“You’re perceptive.”
“Could say the same about you.” Not once had anyone ever figured out what she’d been doing for a hobby. Even when she’d been incredibly obvious about it.
“I’m not here for me,” he said. “So don’t be gettin’ any ideas. If it were up to me, I’d be halfway back to Alabama by now.”
“Just here for moral support, then?” she asked.
“That… and, well, I don’t want Bells with just anyone.” The doors started to close, and he pressed up against them again to keep the elevator from going anywhere. “She begged me to come up here. Wants to meet her one and only, but doesn’t want to just fall for the first guy who shows an interest.”
“So, you’re playing referee.”
“One way of putting it, I guess.” The doors moved again. The muscles in his arms flexed, and Winter couldn’t help but admire the veins that popped up along his biceps. “But she’s why I’m here. And I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important to her.”
Winter blinked up to his blue eyes, smiling at the sincerity there, the protectiveness and love for his sister resting just behind the annoyance of being in the middle of a murder mystery he wanted no part of. An empty throb ran across her heart, a subtle green wave of jealousy washing over her. She’d always wanted someone to love her like that—not as an employer or co-star or whatever other title she held, but as family.
“Okay,” she said, agreeing to she didn’t know what—to take this match as seriously as possible, maybe?
He let out a small laugh and pushed the door open again. “Not sure if you get what I’m sayin’.”
“Maybelle needs to be matched with a good guy.” She reached up and patted his sturdy shoulder. “I got it.”
“We got it.”
She felt a wrinkle in the middle of her forehead. “Huh?”
The door rattled again, and instead of fighting it, he simply stepped back inside, his body coming so close she had to take a step back to catch her breath. “I know you been doin’ this a while, but this is my sister. And if she’s willing to do something like this…” He gestured around them, like the entire mansion was something to be scoffed at instead of appreciated. Winter felt her wall of defense snap back into place, and she crossed her arms and set her jaw. Will put his hands up. “Look, I just wanna make sure we get it right.”
“So you want to help.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” She could be snappy with him, too. Silly, unappreciative man.
“I know Bells.” He ran a hand over his chin. “And believe me, if I wasn’t takin’ this seriously, I wouldn’t have said anything to you. But you’re a professional. You do know what you’re doing. I just want to be involved, is all.” He grinned, taking a step back and relaxing against the doors. “It might make this trip go by faster, too.”
She shook her head. “So eager to go home.”
“Yes,” he said unabashedly. She wondered what was so great about Alabama. It almost had her planning a trip just to see what the big deal was.
She took a deep breath, running her hands up and down her arms, suddenly aware of how cold she was. Her dress for lunch didn’t have any sleeves, either. She might have to find a shawl or something.
Her eyes flicked to the watch on his wrist, and she got lost in the dark hair of his arm, the roughness of his hands, how they must be the result of hard work.
Her eyes went back to his before she even realized she hadn’t been paying attention enough to notice the time.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, holding up a finger. “On one condition.”
“Shoot.”
She smiled wide and batted her eyelashes. “You have to at least pretend you like it here.”
He laughed as he reached behind him and clicked the five button, and the doors opened right up. “You show me a kitchen, and I will feel right at home.”
Then the doors closed, and Winter took a breath, deflating against the wall with a smile. She hadn’t realized how fast her heart was beating until she put a hand to her neck and counted the beats. She thought about Will’s adorable laugh the whole way up to her room. He wanted a kitchen? Well, she sure had one to show him.
Will stepped onto the terrace, the smell of fresh BBQ hitting his nose and making him drool on the spot. He had to hand it to the chef of this place; they sure knew their stuff. Will’s specialty was pizza, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t dabbled in many other areas before he settled on one.
Bells was already there—of course—chatting with a man—of course—who looked about ten years younger than her and could rival her on how lethal his hands were while talking. His arms flailed like they were landing a plane, and Bells would match it with her response. Everyone within a five-foot radius was keeping an eye out.
Will made his way over to the buffet-style lunch and grabbed a plate. His stomach jolted with excitement, grumbling its approval as he scooped up a couple of pulled pork sandwiches, a glob of potato salad, and a bag of Frito Lays. He skipped the fruit and veggie tray and went straight for the drinks at the end of the table, grabbing a large bottle of Dr. Pepper. It wouldn’t be his last one either; Dr. Pepper was his drug of choice.
He’d been too focused on the food to notice where everyone was sitting—which was everywhere—and he held his food like a lost kid in a middle school cafeteria searching for someone acceptable to eat with. Bells was occupied—and was bound to whack his plate clean from his grasp with her wild hands—and when he spotted Winter at the bar, a flat screen lit up behind her with March Madness on, he started over. But he stopped halfway when he noticed every seat over there was taken.
Maybe he’d eat standing. He was used to eating like that anyhow.
“William!” he heard from the far corner of the terrace. Ms. Vancouver waved her well-manicured hand in the air, a bright smile on her face. “Come sit next to me, sugar.”
He smirked at the pet name. She was older, so she could get away with stuff like that.
