The Best Mistake of Her Life

by Aimee Carson

  Memphis chuckled as he sat in the chair beside her. “No nails, I promise,” he said, patting the table, which had a clear coat finish.

  A perky waitress arrived to take their order, and when she retreated, Memphis turned back to Kate. “I promise you, no one in here has noticed nor cares that you are Kate Anderson.”

  “No pitying looks for the ex–Mrs. Worthington?” she said lightly.

  Memphis studied her face, but her relaxed expression matched her tone. Since they’d left the party, her tension had evaporated. Still, he knew that Tabitha’s malicious words had disturbed Kate, and he felt the need to offer reassurance. “Tabitha Reed is a useless phony.”

  “She’s been a thorn in my side since high school.”

  “I’m shocked.” His lips quirked. “Don’t you feel obligated to say nice things about her?”

  She shot him a look. “That was me being nice.”

  “Ahhh,” he said with a smile. “That was your delicate way of calling her a pain in the ass.”

  “Yes.” She clearly was fighting a grin. “But she was good for one thing.”

  He hiked a skeptical eyebrow. “Defining the word bitch?”

  Kate let out a laugh, and the sound rolled through him, warming his insides and delighting him more than it should. Her blue blouse brought out the color of her eyes and was casually youthful, not the political-wife style she usually wore. With her shoulder-length, wheat-colored hair framing her face, she looked younger than her twenty-eight years.

  And the new lightness in her eyes was infectious.

  “That, too.” She folded her arms on the table. “But I was talking about her scathing appraisal of my life.”

  He winced on her behalf, and, overwhelmed with the need to offer comfort, he covered her palm with his. “Kate—”

  As if acting reflexively, she gently pulled her hand away again, her soft skin slipping from his grasp. But, instead of her standard chastising look, she sent him a smile. Which was an improvement, but not as much as he would have liked. “While waiting in the bathroom for you to break up the gossip fest,” she said. “I realized you and Tabitha were both right.”

  His brow crinkled with doubt. “She and I sure as hell never agreed on anything.”

  “You both claimed I didn’t have a life outside of my marriage,” she said. “And it’s true.”

  Stunned by her words, he waited for her to go on, knowing the admission had to have been difficult. “I loved organizing the fundraiser functions,” she said. “But ultimately, Dalton reaped the benefits, not me.”

  Pleased with her confession, he leaned his elbows on the unusual table. “So, what is Kate Anderson going to do now?”

  “Something I thought about years ago. I’m going to start my own event-planning business.”

  Pleasure surged. “Good for you.” He tipped his head curiously. “What stopped you before?”

  “My parents encouraged me to wait until Dalton was more established in his career.” She pursed her lips. “But I suspect they were just worried I’d fail.”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “If anyone can make the business a success, it’s you.”

  “Thanks,” she said with a small laugh. “But in high school, Tabitha was the one voted most likely to succeed.”

  “And you were voted most popular.”

  As if unimpressed, Kate gave a tiny roll of her eyes. “Success is much more desirable than popularity.”

  Memphis let out a small scoff at the irony. “I’ve learned that the first can buy you the second.” His lips quirked in humor. “Did you know I was recognized by my senior class, too?”

  “And what notable title were you appointed?” she said, amusement shining in her eyes. “Best killer smile? Most likely to bring a woman to her knees?”

  Memories of the bathroom hit, and desire surged in response. “You know how much I love it when you’re on your knees,” he murmured.

  Instantly her gaze grew dark, her throaty tone confirming her sensual gaze. “Careful, Memphis.” Folding her arms on the table again, she leaned in, the proximity increasing the feeling of seclusion. “That comes dangerously close to male chauvinism.”

  “If it’s any consolation …” He held her gaze, more than pleased with the sense of intimacy. “I won the most insane vote.”

  “Fitting,” she said softly. “Which crazy event earned you that title?”

  “Right after your senior prom, I dived off the Biscayne Bridge. It was a great way to rid myself of a little sexual frustration.”

