Seven-Night Stand

by Nicole Helm

  He fished the keys to the shop out of his pocket and managed a weak smile. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Four

  Vivvy wasn’t sure what to expect of the upcoming evening. After the fireworks of the morning, who knew where Nate’s mind was? Maybe staying with him was a really bad idea. Family drama or possible rat infestation? It was a tough call.

  She watched Nate put away his tools. Though Harrington Airfield & Mechanics was a desolate, undecorated place, there was a meticulous order to everything. He didn’t toss things back into the large bin he’d pulled the tools out of. He cleaned, he examined, and then he put each one back in a precise place.

  He had pride when it came to Harrington. A kind of deep, meaningful ownership Vivvy had never witnessed and didn’t understand, but it showed in everything he did. It would show up on camera, she was sure of it. More than just a show about airplanes, it would be a show about connection.

  Nate would play the role of glue to an odd, complicated family. American Chopper meets Cake Boss with a really good-looking star. Big, manly machines playing the backdrop to a family business, and the drama of it all.

  For the first time in Vivvy’s career, her mind didn’t rush forward to marketing campaigns and promo. Instead, she considered the effect this would have on the Harringtons, on Nate. A show could exploit certain facets of their family dynamic, which could hurt Harrington even if it made good TV.

  It startled her enough to bring an abrupt halt to those thoughts. Her job was not to consider the outcome to the participants, only to Tyson. Feeling otherwise was so foreign, Vivvy chalked it up to her desperation for this idea to work. She was just analyzing every angle so she didn’t end up empty-handed again.

  Nate bent over to get something out from under the workbench. Denim stretched over his nice, tight ass. Better to focus on that for the time being.

  He pulled another bin of something out, biceps flexing as he pushed it onto the table. “You’re going to have to stop looking at me like that, Vivvy.”

  It made her smile that he said her name so much. As if he got immense pleasure out of saying it at the end or beginning of whatever comment he had. “Like what?”

  “Like you want to get me naked.”

  “I do want to get you naked.”

  He chuckled and wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans. “Lucky for you it’s about quitting time.”

  “What happens at quitting time?” She hoped the reality was just as exciting as her fantasy world.

  “Well, Vivvy, I believe you agreed to live dangerously and go home with me.” He stepped over to her.

  “That I did.” He had a way of making her feel that he desired her as much as she desired him with just a look, a grin, a comment. She didn’t have to know everything about him to know she enjoyed that.

  She’d learned a lot about Nate in the past two days. Just by watching and observing him. The care with his grandfather, the anguish when he’d briefly explained Millard’s condition, his embarrassment over his brash mother. There was a lot to be learned by watching a man interact with his family. The Harringtons had a lot of eye-opening interaction. She’d be crazy to get emotionally involved with any of them. Like her entire life, this was just another place she was passing through. Involvement wasn’t an option.

  Nate held out his hand, helped her to her feet from her seat on a makeshift bench. “It seems even my mother didn’t scare you away. I’m beginning to think you’re a mythical creature, Vivvy.”

  There it was again. Her name unnecessarily tacked on to the end of his comment. Didn’t get old the way he said it, or the heated way he looked at her when he did. She curled her fingers into his, eager to let her thoughts take a more sweaty turn. No more detours around feelings.

  “Do you live nearby?”

  “Just down the road. I’ll pull my car around front and then you can follow me down.”

  She nodded and walked with him toward the office building to gather her purse.

  Before they could step inside he turned to stop her, his face suddenly very serious. “You can change your mind about this, you know. Like I said last night, there’s a decent hotel in Addington. It’s about a forty-five-minute drive, but—”

  “I know I can change my mind.” She studied him for a second, tried to make out the reason for the furrowed brow and angry scowl. “Just out of curiosity, what would make you think I’d want to change my mind?”

  He shrugged and looked uncomfortable for the first time since she’d met him. Which of course, hadn’t been all that long ago. “My mother said some pretty nasty things.”

  “What, that you can’t keep your dick in your pants?” Vivvy worked up her best seductress smile. “Works for me.”

  He stared at her for a second before he laughed. “Are all California women like this?”

  She shrugged and sauntered into the office building. “I’m unique, remember?”

  …

  Nate refused to acknowledge that the strange empty feeling in his stomach was nerves. The thing going on between him and Vivvy? Just sex. So why would he care what she thought of his house?

  He didn’t. Not at all. He was just proud of the work he’d done to the small cabin for the past ten years.

  On his eighteenth birthday he’d used all the money he’d saved over the course of his childhood and bought the cabin just down the highway from Harrington Airfield. Not because he particularly liked the place, but because he wanted the hell out from underneath his insane parents’ roof and their 24-7 dysfunction.

  The place had been a dump, but the price had been right. Ry had gotten out of their childhood home through good grades and scholarships. Nate had gotten out through hard work and penny pinching. He hadn’t bought a car in high school like all his friends, hadn’t wasted his money on cigarettes or booze. He’d worked his ass off and had saved every penny.

  So the house was more than a house. After ten years, he’d put his heart and soul into it. Like any airplane he crafted, this house had become an extension of him. A symbol of what hard work and dedication could accomplish.

