. Much.
Certain her face was as flaming red as her hair, she smiled wide to cover her mortification. She might as well go with it, make it appear like embarrassment in talking about her guy. She glanced down at her hands twisted together in her lap, unable to meet his gaze. She’d never been any good at lying to him. “Oh. For a little while. Nothing too serious, yet.”
She was so burning in hell for this.
“Good for you. Good for you,” he said, perhaps a tad overexuberantly. “I’ve been worried how this would affect you. Especially since we all work at the same firm. Nicole told me I was being ridiculous.
We’re all professionals
, she said. Looks like she was right.”
“Absolutely. No need to concern yourself on my account. I’m happy for the two of you. Nicole is so, so…” Bitchy? Snotty? Somehow, she didn’t think either of those descriptions would be appropriate here.
“She is, isn’t she?” Michael answered and a smile tugged at his mouth as his brown eyes lost focus for a moment before continuing. “With the two of you working together on the McKenna case, it’s probably best to get it out in the open. And with the firm’s fall retreat coming up and then Payton’s engagement party, it was only a matter of time before you’d see us together.”
Frick. That’s right.
Kate had resigned herself to seeing Michael at Payton’s engagement party, since Kate knew the Vaughns were close friends with Michael and his family. But that didn’t mean Kate was ready to see him moving on with her new second chair. Not at Payton’s engagement party and certainly not for a whole weekend retreat under the fishbowl gaze of the entire law firm.
Especially since she still hadn’t found anyone to bring as her own date.
She only hoped the horror she felt didn’t register on her face as she smiled so wide her cheeks were hurting.
Michael came to his feet, pausing a moment. “I’m glad things are going so well for you, Kate. You deserve it.”
She looked into those familiar brown eyes, remembering how she’d once thought the future was theirs. Together.
“Thanks, Michael. You, too,” she lied.
…
Kate managed not to look too horrified as she stared at the bottom figure on the bid that the contractor handed her. Corroded pipes that needed to be replaced? Electrical rewiring? It just didn’t mesh with the information she’d learned from house’s inspection report done only two months before.
“Thanks for your time. I have a couple more people I’m talking to and then I’ll be in touch.” Kate followed the guy out to the front porch. She watched his slow gait as he plodded his way toward the truck parked in the driveway. With a marked grimace, he managed to pull himself into the cab and shut the door.
Good riddance.
The air a little nippy, she rubbed her hands along her arms and looked around the neighborhood. Quiet, peaceful, and painted in bright, vibrant fall colors thanks to the leaves from the large, century-old sycamore trees that lined the streets.
She noticed the mail truck at the end of the block, and a sense of dread overcame her. Payton had mentioned she’d sent the engagement party invitations out on Thursday. It was bound to be there. She supposed she’d better go look.
The contractor’s rusty brown contraption sputtered to life as she passed it, but he remained in park while he read something from his cell phone. She tried not to crinkle her nose in distaste at the gray plume of smoke that spewed from the tailpipe.
Things were not looking good on the contractor front. She’d already contacted five different guys since Tuesday. The only one with an opening on a Saturday at such late notice had been this guy. Two had told her the earliest they could stop by was next week, although the soonest they could start any work would be mid-December, after some of their bigger projects slowed down. She was keeping her fingers crossed until then.
Kate grabbed the pile of mail and snapped the mailbox shut. There it was. The dreaded cream-colored envelope addressed to Ms. Kate Matthews and guest.
She opened it, despite already knowing what it said, having seen a copy a couple of weeks ago. But this was official. Only a few more weeks until Payton’s party, where she would be surrounded by several wealthy and prestigious families—including Michael’s—at the city’s most exclusive country club. Payton’s mother wouldn’t hear of anything less.
Maybe she should take Payton up on her offer to set Kate up with one of the groomsmen. At least then she wouldn’t have to go solo or to explain to Michael why her fabulous new boyfriend was absent.
For a moment, the image of the sexy contractor with the devious grin came to mind. With someone like him as her escort, Kate would be sure to score some jealousy points from Michael.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, Kate almost didn’t look up in time to see that her near contractor had thrown his truck into reverse and was hurling down the driveway.
Headed directly toward her.
She leaped to the left and fell to the ground just as the truck screeched out onto the road—almost colliding into another oncoming truck. Fortunately the other driver responded quickly and managed to swerve in time. With barely a wave of his hand, the contractor put his truck in drive and continued down the street, unconcerned with the near wreckage he’d caused.