He headed over, catching Winter’s gaze as he went. She’d changed from her camo pants and was now in a light blue dress that hugged her chest and came to just above the knee. Her smooth, long legs were crossed at the ankles, her shoes abandoned on the deck below her high bar stool. He lost his footing staring at her instead of where he was going, but luckily his food didn’t go flying—only his ego.
Ms. Vancouver moved her shawl from the empty lounge chair next to her and patted the cushion. “There you go, hun. Keep me company.”
“I’m surprised this seat wasn’t already snagged,” he said, slouching back into its comfort. “Who’d pass up sitting next to a pretty lady like yerself?”
She put a light hand to her chest. “That charm will get you a long way in this world, my dear. You keep that up, now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and then took a generous bite of his sandwich. A moan fell from his mouth with ease.
“Oh, it’s delicious, isn’t it?” she said.
“Heaven sent.”
“Only the best for our princess and her parties. Even after the tragedy of yesterday.”
His heart sank some. Ms. Vancouver wasn’t a real person, only a character. But he was determined not to let it bug him too much; this trip would go by a lot faster if he wasn’t griping about every little thing.
“Truly tragic,” he said, really getting into the act of it. “Will there be a funeral?”
She nodded. “This Thursday.” Then she leaned in. Will wiped his mouth, knowing pork was probably stuck somewhere in his beard. It was probably time for a trim. “And between you and me,” she said, “I think there better be an investigation as well.”
“Murder?” he asked, his mouth gaping wide in exaggeration, surprise hitting him that he was actually enjoying this crazy act. “No…”
“Yes,” she whispered. “And I don’t think Joshua was the target.”
He gasped loud, almost choking himself on the pu
lled pork. He took a quick swig of his Dr. Pepper. “You think someone’s after Winter?”
“Princess Winter.” She leaned back into her seat, and Will followed suit, gazing up at the sunny day, even though the bite in the air was still enough for him to wear a jacket… or two. “And yes, I’d bet my life on it. There are a few… questionable people in her life.”
“Like that Michael fella?” Will’s eyes swept over the terrace again, looking for the big guy who really couldn’t be missed. But he couldn’t find him.
“You’ve noticed?” she said, then took a dainty sip from her mimosa. She smacked her lips before continuing. “He still can’t get over her. And seeing her inherit so much money so young… He thought for sure he’d be a part of it.”
“So he’d resort to murder?”
She lifted a shoulder, tilting her head back and forth. There was a glint of amusement in her eye, and for a moment, Will thought that maybe the real person was shining through—an actress who had the time of her life here. A grin teased at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, but I trust him more than I trust that James. He’s the one you really should watch out for.”
Will ate the rest of his food while Ms. Vancouver dished out gossip on each suspect, all except herself. He wondered if gossip was in her character description or if she really just enjoyed talking to him. Either way, he was all right with it.
Bells laughed from across the terrace, and Will cranked his neck to try to get a glimpse of her. Garreth again—she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, no doubt. Will shared a glance with Winter, both of them making a nonverbal pact to check into that.
He grabbed his empty Dr. Pepper and plate and waited for a break in Ms. Vancouver’s gossipy monologue to get up.
“Oh, you can leave those there, sugar,” she said when he stood with his dishes. “They’ll take care of it.” She waved to an invisible staff. He was fine taking care of his own plate, but he also understood the importance of his role as a guest, too. Let people do their jobs, and thank them graciously for it.
He put his plate down on the side table next to hers and nodded. “Thank you for the company, ma’am.”
“I look forward to the next time.” She air-kissed at him, and he chuckled. She reminded him of Bonnie Baker back home, an elderly flirt who made her way into his pizza shop every other Sunday just to offer up constructive criticism and compliment his butt every time he bent over.
He was almost to Bells when a sweet-looking brunette popped from outta nowhere and started talkin’ to him.
“You!” she said, and Will jolted back at the sheer volume that came out of such a small woman. “I haven’t spoken with you yet.”
He shook off his surprise. “No, I don’t believe you have.”
“Oh, a southern man. How in the world do you know the princess?” She blinked a set of small, dainty green eyes and held up a notepad, the pen poised and waiting for his response.
“Um, same as you, Miss.” His gaze flicked to the way her hand flew across the paper without her even looking at it. “I’m a guest here.”
“Hmmm,” she murmured. “Interesting. A few of you are posing as guests, huh? Trying to throw us off?” She stopped writing and yelled over her shoulder, “Hey, Garreth! He’s a”—she tucked her notepad under her arm and exaggerated air quotes—“guest.”
Garreth gave the girl a look like the light had just gone on upstairs while Bells shared a glance with Will like both their light bulbs had gone out.
“That’s my brother, there,” he heard Bells say from across the terrace.
Garreth gaped at her and took a step back. “You’re acting in this, too?”
Will let out a bolting laugh that caught the attention of every person still eating lunch. He peered at the notepad in the brunette’s hands, columns and rows and boxes drawn with each suspect and how they were connected to Winter scrawled in different colors. She really was taking this thing seriously.
“You think I’m part o’ the act, don’t you, Miss?”
She put a note next to WEIRD MAN AT DINNER. He had to laugh again at that one.
“Look, promise you, I’m just here to enjoy the show like everyone else.”
