The Best Mistake of Her Life

by Aimee Carson

  But she needed to finish the conversation he had avoided on the roof of her family’s building.

  She stared at the far wall, gathering her courage. “I didn’t mean it.”

  Memphis’s arms tightened around her back, and he gave a sleepy “hmm” as his legs shifted slightly against her.

  “When we were at the hospital,” she said, her words low, careful. “I didn’t mean it when I said Brian’s accident was your fault.”

  His chest stilled, as if he’d stopped breathing, and his arms tensed, the small movement barely perceptible. But the stillness and the silence in the room matched the coiled tension in his body, as if he were remembering that moment so many years ago. For a second she wondered if he was going to pretend he was asleep.

  She swallowed hard, her hand curling against his chest, and she lifted her head, propping her chin on her fist.

  He was staring up at the ceiling.

  “Say something,” she said.

  One hand around her waist, he folded the other beneath his head as he dropped his gaze to hers. His expression was impassive, but she sensed he was gearing up to disagree with her.

  In an effort to lighten the mood, she lifted a brow teasingly. “At least promise me you won’t jump out the window to avoid the conversation.”

  “We’re a wimpy two stories up.” One half of his mouth eased into a position of humor. “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Relieved he wasn’t retreating, she softened her expression, her brow crinkling in amusement. “It’s a challenge when you don’t have a parachute.”

  “There’s a line of bushes beneath the window.”

  Her brows pulled together in shocked doubt. “How does that keep you from breaking your neck?”

  “I’ve done it before. You just have to know how to fall,” he said. She stared at him in disbelief as he sent her a half smile, pushing a tangled strand of hair from her cheek. “Don’t worry, nowadays I land better jobs with state-of-the-art equipment.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “I don’t want to hear about the early days of your work, do I?”

  “No, you don’t,” he said. As if he sensed her discomfort, he went on, clearly amused she was worried. “Look, Kate. I’m good at what I do. It’s the one area of my life where I’m just as meticulous as you,” he said.

  And then the faint humor melted from his face, replaced by one that looked pained. He dropped his gaze to his fingers as he reached out to absently rub a tangled lock of her hair. “I should have called the jump that day, but I didn’t,” he said, his tone low, and her heart stalled in her chest. “I checked the wind speed and knew it was too much, but I didn’t call the jump. Anything above five mph increases the risk.”

  Though the ache in his voice was heartbreaking, she was relieved he was at least willing to discuss the accident.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said again.

  Memphis let out a sharp scoff. “Yes, it is. Brian chose the location, but I’m the one who insisted on taking the jump that day. I’m the reason my best friend almost died, almost lost the ability to walk. Not to mention the limp it left him with …”

  “You couldn’t have known. And Brian doesn’t blame you.”

  “How do you know?” he said, his voice strained. “Have you discussed it with him?”

  She slowly drew in a breath. “No,” she said. “By the time he was well enough to hold a discussion, it hardly mattered anymore.”

  He raised a skeptical brow. “So how do you know what he thinks?”

  She steadily held his gaze. “I know he misses you.”

  The fingers on her hair grew still, and Memphis’s gaze grew unfocused, as if lost in memory. “No matter what your parents thought of me, Brian always treated me like an equal,” Memphis said. “He always treated me with respect.”

  “You’re the only brother he ever had,” Kate said, the emotion clogging her throat. His arm tightened around her waist, but he said nothing, so she tried again. “Just talk to him about it, Memphis.”

  “Maybe,” he said, but his tone wasn’t encouraging.

  She shifted higher on his chest, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Promise me you will.”

  His whiskey eyes grew dark, and his hand left her hair for her hip. Her breath hitched in her throat, and breathing became difficult. Which got worse when the hard muscles of his thigh slid into a more intimate position between her legs, shifting her higher, her sensitive breasts rubbing against his chest.

  His voice rumbled. “I’ll think it about tomorrow,” he said. And he threaded his fingers through her messy hair and brought her mouth to his.

