side as well as his spirit. He’d stayed up late last night redesigning the residential section that would become the second phase of the Austin Commons project based on feedback he’d received from the development company’s CEO. In addition to the brownstones and smaller apartments, he’d added an inner courtyard that could function as a community gathering space.
Many of the changes centered around an open-air design with shade pavilions to take advantage of the mild temperatures in Austin. Granted, he had yet to live through a Texas summer, but he was definitely enjoying the fact that he could be out in just a shirt in January.
He’d spoken to his mother just yesterday, and she’d told him it had rained in London every day since the new year began. Keaton lifted his face to the bright Texas sun and was grateful for the warmth on his skin.
Almost as grateful as he was to the obnoxious local at the diner last night who’d given him an earful of grief. Listening to that blighter was a small price to pay for finally getting an opportunity to talk to Francesca Harriman.
At first she’d been as skittish as one of the colts on Graham’s ranch outside of town. The pink that had tinged her cheeks when she’d mentioned his accent was adorable. It was a strange thing, the way American women got so flustered when he spoke. But he had to admit he’d placed an extra emphasis on rounding his vowels and making his voice a bit more clipped when speaking to Francesca just to elicit a reaction from her.
It seemed only fair given the way she made him feel as nervous as a schoolboy with his first crush. He would have been content to sit and stare at her all night long. From a distance it was difficult to notice anything except her riot of blond curls and that luscious figure. Up close he realized her features were quite delicate, from her caramel-colored eyes with flecks of gold dancing through them to her high cheekbones and rosebud mouth.
More surprising was how much he’d enjoyed simply talking to Francesca once they’d each acclimated to the other. He could tell she didn’t even realize how appealing she was with her humor and gentle teasing. He was used to women who played games by volleying veiled sexual innuendoes and flirting outrageously. Francesca was wholly real, and helping her study for her test had been the most fun he’d had in ages.
If only he’d had a study partner like Francesca when he’d been at university. Scratch that. He would have spent far too much time watching her nibble on her bottom lip, something she did when concentrating and one more thing about her that drove him absolutely wild.
“Who is she?”
Keaton stopped as his half brother Ben Fortune Robinson stepped in front of him on the sidewalk. He was surprised to realize he’d made it to the restaurant, as he’d been oblivious to any thoughts except those of Francesca.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied. “I’ve got work on the brain.”
Although they had different mothers, Keaton looked enough like the Robinson twins, Wes and Ben, to make it clear to any stranger that he was related. Ben had come to London last year after his sister Rachel had revealed that Gerald Robinson was truly Jerome Fortune and the eight legitimate Robinson children might have other half siblings they didn’t know from their father’s various short-lived affairs over the years. Keaton had never known his father but the photo that Ben had of Gerald showed the same man from the photo Keaton’s mother kept hidden in her dresser drawer. The man who had broken her heart.
It had been a shock for Keaton to discover he was part of such a large and famous family, but he was determined to track down the rest of the children Gerald had left in his wake.
Ben was now happily married to Ella, who he’d hired to help him track down Keaton and other possible siblings. The happy couple was expecting their first baby in the next few weeks, which meant that in the course of one short year, Keaton had gone from an only child to a brother and soon-to-be uncle.
He held the door of the cafe open for Ben, who leveled a knowing look at him. “Give me a break,” Ben said before greeting the hostess by name. As the young woman led them to a table in the back, Ben continued to goad him. “If designing a building puts that cow-eyed look on your face, you definitely need to get out more.”
“I don’t know what kind of cows you have in Texas,” Keaton shot back, “but I’m not one of them.”
Obviously listening to their conversation, the hostess gave him a strange, assessing smile as they sat and she handed them menus.
“I guess you’re simply infatuated with our fair city,” Ben answered. “We’ll leave it at that.”
“Good idea,” Keaton agreed. He wasn’t ready to share Francesca with anyone. They’d only had one conversation, but he wanted more. The trick was going to be how to convince her. “How is Ella?”
“In her words she’s ‘ready to pop,’”
A waitress approached the table and recited the lunch specials in a bored, monotone voice. Keaton couldn’t help compare this place with Lola May’s, where the waitstaff and customers joked and laughed and generally treated each other as an extended family. Lola May set the tone for the casual, sociable environment so that eating there felt like pulling up a seat at a friend’s table. It was silly, but the restaurant had eased his transition to a new country and unfamiliar city, making him feel like he had a place he belonged.
They ordered and Ben continued, “We have everything set up for the baby’s arrival, but I still don’t feel ready.” He shrugged. “I never thought being a father was in the cards for me, you know?”
Keaton knew all too well. “You’ll do great.”
“Because I had such a bang-up role model in my dad?” He cleared his throat, then added, “I mean our dad.”
“Gerald wasn’t a father to me,” Keaton said quietly. “He isn’t anything to me.”
The waitress returned with two glasses of iced tea, and he took a long drink to cool the angry heat that pooled low in his stomach at the thought of the man who’d abandoned him and his mother. “But, yes, that’s part of the reason why I have no doubt you’ll take to fatherhood like a duck to water. It’s important for you not to repeat the same mistakes Gerald made.”
“I used to believe he’d made mistakes, but now I wonder if he was simply willfully ignorant for so many years.” Ben tapped one finger against the table. “Or the type of man who just didn’t care.”
Keaton inclined his head. “He’s still your dad, and I don’t want my personal feelings about him to color your opinion.”
“Trust me,” Ben said quietly, “I’ve had plenty of reasons to develop my own feelings about him. Each new revelation is a challenge, but Ella has helped me make peace with a lot of it.”
“You’re lucky to have found her.”
“Damn straight. I almost have to be grateful for all the turmoil Dad’s new identity caused because it led me to Ella. If I hadn’t crashed Kate Fortune’s birthday party last year, I never would have met her. It’s hard to imagine my life without her. Ella is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“There’s another reason you’ll be a good father—you love your baby’s mother.”
“With my whole heart.”
Keaton sucked in a sharp breath at Ben’s words. What would it feel like to give his whole heart to another person? To him, it felt like a recipe for disaster. He’d seen what that kind of love had done to his mother. She’d never gotten over having her heart broken by Gerald Robinson, and it had colored every part of her life. Keaton wouldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable to another person, nor did he want the responsibility of someone loving him that way.
An image of Francesca popped into his mind, but he immediately discounted it. Yes, there was something about the woman that made him want to know her better, but it was infatuation—nothing more.
“Do you have any new