  It shouldn’t matter if Vivvy saw that. Hell, she wasn’t his girlfriend and there was no chance of her being that. She was LA through and through, and her time in Demo had a very distinct, very quick expiration date. Maybe she would be staying with him for a few days, but this was nothing more than a quick fling.

  Parking in the gravel drive outside his home, Nate tried to see it from an outsider’s eyes. The place was small. Which didn’t matter, because it was only he who lived there. Unless Ry came home. Still, two guys without a lot of crap fit relatively well.

  Nate had built the porch himself. It had taken almost a year to buy the materials, and another few months to fight weather and light to get the thing built. Now, it was his favorite part of the house. When he sat on one of the porch chairs he could look out at open farmland. A creek cut through the field across the highway and a few trees dotted the landscape, breaking up the usual monotony.

  On a good night, he’d sit on the porch with a beer, listen to a Royals game, watch the sunset, and feel good about life. On a bad night, he’d do the first three and curse the world.

  Today, he could pay someone else to build a deck—use a more expensive wood, get a bigger, more complicated design. But it wouldn’t mean as much. The simple porch he’d built as a younger man meant something, and that was important.

  Vivvy’s car pulled next to his. Her smile was wide and pretty as she studied the cabin and then turned to the view he’d just been contemplating. “This is great. You actually have a few trees here in Kansas.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She pulled out a fancy overnight bag, slipped it onto her shoulder. “You build this yourself?”

  She was joking, but he just shrugged. “More or less. Kind of a shithole when I bought it.” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t get too impressed, you haven’t seen the inside yet.”

  “Still impressive. I
consider myself a modern woman, but handy I am not. I had a leak in my drain one time and I tried to fix it myself. I broke the whole thing. Put me in front of a computer, I can figure anything out. Handyman stuff, I’m lost.”

  “Women.”

  She elbowed him in the stomach. Hard. And then took the stairs. “Did you build this porch?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Amazing,” she murmured, then stepped aside waiting for him to open the door. When he pushed inside without unlocking the door, more shock showed in her open mouth and wide eyes. “You don’t lock your doors?”

  “This ain’t LA.”

  She shook her head. “Last I checked Kansas had murderers and criminals same as California.”

  Nate simply waved the comment away.

  She rolled her eyes and stepped into the cabin. It had an open floor plan because he’d knocked out most of the walls when he’d redone the inside. There was a short hallway in the back that led to two bedrooms and one and a half bathrooms.

  In the living room was a leather couch he’d spent two years saving up for years ago, then the big-screen TV Ry had offered as rent payment one summer. The expensive sound system he’d added to the TV once things had really begun to take off.

  Now that he could afford it, he’d been thinking about redoing the small old kitchen with its ancient appliances, but hadn’t gone through with it yet. It didn’t reflect all he’d made Harrington into, but it was still more home than some cookie-cutter house he could buy would be.

  “It could use some paint,” she mused. “Some decoration.” She let a finger trail over the back of the couch. “Maybe a pillow or throw.”

  “Female frilly crap.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Better than Ivy Vines?”

  “Oh, I suppose.” She grinned, turned in a circle. “You’ve got a talent. Do you have before-and-after pictures?”

  She had two distinct ways of talking. One was business. It was clipped, polished, and focused. There was a chilly veneer when she spoke that way. He preferred the low, flirtatious way that included sultry laughs and led to much more interesting conversation. Not a chill to be felt. “Are you planning some new TV show in your head?”

  “Maybe. Home improvement shows are huge.” She continued to walk around the room, inspecting furniture and walls. The swing to her hips wasn’t purposeful, but he enjoyed it just the same. Then she stopped, offered a sassy over the shoulder look. “Especially with hot guys doing the work.”

  Nate folded his arms over his chest. “Not interested.”

  “Why not?” Her luscious lips poked into a pout.

  “Gotta fly, Viv. Working on planes, flying, it gets in the blood. The house stuff was a necessity. Not a job.”

  “A lot of people do a job out of necessity.”

  “I’m not a lot of people.”

  She smiled then, and business Vivvy faded away into just Vivvy. Sexy, unique Vivvy. “No, you’re not.” She sauntered over to him. “You haven’t given me the whole tour yet, you know? You have a bedroom, don’t you?”

  “Two, actually.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Well, then we have a lot of ground to cover.”

  …

  Vivvy sat cross-legged in the cushy porch chair and licked pizza sauce off her fingers. It was a nice night, a little cool, but it felt good. Especially after the workout they’d gotten in bedroom number one.

  Nate chuckled and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Stop laughing.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just those are the unsexiest pajamas I have ever seen in my entire life.”

  Vivvy looked down at the baggy pink sweatpants and ridiculous shapeless top. She’d had the pajamas for eons; something about the goofy red and pink lips printed all over the fabric never failed to make her smile. “They’re comfortable, and since I dress up every day, I like wearing comfortable clothes to bed. Besides, hotels are always cold.”

  Nate shook his head, chomped the last bite of his pizza. “So, you travel a lot?”

  “As much as I can. A lot of TV ideas never get past the research-on-computer stage, so I spend a good portion of time in LA, too.”

