Keeping the Pieces

by Brenda Lowder

  Cam looked around the room and paused, then kissed Honey on the side of her head, his lips landing somewhere in her voluminous hair. “Tonight, I have asked Ms. Honey Marie Covington, the love of my life, to marry me…and she’s accepted.”

  The band launched into the “Wedding March” and a roar went up from the assembled party. A hot brick of pain dropped into the fire pit of Emma’s stomach.

  Cam was going to marry Honey? How? How could he? He’d kissed her, Emma, just last night. Their story was beginning. Why would he kiss her and then announce his happy ending with Honey?

  “No.” The word felt ripped from her bruised and bleeding heart, but she hadn’t spoken. A deep voice somewhere off to her right had, a sour note almost unnoticed in the song of hoots, hollers, and congratulations.

  Her eyes sought the source of the sound and snagged on the object out of place. Derek, his face a slash of hurt, looked as bad as Emma felt. He moved against the throng, wading forward until he reached one of Cam’s preppy buddies who was too drunk to leave his path.

  Derek stepped past the man, whom Emma identified as Cam’s annoying friend Braydon. Very drunk, Braydon tipped unsteadily before falling to the floor and smashing his champagne flute.

  Cam’s Aunt Betsy bent over Braydon, and a few other people gathered around, some picking up shards and two others trying to help the inebriated Braydon to stand. Derek didn’t spare them a glance. His eyes were skewered on his goal, which, when Emma turned her head to follow his line of sight, was the only woman who could evoke that level of obsession in a man.

  Honey Covington.

  Honey sparkled in the golden light that illuminated her and her brand-new fiancé on the dais. Relatives, friends, and well-wishers squeezed invasion-like on all sides. Cam and Honey clung to each other in joy and mutual defense. They were together forever in the same gilded life raft, oblivious to the approaching storm.

  Emma watched Derek push forward, his brow cloudy with concentration. In seconds he’d be upon the happy couple, destroying their glittering tableau.

  As much as Emma would love to see them separated, now wasn’t the time. Not when Cam and Honey were basking in the adulation of their announcement, standing in front of their families and friends, bathed in glimmering light.

  As Derek plowed his way through the people three feet from her, Emma made the only decision she could.

  She threw herself on him and tackled Derek to the floor.

  Chapter Four

  Derek would have sworn that the featherweight brunette who couldn’t hold herself upright after a couple glasses of champagne wouldn’t have been able to knock over a third grader. And yet here he was, on his back on the floor. Her slinky, satin-sheathed form wriggling on top of him, preventing him from reaching his goal.

  He was stunned, his body not knowing how to react to the pliably seductive weight pressing down on him when she was the physical obstacle keeping him from what he wanted.

  “Get off me!”

  She slid her elbow to his neck and put pressure on his windpipe, surprising the hell out of him. Her voice was warm and close in his ear. “I will. I will. Just settle down.”

  “Get off me,” he repeated through clenched teeth, his words gravelly with the pressure on his throat.

  “I will if you don’t do what you were going to do.” She eased her arm away from his neck, and he could breathe comfortably again. She scooted off him and watched warily as he sat up.

  “How do you know what I was going to do?” He squinted at her, adjusting his tie.

  Emma glanced around, and he followed her gaze. They were still surrounded by partygoers. Some were watching their strange interlude on the floor, obviously assuming they were drunk or crazy or both—which would be an accurate assessment of his attacker. Many others were still gathered around Honey and Cam. A few guests pressed around the passed-out prep school guy who wasn’t getting as much attention as his situation should warrant.

  “We can’t talk here,” she said like the spy he was starting to think she was. She struggled to stand but bent over while smoothing her dress, and he was treated to a second partially obstructed glimpse of her glorious breasts.

  She caught him looking and straightened, pulling her neckline up as high as she could. She patted her skirt down and brushed her long, shiny chestnut hair over her shoulders before extending a hand down to him.