The other truck moved forward again, made a wide turn, and pulled into Glenda’s driveway.
Of course, it would be him.
…
Dominic parked his truck and stared outside his window at the redhead sitting in the middle of her lawn. She was surrounded by mail and wet leaves, a few of which almost matched the color of her hair, save for a couple stuck in the thick riot of waves and curls. Gone was the cool lawyer, replaced with someone more touchable—and human. Not to mention cute when she was flustered like that.
He opened his truck and climbed out. “You two related? I may have to take out extra hazard insurance to park here.”
She sprang to her feet and started gathering the letters, not bothering to look up before she answered. “It seems as if the whole contracting profession believes common courtesy, speed limits, and other rules of the road are optional.”
He leaned back against his truck, enjoying the view. He’d bet she had no idea how the damp fabric of her jeans practically molded to her backside as she bent down. He should probably help her, but by the way she was huffing and throwing disgruntled looks his way, she’d sooner eat the mail than accept his help.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Dominic said and scratched his chin like he was pondering something, “but I think there’s a city ordinance that requires you to keep the walkways clear of all debris. It’s a safety issue. That mound of leaves you’re accumulating could earn you some hefty fines if you’re not careful. Even a fancy lawyer should be able to handle a rake if she puts her mind to it.”
“I was already planning on getting to it today, but thank you for your concern.” She brushed a wad of hair from her eyes, and the last leaf in her hair loosened and fell to the ground. Too bad. He’d liked the effect.
Dominic straightened from his perch and lumbered toward Glenda’s side door. “I only mention it because we might see some snow in the next few days. You don’t want those leaves sitting on your lawn all winter long. It’ll rot the grass.”
He tapped on Glenda’s door then let himself in.
…
Kate peeked around the corner of her front room window for the fourth time in the past hour, holding her breath.
The white pickup was still parked in Glenda’s driveway.
Dominic Sorensen didn’t appear to be in a hurry to leave, making her efforts to avoid him and any further embarrassment impossible.
What, was he moving in?
For the last hour or so, Kate had confirmed that there was, in fact, a city ordinance that mandated home owners keep the walkways unobstructed. But having grown up living in a series of trailer homes, then a small condo apartment with her grams, and, later, one rented half of a duplex after she graduated from law school, she’d never had any experience with the obligations of home ownership.
Kate tried to figure out her options. If she could put this off until tomorrow, she would. But Sunday was not a possibility, and the rest of the week was no good, either, not with her work schedule.
Sure. The stupid leaves might look amazing, as she was just appreciating earlier, but they were quickly losing their appeal now that they’d hit the ground.
How diligently did the city enforce this rule? Did she dare risk a citation? From the way the sun was waning, she guessed she only had about another hour of good light to get the task done. She was going to have to risk it.
With resolve, she strode through the front room toward her half-gutted kitchen—with the hideous blue floral wallpaper—where she kept a light jacket and rubber boots by the door. When she’d bought the house, she’d found a few gardening tools in the shed out back, including a rather decrepit rake. But since she didn’t have time to go to Home Depot, it would have to do.
Glenda’s small terrier barked from her backyard. Kate stuck her head out the back door for a minute to hear the low murmur of voices, confirming they—meaning, Dominic—would be preoccupied for the time being. She didn’t need an audience. Especially since she had no clue how someone raked a lawn.
It can’t be that difficult. Right?
She took another deep breath of the smoky-scented October air and marched around the back of her yard. At the top of the driveway she collected the garbage can and rolled it behind her to the sidewalk. Pensive, she stared at all the work now spread across her lawn. A little awkwardly, she took a large swath of the leaves with the rake. The crush of the dry leaves bristled loudly in the air. She took another sweep, revealing damp grass underneath.
Actually, this might not be so bad. It is kind of peaceful out here.
By the time she had three large piles of leaves and the lawn green and naked again, the sun had hit the Oquirrh Mountains, leaving the evening sky a purplish hue. Satisfied, she wiped a sleeve across her nose, which was cold and slightly damp from the chill in the air. Now all she had to do was get these leaves off the ground and up into the can. She wished she had a pair of gloves and would bet Glenda had some she could borrow, but there was no way she was going to ask for them now.