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  Twilight had fallen, and Brooke knew total blackness was soon to follow.

  In the woods, it wasn’t just kind of dark; it got black dark, the kind where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. She wasn’t afraid, but she wasn’t crazy about bumping around in the dark with him. Why, his chest looked hard enough to crack a walnut. She could imagine what it would do to her head if she should run into him.

  A slow, forbidden shiver danced along her spine at the thought. Shame quickly followed. She was sick indeed, lusting after—

  She drew in a sharp breath and stopped in her tracks.

  Mr. Hard Chest slammed right into her from behind, proving her earlier suspicions about just how hard his chest was.

  And not just his chest!

  His arms came around her to prevent her forward hurdle. For an alarming moment, they touched from head to toe, and Brooke could feel every hard, shocking inch of him against her.

  Just as she gathered her breath to demand he let her go, his hand moved up, covering her mouth and effectively silencing her.

  “Be quiet!”

  His harsh, urgent whisper chilled her blood. She grew still as her predicament became very clear.

  The shifting of power was complete.

  Reviews

  THOSE BABY BLUES: “A compelling, sexy romp that leaves you smiling!” ~Christine Feehan, New York Times bestselling author

  “A fast, fun and tender story sure to touch the reader’s heart.” ~Romance Reviews Today

  “Sheridon Smythe has created a warm and touching tale of love that just keeps expanding.”

  ~Romantic Times (A Top Pick!)

  A PERFECT FIT: “Lots of good chuckles and a modern relationship that goes from zero to racing speed in seconds flat.” ~Romantic Times

  “Brooke and Alex’s sexy interactions will keep you reading.” ~All About Romance

  MR. HYDE’S ASSETS: A warmhearted and charming tale of secrets, lies and true love.” ~Romantic Times

  MR. COMPLETE: This fast-paced story will keep you engrossed to the last page.” ~Romantic Times

  “Humourous...hunk-heaven. Sheridon Smythe spins a delightful tale.” ~Midwest Book Review

  “Absolutely, positively HOT. Sheridon Smythe has written another sexy, hilarious romance that will keep you laughing out loud and have the windows fogging up...this book is a perfect 10 all the way around.”

  ~Romance Reviews Today

  “This will...make you a fan of her hot, steamy, and completely wonderful romances!” ~A Romance Review

  HOT NUMBER: “A fast-moving story with loads of sexual pressure...plenty of hot scenes.” ~RT BOOKclub

  “An engaging romance...For a thoroughly entertaining read, I recommend HOT NUMBER.”

  ~Romance Reviews Today

  A Perfect Fit

  by

  Sheridon Smythe

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Perfect Fit

  COPYRIGHT Ó 2008 by Sherrie Kelley & Donna Smith

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 706

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Champagne Rose Edition, 2008

  Print ISBN 1-60154-432-4

  Published in the United States of America

  Chapter 1

  “Looks like you’ve got trouble in Quicksilver.”

  Alex Bradshaw glanced up at the sound of his secretary’s voice, grateful for the interruption—any interruption, even if her grave announcement did prompt ludicrous images portending a shoot-out at the OK Corral. His eyes had begun to blur, a sure sign he was on the verge of developing one of those mysterious, frustrating migraines that had been plaguing him for the past three months.

  Stubbornly ignoring the pain, he drawled, “Now, you wouldn’t be exaggerating, would ya, Miss Kitty?”

  “Doubtful. And I always thought Miss Kitty was a damned fool, pining her life away, waiting on Matt Dillon to come around.”

  Alex managed a grin, focusing painfully on the items she held: a sheet of paper, a glass of water, and two tablets. How did she always seem to know even before he did? He popped the pills into his mouth and chased them down with the water, eyeing her frowning face over the rim of the glass. When he was done, he handed her the empty glass and reached for the fax.

  She snatched it away. “Why don’t I tell you what it says?” she suggested.

  “I take it you’ve already read it?”