  She’d worry about the tangles later.

  Five days later Kate was scanning the main ballroom of the Grand Royal Beach Club when Memphis murmured from behind, “Please tell me you wore that dress for me.”

  Heat surged, and a smile threatened. “Who else?” she said, forcing herself to keep her eyes forward.

  The vast room was adorned in black and white, complete with candlelight, exotic fresh flowers and swaths of white satin gracing the ceiling. Reunion guests were trickling in, and after months of planning, a bit of nerves was to be expected. Instead, the red cocktail dress made her feel beautiful, sexy and ready for anything. Which was fitting, because Memphis made her feel exactly the same way. After almost a week of spending her nights with Memphis and her days planning her new business venture and preparing for the reunion, she should feel exhausted. All she felt was exhilarated.

  Which made her doubly sad Memphis would eventually leave.

  A sharp pang twisted her heart, but she pushed it aside. “If one more person asks me when Dalton will show up I’m going to scream.”

  “I suppose I should be worried you chose that outfit in order to make your ex jealous.”

  Kate lifted her eyes heavenward, because there wasn’t the tiniest trace of concern in his voice, mostly because the man knew he had nothing to worry about. When it came to commanding a woman’s attention, Memphis James was second to no one.

  “Or maybe you wore that dress to outshine your replacement,” Memphis said.

  Kate shot Memphis a look over her shoulder. “When they do finally show up, would you please not call her that to her face?”

  “Would you prefer me to call her the soon-to-be new Mrs. Dalton Worthington?” he said. “Or perhaps your ex-husband’s future ex-wife?”

  Kate bit back the smile lest she encourage him further. “How about we just call her Olivia, since that’s her name?” she said smoothly, finally turning to face him.

  And just like every time she took in his form, she struggled to keep her eyes from devouring Memphis. In a T-shirt and jeans, he sapped the strength from her knees. In a custom-tailored black suit he was devastating. He was still the bold, impossible-to-predict stuntman, and the beautiful clothes failed to tame the whiskey-colored bedroom eyes and the sexily mussed brown hair. She blinked hard, trying to focus.

  “Well,” he drawled, skimming his eyes down her form. “Whatever she’s called, there isn’t a chance in hell she’ll compare to you.”

  Pleasure bloomed in her chest. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll admit it’s refreshing not to be required to don the conservative political attire.”

  “What are the requirements?”

  “To blend in as tastefully as possible,” she said, smoothing a hand down the silk covering her hip. “So the bright red coloring of my dress would have been a bit of a risk.”

  “Hmm,” he said, the deep rumble skittering along her spine. “Too bad, because I love risk.”

  “You don’t just love it,” she said dryly. “You live it.”

  And, as predicted, her parents had voiced their intense displeasure over Memphis’s leap off the Anderson Tower office building. Technically she was their youngest offspring by a good two minutes, but her middle-child peacemaker skills had been given a real workout.

  “If you’re not taking risks, you’re not living,” he said
, shifting closer. “And I’m pushing the envelope tonight. Because if I’d known what you were going to wear to unveil your bold new look, I wouldn’t have agreed to continue to pretend to be just your brother’s best friend. Clearly you’re taking your new role outside the political realm seriously. You’re not trying to blend in at all.”

  Although the pleated bodice and fitted waist of the sleeveless dress were tasteful and elegant, it was her first real foray into daring. “The plunging neckline would have been a real no-no,” she said.

  His eyes briefly landed on her breasts, sending a shimmer down her spine that immediately spread deliciously to more sensitive parts. “Makes me doubly glad I’m not in politics,” he murmured.

  Kate laughed. “No campaign advisor in their right mind would take you on.”

  He tipped his head. “I bet the elegantly cool Kate Anderson was a campaign advisor’s dream.”

  “The deep V in the back of this dress would have sent Dalton’s advisor into a tizzy.”