  He let his eyes linger on her ringless hand before he scoffed and pushed it away, getting up in one smooth motion. Turning away from her, he made a move toward the dais, but she caught his arm and hissed in his ear. “I’m serious. You don’t want to do this now. Let’s go talk.”

  Derek didn’t like to be waylaid from his course once he’d decided to act, but he was intrigued. Although the scrappy brunette lacked Honey’s golden sophistication, she had her own appeal with large, hazel eyes and perfectly arched eyebrows set in a baby doll face. And breasts he was starting to feel like he was in a relationship with.

  He allowed himself to be led below deck. Noticeably less tipsy than she’d been at the bar, she preceded him down the narrow stairway, which was little more than a highly polished wooden ladder. She kept hold of his arm in a firm grasp, as if she could keep him from breaking away and barreling back through the crowded room if he’d wanted.

  Could the night get any stranger?

  He strained to see through the darkness below deck. Emma passed up the first three closed doors in favor of the last on the left. Where were they going? And how did she know how to get there? She looked left and right and, seemingly satisfied that no one had followed them, opened the door and pulled him inside.

  She closed the door behind them and hit the lights. When Derek’s eyes adjusted, he saw they were in a media room. A brown leather sectional faced an enormous TV on the wall. College boys and their toys. Not for the first time tonight, Derek cursed Cam for being the rich, spoiled brat that he was.

  “Son of a bitch.” He shook his head.

  Obviously misunderstanding his meaning, Emma smiled. “It is a nice room, isn’t it? I was there when Stephanie consulted with the designer.”

  “Stephanie?”

  “Cam’s mom. Cam invited some of us down to see the boat right after his dad got it. His mom started in on improvements right away. She even took my opinion on the color of the drapes.” She gestured proudly to the wine-colored fabric bracketing the windows. He nodded. Why was she talking about drapes, for God’s sake?

  “Have a seat.” She pointed to the sofa.

  He folded his arms and gave her a look. “How about you tell me why you’ve dragged me down here?”

  She crossed her arms, mimicking his stance, and tilted her pointy chin at him, only wobbling a little. “Because your timing was off. Big time. And you and I have important things to discuss.”

  He could almost see through the thin fabric of her dress, which seemed to be unraveling by the minute. Was she even wearing underwear? Her folded arms squeezed her breasts past the edge of her neckline. One nice, deep breath would have them bursting free. He felt a stir below his beltline and found himself hoping she’d need a giant gulp of air soon.

  “What do we have to discuss?”

  She took a deep breath, but, to his disappointment, her bosom stayed contained.

  “Please sit down, and I’ll tell you.” Her voice was serious, and her eyebrows drew together into a worried expression.

  His curiosity piqued, he strode across the room, removed his formal straitjacket, and took a seat in the corner of the sofa. He draped his arms on the back of both sides. “Well, what are your intentions toward me, ma’am?” he drawled.

  A look of irritation crossed her face. She took a step closer to the couch then hesitated.

  “Still drunk? Unsteady on your feet? I guess I could carry you if you want.” He started to stand, and she balked, quickly sitting as far from him as she could get and waving him off.

  “I’m fine. And no, I’m not drunk anymore. If I ever was.
” He gave her a look. “Maybe a little tipsy at most,” she amended.

  “Tipsy enough to flash me.” He smiled at the memory.

  She held up a hand. “That was unintentional. And despite whatever level of intoxication I may have exhibited previously, I’m completely sober now.” She swallowed and looked down. “Life-changing news will do that to you.”

  His head shot up, and she met his gaze. There was a knowing gleam in her eye but no amusement.

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Derek, because I believe we’re in similar situations.” She clasped her hands over her knee and leaned forward. “Furthermore, I believe it would be mutually beneficial and in our combined and individual best interests to join forces, so to speak.”

  Furthermore? Who talked like that? She did, apparently. Her ardent little face looked at him expectantly, like he should know what the hell she was talking about.

  “What?”