  Her brows rose curiously. “If you spent most of my prom in the parking lot with Tiffany Bettingfield, where does the sexual frustration come into play?”

  He took her hand, expecting her to resist again. Instead, Kate laced her fingers with his, her heated gaze and the small success thrilling Memphis to the core. Memory, and the soft, promising contact set his body on fire. “She wasn’t you.”

  The scorching look that passed through his sinfully sexy eyes sent a heated flush surging through Kate’s body. Holding his hand felt almost decadent, and her heart thudded so hard there was no room in her chest to breathe. But she couldn’t have pulled away again, even if she’d wanted to.

  After several moments filled with a mutual desire, his gaze intense, Memphis said, “Where are we going from here, Kate?”

  Kate stared at him, trying to process his question, knowing he was referring to their relationship. As the internal war was fought over what to do next, she lifted her gaze to his gorgeously mussed brown hair. And this time she had firsthand knowledge that it was the work of her fingers. Palm pressed against his, she subdued the urge to smooth his hair with her other hand, frightened by the tender feelings that the image brought.

  Before she could resolve the battle being fought in her head, Memphis went on. “I get that you don’t want to add any more fuel to the gossipmongers. And clearly, going public with any kind of relationship, outside of a friendship, will do just that.” His fingers curled more firmly around hers, and she basked in the electric sensation. “But I won’t allow you to continue to pretend the chemistry between us is because you’ve gone so long without sex.”

  She licked her suddenly parched lips. “I—”

  “Because it isn’t.”

  Her shoulders drooped a bit, giving in to the weight of the overwhelming truth. “I know.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to continue, his voice low and determined. “From now on, until this reunion is over, if I want to take you to bed I will.” A thrill shot through her. He rubbed her palm with his thumb, sending a potent shimmer of desire straight between her legs. Her now weak and shaky legs. “Hell,” he said. “If I want to sleep with you every night between now and the final party, I will.” He paused, as if letting the statement fully sink in before going on. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  As the sultry tension edged higher, she stared at him. He wasn’t trying to intimidate her. He wasn’t being a tyrant. He was simply a man who had reached the end of his patience.

  “I understand,” she said.

  He paused, as if expecting to hear an argument. When none came, he said, “So, do you agree to my conditions?”

  Kate blinked once. Hard. She could refuse his demands, and that would be the end. Memphis would walk away and never look back. And although she’d come to terms with her mistakes long ago, she’d finally accepted that nothing she did now could ever undo what she’d done back then, either, which was a huge step forward to taking back her life.

  Memphis would eventually leave town in search of the next big stunt, she accepted that inevitable truth. But for the first time in years the end of the day would be something to look forward to. And it was about more than great sex. It was the laughter, the companionship. She couldn’t bear the thought of missing out on this chance.

  She’d wanted to be with Memphis since she was a teen, and, right or wrong, she was done pretending she didn’t. “Agreed,” she said.

  Hi
s thumb went still, and his gaze grew impossibly black, as if someone had poured melted dark chocolate into a glass full of whiskey.

  A hamburger platter appeared on the table before her, a tantalizing smell reaching her nose, and Kate blinked in surprise, looking up at the young waiter responsible for the intrusion. He was dressed in baggy pants, a T-shirt and an eager expression.

  Her expression probably reflected her desperation and pounding heart. Neither of which had anything to do with the arrival of food and everything to do with the way Memphis was looking at her—as if he was ready to drag her into the nearest bathroom.

  “Enjoy your meal,” the waiter said, placing a matching plate in front of Memphis. Instead of leaving them to their dinner, the guy turned to Memphis. “I took up BASE jumping three years ago. I’m a big fan of your work.”

  Memphis maintained his hold on Kate’s hand. “Thanks,” he said to the waiter.

  The man assumed a relaxed posture, as if ready for a long discussion. “I was at the New River Gorge the year you and that Anderson guy made a simultaneous double gainer BASE jump.”

