Kissing Bree

by JoMarie DeGioia

  Her encounter with Kip last year, and her disclosure of it to Derek, should have embarrassed her but she was already feeling stronger. Just knowing Derek would have her back, whatever that might entail, was enough to give her the courage to get through this darn day.

  After showering in her own place, she chose a sheath dress of light beige. It had a lace overlay of sky blue and the hem came to just above her knees. It was May first, not Memorial Day after all, so she slipped on a pair of strappy beige high-heeled sandals. After blow-drying her hair, she’d left it long and straight, so it fell to her shoulder blades. Her mother’s blond hair would be wound tight in an up-do, which was another reason to leave hers down.

  She hardly wore makeup at work, but she put in a little more effort today. Everyone would be studying her, of course. She was Arthur and Margaret’s only child. A touch of mascara, a sweep of blush, a dollop of lip gloss and she was ready.

  A few minutes later Derek rang the doorbell and was waiting on her porch. Whoa, he looked good. He wore an expensive yet understated suit and his hair was as neat as she’d ever seen it. In the recent past she might have thought he looked like the uptight jerk she used to think he was. Today? Today he was smoking hot and stole her breath.

  “You clean up really nice, Derek.”

  He smiled and his hotness factor rose exponentially. “And you look… Damn, are you naked under that lace?”

  “It’s an illusion.” She twirled a little. “See?”

  “I see a zipper I’m going to pull down later.”

  She laughed and stepped aside to let him in. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Taking my mind off the coming crap storm.”

  “Just breathe, baby. Your parents want to see you. That’s all.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know them like I do.”

  “Maybe not, but I know the type. Just nod and smile and then we can get the hell out of there.”

  “Don’t tempt me. We have to stay through the meal but we can leave before the dancing starts.”

  “There’s going to be dancing?”

  He looked horrified but she knew that was a front, too. “You can dance, can’t you?”

  “Yes. Sorry.”

  “Well, you won’t have to today.”

  “If you say so. Are you just about ready?”

  She nodded and picked up her small tan leather clutch. Locking the front door behind her, she headed down the front walk to Derek’s waiting Lexus.

  He opened her door and stood there, his head tilted to one side. “What?”

  “I was just thinking that I couldn’t have ordered a better date for this thing.”

  He smiled. “Don’t even think about ordering any kind of date. You’re stuck with me.”

  His words tumbled through her mind. What did he mean by that?

  Taking his words at face value, she shrugged. “Good to know.”

  They left Cypress, headed for the interstate and the long drive to Heathrow.

  Chapter 15

  Bree was fidgeting, her knees going up and down as he drove toward Orlando. She looked gorgeous in that blue dress that made her look like she was naked underneath, but her posture was rigid and her jaw clenched.

  “Breathe, baby.” He settled a hand on her left thigh, almost ignoring how silky-smooth her skin was beneath his fingertips. “It’s just a party. Keep telling yourself that.”

  She looked at him, blowing out a breath as she nodded. “It’s just a party. Okay. I can do this.”

  “I’m going to be there, too.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry I asked you to come. Oh, not that I don’t want you there. I do!”

  “Bree, try to chill. Even just a little. We’ll see your parents. Eat some hors d'oeuvres. Drink some wine. Easy-peasy.”

  She gave a delicate little snort. “If you say so.”

  He gave her leg a pat and took his hand from her. “Trust me. No matter how hard it gets, we can leave. Just go.”

  Her leg started to jiggle again and she spread her own hand on her knee. “Promise?”

  “On my honor.”

  “Okay.” She blew out another breath. “Good.”

  She directed him to take the next exit and he followed the rest of her instructions through what was clearly a very exclusive part of Orlando. They drove past houses that he couldn’t see from the road. Most were walled in and protected by iron gates. The lush grass and meticulously-landscaped shrubs would look right at home in Brookline, Massachusetts. Eddie had wanted to keep the house in the divorce, but Derek knew what that house was worth and there had been no way in Hell he would let Eddie keep it.

  Their mother had made the house a home when he and Abby had been growing up, no small feat considering how big and ostentatious it was. Once he, and then Abby, had moved out it became his mother’s prison. She had been little more than an employee, hosting his father’s dinners and directing his staff. Now that she was living in the home without Eddie, he hoped she was learning to just be herself. For herself. And when he moved her to Cypress he would make certain she kept the house if she still wanted it.

  “Here.” Bree pointed to the left. “That’s the drive.”

  He’d been so wrapped up in his mother’s situation he’d almost forgotten where they were headed today. He pulled into the drive and past the iron gates. These were thrown wide open, no doubt welcoming the guests for today’s event.

  “Oh, boy,” Bree whispered.

  Once past the gates, the property opened up in a big way. The grounds were more extensive than his family home’s, which could be expected since here they had the luxury of land that wasn’t always the case up north. The long drive was set with paver stones and led to a courtyard with a fountain in the center. Derek pulled up near the home, taking in the three story estate home. It was done in Spanish Mediterranean, with squat columns and miles of curved tiles on the peaks of the roof.

  “Nice digs,” he teased.

  She slid him a smile. “Right?”

