But Jolene wasn’t most mothers.
“Marriage sucks,” she told Nikki. Not that Jolene knew firsthand. She’d never actually been married. Her longest relationship had lasted all of five weeks. Then she’d gotten pregnant and he’d taken off. The end. “Why you would want to go and do something so foolish, I’ll never know—”
“I’m not getting married,” she cut in. “Really. I’m not.”
“But Izzie said Winona said that you were caught cavorting at the motel with—”
“It wasn’t like that. He’s not my fiancé.” Nikki thought about telling Jolene the truth but then nixed the idea. While she didn’t want to be the nice girl Winona had made her out to be, she wasn’t ready to paint a scarlet letter on her chest and accompany Jolene down to the nearest honkytonk. “He’s just a…a friend.”
A smile tilted the corners of Jolene’s mouth. “I knew that old woman must have gotten it wrong. No way would my baby do something so stupid. Men are great, cupcake. Loads of fun. But never, ever sign your life over to one of them. You might as well hang a sign on your back that says Property Of.” Jolene kissed Nikki’s cheek and then rubbed at the lipstick. “You’re pale, cupcake. You really should try wearing a little more blush. Maybe a bronzer.” She turned and eyed her reflection in one of the mirrors before reaching into her bag for a tube of Crimson Delight. “You’re a pretty girl. You should show off a little more.” Her gaze dropped to Nikki’s standard black skirt and white blouse. “Get a little fancy. Wear something dramatic. Something red.”
Nikki liked red as much as the next person, but it wasn’t her signature color. “I’ll do that.”
“Get rid of all this drab and go for bold,” Jolene went on, shoving the tube back into her clutch. “And spicy.” Her gaze caught the paint swatches that lay scattered on the countertop. “Something like this.” She fingered one of them. “Does this come in a lipstick?”
“It comes in latex. I’m trying to decide on new colors for my kitchen.”
“Oh.” Jolene wrinkled her nose. “Why you’re so dead set on renovating that big mess, I’ll never know. Why couldn’t you have bought yourself a nice condo or something? They still have that one available just a few doors down from me.”
Which is why Nikki hadn’t opted for the condo. That and the fact that when she gazed out the front window of her dream home, she wanted to see lots of trees rather than a bunch of divorced forty-somethings skinny-dipping in the community hot tub.
“The house is really great—or it will be by the time I’m finished with it. Renovating is sort of fun.”
Jolene wrinkled her nose again. “Make sure you wear gloves when you’re painting. The fumes will kill your skin.” She glanced at her watch. “Jesus, would you look at the time? I have to go. I’ve got a dinner date. New guy. I just had to stop and make sure you hadn’t gone off the deep end. Hugs and kisses.” She whirled, and in a blur of red she was gone.
Nikki had just shut and locked the back door and was headed toward the stockroom when she heard the squeal of tires and the grunt of a familiar exhaust.
Her day just kept getting worse.
Frantic, she swiped the back of her hand over her lips and rubbed at the lipstick. She combed her fingers through her hair and tried to pat it back under control. She’d just rebuttoned the top buttons on her blouse when she heard the faint knock.
The smell of apple pie hit her as she pulled open the door to see her great-aunt.
Izzie was a tiny old woman with a head full of snow-white hair and a smile that warmed Nikki from the inside out. There wasn’t a hint of makeup on her face; she believed in a woman’s natural, God-given beauty. She wore a pale floral-print dress and white patent leather shoes. She smelled of vanilla extract and cinnamon and gas fumes.
Nikki stared past the old woman to see Winona’s ancient Buick idling in the background.
“Thank the Lord.” Izzie thrust the warm pie into Nikki’s hands. “I was afraid I was going to get here too late. My lattice crust broke and I had to redo it. And then Winona was rushing me on account of we’ve got bingo tonight, and I got nervous and the crust broke again. But all’s well that ends well. I’m here.” She beamed. “My baby niece is getting married.”
