Chapter Four
Kenneth Fortunado tapped his champagne flute with a table knife. The ping, ping, ping of metal on crystal silenced the small gathering of family and friends, whom he’d summoned to the impromptu afternoon barbecue.
Maddie Fortunado shivered as a frisson of anticipation spiraled through her.
A champagne toast at a barbecue. It can only mean one thing.
Finally.
She’d been dreaming of this day.
“Does everyone have a glass of bubbly?” Kenneth asked. “I have a special announcement.”
Maddie plucked a flute off the tray of a passing server and turned expectantly toward her father. Catching his eye, she checked her posture and held her glass high. He flashed her a knowing smile and lifted his flute to her in a private cheers, before surveying the small crowd he’d gathered on the back terrace of the Fortunado estate.
“Barbara?” he called. “Barbara, where are you? Where is my lovely wife?”
Her mother did indeed look lovely in her powder-blue sweater set, which she’d paired with ivory silk trousers and her signature double strand of pearls. Barbara waved from the back of the terrace where she appeared to be giving the caterer last-minute instructions.
“Barbara, dear,” Kenneth said. “Please join me.”
Demonstrating that a Southern woman neither rushed nor allowed herself to be rushed, Barbara held up a ladylike index finger, signaling to Kenneth that she’d be there in a moment, and continued her business with the chef.
Maddie allowed her gaze to meander over to her coworker Zach McCarter, who was talking to her sisters, Schuyler and Valene, and Schuyler’s fiancé as everyone waited for Kenneth and Barbara to share their big news. Her toes curled in her navy Jack Rogers sandals. Somehow, Zach managed to look masculine—and sexy as hell—holding the delicate crystal champagne glass by the stem, totally oblivious to the fact that she was watching him.
Her uncle Bill, her mom’s brother, whom she hadn’t seen in months, had come back to Houston for the announcement at their parents’ behest, and was engrossed in conversation with Zach and the group. Obviously, her family didn’t think there was anything out of the ordinary that Zach had been included in this day of special news.
Zach, who had until a few weeks ago been the broker in charge of Fortunado Real Estate’s San Antonio office, had arrived at the house before Maddie, and her mother—as intuitive as ever—had been in the kitchen and had warned her he was here.
“Oh!” Barbara’s hand had flown to her mouth, as if she hadn’t meant for the exclamation to escape.
“By the way,” she’d said, “before you go out there, I thought you should know your father invited Zach McCarter to be here today.”
Maddie’s stomach had flip-flopped, then plunged. “Here? For the barbecue?”
Barbara grimaced. “Yes. He’s out on the porch. Your father insisted on inviting him, even though I said I thought it wasn’t a good idea.” Barbara shot Maddie a knowing look. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind?” Maddie kept her voice level and her poker face firmly fixed.
“Why would you mind?” Barbara had shrugged. “Well, I thought this announcement that your father and I are about to make would’ve been best kept to just family first. But you know how he is. Once he gets something in his head, there’s no talking him out of it. It’s best just to go with it.”
Happy to have the forewarning, she’d seen Zach before she’d opened the French doors that led out to the terrace. In the split instant when her eyes had picked him out of the group that had grown to include more friends than family, her heart had performed a two-step that had caused her to put her hand to her chest.
She looked at Zach standing there, so comfortable in his own skin, laughing with her sisters. The sheer beauty of him—of them all—made the scene look like it could have been an ad for Ralph Lauren or some other all-American line that featured buff, gorgeous people.
Perfection seemed to come so effortlessly to Zach.
This stolen opportunity to drink in his masculine beauty was a smidgen of unadulterated heaven. From the top of his curly blond head—with hair that was on the longish side, but still looked professional—to the bottom of his six-foot-four-inch frame, he was sheer perfection.
His light blue eyes were slightly downturned and adorably crinkled at the edges when he smiled. Maddie took a moment to pay homage to that strong, structured jawline, to those wide shoulders and his impressive height. He was tall, but so was she and next to him, she felt feminine. His nose was just a little crooked and that scar on his chin that she couldn’t see but could visualize were just enough to lend a masculine edge to his classic features. Good thing, too, because with his sun-kissed honey-blond hair, perfected by his convertible BMW, he could easily have been too pretty. But he wasn’t. He was perfect.
She watched Schuyler reach up and ruffle Zach’s hair. She’d wager that she was telling him that people paid big bucks for highlights like that. Schuyler was always bemoaning the high price of beauty when she migrated back to Houston from Austin every six weeks for hair appointments. That was precisely why Maddie preferred to keep her blond hair natural. She didn’t have time to get roped into regular salon appointments for upkeep. The mere thought of the obligation gave her hives.
On a better note, she wished she could freeze this stolen moment and savor it over and over. Because Zach looked particularly gorgeous on this fine Sunday afternoon. There was something especially enticing about the way his light blue eyes crinkled as he laughed at something Schuyler was saying. He was probably humoring her as she went on and on about his highlights. He looked so comfortable in his own sexy skin. He was mesmerizing, and the sight of him sent a quiver down to the pit of her
