When You Kiss Me (Maine Sullivans) (The Sullivans Book 21) Read online

  Duncan sensed it wouldn’t be easy to earn her trust. At the same time, he could imagine just how good it would feel to know that Lola trusted him.

  And to be able to trust her with everything he’d kept inside for so long, all his dark secrets…

  “Irish steak with potato scones is my one and only specialty,” she told him. “My mom makes everything else better. But I’m glad you like it.” She took another bite and made her own sound of satisfaction. “I love teaching, but at the same time it’s pretty exhausting. This was exactly what I needed to get my energy back.”

  They ate in greedy silence for a few minutes. Finally, he was replete enough to say, “You’ve told me about four older siblings so far. Are you the fifth?”

  “Nope. My brother Turner is eighteen months older than me. He’s an animator who’s worked on a ton of movies. I’m sure you’ve seen at least one of them, but suffice it to say he’s really good at what he does. He’s also the mellowest of all seven of us. Although,” she added with a sparkle to her eyes, “there’s a part of me that wouldn’t be surprised to find out he has a secret life none of us knows anything about.” He was glad to see that talking about her family had made her relax again. “I was born next. And then last, but not at all least, is Ashley. We’re a little more than a year apart, so we’re super close. Her son, Kevin, is eleven, and I adore him to bits. His father, however, who was barely more than a sperm donor, is a total waste of space.” She whipped out her phone to show Duncan the promised pictures of Ruby and Kevin, who were both cute kids. “And that,” she said with a flourish as she put away her phone, “is the long and winding list of my immediate family.” She pointed her fork at him. “Your turn. Do you have any siblings?”

  “One brother who’s ten years older.” He worked to keep his expression and tone even. “His name is Alastair. He also lives in Boston.”

  Duncan had never told anyone about how everything he’d once believed to be true about his brother had turned out to be a lie. No one except the lawyers, who had ended up being as dirty as his brother. But Duncan was surprised to find he wanted to talk to Lola about it.

  He’d met her only this morning. And yet, he felt such a strong connection with her. Of course he was attracted to her. What red-blooded man wouldn’t be? But what she made him feel went so much further than just desire.

  “What about your parents?” she asked, probably wondering why he wasn’t already offering up the information. “Cousins? Aunts and uncles?”

  He shook his head. “My parents died in a small plane crash when I was six. I have no other living family on either side. It’s just me and my brother.”

  “Oh, Duncan.” Her face was wreathed in sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t really remember my mother and father.” His father had been too busy with his illustrious career to pay much attention to his second son, and according to his brother, their mother had been little more than a trophy wife. All Duncan remembered about her was that she hadn’t been warm and sunny like Beth Sullivan. “My brother raised me. He also brought me into the family business after I graduated from college.”

  “Wow, he sounds amazing.”

  Duncan tensed in his seat despite trying to stay at ease. “He did a lot for me.” That much was indisputable, given that Alastair had made sure neither of them ended up in foster care. He’d also taught Duncan how to ride a bike, and swim, and sail a boat. But after his brother had twisted up everything with his crimes, Duncan hadn’t been certain if his good memories were actually even true. “We don’t work together anymore. I left his company five years ago to start my own.” But Duncan wasn’t here to moan and groan about his life. And no matter how much he wished otherwise, this meal they were having together wasn’t a date. He took the opportunity to say, “I’d love to hear more about your business. When did you first become interested in textile design?”

  Though her eyebrows rose at his abrupt change of subject, she didn’t push him for more information about his brother. “I majored in art and design in college. There wasn’t a specific major for textile design, but my professors were happy to help me craft one. I created my first fabric line as part of my senior thesis project. Fortunately, I had also taken a few classes at the business school on marketing and sales, so by the time I graduated, I was ready to roll with my own company. I’ve dabbled a little bit in fashion design, but textiles are where my true passion lies, so that’s where I’ve decided to keep my focus from now on. My sales and retail contracts have grown in a slow and steady way, and though I don’t have anyone on payroll, I work with a handful of freelance contractors.”

  “I’m extremely impressed with what you’ve built,” he said, “and I’m positive that with the right investor behind you, your business could grow very quickly.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not interested in working with any investors.”

  He’d rarely met anyone who wasn’t interested in selling more and making more money. “Why not?”

  Her expression clouded over. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that my mother’s best friend from when they were growing up in Ireland—a woman I think of as my second mom—had a terrible experience with investors. They promised her the world, then turned around and dropped her cold, but only after convincing her to part with her savings first. Mom and I are sure the stress from it all was instrumental in her breast cancer diagnosis.”

  His heart was in his throat. Everything Lola was saying hit so close to home. Too close. He hated knowing how many entrepreneurs signed bad deals and ended up losing everything they’d worked so hard to create. “Is she all right?”

  Thankfully, Lola nodded. “It was a long road of surgery, chemo, and radiation, and we all pitched in to help, but it was another huge setback on top of her business faltering. The most amazing part of the story, though, is how she’s always insisted that it’s a waste of time to wish she could go back into the past and change things, and that it’s far better to accept things as they are and move forward from where she is now.”