“About that—” Nikki started, but Izzie cut her off.
“I told you not to jump the gun and buy that big old house all by yourself. You should have waited. That way you and Jake could have picked out your place together. Oh, well. You can always sell it.”
She glanced down at the pie and swallowed. “Thanks.” Thanks? But she and Jake weren’t picking out anything. And she certainly wasn’t selling her house. “It’s not what you think. I’m not getting married.”
“What?” The old woman’s brows drew together. “But Winona said that she found you and your panties and—”
“That is,” she cut in, “I’m not getting married at this moment. It’s just an engagement. A really long engagement.”
“Nonsense.” Relief gleamed in the old woman’s eyes. “There’s no reason to wait when you’re sure. You are sure, aren’t you?”
No. “Yes.” She nodded. “He’s definitely the one.”
“Good, because when Winona told me what a compromising position she found you in, I knew there was no way that you would have been doing God knows what with God knows who if you weren’t serious. My Nikki would never do such a thing. Now Jolene…” She shook her head. “I wish I knew where I went wrong with that one.”
“You didn’t go wrong. You did your best. Mom’s just…Mom.”
Izzie’s expression softened and she smiled. “At least I got you right. So—” she smiled “—have you decided on a date? A place? What about the wedding colors? Mary Margaret’s daughter had hot-pink, and it was the most garish thing I’ve ever seen. You should really go for something bright and cheerful. Yellow. I love yellow. You could carry a bouquet of daisies. Or buttercups. Or maybe both.”
She looked so hopeful, so happy, that Nikki found herself nodding. “Sounds great. Say, shouldn’t you be going?” Nikki peered past Izzie and waved at the old woman sitting behind the wheel of the gigantic silver land barge. “You wouldn’t want to be late to bingo.”
“I do have to get going. I just couldn’t concentrate until I spoke to you myself and dropped by a little token of my happiness.” She kissed Nikki again—and doubled the guilt churning inside of her. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, dear, for Sunday breakfast.” Her eyes twinkled. “I’m making blueberry waffles.”
Uh-oh. The last time Izzie had made waffles, Nikki had been voted Most Studious her senior year of high school. Jolene had protested—she’d been voted Most Talented with a Mascara Wand—by having dry toast. It had been the most uncomfortable meal of Nikki’s life.
“I can’t wait.” Nikki watched as Izzie turned and waddled toward the car before shutting and locking the door. She barely ignored the urge to down a gallon of perm solution—anything to end the misery right here and now.
She settled for drowning her troubles in Izzie’s prize-winning pie. The first bite sent a rush of sugar to her brain that killed the guilt and stirred a burst of happy. Mmm…Things weren’t really that bad. Nothing she couldn’t deal with.
By the time she’d taken her tenth bite, her brain buzzed and she didn’t feel half as guilty. Rather, she felt desperate. She’d saddled herself with a fictitious boyfriend and she needed a plausible story to explain him. And fast.
Name? Jake McCann.
Occupation? Independent consultant—of what she wasn’t sure, but with any luck, folks would be too impressed by his title to ask.
Native Houstonian.
They’d met online and their personalities had magically clicked.
They both liked picnics.
They both loved Survivor.
They both enjoyed football and rooted for the Houston Texans.
They’d been friends first, and when Bill had hightailed it to Vegas, Jake had rushed to comfort her. The frien
dship had evolved and—bam!—they were now hopelessly devoted to one another.
They weren’t sure how they were going to work out the long-distance aspect—he did live over three hours away—but both were willing to try.
If only.
The thought followed her as she stored what was left of the pie, as well as the other goodies, in the small portable refrigerator. She retrieved her purse and walked toward the back door. Crazy, she knew. The last thing she should feel was regret for a man she didn’t even know. Sure, they’d had sex. Spectacular sex. But it was still just a one-night stand. Meaning it was now over and she should get on with her life.
Forget.