  “You’re in love with Honey.”

  His stomach clenched, the scene he’d just witnessed once again punching him in the gut. His warrior princess Honey, clinging to that useless mama’s boy like he was a prize.

  “No, I’m not,” he ground out for Emma’s benefit.

  She laughed and settled back on the couch. “Yes, you are. I know you are. You knocked Braydon Lawson down just to get to her when you were quarterbacking your way through the party up there.”

  Derek rolled his eyes. “It’s not the quarterback that pushes through people in football, it’s the running back.”

  “Whatever.” She waved his answer away. “You love her. I saw the look on your face.” She blinked before continuing. “I saw your pain.”

  He winced. A denial sprang to his lips, but she rushed forward. “I know exactly how you felt.” She took a deep breath. “That news ripped me apart too.” She crossed her arms and hugged herself. “Because I’m in love with Cam.”

  What was with the beautiful women throwing themselves at that stupid, spoiled oaf? Derek couldn’t help the look of revulsion he was sure was on his face. “In love with him? Cam?”

  Emma bristled. “Yes, Cam.” Her breathy enunciation of the syllable carried all the reverence of a whispered prayer.

  This fetching little sprite—a real tiger to come after him like she had—claimed to love that privileged, castrated, preening poodle. “Does the man even have balls?” he blurted. “Because he looks like someone who was born without them, seriously.”

  Emma made a surprised choking sound. “I’m sure he must.”

  Derek leaned toward her. “You’re sure he must? You’ve never actually seen them?” he teased.

  “Well, no, we’ve never…” she shrank against the couch cushion.

  “Then you’re hardly a reliable witness.” He raised an eyebrow and sat back. After a second he shot her a side glance. “In fact, you’re proving my point. A man with balls would bang a girl like you, if he really had them.”

  “I’m sure he’s all…” she made an indistinct circle in the air with her hand, “intact. Honey hasn’t complained.”

  He blinked at her name. A tiny cut across the heart. She hadn’t had the guts to tell him to his face in the hall, but she’d let Cam announce their engagement to hundreds of people from a stage, knowing he was there.

  Emma continued. “I just haven’t happened to have access to it…them…yet.”

  He sighed. “But you think you’re in love with him.”

  “I know I am.” She folded her hands in her lap and raised her eyes to his. A blush crept becomingly into her cheeks. She took a deep breath. “I’ve never loved anyone in my entire life like I love Cam.”

  The naked longing in her face got him in the gut. Something about her raw admission brought to mind the exact feelings he had for Honey. She was right. They were similarly screwed. And not how they wanted to be.

  He exhaled heavily and felt his outer walls of defense fall in the presence of her delicate frankness. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never done it with Honey either.”

  Her lips twitched, and a silvery glint in her hazel eyes sparked. “But it’s to be assumed that you have balls?”

  “Ha! Sweetheart, you don’t have to assume, I can prove it.” Derek jumped up from the couch and slowly started to unbuckle his belt, watching her face to see if he was shocking her.

  Emma’s eyes went wide but an impish smile tugged at her mouth, and she giggled.

  Gratified by her appreciation, he milked the moment, gyrating his hips and humming “Viva Las Vegas.” Emma’s peals of laughter egged him on. He took off his shirt and swung it over his head before adding a couple Elvis-style hip thrusts.

  “No, no,” she choked out between belly laughs, “I was just kidding! I believe you.” She covered her eyes with both hands.

  He paused until he saw her make space between her fingers and peer through them. He laughed. “You’re peeking!” He finished unbuckling his belt and undid the top of his pants.

  “No, I’m not!” she said, still looking at him between her fingers.

  He laughed harder. “You little liar!” He flopped down on the couch next to her, their thighs so close they touched, and didn’t bother to refasten his belt. He saw her eyes dart down to his naked chest and wondered what she was thinking.

  She blushed when she realized he’d caught her looking. He smiled and leaned closer, taking a strand of her shiny hair that had fallen in front of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear.