  It was a concept that Duncan had spent five years trying to wrap his head around, with limited success. He would give anything to go back in time and change things. To clearly see everything he hadn’t wanted to believe could be true. Simply trying to make good decisions from here on out didn’t seem like enough.

  “I’m sorry to hear about everything your friend went through. That’s exactly the kind of business practice I most abhor.”

  She smiled. “Well, I’m glad to hear that there are some good venture capitalists out there. Speaking of which, what exactly is it that you invest in?”

  “Anyone whose ideas have promise, ranging from pioneering work with renewable resources in fashion, to environmentally friendly farming and food production techniques, to building new and better prosthetics for children.”

  “You must sleep really well at night.”

  He wished he did. “I like the people I work with.” He had completely changed his focus after starting his own fund. While profits mattered, helping good people mattered more. “And I like knowing I’m supporting businesses that will in turn support others.”

  “Plus, you have cartography.” Before he could remind her that it was just a hobby, she asked, “Do you have any photos of maps you’ve drawn? I’d love to see them if you do.”

  He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture. “A friend of mine from college was born and raised in Paris. I knew how much she missed it, so I made this map for her.”

  “Duncan…” Lola looked up from his phone. “This is so much more than just a map.” She studied it, using her fingers on the screen to enlarge the sections she wanted to see more clearly. “You’ve not only drawn the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, the Bois de Boulogne—but this border decoration is also incredible.”

  No one’s praise had ever felt so good, or meant so much to him. “I took inspiration for the border from eighteenth-century French maps.”


  Her eyes suddenly went wide. “I assumed you’d drawn this map on paper. But is it actually on vellum?”

  He nodded. “It wasn’t easy to get the inks to stick.”

  “I’ve never been patient enough to work with vellum,” she told him. And then, “Just as I thought during class, you don’t need me to teach you anything. This map is a work of art. I recently read an article about how the market for old maps is booming. You could make a living doing this.”

  Though he wanted to bask in the glow of her confidence in his artistic abilities, he simply smiled and reminded her, “It’s just a hobby. I’m not an artist.”

  “You are,” she insisted, her eyes lit with passion. Passion he had already become addicted to, though they hadn’t so much as touched. “In addition to selling originals at galleries and taking commissions from individual buyers, you could draw maps of your favorite places and sell signed prints from your website.”

  He held up his hands. “Whoa…still just a venture capitalist here.”

  “No,” she said with a firm shake of her head, “you’re so much more than that. While I think you are doing amazing things for the companies you’re supporting with your investment firm, you have real talent. Talent I would hate to see wasted.” She leaned forward over the table, so close that he could see a flush of excitement on her cheekbones. “You can’t honestly tell me you haven’t thought about trying to squeeze in more time for your art, can you?”

  He surprised himself by saying, “Secretly, I have.” There was no one else he would admit this to. But Lola made him want to open up in a way he hadn’t opened up to anyone in years. Certainly not since his trust had been betrayed by the one person he’d trusted above all others. “That’s why I’m glad I had the opportunity to learn from you today. And I have recently hired someone at a high level to help me run the company, although her role is to work alongside me, rather than replace me.”

  “But if she ended up doing a really great job with your clients,” Lola said, “wouldn’t that mean you could give your other dreams some room to breathe?”

  Yearning filled him. Yearning that he’d squashed down and done his level best to ignore for decades. Because while spending time drawing maps was something he had longed for since he was a child, for the first thirty years of his life, he’d done whatever he could to make his family proud. And then for the last five years, he’d been hell-bent on trying to right his family’s wrongs. It wasn’t until today, when Gail had sent him to Bar Harbor to learn drawing skills from a brilliant and beautiful woman, that he’d been able to give in to his own dreams for a short while.

  He was on the verge of rejecting Lola’s suggestion when it hit him. Maybe they could make a trade? “How about I agree to mull over your suggestion…if you agree to mull over mine about opening yourself to the potential upsides of working with an investor? An honest one, rather than a crook, whom I would personally vet for you.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “I should have seen that coming.” She thought about it before replying. “Normally, I would never agree to think about taking on an investor, but since I really do think you should be spending more time on cartography, I’ll make an exception. Let’s shake on it.”

  She held out her hand. And when he clasped it in his, there was no other way to describe the sensation than as pure electricity.

  Both of them stopped. Held on.

  It could have been awkward, or maybe even funny.

  Instead, it felt like everything.

  For a few moments, they simply kept holding on, staring into each other’s eyes. Moments that meant so damned much, more than anything in Duncan’s life ever had before.

  “Do you—”

  “What if we—”

  They both spoke at once. Laughing, Lola said, “Do you need to get back to Boston right away? Or is there any way you might—”

  “I can stay.”

  She gave him a look of unfettered joy—exactly what he was feeling himself. Had anyone in his life ever looked at him like that? If so, he couldn’t remember it.

  Because all he could see, all he could feel, all he wanted was Lola.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lola had never been so impulsive before.

