You Were Meant For Me (Wishful 10)

“Yep. Born and raised. Came back after grad school. I’m an architect.” These were the identifying personal details they’d carefully avoided. All the usual get to know each other stuff they’d skipped right over.

Her eyes brightened with interest and she shifted toward him, those tight-knit hands loosening. “Commercial or residential?”

“Some of both.”

“And you can actually make a career at that in a place this small?”

Every cell in his body wanted to lean toward her, but he crossed his leg instead, slouching back in the chair and drumming restless fingers on the arm. “I work on projects all over the country. Some of that requires travel, but mostly I can design from anywhere, so I choose to do that from home. What about you? You’re part of the family business, obviously.”

“With the exception of this project I’ve been managing in London, I’m based in Denver.”

Tap. Tap. Tap. “This your first time in Mississippi?”

“It is. I never had reason to come here before.”

Tap tap. Tap tap. “I guess with your dad moving here, you’ll be here again in the future?” God, he hoped he didn’t sound as pathetic and desperate as he felt asking that question.

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

As they got called to dinner and Mitch held out a hand to help Tess up, he reflected that at least she hadn’t said an outright no. He could work with that.

Chapter 3

Somehow Tess made it through dinner without falling asleep in her plate, throwing herself at Mitch to beg his forgiveness, or otherwise saying anything that revealed their intimate association. She was calling it a win. As soon as dessert was cleared, she pushed back from the table. “This was delicious, and it was wonderful to meet all of you, but I am literally dying of jet lag right now, so I’d really like to head on to the hotel.”

Sandy exchanged a look with Trey. “Oh, we thought you’d stay here with us.”

Even in her state of exhaustion, Tess knew she’d offended the other woman and scrambled to find something appropriate to say that would make this better. Because she couldn’t stay here in this house, watching the two of them making googly eyes at each other. “I really appreciate the offer, but I have work I need to get to early in the morning, and I was just going to hijack Dad’s office at The Babylon rather than disturb anybody.”

Trey shoved back his own chair. “I’ll drive you into town.”

Mitch leaned over to grab empty dessert plates and pile them into a stack. “I can drive her. I need to head right by there on the way to my house.”

Tess knew her role in this. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“No trouble,” he said easily.

“That’s very kind of you. I’d appreciate it.”

Nobody fought about it, and she didn’t think anybody even looked at them crossways. Which was how she found herself tucked into the front seat of Mitch’s truck as he pulled away from the curb fifteen minutes later, bracing herself for the confrontation that had been building for the last two hours. She had no idea how this was going to go. She deserved whatever anger or accusations he wanted to throw her way. She’d snuck out on him like a coward in the night, after the most profound sexual experience of her life. Because it hadn’t been just sex. It had been lovemaking. Intimacy at the purest level, and way the hell more than either of them had agreed to with their no strings fling. It had scared the shit out of her.

“I’m so fucking happy to see you.”

His voice was full of such unmitigated joy, she snapped her head toward him. Mitch glanced at her, and even in the waning light she could see he wasn’t angry. The relief of that bled through her, loosening the knots that had slowly been tightening in a noose around her heart since she walked out on that patio. Free of prying eyes, Tess shifted in her seat to drink him in. Her fingers itched to tunnel into that thick blond hair with just a little wave. The golden scruff of his five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw, and there were faint shadows beneath his eyes, as if he hadn’t been resting any better than she had. His broad shoulders filled out the Oxford cloth shirt, and the muscles in his forearms stood out in stark relief against his rolled-up sleeves as he gripped the steering wheel. Even with the signs of strain, just looking at him had pleasure and joy coursing through her.

“I’m happy to see you, too. Surprised, but happy.”

Mitch snorted a laugh and a dimple winked in his cheek, making her heart flip. God, she’d missed that dimple. “I don’t think surprised even begins to cover it. So maybe we can start with some of the essentials we avoided in Scotland. You’re Tess Peyton. Not Anna.”

“Teresa Anne, actually. My mother’s middle name is Anna.”

“I get the no last name thing. But why give me a different first name?”

Tess blew out a breath. “Nothing about that week was something Tess Peyton could or would do. Because, as I said, all of my actions prospectively reflect back on the company. I wanted the chance to be someone else, who didn’t have the burden of all those expectations. I wanted someone to look at me as me first and not Tess Peyton at all. And at the time, I didn’t think it would matter because I hadn’t planned on more than one night. And then…”

“The best laid plans,” he murmured.

“Oh, I’m sure Robert Burns is having a grand laugh at my expense from beyond the grave. Because I plan everything. I’m always, always in control.” She liked the comfort of routine and predictability. Preferred to know exactly what was happening when. It didn’t take a therapist to point out that was a defense mechanism she’d developed as a kid, when her parents had divorced and she’d had no control.