  Her answering smile lit the room. Their eyes locked, and, oddly, he would have sworn at that moment the only thing either one of them was thinking about was each other.

  He leaned his head down, and she tilted her chin up, a slight smile playing across her lips now mere inches from his own. Suddenly the door banged open against the wall and brought them up short.

  “Oh my God!” Honey squeaked. She and Cam stumbled into the room, straightening sharply and blinking at the scene on the couch.

  Derek looked down at Emma and tried to view the scene the way Honey and Cam must be seeing it right now. His belt unbuckled and the top of his pants undone, Emma half in his arms, his shirt off, Emma’s cheeks blushing that pretty shade of pink, the giggles still dying on their lips.

  Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing for Honey to see. Rub it in her face that he was a man made to be appreciated by a woman, even if it wasn’t her. She could kiss him last night, announce her engagement to someone else today, and he could pivot and be with another woman seconds later. Honey didn’t own him. He wasn’t her plaything to manipulate with bogus engagement announcements.

  He leaned back farther on the couch, but when Emma made as if to move away, he slung an arm over her shoulder and snuggled her close to him, taking a moment to bury his nose in her hair. He inhaled the sweet scents of coconut and vanilla.

  “Honey. Cameron.” He turned his head and nodded at each of them. “What brings you two down here? Shouldn’t you be up celebrating?” He felt Emma shift into a more comfortable position, but to his relief she didn’t throw his arm off or move away.

  “Derek!” Honey’s breath caught with a slight gurgling sound as she took in the scene. “And Emma. What a surprise to find you both here. Together.” She swallowed and stared at Derek’s naked chest. “A complete surprise.”

  Derek felt Emma stir beneath his arm, but again, to his surprise, she didn’t make a move to distance herself from him. Instead, she reached over and grabbed his other hand in both of hers and stroked it.

  Emma glanced from Honey to Cam and batted her eyes. “It’s been a surprising half hour for us as well.” She laid her head on Derek’s chest and turned, looking up at him with a gleam in her eyes he recognized.

  Cam scratched the back of his neck and addressed a spot somewhere over Derek’s head. “I guess, um,” he paused to clear his throat. “I suppose we’re interrupting…something.”

  Without taking his eyes from Cam, Derek pulled Emma’s hand up and guided it around his neck, moving her even cl
oser. “You really are,” he said in a husky voice. “If you could just shut the door on your way out.…” He turned his face to press into Emma’s hair, effectively dismissing Cam and Honey.

  “How do you two know each other?” Honey piped up with a tremor in her voice.

  Cam stepped forward, inching farther into the room. He dropped his hold on Honey. “Yes, how’d that happen?”

  Emma raised her head. “Oh, Derek and I met, what was it?” She looked at him with wide eyes, silently transmitting the beginnings of a gambit he was attuned enough to pick up.

  “Six months ago?” Her voice rose with the question.

  He returned her serve. “Must have been. You walked into the gym and—”

  With perfect timing they both laughed at the fake shared memory.

  “What?” Cam’s focus bounced from Emma to Derek and back again, but Derek shook his head and went on.

  “But you were seeing someone else then…or something.” He reached out and caught a strand of her hair, running it between his fingers again, much as he’d done to Honey’s hair last night. Did she remember? From the corner of his eye, he saw Honey watch the movement of his hand with wide eyes, but she didn’t say anything.

  Emma nodded, a small smile teasing her lips. “Or something.”

  He stared at her mouth. “And now you’re not.”

  Emma took a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling with the action. “No, apparently I’m completely free and available.” She stretched “available” out, lingering on each syllable. “I have no romantic entanglements of any kind.” She glanced at Cam before returning her attention to Derek.

  She put her hand on Derek’s chest and made a slow, wandering circle with her fingernail. It tickled, but he tried not to move. Cam’s eyes focused on the movement of her hand. Derek had to clamp down on his lips to keep from smirking.