  Gloria feigned a withering glance. “Of course. I am your secretary. Besides, you know what the doctor said. If you keep pushing yourself, the migraines will only get worse.”

  Massaging his temples, Alex leaned his head against the chair rest. If it had been anyone else but Gloria he would have gritted his teeth and demanded the paper. “Go ahead,” he muttered.

  “Well, as far as I can tell, they fired Daisy because she found out.”

  “Who’s Daisy?”

  “She was the secretary at your factory in Quicksilver,” Gloria said, sounding outraged on Daisy’s behalf. “I’ve talked to her a few times on the phone and she seems like a real nice lady. Been workin’ there for twenty years, so you can see why she’s so upset.”

  “Yeah,” Alex agreed dryly. “Maybe upset enough to stir up trouble?”

  “I don’t think so.” Gloria thumped the paper for emphasis, making Alex wince. “No, I think Daisy’s stumbled onto a den of rats—the rats being the supervisors at the factory.”

  Alex was beginning to regret coming into the office today. He was leaving first thing in the morning for a mandatory three-week vacation, doctor’s orders. His father, retired these past six months, had jumped at the opportunity to stand in for him. He’d sounded so desperate Alex hadn’t had the heart to turn him down.

  Alex smiled faintly at the memory before focusing on his secretary, whom he knew loved a good mystery almost as much as she loved her husband. “Just exactly what’s she accusing them of?”

  “Embezzling.”

  He straightened in his chair. The factory in Quicksilver made the Bradshaw Corporation a lot of money, supplying a safety-conscious country with top-quality condoms. It was the main reason he and his father had purchased the factory less than a year ago.

  The only drawback had been the fact that the factory was located a few miles outside a small town in the northern corner of Oklahoma—hundreds of miles away from their home office in Amarillo, Texas, which made it difficult to monitor. “Have we inspected yet?”

  “No. It’s on your schedule for next month.”

  “Get me the files on all of the supervisors, and the plant manager—what’s his name?”

  “Kyle Lotus, and I have the files ready for you.” She grinned at his startled expression. “Don’t look so surprised. After ten years, I can practically read your mind, young man.”

  Alex managed to move his eyebrows in a suggestive wiggle. “Let’s hope your husband doesn’t possess the same talent, Mrs. Coltrain.”

  “Oh, you!” Gloria blushed to the roots of her graying red hair. She was a happily married woman with six grown children, but she could blush like a teenager when Alex teased her. Down-home and
kind-hearted, Gloria was the last of her kind Alex thought. It was a downright shame, too, and Alex didn’t hesitate to remind her husband of his good fortune at every opportunity.

  With a sigh, Alex closed his eyes and waited for the medicine to ease the pain, wondering if Quicksilver possessed a decent hotel. The way things were looking, he’d be making a small detour on his way to Hot Springs, Arkansas, a vacation spot recommended by his doctor. Alex grinned, remembering that his doctor had also suggested he find himself a willing woman and get down and dirty. “Relieve some of that pressure, Alex, my boy. It isn’t healthy to go without sex.”

  “Alex?”

  Alex opened one eye at Gloria’s hesitant query, surprised to find her hovering anxiously in the doorway. He’d thought she’d gone.

  “You aren’t thinkin’ of going up there, are you?”

  Shrewd woman, Alex thought. “Yes, I am. Why?”

  “Rats can get dangerous when cornered. Just remember that.”

  She was dead serious, he saw. With an effort, he kept a straight face. “You watch too many movies.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Promise you’ll be careful, and check in often?”

  “I’ll make you a deal; if you promise not to mention my little detour to the family, I promise to call you every day.”

  “It’s a deal.” Satisfied, Gloria scurried around and closed the shades before returning to her desk outside his office.

  Little did Gloria know that his father, mother, grandfather, Aunt Joyce, and doctor had already extracted the same promise. Somewhere between the CAT scan and the EEG they’d forgotten he was a grown man.

