The Third Kiss. Leanna Wilson

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The Third Kiss - Leanna  Wilson

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“Hello, darlin’.”

      Her gaze shifted from the television set to Matt. He saw the spark return to her vibrant blue eyes, and her weathered face creased with a faint smile. “How did it go?” She held out her hand, beckoning him closer. “I want to hear all about it.”

      “In time,” he said, settling himself on the edge of the bed, mindful of the IV tubes. He took her frail hand in his and kissed it. “How are you today, Grandmother? Feeling any better?”

      “Feel just like a pin cushion.”

      “More needles, eh?”

      “Useless waste of time. There’s not a damn thing they can do for old age. Comes a time when a body’s ready to give out.”

      Every one of his muscles tensed, and his heart contracted with fear and worry. “Don’t talk that way, Grandmother. You’re as young as—”

      “An old goat. Don’t fool yourself, Matt, darling. My time’s coming. I’m at peace with it.” She patted his hand as if to soothe him, when it should have been the other way around. “I’m just sad I won’t live long enough to see you married and happy.”

      She said it as if marriage was synonymous with a cheerful state of mind. Which didn’t compute with him.

      “Well, I’m happy,” he said, trying to keep the conversation light. “Happily single. One out of two isn’t bad.”

      The wrinkled skin between her faded brows pinched tight.

      “Don’t you worry. Soon as you’re feeling better you’ll have plenty of time to set me up with more of your friends’ nieces and granddaughters.” She’d been playing matchmaker for years now, and Matt had taken it in stride but at the same time had easily sidestepped matrimony. “I might even surprise everyone and get married one of these days.”

      “You tease.”

      His grandmother was right. He wasn’t looking for a wife. He didn’t have anything against marriage. He simply wanted to be sure a woman wanted him. Not his fortune. Which seemed impossible, especially with the women he’d dated, who were as money hungry as tigers on the prowl.

      Eliza Louise Cutter gave his hand a squeeze. “You’re not happy, Matt. Believe me, if you were to find true love, the way your grandfather and I loved each other, then you’d understand why it’s so important. It will make and keep you young at heart. That’s one reason I’m not afraid to leave this life. At least I’ll be with your grandfather again. My dear, sweet Linc.”

      “Don’t talk that way…”

      She tsked him. “Go ahead and tell me how the big celebration went.”

      He gave a frustrated sigh and wished he could convince her that she had years and years left. It was as if she’d given up! As if she wanted to die. “It was more like an auction. She—”

      “She?”

      “The millionth customer. An exasperating woman if I ever met one. She was giving away all the prizes.”

      “Giving them away?”

      He nodded gravely. “She gave the lifetime supply of jeans to a friend. And she asked for the roadster to be traded for a van so she could give it to an orphanage. Can you believe that?”

      “Sounds like a levelheaded woman. And a generous one.” His grandmother gave an approving nod. She carefully folded back a portion of the white hospital sheet. “Exasperating, huh? I do believe that’s what Linc said about me when we first met. I told you about that, didn’t I?”

      “Once or twice.” He grinned.

      She waved her hand, dismissing her fond memories. “You just don’t like changes. Never have. But maybe it worked out for the best. Maybe this exasperating woman’s generosity will stir up more publicity for the store. And more important, maybe it did a little good for the community.”

      If anyone knew the meaning of generosity, he did. He’d learned it from his grandparents. Where his parents had been selfish, using their millions for indulgences and self-gratifying motives, Eliza and Linc Cutter had given not only gobs of money but gold bullions of time. Matt had been a recipient in more ways than one.

      So why had Brooke Watson’s altruism irritated him? He simply didn’t like it when his plans veered off course.

      He decided to play the devil’s advocate. “It could look as if this woman didn’t like our products. As if our merchandise wasn’t good enough for her.”

      His argument lacked conviction. He hated to admit he’d been impressed with her. Too impressed. Too aroused. Especially when they’d stood toe-to-toe. He didn’t want to think how close he’d come to grabbing her and kissing her. What a headline that would have been!

      “What did she do with the million pennies?” Eliza asked.

      “Hmm?”

      “That exasperating woman,” she quoted him, her mouth lifting in a smile. “What did she do with the million pennies?”

      He shook loose his raging hormones. “She gave them to a local school.”

      He’d anticipated her wanting the money for herself, or maybe even asking for more. But she hadn’t. She’d simply promised the money to a bunch of needy kids.

      His previous annoyance had grudgingly changed to approval. Why had he wanted to dislike Brooke Watson so much? He shrugged off that question, refusing to touch it as if it were the electric fence surrounding Fort Knox.

      “She seems thoughtful and caring,” his grandmother mused. “Sounds like a nice woman. Not exasperating at all.”

      How about irritating, infuriating, maddening? He pictured Brooke. None of those words came to mind. Only beautiful, sexy, tempting. Trouble, he decided.

      “What did she look like?”

      “Hmm?” Her question jarred him from his thoughts.

      A twinkle sparkled in his grandmother’s eye. He wished he could keep that sparkle there and make her want to continue living. “What did she look like?”

      “I can’t really remember, Grandmother.” Actually he couldn’t forget.

      Eliza’s papery brow wrinkled into a frown.

      Immediately he felt a jolt of concern to his heart. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling bad? Do you need a nurse?”

      “No, no, darling. I’m fine. As fine as I can be, confined to this bed. I’m just wishing you could find a woman…someone kind and generous…like that woman who won. But someone who would light your fire.” She waggled her silvery-gray eyebrows.

      “Grandmother!”

      She chuckled softly, then leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes. Faint blue veins made a delicate pattern across her eyelids. “Someday you’ll find her. I just wish I could live long enough to meet the woman who’s going to knock your socks off.”

      “Don’t

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