  All her life, she’d been running from men who were trying to catch her. Until today, when she’d finally met the one she wanted to run toward.

  When Duncan looked at her, he seemed to actually see her. He asked her questions he seemed to want to know the answers to, when every other guy only pretended to listen to get her into bed. She also loved how ethical Duncan was in his work and how he didn’t brag about his success or wealth.

  She should have been scared about throwing caution to the wind and risking her heart on a man she’d met only that morning. But with Duncan, even her wildest dreams suddenly seemed possible.

  And she’d never know for sure if he could be The One unless she risked everything tonight on her heart—and his too.

  She waited for the little voice in her head to pop up with a warning. He’s too good to be true. You should be careful.

  But that voice didn’t come.

  Amazingly, when she was with Duncan, her fears, her worries, her beliefs that she was never going to find the person she was destined to be with disappeared.

  “Tell me everything,” she said. “And don’t leave anything out.”

  “Right now,” he replied in his deep, sexy voice, “everything can be summed up by telling you that I’ve never felt this happy in my whole life.”

  There was nothing better, nothing nicer he could have said. “I feel the same way.”

  Unfortunately, the chiming of the clock at City Hall reminded her that they were counting down to his return to Boston. “When is your flight?”

  “Eight o’clock tonight.” He looked at his watch. “But even if I left now, I wouldn’t make it in time.” His gaze was intense as he looked back up at her. “I believe there’s another flight out at seven in the morning, though, so I wouldn’t need to leave for the airport until four a.m. That is, if you want me to stay?”

  She sucked in a breath. The idea of Duncan staying all night was wonderful.

  It was also terrifying.

  As if he could read her mind, he said, “I would never pressure you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. I can find a hotel room in town for the rest of the night.”

  But she didn’t want that. She wanted him in her home. Her bed. As soon as possible.

  “I don’t want you to stay in a hotel.” Her heart was pounding wildly, as though she’d just asked him to marry her instead of simply inviting him back to her cottage for the night. “I meant it when I said I want to get to know you better. And…” She took a breath. “I know we’ve only just met, but I can’t help wanting you to get to know me better too.” Right from that moment in class when he’d asked her to tell him her secrets, it had felt like he’d been asking about more than just calligraphy pens. It had felt like he’d been looking all the way down into her soul—just the way he was now.

  His answering smile only made her heart beat faster. She’d never known a smile could be so sensual. And when he stroked his thumb across the sensitive skin of her palm, it sent shivers—of heat, not cold—through her. “Anything you want to tell me about yourself, Lola, I want to hear.”

  She should have been second-guessing her impulse to share her secrets with him. But she felt calm, steady, and surprisingly sure that she should tell him something she’d held inside for years. “When I was a freshman in college, I dated a guy who was the same age as my parents. He was a businessman in New York, but he was often in Bar Harbor seeing clients. I knew my dad would totally freak if he found out, so I refused to let anyone take pictures of us in case they ended up online. I didn’t even tell my sisters, so they wouldn’t accidentally let it slip.”

  Duncan didn’t seem taken aback by the age difference, although he did ask, “Was he good to you?”

  She’d never told anyone the truth
about her relationship with Frank before. How could she when she hadn’t been able to confess to even having the relationship, let alone talk with anyone about how bad it was?

  “Not really.” Her next words came out in a rush, as though they’d been waiting all these years for the chance to be spoken. “Frank said all the right things and made me think he actually cared about me, when the truth was that he just wanted what every other guy wants…” She let her words fall away, but Duncan’s expression had already darkened.

  “Did he hurt you?” Duncan’s question vibrated with barely quenched fury at this man he’d never met, and likely never would.

  She swallowed hard. “Frank wasn’t physically abusive, but…” He’d gotten inside her head with his constant comments about how sexy she was when she dressed in the extremely revealing clothes he bought her—and how nothing she’d ever achieve in life could possibly triumph over the face and body she’d been given. He’d made her feel like she was nothing more than a sex toy. An object to be bent and shaped to his needs, her own needs be damned. “I was still so young.” Young enough not to realize that his “compliments” were actually meant to demean her so that she’d cling to him and look to him for guidance on how to live her life. “I didn’t know how to stand up for myself. All I knew was that he seemed smart and powerful, and I couldn’t believe he actually wanted to be with me.”

  “Lola.” Duncan hadn’t let go of her hand and now he squeezed it tightly. “You can’t blame yourself for dating him. He’s the one to blame for not treating you right. Hell, you were only eighteen years old. He should have stayed away from you.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “He should have. And once I finally figured that out, after he told me I should drop out of school to live with him in New York and be a sexy trophy on his arm, I broke up with him.” The relationship had only lasted a few months, but the emotional scars of wondering if she really was only a pretty face had remained for a long time afterward. “It took realizing he didn’t actually care about me or my future to finally knock sense into me. And,” she added, “when he didn’t seem to want to let me go, I started taking Krav Maga classes, just in case he, or some other guy in the future, didn’t want to take no for an answer.”