  Memphis shot the waiter a genuine smile. “That was a good one.”

  “It was a beauty,” the waiter said with enthusiasm. “I was stoked for days after.” And then his face scrunched lightly, as if trying to remember. “And wasn’t the jump you two did from the top of the Anderson office building the one that injured your friend?”

  At the resurrection of the awful memories, Kate’s heart sputtered to a stop, and Memphis’s thumb on her palm went still, the pleasant expression wiped from his face.

  Tension tightened in the air, but the BASE-jumping waiter was oblivious as he went on. “I hear he almost died. Is he walking better now?”

  The clatter of dishes, chattering guests and music filled the pause, the waiter clearly expecting a response, but it was Kate who recovered first. “Brian Anderson is doing just fine,” she said with a strained smile.

  Memphis cleared his throat and pulled his hand from Kate’s. “Yeah,” he muttered. “He’s great. Thanks for the food.”

  As the waiter retreated, Memphis started to eat, avoiding her gaze. Heart pumping at the reminder of another awkward part of their past, Kate shifted her eyes to her meal, no longer hungry … and missing the feel of Memphis’s hand on hers.

  Two days later, Kate gripped her iced tea and tried to enjoy the sunny, bird’s-eye view of Miami from the rooftop bar of the Anderson Towers—the perfect mix of elegant decor and a relaxed, Sunday-afternoon attitude. Earlier she’d been finishing up brunch with her family at the Country Club when Memphis had called and asked her to meet him here. After forty-eight hours of silence she’d been grateful for the contact. She’d also been grateful for a break from defending her choice of a date to her parents. They were unhappy to hear she considered Memphis a friend. Imagine how disappointed they’d be to know he was so much more? Or at least, he used to be more.

  After the disastrous reminder of reality at dinner, Kate was no longer sure.

  The conversation had been strained as they’d eaten their meal at Rick’s. Memphis had been quiet, almost withdrawn, and she’d been lost in the horrible memories of Brian’s accident—and all the things she’d said to Memphis that day….

  Her stomach rolled, and Kate pressed a palm to her belly. When Memphis appeared on the rooftop deck, she gave up her efforts at self-comfort.

  Because, although the office building was part of her family’s extensive holdings, he strolled onto the teak deck as if he owned the place, seizing her immediate attention. The athletic grace. The easy, yet commanding attitude. In jeans and a snug T-shirt, every muscle was lovingly emphasized, and he had a small backpack slung over one shoulder.

  But of all the possible locales, why had Memphis wanted to meet her here?

  She knew the answer had to do with Brian’s accident. Hating the barrier between them, she realized it was time to address this painful part of their history. Searching for a way to start the conversation as he drew closer, Kate said, “Most people come to Miami to enjoy the view of the ocean, not the tops of skyscrapers.”

  Memphis ignored the subtle inquiry. He signaled the waitress and ordered a drink before dropping into a seat at the table, setting his pack next to his feet. “I’m not most people, Kate.”

  No, he definitely wasn’t.

  The whiskey-colored, thickly fringed eyes oozed the usual sex appeal, but there was a subtle hardness that had been there since the waiter had mentioned the accident. She scanned his face wondering what was going through his mind, and she remembered her brother’s warning words. Memphis wouldn’t be around much longer. And time was running out.

  Fear squeezed her chest, an emotion she’d refused to acknowledge until now. Intuitively, she realized this was the reason why she’d dreaded asking Memphis for help.

  When he was around, her heart was at its most vulnerable.

  The waitress returned with his drink and then retreated, and Memphis drawled, “How are good ol’ Mom and Dad?”

  She kept her tone light. “As well as ever, thanks for asking.”

  His mouth twitched with amusement. “Still rich?”

  She steadily met his gaze. “Richer,” she said. “That’s the thing about making smart financial decisions. Money seems to grow as a result.”

  “My parents would say being smart doesn’t help if you have no money to invest.” There was no bitterness in his tone. “Did my name come up at the Country Club?”