  “You like it? Traveling?”

  “Love it. Going somewhere new. Although places like Ivy Vines ruin the high a little. But, meeting new people and learning new things.” Vivvy paused to take a sip of soda. “Collecting crazy stories to tell. My parents were basically nomads, so I guess it’s in the blood.”

  “You don’t get along?”

  Vivvy shrugged, stared up into the brilliant starry sky. “They think I don’t understand them. They’re actors. It’s hard for them to think beyond themselves.” She wasn’t quite sure why there was sadness tugging at her. She hadn’t felt sadness at that lack of connection since she was a child trying to convince her parents to stay in one place. “We mainly lead separate lives now. No angst. No argument.”

  “Which would be the complete opposite of the Harringtons. Too alike to get along, too stubborn to get out of each other’s way. Loud, lots of angst and argument.” He smiled, but the opposite image didn’t cheer her up any, not after watching the way Nate’s mother talked to him. That was sadder than cold distance and a few honest comments.

  She attempted the smile to make him feel better. “Oh, let me guess, at Christmas you all sit around holding hands watching It’s A Wonderful Life?”

  Nate leaned forward, laughter echoing into the still night. “Now, that would be a sight. Let’s see. Harrington Christmas. Well, there was the one year Dad brought one of his girlfriends.”

  “He did not.”

  “Just as casual as you please. As if it was totally normal. Which from a kid’s perspective was still better than all the Christmases he promised huge presents and then didn’t show up.”

  Nate was trying to be flip about it, but there was a bitterness there, an anger simmering under it all.

  “Why don’t they get divorced?”

  “Who the hell knows?” Nate took a long drink from his beer. “I guess they enjoy making each other miserable.”

  Vivvy leaned back. The mood had fizzled considerably. She couldn’t imagine a life like Nate described. Her parents’ drama had ended the minute she’d left home. If she wasn’t going to soothe their tantrums or pet their egos, they had no use for her.

  Cold, detached, unloving.

  The businesslike detachment seemed preferable when compared to Nate’s dysfunction, even if he had a much easier way with emotion than she did. Vivvy had had a few uncomfortable moments when she had realized her parents would never love her like parents on TV loved their children, but then she had moved on. No emotional confrontations or mean arguments necessary. A few times the whole lack of emotion had been thrown in her face by the men she’d been dating, and then she’d moved on and learned to keep things casual and at arm’s length ever since.

  It was a good lesson to learn.

  “Your parents like each other?” He attempted to make it a casual question, sipping his beer, looking out into the starry night, but she couldn’t help but feel her answer was important to him in some way.

  “I guess.” She studied his profile, strong and handsome, and yet she wondered what effect his parents’ tortured relationship had on his brain. He seemed to channel it into positive outlets, but how much did she really know about Nate Harrington? “It was always more of them against me or me against them than any arguments between them. That’s why we don’t have much contact any more.”

  “I don’t know if that’s any better, Viv.”

  It would do her a world of good to keep those words front and center in her brain, because her philosophy was the exact opposite. Lack of connection meant people couldn’t hurt you. Play down the emotion and things wouldn’t hurt so bad. She’d learned that every time she had to say good-bye to a person or place that’d become important to her. Better not have any involvement than be hurt.

  “You’re going to have to understand this. I can’t ever let the
m be on TV.” His gaze stayed on the world beyond the porch, but his voice was fierce. “I like having you here, but nothing you can do is going to change my mind. It’s my name, my business, my family on the line, and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that.”

  “Why are you so convinced a show would hurt you or your family? It’ll give you more business, guaranteed. It’d be good for Harrington. How much your family and this place mean to you will show up on TV. People will watch and they’ll see that. They’ll connect to you—the way you connect to this place.”

  “People will watch and see my chain-smoking mother and my confused grandfather. They’ll see my sleazy father if he ever shows up again. People will watch and see something to make fun of. It’s too much to risk. Harrington means too much.”

  Vivvy wished she had the words to make him see he was wrong, but arguing with him when he was so determined wasn’t the answer. She’d show him he was wrong. She’d find some way to prove to him this could be beneficial.

  “I like you, Vivvy. I’m not trying to be a dick to you. It’s the way it is.”

  She forced herself to smile. “I like you, too.” And it was true. She liked Nate for Nate in some weird realm separate from the show. “Maybe we can take a break from show talk for the rest of the night?”

  “Now there’s an idea.”

  She moved out of the chair, closed the short distance to Nate, and slid onto his lap. “I don’t know about you, but I can think of a lot better ways to spend our time.” She’d never been one to put things on the back burner, but timing was everything. And now was the time for something that didn’t involve Harrington or Tyson. Now was the time for something that was just Nate and Vivvy.

  His eyes studied her face as his hands rested on her hips, then he pulled her farther onto his lap. He tugged on the hem of her shirt. “I don’t know why these butt-ugly pajamas totally do it for me.”

  “Well, then I’m glad I don’t pack lingerie for a business trip.”

  He looked up at her, eyes intense and dark, dark green in the dim porch light. “You said we weren’t going to talk about business anymore.”