  “Interesting,” Memphis murmured. He stepped closer and skimmed his hand across the bare skin of her back. “It’s having a similar effect on me now.”

  The warmth of his palm and the memories it stirred momentarily interfered with her ability to breathe. But she still had a job to do. “I have to check in with security now,” she said with real regret. “I don’t want any members of the media crashing the event. The last thing I need is to have them trailing me trying to get a picture with me, Dalton and his fiancée.”

  Hand on her back, Memphis leaned in way too close, his rumbling voice creating goose bumps down her neck. “Wouldn’t matter if they did,” he said. “No one would see anything beyond you.” He straightened, his heated gaze scuttling her thoughts, and Kate tried to remember what task she’d been about to do. Fortunately, Memphis reminded her. “Come find me when you’re done speaking with security.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE large ballroom was the picture of posh—no tacky disco balls, crepe streamers or balloons for the graduates of Biscayne Bay Preparatory Academy. And while Memphis was perfectly comfortable in the surroundings, he was grateful to finally find Brian in the smaller adjoining reception room, the walls plastered with memorabilia and photos from ten years ago.

  When Brian spied Memphis approaching, a spark lit his friend’s eyes. “I saw the little blurb in the news about someone taking a leap off of the Anderson Tower.” Brian’s gaze twinkled with amusement. “There was a suggestion the jumper might have been you.”

  “All speculation.”

  “You caused quite a stir.”

  “It was a slow news day,” Memphis said.

  Of course, the media had dwelled more on his poverty-stricken childhood in Miami and the fateful accident than on Memphis’s current success. His lips twisted at the irony. He’d come back to town wondering if time would have changed anything.

  Apparently, not by much.

  “I know most of the members of the reunion committee,” Brian said as he lifted his beer in the direction a picture a little farther down the wall. “So I’m surprised that photo of the two of us survived the cut.”

  Memphis bit back a smile. “I suspect your sister used her considerable power as chairperson to override any objections that cropped up.”

  Brian held Memphis’s gaze over his beer bottle. “It’s probably a hint she’d like to have you around more.” A muscle around Memphis’s eye twitched at his tone, and Brian took a swig of his beer, the moment lingering as if he was waiting for Memphis to comment. When he didn’t, Brian went on. “We could really use your expertise on the TV show,” he said. “I’d make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

  The question tunneled deep into his chest. Memphis hadn’t wanted to come back to his old hometown and he sure as hell didn’t want to give up his professional goals, especially given how little his reputation had changed in this city. But his time with Brian had been good, not to mention his time with Kate….

  But technically they weren’t even dating. Just working on satisfying years of longing while pretending in public—or trying to, anyway—that they were just friends. The conditions that had seemed reasonable in the beginning now left him with a vague sense of growing dissatisfaction.

  “I appreciate the offer, Brian,” he finally said. “But settling in one place doesn’t fit with my long-term plans. And you know how it is. This isn’t a nine-to-five profession. If someone calls, I go. The job takes me all over the world.”

  Brian gave a light shrug, but his tone was full of meaning. “It doesn’t have to.”

  Fighting the pleasure the thought of staying brought, Memphis moved farther along the wall of photos, coming to a stop at the picture of the two of them. It’d been taken on a day Memphis had traveled across town to visit Brian after school. They were both wearing dirt-bike apparel and a considerable amount of dust from a vacant lot by Biscayne Bay Preparatory Academy—a parcel of land that had long since been replaced by a strip mall. A pang of nostalgia swept through Memphis, not for the loss of the lot but for a time when things were simpler. Less complicated.

  And a hell of a lot clearer.

  “Man,” Brian said softly, staring at the photo in front of Memphis. “I don’t think I would have survived those years without you to keep me sane.”

  “The way you complained about your high school, I’m surprised you came tonight.”

