The Parent Trap

Jill’s face warmed. “I’m afraid we have my daughter to thank for most of it. She’s quite determined, and I’m pretty sure she had some outside help.”

He raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

Jill sighed. “My dad spends a lot of time with Zoe, and he’s…well, he’s an inventor of sorts, and Zoe is really into the whole inventing thing.” Jill accepted that situation because of the good relationship Zoe and her grandpa had. But deep down, it bothered Jill that her daughter was so keen on following in “Wacky” Winters’s footsteps, a path that had been a burden to Jill her whole life.

“So…what?” Brandon threw her a quizzical look. “You think they’re trying to invent a mom and dad by having you and me get together?”

“Pretty much.”

Brandon laughed, a deep rich sound that made goose bumps scatter across Jill’s skin. “Well, I have to hand it to them. They’ve done an amazing job.” He hit her with a crooked grin, his eyes intent on her face, setting off a hot shiver. “If I were in the market for a romance, I’d hire them.”

Jill quickly looked at her plate, ignoring how his simple look lit fires inside her, choosing instead to focus on how much she wanted to ask Brandon why he was so obviously not in the market for a romance. But she held back. That was too personal a question to ask a man she’d just met, even if he did light up her senses and turn her dormant libido back on.

She focused instead on how she appreciated that he was being such a good sport about their scheming daughters. She sneaked a glance at him, also really liking his dark good looks, charming sense of humor and knee-weakening smile.

Before she could go very far with that thought, a loud explosion sounded from out back, rattling the silverware on the table.

Her face heating—darn her dad’s timing—Jill quickly glanced at Brandon, noting with little surprise that his dark eyes were wide with shock.

“What was that?” Brandon asked.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, casually waving a hand in the air, hoping to minimize the whole embarrassing event. “It’s just my dad…inventing in his workshop out back.”

She fiddled with her napkin, praying her dad didn’t follow his usual routine and come inside. The last thing she wanted was for Brandon to meet her eccentric father—many people reacted to his goofy looks with disbelieving laughter—although why she cared at all what Brandon thought was a mystery.

Brandon smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. “Ah, good. I thought maybe an airliner had crashed in the backyard.”

Jill let out a sigh, wishing she could appreciate his joke. “No, no, nothing as dramatic as that. Just my dad doing his thing.” The thing that had set her apart from everybody when she’d been growing up. How many times had other kids teased her because of her dad’s crazy invention antics, chanting “Wacky Winters is so weird,” over and over again? How many times had someone in town laughingly asked how Wacky was, a question that was always followed by something like “Has he blown up anything important yet?”

Right on schedule, she heard the back door open and close. “Jilly,” her dad called. “You here?”

Jill rolled her eyes. Oh, brother. Her dad knew darn well she was here, since he’d undoubtedly been in on the girls’ matchmaking plan. “Yes, Dad,” she replied, resigned to the inevitable introductions—and Brandon’s amusement. “In the dining room.”

A moment later her dad burst through the door into the dining room, his wild gray curly hair sticking out at all angles, his black horn-rimmed glasses—held together with duct tape—askew. Every inch of his six-foot-two-inch frame was covered in black soot and bits of what looked like…bright pink silly string? What in the world had he been doing this time?

He straightened his glasses and smoothed his hair, which didn’t make his kinky hair smooth at all. It just made the top flat and the bottom fluffier. “Sorry for the noise. Just wanted to let you know I’m fine.” His blue eyes caught on Brandon. “Hey, Brandon. Good to see you here.”

Jill pulled in her chin. “You two know each other?”

Brandon nodded and stood. “We met picking the girls up from their Girl Scout meetings.” He thrust out his hand, looking pleased to see her dad again, not a trace of laughter popping from his mouth. “Good to see you, Wacky.”

Her dad wiped his hand on his pants and shook Brandon’s hand. “You, too, Brandon.” He looked at Jill. “I’m not going to interrupt you two anymore, Jilly.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively, a sure sign he’d had a hand in inviting Brandon here this evening. “Gotta go clean up. Send the girls out so I can show them my latest project.” Ever since she was big enough, Zoe had been her grandpa’s assistant; she spent hours hanging out in his lab with him, working on his various projects. She’d become quite the little inventor in her own right. Jill only hoped Zoe would eventually find other interests.