  A valet opened Bree’s door and she stepped out onto the drive. Derek handed the guy his key when he hurried around to his side and stepped over to stand very close to Bree.

  There were lots of cars on the drive and as they turned to face the wide entry she froze.

  “Ready, baby?” he whispered.

  She straightened her shoulders and gave a nod. He’d seen this particular move of hers before. He was beginning to think of it as her power stance.

  Placing his hand on the small of her back, he gave her a gentle push. “Then let’s do this.”

  The place was a crush, with very nicely dressed people milling about and talking. They ranged in age from twenties up to sixties, if he had to guess. There was the impression of space from the soaring ceiling above the tiled entry, and the house was well decorated. A sweeping staircase curved upward from the entry to a gallery above. Servers circulated with trays of tiny fried, baked or stacked things and others carried flutes of champagne.

  “Do you want me to grab you a drink?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not yet.”

  Not yet. That sounded ominous. “Your call.”

  “Sabrina,” a woman called from the staircase.

  Derek saw a woman who looked a lot like Bree glide toward them. Her eyes were the same stunning blue as Bree’s, but hers appeared guarded and a little cold.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Bree’s voice was laced with something Derek might call fear if he didn’t know her so well by now. She was apprehensive, but she didn’t fear her mother.

  The woman grasped Bree by her shoulders and air-kissed her cheek. Stepping back, she regarded Derek. “And whom do we have here?”

  “Derek Stone, ma’am.” Derek held out his hand which she took with her own. Her touch was a chilly as her eyes. “I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

  “Margaret James.” She dropped his hand. “How long have you been a friend
of my daughter’s?”

  “Mom,” Bree put in.

  “I’m just asking.” Her gaze slid away from Derek and as he watched he saw the wary affection the woman had for Bree. “How is Cypress Corners?”

  “It’s good, thanks.”

  “And your job? Is it going well?”

  Bree nodded. “Very well, thank you.”

  “Bree handled my recent house purchase,” Derek put in.

  Mrs. James arched a brow at him. “Oh? You live in Cypress as well?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “And what do you do there?”

  “Mom,” Bree said again.

  “Sabrina, I’m curious.”

  Bree and her mother stared at each other for a long minute. Derek fought the urge to ring a bell so they could come out fighting. Both women were slight. Delicate looking, but fierce. The guests milling about appeared mildly curious, but from having attended these kinds of events in the past Derek guessed they were more concerned with their own jockeying for positions in this social setting. No one was going to come between a mother and her daughter. Not in their family home.

  “Sabrina, you came.” A tall, broad man with salt-and-pepper hair strode toward them. “Welcome home.”

  ***

  Bree turned to her father, biting back the retort that she wasn’t home. This was strictly a visit, a required one and one that wouldn’t be repeated until Thanksgiving at the earliest.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  To her shock he enveloped her in a hug. She kept her hands at her sides, at a loss. This was new. When he released her she blinked up at him. The smile he wore put her on her guard.

  “It’s so good to see you.” He turned to Derek. “And whom do we have here?” he asked, echoing her mother’s very question.

  Bree shot Derek a look of apology before she made the introductions this time. “Dad, this is Derek Stone. Derek, this is my father. Arthur James.”

  The two men shook hands, holding on for a long minute as her father clearly sized up Derek. Poor Derek. He hadn’t signed on for this baloney.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. James.” Derek was the first to break their hold, clearly in deference to her father. “You have a lovely home.”

  “Thank you.” Her father’s blue eyes narrowed. “Stone. Hmm. Do I hear a Boston accent?”

  “A bit, I’m afraid.”

  “You live in Cypress.”

  Bree started to tell him to leave Derek alone but Derek held up a hand.

  “I do, sir. I work there as well.”

  “You do.” It wasn’t a question but Derek apparently knew the unspoken rule of fatherly interference.

  “I’m the in-house counsel for the development.”

  Her father looked impressed. “In-house counsel. Stone. From Boston.”

  “Are you compiling a dossier, Dad?” Bree asked.

  To her astonishment, her father laughed. “Maybe. Derek, are you related to the Stone law firm in Boston?”

  Derek’s lips thinned but he nodded. “I am.”

  “A very respectable firm.”

  “Yes.”

  Her father beamed another smile in Bree’s direction. “Please mingle, Sabrina. Take Derek and enjoy yourselves.”

  Bree’s mouth dropped open. “Thanks, Dad. We will.”

  Her mother gave her a searching look, but it didn’t feel nearly as judgmental as her usual scrutiny. Together the older couple headed further into the crowded party to meet and greet their guests.

  “That was strange,” she whispered.

  Derek shrugged. “What, the inquisition?”

  Bree couldn’t put what she was feeling into words. Her father didn’t do hugs. He certainly didn’t do warmth. She just gave a small shake of her head.

  “Don’t worry about it.” The smile Derek gave her was small but bolstered her. “It’s a father thing.”

  Oh. The inquisition. That was something from her father that wasn’t out of character.

  “You’ve been on the receiving end of that kind of thing before?”

  “Not me. But if I had a daughter you better believe I’d question the hell out of any guy who wanted to date her.”