  “People grow up.” Brian gave another vague shrug. “Things change,” he said. Brian eyed him closely. “Speaking of change, are you sure I can’t convince you to work with me?” he said as he took several steps closer to examine the photo of them, his limp noticeable. Memphis gripped his glass, his smile slowly fading, because he felt each uneven step as if they were flattening his lungs, making every breath sharp.

  It would have been so much easier to be the one who had landed in the hospital.

  “The show has a great season coming up,” Brian went on. “Like I’ve said before, we could really use your expertise.” His grin returned. “It’d be just like old times.”

  The words were like a punch to the gut, because Memphis longed for those days, as well. But too much had happened. Too much had changed since their reckless stunt. But if nothing else, he needed to clear the air.

  “I should have called the jump,” Memphis said.

  Brian let a bark of laughter. “Which one of the many?”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, but Memphis pressed on. “The one that I asked you to join me for. The one that landed you in the hospital.”

  With a faint frown, Brian slowly turned to lean his shoulder against the wall. For a few moments he simply studied Memphis, as if adjusting to the serious tone.

  And the topic of the conversation.

  “The wind was too strong,” Memphis said. And, for several seconds, he relived the horror of watching Brian be blown too close to the adjacent building that was undergoing construction, his chute catching on a corner of scaffolding. The forceful slam of Brian’s body against the outer wall.

  His friend … hanging lifeless.

  Nausea rolled, and Memphis pushed himself to go on. “I knew the wind speed was too strong and I should have called the jump.” Of course, he’d been in no frame of mind to make rational decisions that day. And that had been his fault, too. He buried the disturbing memory, focusing on the here and now.

  Brian narrowed his eyes, as if he didn’t like the direction of the discussion. “I had been BASE jumping the same number of years as you.” Brian shot him a skeptical look. “It was my idea to take up the sport.”

  “But I had more jumps under my belt.”

  “Dude,” Brian said, a faint frown on his mouth. “This isn’t a competition. And don’t you dare pull the I-should-have-known-better card with me.”

  Frustrated, Memphis frowned. “I just—”

  Brian stepped forward, his tone firm, his expression almost offended. “It was my life, Memphis. It was my decision. I loved what I did and I’m prou
d of the things I’ve done,” he said, pausing for a moment before he went on. “And I don’t want you claiming responsibility for my failures any more than I want you claiming my successes.” Brian sent him a serious look and laid a hand on his thigh, the leg that had been left with a limp. “This isn’t yours to own.”

  The seconds ticked by as Memphis fought the need to disagree, his frown turning into a scowl along the way. Until he lost the fight and he opened his mouth to speak.

  “Memphis,” Brian said, cutting him off. “You know I love you, man. But you were never responsible for me. And frankly,” he said, his face growing skeptical. “Your presumptuous assumption kind of pisses me off.”

  A surprised laugh burst from Memphis, his friend’s response nothing like he’d anticipated. “Okay,” he said, rubbing a hand on his neck, struggling to adjust to the unexpected turn of events. “But it wasn’t my intention to piss you off.”

  “Good,” Brian said, the moment lengthening as he eyed him warily. “Are we straight now?”

  The years of guilt, the load he’d carried on his shoulders, were difficult to discard. He wasn’t convinced he didn’t carry his portion of blame, but sharing it with Brian made the weight easier to bear. Memphis inhaled a small breath, feeling lighter. “We’re straight.”

  Brian hiked an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’ll accept my offer to help me out with the show? It would be good to work together again.”

  The promising potential wound tight, competing with the rather large mountain of lingering doubts. But before he could answer, there was a stir of conversation and activity just beyond the doorway, the larger reception room now buzzing with a new energy. It took Memphis several moments to realize what the change was all about.

  Dalton and his fiancée had arrived.

  Leaning against the wall of the main ballroom, Brian said, “Is he a bouncer?”

  “If he isn’t, he should be,” Memphis said, his brow crinkling in humor as he stared at the topic of discussion standing a mere twenty feet away.