With that, Jill’s dad left the dining room, a long length of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of one shoe.

Jill snorted under her breath. Really attractive, Dad.

Her cheeks fired up again. She fought the desire to drop her head into her hands and scream out her frustration and embarrassment. Not only was she sure her dad had helped the girls with their scheme, acting on his intense but futile desire to see her married again, but he’d pranced into the dining room in his full mad-scientist glory, toilet paper of all things trailing behind him.

Would he never stop embarrassing her?

She mentally noted the need to have a very frank discussion with her dad right away. She knew from experience that nothing she could say would change his wacky personality; his nickname was disgustingly appropriate. But she would darn sure give him a piece of her mind for egging the girls on in the matchmaking department.

Taking a deep breath, she reined in her spiraling emotions. She looked at Brandon, keeping her face deliberately neutral, hoping to downplay her father’s strange behavior. “Sorry about that. I was hoping there wouldn’t be any explosions tonight.”

Brandon grinned and sat back down. “Don’t be sorry. I like him. He’s an original.”

Jill relaxed a bit, loving the fact that he didn’t seem to think her dad was anything unusual. Or if he did, he was graciously keeping that unfortunate information to himself. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“So, does he live with you?” Brandon asked.

Jill cleared her throat. “Kind of. He has an apartment above his laboratory out back.” Jill hadn’t really wanted to live with her dad when she’d moved back to Elm Corners after Doug had left her. After living with her dad’s madcap ways her whole childhood, his crazy, never-know-what-to-expect lifestyle didn’t really appeal to her.

But when he’d suggested she move in to the house, announcing he wanted to live above his lab out back, she’d taken him up on the offer, needing his help with Zoe. She’d also realized that, considering she didn’t have a job when she’d moved, living with him made financial sense. And she had to admit, crazy inventions aside, he was a great grandpa, Zoe adored him and his babysitting help had been invaluable to a single working mom like Jill.

Needing to change the subject from her one-of-a-kind, exasperating dad, she asked Brandon the first question that popped into her head. “So, Brandon. What do you do?” Oh, how she hoped he was in some weird line of work that would cancel out how appealing he was in other ways.

He settled back into his chair. “Well, I was a lawyer when we lived in L.A. But I’ve dumped all that to start my own business.”

“And what kind of business are you starting?” Jill asked, truly interested. For some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, Brandon seemed like the kind of guy who would succeed in anything he did.

“I’m opening a restaurant on Main Street. Maybe you’ve seen the signs.” He leaned forward, his eyes full of undisguised excitement and pride. “It’s called The Steak Place.”

Jill’s stomach dropped. No way!

She stared at him to make sure he wasn’t goofing around. He sat there looking at her, appearing totally serious.

She pressed her lips together and shifted on her chair. Oh, she’d seen the stupid signs, all right, every time she went to work. Brandon was the person who’d taken the lease for the adjoining space right out from under her nose!

Her cheeks blazed to life. Well, hurray. It looked as if her wish had come true. His line of work was unappealing.

He was her competitor, someone who could spell disaster for not only her livelihood, but also her plans to be a successful, well-respected businesswoman.

Put simply, he was a man she wished had never come to town.

Chapter Two

“Your cheeks are all red,” Brandon said, his deep voice laced with obvious concern. “What’s wrong?”

Jill snapped her gaze to him, her face still blazing, her thoughts racing. Well, la-di-da. Looked as if she was going to be able to drop a bomb of her own. Brandon obviously had no clue that she owned the restaurant next door to his. “Has Kristy told you what I do for a living?” she asked.

He drew his eyebrows together. “Uh, well…no, I guess not.”

Jill rolled her eyes and let out an under-the-breath snort. Zoe and Kristy hadn’t let either of them in on the fact that they were business competitors of the first degree. Wait till she got her hands on Zoe!

“I own The Wildflower Grill, the other restaurant on Main Street,” she informed him.

For a moment the truth didn’t faze Brandon. Then understanding dawned in his eyes. “Oh,” he said. “So we’re…competitors.”