  She caught what he meant even if he didn’t say it out loud. His father was abusive. Derek was protective of his mother and sister. He would be on the lookout for any signs of danger if he had a daughter.

  Her belly clenched. He would make a wonderful father with that wide streak of protectiveness.

  “Now, your mother is another story.”

  Bree laughed, as he’d obviously expected her to. “She seemed to like you.”

  “What’s not to like?”

  She placed her hand on his sleeve and tilted her head toward the main salon. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Lead on, Sabrina.”

  Shooting him a glare, she saw the smile teasing his lips. “Watch it, Due Diligence.”

  “There she is,” she said, lifting her chin toward a large portrait hanging over the mantle in the parlor. “My grandmother.”

  Derek stared up at the painting, his eyes wide. “You look a lot like her.”

  “I know.”

  “She was beautiful.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “It’s true. There’s more to it, though. She looks like she has strength.” He took her hand in his. “Like you.”

  She just smiled. If only.

  As they entered the main party area she recognized a few of her father’s associates and her mother’s friends. Kip’s parents were here, of course. They never missed a chance to sit at her father’s table.

  “There’s Bitsy and Chip,” she said in a low voice.

  Derek arched a brow. “You’re not serious.”

  That made her smile. “Don’t even tell me that you didn’t grow up around a Muffy, a Chip, a Skip… I can go on.”

  “Please, don’t. Yes, the white elite tends to pick the most ridiculous of nicknames.” Derek finally snagged them a couple of drinks. “Here. To Buffy and Skip.”

  She sipped, letting the bubbly wine tickle her nose. The sting and strangeness of her mother’s probing stares and her father’s interrogation began to recede. “Like water off a duck’s back.”

  “Hey, there.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Nautical references are my thing.”

  “Ducks are nautical?”

  “They swim, don’t they?”

  She started to say something when she spied Kip walking towards them. “Oh, God.”

  Derek’s dark eyes narrowed as her sort-of ex came closer.

  “Bree, you look hot,” Kip said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Ever the charmer.”

  Kip winked and turned to Derek. She compared the two men in a quick minute. Kip came out on the losing end of that match-up. Long-limbed and slender, Kip had the blond Arian preppy thing going for him, from his Hilfiger polo to his Topsiders. He was clean-shaven and his hair was swept back from his forehead.

  “Kip, this is Derek,” she said.

  “Derek…” Kip began.

  “Stone.” Derek kept his hands at his sides. “Chip, is it?”

  Kip’s fair cheeks turned pink. “Kip.”

  “That’s better, I guess.”

  Bree swallowed a laugh. The social niceties were so ingrained in her she had to ask after him. “How are you, Kip?”

  “Stellar, darling.” Kip flashed that phony smile of his, his teeth big and white. “Seems that your jilting me made me a bit of an oddity.” He shot Derek a sharp look. “Seems no one could imagine why any girl would refuse me.”

  “All right,” Derek put in.

  Kip bristled and faced Bree again. “It seems that the girls in our crowd wanted to take care of me. Soothe my hurt feelings, and what not.”

  She cringed. “Spare me, please.”

  Kip’s patrician nose when straight in the air. “Nevertheless, I’m in high demand now. So I thank you, Bree.”

  “I’m so glad I could help.”
Her tone was chilly now, but Kip was so self-absorbed he didn’t catch on. “If you’ll excuse us?”

  Derek apparently didn’t have to be told twice. He took Bree’s elbow and steered her away from the braying ass. Kip gaped at them but when Derek began to rub his thumb on the inside of her elbow she soothed a little. Caught a little heat, too. Breathing in Derek’s scent, she rid herself of Kip as easily as that proverbial duck shed water.

  “That guy is a dick,” Derek said.

  “I know. When you called yourself one a few weeks ago, you were definitely misguided.”

  He smiled, bright and hot at the same time. “Thank you.”

  She covered his hand with hers, stroking the backs of his long fingers. “And thank you for that.”

  He stared into her eyes and she felt like tumbling into their depths. Of running from her parents’ party and falling into his new big bed in his new big house.

  “Keep looking at me like that and I might have to compromise your virtue in the study.”

  She laughed out loud. “Why, Derek Stone! How outrageous.”

  His smile turned warm and easy and she felt lighter.

  “Come on, Bree.” He reached up to brush her hair over her shoulder, letting his fingers stroke over her collar bone. “Let’s get something to eat. Miles to go before we can escape.”

  “No joke.” She sighed as Kip’s parents wound their way through the crowd toward them. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “I’m right here.”

  Her heart tripped at his words. “Thank you again.”

  She shouldn’t need a man at her side. She didn’t, which was one reason she’d refused to have anything with Kip’s arrangement last year. This man, though?

  With Derek she could imagine staying at his side forever. It wasn’t what they were, though. It wasn’t what they would become. Her heart might have a different idea but her head knew what was what.

  Still, for the next couple of hours she would lean on him as much as she liked. Looking up at the portrait of her grandmother, she winked. Take your power where you can. It was one of her grandmother’s favorite sayings, and Bree would follow that advice today.

  Her heart and head could argue about this tomorrow.