Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (71 page)

“We'll ignore the fact that Janis has asked for my help.”

If only that were true,
he thought, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temple.

“You could do it for Katie,” his mother said. “She's such a nice girl.”

Never words to make a single man's heart beat faster, he thought grimly. “Katie and I don't get along.”

Granted, it had been a lot of years ago, but he remembered that summer afternoon clearly. His mother had insisted he come along with her while Tina met with her best friend. He'd agreed and had regretted the decision the second Katie had looked at him, then sighed with obvious disappointment.

Katie had been opinionated, only interested in sports and obviously contemptuous of him. Sure, he'd been a nerd and awkward and he'd never communicated well with others. But she'd been difficult and unfriendly. She'd also threatened to beat him up. At the time, she probably could have.

“Things could be different now,” his mother said. “She's lovely.”

“Uh-huh.”

His mother straightened in her chair. Tina Kent was small, but he knew better than to judge her by her size.

“Do you remember ten years ago when I had breast cancer?” she asked.

He held in a groan and nodded.
Not this,
he thought.
Anything but this.

“You were in college. I didn't want you to know how bad it was because I wanted you to focus on getting your masters.”

It was in that program he'd developed the software that had launched his company and turned him into a multimillionaire in three short years.

“Mom—” he began.

She held up a hand. “When you came home, you
were worried. I promised you I would get better.” She paused expectantly.

“I said I would do anything if you would,” he said dutifully.

“I kept my promise. Now it's time for you to keep yours. You're going to be Katie's date for the wedding. You'll spend four days at the resort in Fool's Gold, and you'll do everything you can to make Katie feel like a princess.”

Dammit all to hell.
Why couldn't he be like some of his friends and never talk to his parents? Why did he and his mother have to get along? Except for this obsession with Katie McCormick, his mom was a great woman to have around. They'd always been able to talk and he respected her opinion. But right now he would give anything for a brief but meaningful estrangement.

“Mom,” he began, then shook his head. It was four days. Surely he could survive that. “Fine. You win.”

She smiled broadly. “Good. Janis was there for me every day when I was sick. I'm so happy to finally be able to repay her, at least a little.”

“You're selling out your only son. What will the neighbors think?”

“That it's about time you found yourself a woman.”

Two

K
atie waited nervously at the entrance to the Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort. The name misled those who didn't know the history of the place, or the luxury of the rooms.

The hotel nestled in the mountains above Fool's Gold—a grand old place with an architectural style somewhere between Victorian and chalet. What should have looked awkward or busy was instead welcoming. The views were impressive, the restaurant five-star and the service unmatched. There were world-class boutiques in the lobby and a spa that tempted celebrities from all over the world. If this had been Katie's wedding, she would have chosen to have the ceremony on the shore of the lake in town, with the reception in one of the local restaurants. But her sister had always wanted something grander and more expensive. So a four-day extravaganza at the Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort it was.

Katie had already checked in, as had the rest of her
immediate family. Those traveling from out of town would be arriving any second and she had to find Howie before anyone else did. Getting their stories straight was essential. Otherwise, there was no point in having him stick around for the long weekend.

For a brief second, she weighed the idea of exposing the sham. She would be free of Howie, but reduced to spinster status. Yes, it was a new century. Yes, women could do anything. Yet in the world of the McCormicks, being single and within three years of thirty was both a disaster and a source of shame.

“But you're a sports writer,” her aunt Tully would say yet again. “Can't you catch a rich husband from all those sports you watch?”

If only it were that simple. The problem was while she loved sports—the competition, the quest for greatness, the odd quirks that made every game interesting—she was less thrilled by athletes. Maybe because she'd seen them at their worst—one of the perks of her job. It was sort of like working in the kitchen of a restaurant. Dining out would never be the same again.

A tall, dark-haired man entered the lobby. He was good-looking enough to turn heads, with a body to match. Broad shoulders and long legs, all dressed neatly in a soft-looking blue-striped shirt tucked into jeans. If only, she thought regretfully, looking past the hunky guy and hoping to see the bumbling nerd who was on the verge of being late.

He was into computers. Maybe she should have sent Howie an e-mail reminder.

“Katie?”

The tall, dark stranger stopped next to her. She stared
at his firm mouth, his strong jaw and the gorgeous green eyes barely concealed behind steel-rimmed glasses.

Her mouth opened. She felt it, then had to consciously close it. No way. Not possible. On what planet could this be happening?

“H-Howie?”

The man smiled. It was one of those sexy, self-deprecating smiles that made every woman in the room want to purr.

“Jackson,” he corrected. “I go by Jackson now. My middle name.”

Or eye candy. That name would work, too, she thought, her brain stuttering as she attempted to take in the changes. He was taller, more muscular, even his hair was perfect.

“H-Howie?” she repeated.

The smile turned into a low chuckle. “I'm not that different.”

Au contraire.

“You've, ah, grown up,” she managed, hoping she didn't look as stupid as she felt.

“So have you.”

She wrinkled her nose.
Up
wasn't exactly the right word. She was about the same height she'd been at thirteen—a very average five foot five. The difference was she'd lost about forty pounds since then. And figured out how to play up her equally average features. She wasn't complaining—not exactly. But in a family of very tall, thin, attractive people, she was a throwback to the short, curvy lineage that everyone thought had been bred out.

“Yes, well, I've at least lost the baby fat,” she said, figuring there was no point in ignoring the obvious.

Jackson studied her. “Your eyes are the same. Pretty. I remember the color.”

“Because I was glaring at you?” she asked.

“Uh-huh. I was terrified you were going to beat me up.”

