Chapter 15
Cate
Cate was on a mission of love. At least, that’s what she told herself as she drove toward Seth Barrett’s house in Horton Bay.
If anyone asked, she’d claim she was just “running out to check a paint color.” A perfectly reasonable errand for a woman who had once refinished her entire New York hallway after deciding the beige looked “too smug.”
But the truth? She was here for Samantha.
Aunt Cate, Cupid for Hire.
Outside her windshield, northern Michigan was in autumn overdrive.
Back in Manhattan, she only saw fall in Central Park.
Here, the trees threw colors around like confetti.
You couldn’t look anywhere without being treated to a brilliant gold or red or the occasional orange that could charitably be described as “pumpkin spice.” She loved that coffee flavor at this time of year.
Well, here she was. Cate turned into Seth’s long, forest-lined lane, heart thudding. Her sister Jo would want her to do this for Samantha. At least that’s what Cate decided every time she had to explain her own behavior to herself. It was very convenient having a dead sister who could not argue.
“I’m trying, Jo,” she murmured. “You’d like Seth. Hard-working. Easy on the eyes. Wears plaid flannel shirts well.”
The house rose on its knoll, blue with dark shutters, all polished and confident—much like its owner. His truck sat tucked under the trees. Good. He was home. Which meant she had exactly one hour to nudge him toward romance with Samantha and not make a complete idiot of herself in the process.
She gave a polite beep as she pulled into the parking area. It echoed through the quiet woods, sounding gauche when surrounded by all this natural beauty. Before she could reach for her Prada shoulder bag, the side door swung open and Seth appeared.
My, oh my. It should be illegal for a man to look that good in a plaid shirt.
He came down the steps with that easy, rolling walk of his. The moccasins on his bare feet nearly did her in. What sort of fifty-ish man wore moccasins and still managed to look rugged?
“It’s about time you came to visit again,” he said, taking her elbow as she navigated the rocky path in her wedges.
That one touch? How silly. She hoped he didn’t feel her knees wobble.
“Your place is just beautiful wearing fall color,” she said. “I mean, with…with the fall color.”
“And all of it ends up in my yard.” He groaned, then grinned. “You know, leaves think of me as their final resting place.”
She laughed, thinking of his garage that held some pretty serious yard equipment. “Well, you have the equipment for it.”
“Doesn’t matter. I still reserve the right to complain,” he said, guiding her up the steps. His hand remained at her elbow a fraction longer than necessary, or so she thought. Cate noted these things. She was a woman, not a chair. And she would channel all this to Samantha later.
Inside, he shut the screen door with the familiar bang. “Did you come with a few snacks in that bag?” He eyed her hefty designer shoulder bag. Monty used to tease her about her purses. Even though they gave her backaches, she did love the handbags that always made a statement,
“Just kidding, Cate. Sorry.” But Seth’s mischievous eyes weren’t sorry at all. “Do you have time for a glass of wine?”
“Wine would be lovely,” she said, trying to sound casual and not like a woman plotting her family’s future.
Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a bottle of Louis Jadot chardonnay.
She set her bag on one of the high stools pulled up to the counter. “Good heavens. My favorite.”
“I know,” he said simply.
Her pulse skipped. He’d noticed that before?
She rummaged in her purse for the color swatches. “I hope I’m not intruding, but I wanted to check the sand color on one of the guest rooms.”
His brows lifted. Just barely. “That so?”
Why did he look like a man who already knew exactly what she was up to? He poured the wine and handed her a glass. “Here’s to a successful project.”
“And many more,” she said before she could stop herself.
“Many more?” he echoed, looking amused.
“Oh, you know.” She waved a hand. “Projects. Rooms. Walls. So many walls.”
“Uh huh.” He didn’t believe a word. After all, Seth and his crew had worked on the walls of Sunnycrest for weeks, applying the colors that Gabby had shown the family.
They went upstairs to check the color in one of the bedrooms. Spreading out her color chart, she pretended to be uncertain about the match. He pretended to go along with it. Her lie hung in the air like a bad lampshade.