If only.
The notion struck again, followed by a very vivid image from last night.
She saw Jake looming over her, felt his rough hands trailing down her stomach, between her legs. He parted her slick folds and one finger slid deep and…
Nikki forced aside the memory and flicked off the lights. Her hands trembled on the knob as she punched the lock and pulled the door shut behind her.
The sun had set hours ago, and the parking lot sat dark and ominous beyond the reach of the back porch light. Nikki made her way toward her SUV and hit the unlock button.
She climbed behind the wheel and tried to ignore the strange sensation that danced along her nerve endings. She’d felt it last night when she’d been at the cotton candy booth. An awareness.
Someone was watching her.
He was watching her.
If—
She squelched the traitorous thought before it could take root this time.
Jake McCann had already left town.
Passing through, he’d said.
Thankfully.
Otherwise, he would have been front and center, telling everyone he wasn’t her boyfriend, much less her fiancé. Or even her friend.
The entire town would then think that she was nothing more than a chip off the old chopping block. A carbon copy of her mother.
She wasn’t.
Her mother had liked the endless string of men. The variety. The excitement. She’d been a small-town girl with big-city ideas and she’d been bored as hell.
Nikki, however, liked living in a small town. She liked eating the same blueberry muffin for breakfast every morning and seeing the same faces day after day. Just like her aunt Izzie.
Sort of.
She didn’t like the routine quite as much as her aunt, but she wasn’t itching to spread her wings, either. She was somewhere in the middle.
Stuck.
Not for long. She couldn’t keep putting up a front for both women. Eventually she would have to decide. Izzie or Jolene? Good or bad?
She’d felt bad to the bone last night.
Thanks to Jake.
She hung a right and started down Main Street, her thoughts going to him. He was probably in the next city by now. Or even a different state. Who knew? He could have crossed the state line into Arkansas. Or Louisiana. Maybe he was playing the roulette table in Lake Charles at this very second. Or eating at some five-star restaurant in Little Rock.
Or sucking down beers at the Shade Tree.
Nikki slammed on the brakes, her gaze riveted on the black-and-chrome motorcycle parked in front of the local sports bar located just a block from her salon.
Her heart jumped into her throat and her pulse raced and her hands tightened on the steering wheel.
He couldn’t be…
He wasn’t…
Even as denial echoed through her head, dread settled in the pit of her stomach.
There was no denying the motorcycle. Even more, there was no denying the sudden zing of electricity that snaked up her spine.
Jake McCann was still here. And Nikki was totally screwed.
JAKE KNEW IT WAS HER long before he felt the tap on his shoulder and heard her soft, “Hey.”
Ever since he’d ridden back into town just after sunset, he’d felt her—a sizzle of vibration that swept his nerve endings and pulsed in the back of his brain. The feeling had sucker punched him last night at the carnival when he’d spotted her, and the sex had only intensified things.
Shit.
If anything, she should have fallen off his radar by now. She should be home in bed. Exhausted. Recuperating after he’d drained her of so much energy.
Instead she stood directly behind him, her luscious scent filling his nostrils. Her soft breaths echoed in his ears. Sexual hunger bubbled inside of her, and his gut tightened with renewed need.
Yep, he needed her, all right.
Not her, mind you.
Sure, her hair was some of the softest he’d ever felt and he’d liked the soft gasp she’d made when he’d stroked the spot just below her navel. And, hell yes, he’d liked the way she’d stared up at him, into him, when he’d been inside of her, as if she could see past the chains that bound him to the man beneath.
He forced aside the damnable thought. Sex, he reminded himself. There wasn’t anything special about Nikki other than the fact that she was female.
That’s what he told himself as he turned and his gaze collided with hers.
For a split second, he wanted to dive headfirst into the warm, golden pools that reminded him of the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting behind the bar.
Potent.
Intoxicating.
Trouble.