“Okay,” she said, but she wrote that down, too. REFUSES TO ADMIT TO ANY AFFILIATION TO THE PRINCESS.
He looked up at Bells, who seemed to be doing the exact same explaining to Garreth. He’d better get over there and set the record straight. His behavior last night probably looked completely scripted, when really, he’d been outta his dang mind.
The brunette started toward Ms. Vancouver, her pen still scribbling across the notepad as she looped through cushioned chairs and group conversations. Will’s eyes followed her until she passed Winter, and they stayed right on her as Winter pushed herself off the barstool and headed toward him, barefoot and urgent.
“Follow me,” she said as she passed, and he checked on Bells one more time before making his way to the other far corner of the terrace where there sat a wall-length waterfall.
“Okay,” she said when they were out of earshot, “if you’re done flirting, I’ll give you a rundown of what I’ve got so far.”
“Flirting?”
“There’s Dave,” she said, pulling him down to sit beside her and pointing at a shorter guy wearing a baseball cap that Will would bet his life savings covered absolutely no hair. “He’s a dispatcher from a small town in Ohio,” she continued. “He loves it there, and he’s kinda quiet, keeps to himself. Sweet and kind; one of my kitchen staff dropped a tray filled with empty glasses, and he dove right in to make sure the server was all right and if he needed help cleaning up.”
“Any decent fella would do that,” Will said.
Winter gave him a look. “You’d be surprised.” A small wrinkle near her left eye appeared for just a split second before smoothing back into the paleness of her skin. “He’s also a self-proclaimed nerd. Plays D&D, cosplays, and is the founder of the singles group that was initially supposed to be a trivia team, but apparently it got so popular that they do all sorts of things now. Like murder mysteries.”
She cackled to herself, but Will wrinkled his nose.
“Next.”
She gasped and put a hand to her chest. “What’s wrong with nerds?”
“Nothing.” He honestly could give the guy major props, holding a decent job and doing so much with his spare time to not only benefit himself, but other people like him. “But Bells won’t go for it.”
“Not even after getting to know him?”
He tried to picture his sister spending every weekend at home playing games, and he had to stifle a laugh at the image. “Bells is a social butterfly who needs someone who’s gonna keep up with her.”
“Or maybe she needs someone who will reel her in.”
Will snorted, almost leaning back right into the waterfall. “Good luck with that.”
She harrumphed, the sound endearing from someone who looked so sweet. “Fine, next…” Her eyes drifted around the deck before landing on another guy Will hadn’t met yet. Back home he was as social as they come, but stick him somewhere outside state lines, and he closed up like a clam.
“That’s Eric,” she said, nodding toward a bespectacled man who was about the same height as Will. He wore a pink polo shirt that made Will automatically think country club.
“He’s a middle school teacher—”
“Brave man.”
“Yes. And he’s got two dogs, both huge breeds. One’s a boxer mix and the other is a Great Dane. He got them both as pups and now they are service dogs.”
“For what exactly?”
She tilted her head. “I didn’t think to ask.” Her hand fell onto his arm for a brief moment. “Oh! And he sings. Like, he’s really good.”
“You know all this in one day?”
She turned to him, her eyes lifting up to meet hers while a crimson wave ran over her cheeks. “I do my research.”
“I’ll say.” He chuckled, then n
odded toward Garreth, who was now talking to the girl who was thoroughly convinced Will was a hired actor. “Anything on our friend over there?”
“Ah, yes… Garreth.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “He has a desk job during the day, but moonlights as a DJ. He seems fun, definitely handsome.”
A pin pricked Will just above the eye, making it twitch. “That’s all you got? He’s good lookin’, so there ya have it?” He waved his arm out. “You got all this dirt on Middle School Joe, but not on the guy Bells has been stuck to like glue since we got here.”
She let out a half laugh. “Gosh, you’re crabby.”
He jolted back. “What?”
“Or maybe you’re just being too protective over your sister?” She crossed her arms, her nails slightly grazing his elbow as she did so. “I gave you information on two men who are ready to settle down, men her age, and, well, you’re being a bit judgmental about it.”
He backed tracked. “I was just asking about the guy she’s been talkin’ about.”
Her shoulders relaxed a bit, and her gaze went back to Garreth, who was now laughing hysterically at the shape of the lemon wedge after he’d squeezed it into his drink. The alcohol must be kicking in.
“I don’t want to just match her with anyone,” she said after a moment.
“Neither do I.”
“Maybe if you could let me know a bit more about her…”
“I can do that.” He offered up a grin. She was right; he was being overprotective. “What d’ya wanna know?”
“Anything.” She turned on the bench, tucking her bare feet up under her and facing him dead on. “Everything.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm. Matchmaking might not be in his wheelhouse, but family certainly was.
Pops and pings from boiling sauces on the stove filled the air as Winter walked from dish to dish, spoon in hand, ready to try everything before it was sent out for dinner.
“What a day,” she said, her smile big as she dunked her spoon into the crispy layer of cheese on the jalapeño dip. It was the perfect blend of crunchy and smooth, spicy and sweet. She held up an okay sign to her chef, Kasey, her eyes rolling back into her head as she went for another bite.