  “No,” she said, swallowing hard after the lie. She carefully set her glass down, and continued with the truth. “We discussed Dad’s retirement. This next election will be his last.”

  “Good thing he stuck around long enough to get your ex elected.”

  She shot him a pointed look. “He wasn’t my ex during the last election.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, as if he’d just remembered. But she knew it was just for show. “You two were pretending to be the happily married couple while you were locked away in your chastity tower …” He paused, his eyes gleaming with an amused light. “Taking care of yourself,” he added with emphasis.

  She held his gaze, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, her eyebrow lifting a touch. “There are advantages to not sharing a bedroom with a man.”

  “And what would those be?” Eyes creased with humor, he crossed his arms, the biceps stretching his shirt. The resultant tug of female appreciation momentarily made it a struggle to remember.

  “No middle-of-the-night, unpleasant discovery that the toilet seat has been left up,” she said. “No dirty socks littering the floor.”

  His lips twitched. “Is that all?”

  Kate shot him a pointed look. “No dealing with a man who refuses to return your call.”

  She’d known he’d needed time to recover from the waiter’s remark, so she’d tried hard not to be hurt during his two days of silence. But Memphis obviously had no intention of sharing what was going on in his mind. And, as she steadily held his gaze, the moment stretched to the point of discomfort, until a waiter dropped by to refill her iced tea, eyeing Memphis curiously, as if recognizing his face but not placing the name.

  When their tête-à-tête had been restored, she said, “I think he wanted to ask if you were Memphis James.” She studied him for a moment. “Does the publicity bother you?”

  Furrows of subdued humor appeared on his forehead. “The problem with being in the public light is that I’m never sure if people are being nice because they want something from me or not.” He didn’t sound resentful, only vaguely amused. He briefly turned his gaze to the city skyline. “Which makes me wary of every friendship. At least with Brian I always know exactly where I stand.”

  A gentle prompting seemed in order. “You wouldn’t know it by your visits back home,” she said as lightly as she could. “You hardly ever come back.” When he didn’t respond, she leaned forward, searching his eyes, needing to tackle the wall between them. “Memphis, about Brian’s accide
nt—”

  “Do you remember what you said to me that day?” He tipped his head, ignoring her words. The pressure in her chest grew uncomfortable. “You told me you hated me and never wanted to see me again,” he said.

  Her quoted statement smacked her full-on, and Kate closed her eyes, the fear and the anger and the sorrow coming back. The days following Brian’s accident had been the worst of her life. When she lifted her lids, she met his gaze. “I didn’t mean it.”

  But Memphis had left Miami anyway, and she hadn’t seen him again until his recent return to town.

  He tipped his head skeptically, his lips quirking at the edges. “Your words sounded heartfelt at the time.”

  “I was upset. The statement just slipped from my mouth.”

  The doubtful look he shot her was still filled with skeptical humor. “Was it an accident when you shoved me out the door of the hospital waiting room?”

  “It was a stressful time, Memphis,” she said, the horrible pressure in her chest increasing. “Brian was hurt, and we were dealing with the news he might not survive the brain swelling from his head injury. My parents were falling apart. And they needed me to be strong.” Heart frantically beating, she didn’t stop to catch her breath. “They were so angry at you about the accident, and I had just gone back to Dalton after you and I had …”

  When she didn’t continue, he lifted an eyebrow, as if daring her to go on.

  And if she’d hoped he would make it easier by filling in the blank for her, she should have known better. “Can’t you say the words?” he said.

  “Slept together,” she finally finished.

  “You never told your family about that night.”

  It wasn’t a question, and she was sure Memphis didn’t expect her to answer, but she tried anyway. “I don’t think it would have gone over well,” she said, wincing at the understatement.

  Memphis let out a low chuckle that lacked much amusement. “I don’t suppose it would have.”

  “Look,” she said seriously. “You and I both know it would have made a bad situation worse,” she said. “Brian needed to focus on recovery. And my parents …” Words failed her again so she left it at a helpless shrug.