When he’d first discovered the truth of what Sam Black had done to him, he’d been terrified and disgusted and mad as hell. He hadn’t wanted to believe he’d become a monster and so he’d crawled into a bottle to escape. The booze had helped him forget and pretend that he was still human.
For a little while.
But then the hunger had caught up to him, and since he’d been drunk off his ass and weak, it had overwhelmed him to the point that he’d done the unspeakable.
Almost.
But then Garret had shown up. The vampire had hauled Jake to his feet and fed him until his sanity had returned. And then Garret had taught him how to never, ever let the hunger get the best of him.
He steered clear of the hard stuff now, afraid to let down his defenses. Terrified to lose his hard-won control.
The way he had last night.
No. Not completely.
Not ever, ever again.
“What are you doing here?” she asked before he could think too hard about his past.
“Talking to you, darlin’.”
“I don’t mean here—” she stared around “—I mean here. I thought you were just passing through.”
“I am. I’m here through next Sunday and then I’ll be leaving.”
“Next Sunday?” At his nod, her gaze lit with panic. “But that’s eight days from now.”
“A woman who can count.” He winked. “I like that.”
“Eight,” she repeated as if she were still trying to absorb the fact. “But you can’t…I can’t…I—I thought you were leaving,” she finally blurted. “That’s the only reason I slept with you.” When he arched an eyebrow at her, she added, “Okay, so it wasn’t the only reason, but it was the deciding factor. One night. That was it.”
“That was it.”
“Exactly. Except now you’re here and everyone thinks you’re my fiancé. I know,” she rushed on, “this is supposed to be one of those no-strings-attached things, and it is. They think you’re my fiancé, but that doesn’t mean you have any obligation to me. You don’t. It’s just that Winona—she’s the grandmother of the guy who owns the inn—walked in to clean the room and found me naked and then she assumed I couldn’t have spent the night having sex because I’m more the buddy type of woman and it hurt my feelings and I couldn’t help myself, I told her the truth. But then she assumed that since I am more the buddy type of woman I wouldn’t just hook up with anyone so I must have a new boyfriend and then by the time I walked into work—bam—I had a new fiancé.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
She nodded. “Hazards of a small town. Not that
it’s any big deal. Or it wasn’t any big deal. I was just going to pretend like we were having a long-distance relationship and then fade you out of the picture slowly, but here you are. Here.” Her lips trembled and her cheeks flushed and he could practically see the thoughts racing through her mind. “What am I going to do?”
“You could tell the truth.”
She seemed to think for a second, and there was no mistaking the fear that flashed in her gaze. “Not an option,” she finally said with a firm shake of her head.
“Find someone else.”
“Half the town has already seen you.”
“So hire an escort who looks like me.”
“Small town, remember? The closest thing we have to an escort service is old man Hamilton. He can waltz like nobody’s business. All of the senior ladies want to go to the annual silver cotillion with him, and so he goes with the woman who makes the biggest and the tastiest pot roast. I’m out of luck because a) he doesn’t have as much hair or as many teeth as you and b) I can’t make a pot roast to save my life.” She caught and held his stare. “I need you,” she told him.
Forget it. It was there on the tip of his tongue, but the word need kept echoing in his brain. As crazy as the whole story seemed, it was true.
She really and truly needed him.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” she added. “I can pay. Just name your price.” He could see the desperation in her eyes and hear it in the tremble of her voice.
And damned if he could resist.
“Okay,” he told her. “Here it is.” And his lips touched hers.
8
HE WANTED SEX.
The truth echoed in Nikki’s head as she left Jake sitting at the bar and headed for the ladies’ room. She could feel his gaze on her back. Her skin prickled and excitement chased up and down her spine. Her lips still tingled from the feel of his and her heart pounded double time. She pushed through the swinging door marked Gals and headed for the sink. She shoved her hands beneath the faucet, splashed her heated face and tried to come to terms with what had just happened.
Love at First Bite Bundle Page 6