  Heaven forbid if he found himself without access to cell phone coverage! Alex almost chuckled at the thought. They’d probably call out the National Guard, hire search helicopters, and put his picture on the back of milk cartons. Since the doctor had diagnosed him with migraines, the entire family—and staff—had treated him as if he were made of glass. Their suffocating concern had succeeded in increasing the frequency of his headaches.

  Thank God he was leaving tomorrow.

  Gloria’s voice crackled over the intercom, reactivating the pain in his head. He jabbed a finger at the volume button. “And don’t forget my souvenir,” she added sternly.

  Alex couldn’t resist teasing her. He’d suffered his share of ribbing since buying the condom factory; here was his chance to retaliate. “A souvenir? Sure, I’ll bring you back a whole case of condoms—”

  “You are not funny, Mister. I meant from Hot Springs.”

  He started to laugh, but groaned instead.

  ****

  “You’re pregnant.”

  Brooke Welch stared at her teary-eyed baby sister as if she had announced she’d slept with Charles Manson. Shock made her face thrum. “You’re pregnant,” she croaked again, because croaking seemed to be the most she could muster by way of sound. “And I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”

  As Brooke continued to stand frozen in the middle of the room, Dee put her face into the mattress and mumbled, “Nobody knew because he’s...engaged to someone else.” The rest of her words trailed away into an almost indistinguishable whisper.

  Unfortunately, Brooke understood her. Very unfortunately. Her fingers closed around the base of the lamp on the nightstand beside the bed. Don’t do it, her mind commanded. Don’t throw the lamp. Brooke took a deep breath and closed her eyes, envisioning the stack of chipped, cracked plates in the cabinet above the microwave; she’d bought them at a garage sale for the single purpose of breaking them. But first she would try to imagine breaking them.

  Sometimes it was enough.

  Sometimes it wasn’t.

  In her mind, she closed her fingers around the top plate, pulled it free, and sailed it across the room. And in her mind, it landed with a satisfying crash against the wall, shattering into a hundred pieces. In fact, the sound was so satisfying, she pulled another from the shelf, then another—

  “Brooke? Are you throwing plates again?”

  Dee’s interruption helped thaw her frozen brain. She reluctantly pried her fingers from the lamp and opened her eyes. “Why is he seeing you if he’s engaged to someone else?” It was a reasonable question, and one she hoped to high heaven Dee had thought to ask the two-timing, son-of-a—

  “She’s got money.” Dee lifted her face and shoved a thick, heavy swathe of honey-blonde hair from her baby blues. Her nose was red and her mascara ran like chocolate melting in the sun, but she was still beautiful.

  And pregnant! Brooke inhaled sharply as the realization took full effect. Her brothers would kill the bastard—if they got to him first. Thank God they lived out of town! “What did he say when you told him?”

  “I—I couldn’t get in touch with him, so I left a message. He’s not answering my calls.”

  Dee sniffed, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she continued in a dreamy voice that made Brooke want to gag.

  “You should see him, Brooke. He’s the handsomest man I’ve ever met. I can just hear his voice over the phone and it makes my knees weak. When I’m with him, he makes me feel special, like I’m the only woman in the world.”

  The scum, the bastard. Any man who could inspire her sister to babble soap-opera nonsense inspired her instant dislike. And the dreamy, dazed look in Dee’s eyes made her shudder. Dee had it bad—real bad. Worse than she had had it for that cheating bum, Kyle.

  “Where did you meet him?” Brooke demanded, her fingers itching to grab the lamp again. She took a series of deep, supposedly calming breaths instead. It didn’t work; she still wanted to break something. A lot of somethings, and not just in her mind. Maybe the whole stack of plates, which she could ill afford, even as cheap as they were. She had just recently replaced the last stack after finding out she didn’t get the promotion from Level C Supervisor to Level B.

