The Accidental Boyfriend. Maggie Dallen
raised a hand to interrupt her sister as though Ivy was in the hostel room and not lounging on a veranda in Tuscany with half of Italy waiting on her hand and foot. “I’ve been out in the world, Ivy. I’m not some kid who’s never left Oakdale, okay? I’m older than you.”
“By one year,” Ivy said, most likely out of habit more than anything else. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “What’s this really about, Holiday?”
There it was. Her old nickname, the one that made her feel like a seven-year-old with skinned knees and a deep desire to live in a treehouse. She considered telling her sister about what had happened the year before, the reason she’d returned to Oakdale. But then she pictured Ivy with her big belly and her doting husband and shut her mouth—there was no way she could understand. Ivy might be able to sympathize but she could never understand.
“Listen, I’ve got to get going. Just tell Mom and Dad that I’m in France and I’ll check in every few days so I don’t miss the big announcement, ‘kay? Tell them that I’ll meet up with you all in Italy—”
She heard Ivy start to protest, “Wait, France? But, Holly, Benjamin—”
Holly hung up with a grin. She’d known her sister would argue, it’s what sisters do—especially her sister.
Chapter 2
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