“You treated me like I was an idiot.”

“I was overcompensating for feeling like I didn't belong.” He shrugged. “Don't take it personally. I acted that way everywhere.”

“One of the downsides of being the smartest guy in the room?”

“You held your own.”

She laughed. “I was reduced to threatening physical violence. Not exactly the definition of holding my own.”

“You did fine. Now I hear you're a famous sports writer.”

If Katie had been drinking, she would have choked. “Not exactly. Is that what your mom told you?”

He nodded.

“I work for the local paper. The
Fool's Gold Daily Republic.
I write the sports page, the occasional op-ed and I've done an emergency feature story when they were desperate. No one's definition of fame.”

“You like what you do. I can hear it in your voice.”

“I do like it.” She found herself staring into his green eyes and wishing she'd listened to her mother sooner. Howie…ah, Jackson…was all that and more. “I've heard you're some kind of impressive computer guy.”

She winced, thinking maybe she should have done a little homework. “You created a program about, um, something business-y.”

The slow, sexy smile returned. “Inventory control. Trust me, you don't want to know the details.”

“Probably not, but it's good someone keeps track of all that inventory stuff. It's wily.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Wily?”

“I studied sports communications, not business.
Wily
is the best I could come up with, under the circumstances. Give me a deadline and I can be much more impressive.”

“Maybe I'm already impressed.”

She wasn't sure if it was the words or the way he said them, but for the first time in a long time, she felt positively girly. If her hair had been a couple of inches longer, she would have been tempted to flip it. As it was, she was grateful her mother had made her wear a sundress instead of jeans and a T-shirt, and that she'd taken the time to brush on mascara and lip gloss.

“You're not what I was expecting,” he continued.

“I know,” she admitted, trying not to flutter her lashes, although the need was powerful. “When my mother suggested you as my emergency date, I wasn't exactly grateful. But I do appreciate you showing up and taking time to help with this.”

“Not a problem.”

“You say that now, but you have no idea what you're in for.” She smiled. “Maybe I should confiscate your car keys before I say any more. So you can't run screaming into the night.”

“That bad?”

“Let's just put it this way, my sister is only happy when there's drama surrounding her and I have an aunt who has a habit of seducing other women's boyfriends and husbands. As I'm sure your mother told you, the groom is my ex-boyfriend. And that's just for starters.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“You have no idea. Want to make a run for it?”

“I can handle it. Do you doubt me?”

Not when he looked at her as if she were something delicious to eat. Which he couldn't possibly be, so it had to be a trick of light. Maybe a problem with his glasses.

“We should, ah, check you into the hotel,” she said. “Have you been to Fool's Gold much in the past few years?”

“Not since our last meeting.”

“But you grew up in Sacramento,” she said. “It's so close.”

“I went the other way after college. Toward the coast.” He glanced around at the lobby. “The resort has a reputation for good skiing in winter.”

“You ski?”

“Some. I like it more than I'm good at it.”

“Me, too,” she said. “It's easier than snowboarding, at least for me. I love trying different sports, but so far I haven't found one I'm very good at.”

She led the way toward the front desk. “There are several excellent runs here during the winter. This time of year, the draw is more hiking and camping. The hotel keeps busy with things like weddings and various theme weekends. They fly in five-star chefs or art experts. That sort of thing. Then people come in from all over to hear lectures or go to demonstrations.”

“You work in travel in your spare time?”

Katie laughed. “I live in town. It's not hard to keep track of what's going on.”

“You grew up here and never wanted to leave?”

She tilted her head, considering. “Not really. I
went to Ashland College and while I loved it, I couldn't wait to get back. Fool's Gold is home for me.”

* * *

Katie spoke with certainty, as if her belief was unshakeable. Jackson had been comfortable growing up in Sacramento, and later at MIT. He'd lived on the East Coast for a while, but when he'd been ready to start his software company, he'd gravitated west. There was something about California.

Now he lived in Los Angeles and while he liked the city, he couldn't say it was home with Katie's obvious passion.

She was nothing he'd expected. There was an energy about her, as if she enjoyed everything she did. Her blue eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor. She was curvy to the point of being a walking, breathing temptation just by standing in the room. There was something about the way she moved—purposeful, with a subtle sexiness that made parts of him grumble hungrily.

At thirteen, she'd terrified him. Fourteen years later, she tempted him, not that he would do anything about it. The daughter of his mother's best friend was completely off-limits. Not only would both mothers want to monitor any potential relationship, he could only imagine what
his
mother would say if she suspected he was about to break the heart of her best friend's daughter.

Too bad, he thought with more than a little regret.

“The family is in a block of rooms,” Katie was saying as they approached the front desk. “However, I made sure you weren't close to them. We don't want Aunt
Tully sneaking into your room at night.” Her smile turned impish. “You're still young enough that the thrill of Aunt Tully might do lasting damage.”

“I don't know if I'm looking forward to meeting her or ready to bolt.”

“I'll protect you.”

He checked in quickly and was handed an old-fashioned key.

“You're through here,” Katie said, pointing to the elevators on the far wall. “Brace yourself because it all starts tonight. There's a party.” She paused and gazed up at him.

“Parties are fine.”

“A fifties-style theme party. A costume has already been delivered to your room.”

A costume party? He could see his mother had left out more than a few details. “Sounds great,” he lied.

She laughed and touched his arm. “Don't worry. It's only a short-sleeved white T-shirt for the guys. Jeans are fine and if you have loafers, all the better.”

“With white socks?”

“That would complete the look.”

Her fingers were warm against his skin. He liked that she was a toucher. It made him want to touch back—to take control of the situation.