  “I met Cliff at school. He came to do an interview for the paper—”

  “He’s a reporter?” Brooke squeaked in horror. Dee knew how she felt about reporters, and had often claimed she felt the same. The day their parents died, she and Dee had received the devastating news not from a sympathetic policeman, but from an over-zealous reporter. From that moment on, Brooke couldn’t think about a reporter without getting queasy.

  And now she had even more reason to avoid them.

  “Well, you’re not dropping out of school, so don’t even think it. Lots of girls go to college while they’re pregnant, and for God’s sake, DeeDee, why didn’t you use a condom? I work at a condom factory, so it’s not like we can’t afford them! In fact...” Brooke yanked open her nightstand drawer, reached inside, and withdrew a handful of square packages. She held them in the air. “Name your color! And we even have the ones with the little ticklers on the end.”

  Dee flushed. “I’m not stupid, Brooke! We did use a condom. It...malfunctioned.”

  “Malfunctioned?” Brooke gave a disbelieving snort as she tossed the packages into the open drawer and slammed it shut. The lamp she’d been coveting for the past fifteen minutes wobbled and began to tip over. Snarling, Brooke grabbed it and slammed it down. If the lamp was going to get broken, then she’d be doing the breaking! “Safe & Secure condoms are the most dependable—”

  “You sound like a commercial,” Dee cut in. “I’m not lying, Brooke. The damned thing broke!”

  Ah, to hell with it, Brooke thought, marching into the kitchen. She snatched a plate from the cupboard and sent it sailing into the sink. With the stress-relieving sound of breaking glass ringing in her ears, she returned to the bedroom and said, “You won’t be raising this baby alone. He’s going to pay, and he’s going to pay dearly.”

  Dee sat up, looking very much like a lost little girl. Only she wasn’t a girl, Brooke reminded herself. Dee was a twenty-year-old woman who should know better than to get mixed up with a playboy like Cliff. Brooke’s brothers had been urging Brooke to get a life for years. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was slowing Dee’s growth by mothering her,
but at the time of her parents’ death, Dee had been a very fragile teenager of fourteen.

  Mothering Dee had become a habit over the years.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to call him.”

  “I don’t think he’ll talk to you.”

  “Oh, I think he will,” Brooke snarled softly as an idea began to form. “I think he’ll come running, and when he does, I’m going to grab him.”

  This time there was not only doubt but fear in Dee’s voice. “Brooke, what are you planning? Please don’t hurt him. He’s—he’s the father of this baby.”

  Offended, Brooke glanced at her. “DeeDee, I don’t break people, just things. I’ve never struck another soul in my life.” She raked her gaze down the length of her own petite frame and grimaced. “Besides, it’s not like I could hurt anyone if I tried.”

  “You might be small, but I’ve heard people from the factory talk about you. They’re afraid of you.”

  “I’m their supervisor,” Brooke scoffed, not believing her for a moment. “They’re not afraid of me, they just respect me because I can get them fired.” Afraid of her! Ha! The suggestion itself was ludicrous—almost as ludicrous as the thought of her getting someone fired. “Get packed. We’re going to be spending the weekend at the cabin.” When Dee looked bewildered, she added grimly, “Cliff will be joining us.”

  “He won’t come.” Dee sounded weepy again.

  “He will.” Brooke pivoted toward the kitchen and the mess she’d made. She flung over her shoulder, “Because I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

  ****

  Four hours later Brooke pulled into the parking lot of Treva’s Diner and shoved the gearshift into park. She’d left a message for Cliff to meet her at five o’clock.

  It was time to see if Mr. Sure Shot had taken the bait.

  Brooke was fairly confident he would. After all, what reporter could resist a hot story like the one she’d concocted on the spur of a desperate moment? She was fairly certain a very happily married Mayor Zimmerman would never think twice about having an affair with the high school principal, especially a high school principal who’d had a sex change at the age of sixteen, but with any luck, no one would ever have to know about her little white lie.