Back downstairs, he gestured toward the living area. “Why don’t we sit and enjoy the view?”
“Perfect.” She stashed her color chart back into the bag and followed him.
Wine glasses in hand, they settled into the gray leather sofa, enjoying the soft hush of lake and fading light. “What’s new?” he asked.
Oh, he’d love this. “Would you believe that Gabby and Chip have set me up with one of their friends? Winston Price.”
“Of course I’d believe it. I know Winston.”
“Oh, oh well. Is he nice?”
His forehead wrinkling. “I wouldn’t exactly call him that. But you should make your own decision.”
What the heck did that mean?
“How’s the family?” Seth moved right along.
She sipped her wine for courage. Then dove in. “Marlowe’s doing well with real estate. Izzy’s great. But Samantha…well…” She sighed dramatically. “She broke up with Josh.”
“That so?” Seth frowned. “They seemed solid last summer.”
“Oh yes, but he’s so busy. And his mother didn’t quite warm to Sam. Also the teenage son and daughter were a problem. You know how they can be.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I do. Those were the years when I considered boarding school for Tyler.” Seth’s son was in college, and he was a handsome lad from what she saw in the snapshots around his house.
“I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“And you would be right.” He gave her a thoughtful look. “You’re worried about Sam.”
“Of course I am. She’s been moping around, poor lamb.” She waved her glass. “She deserves someone warm and steady and emotionally available.”
His gaze sharpened. “Uh-huh.”
What did uh-huh mean? Was he agreeing? Laughing at her? Seeing straight through her like his freshly washed windows?
“My niece is very accomplished,” she said. “And kind. And generous. Has a wonderful sense of humor—dry, but delightful. You know. For the right man.”
“Mm.” He took a slow sip.
Why wasn’t he saying something? This was not going well.
“And she’s probably not thinking about dating again for a while.” she lied. Cate had no idea where Sam’s head was on that issue. “But you never know.”
A beat passed. Then another.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Cate?”
“Yes?” she chirped.
“I know what you’re doing.”
Her stomach dropped. “Doing? I'm not doing anything.”
He gave her a soft, ridiculously confident smile. “You’re matchmaking.”
She sputtered. “Well, I wouldn’t say…”
“And I’m flattered you think I’m worth setting up with your niece.”
She froze. Flattered?
“Don’t get me wrong,” he continued gently, “Samantha’s great. Truly. I like her. And you’re right. She deserves someone who makes time for her.”
The words were a polite no. She’d delivered polite no’s after Monty passed away. Cate had practically patented the polite no.
“But please don’t recruit me on her behalf.”
“Whyever not?” she asked, almost defensively.
He held her gaze. “Because I’m not interested in your niece.”
Well, that settled that. She shouldn’t be surprised that a good looking guy like Seth already had someone.
“I’m interested in you.”
Cate’s brain stopped functioning. “Me?” she squeaked.
“You.” His grin tilted. “Unless I’m reading things wrong.”
“You and me?” she repeated, her mind a blank.
“You,” he confirmed, amused. “The woman who pretended to drive all the way out here just to look at a paint swatch.”
“That color was difficult to match,” she protested, wishing she could disappear.
“Cate, that’s the same color you have in your mudroom.”
“Oh.” Standing, she reached for her cape. “Well. Yes. Perhaps.”
Seth stood, took her cape and draped it around her shoulders with quiet care. His hands rested there an extra second and she sure felt those warm palms.
“But Seth, I’m sixty-two.”
“But Cate, I don’t care. Does age matter at this point in life?”
Heck, yes. What now?
“Enjoy your date with Winston,” he said lightly, but his eyes were anything but light. They were challenging and what was that about?
She fled. There was nothing dignified about her departure. She thanked him for the wine and nearly tripped on the stairs. Somehow she streaked across the lawn, got into her car, and drove off.
At the end of the drive, she exhaled.
Seth Barrett was not interested in her niece.
Seth Barrett was interested in her.
And Cate Conway, who was always cool and confident, was suddenly dizzy.
Oh, heavens. It had been such a long time since a man had looked at her like that.