by Robyn Thomas
“Beth? You okay?”
She sank down onto the floor in front of the fire and wrapped her arms around her raised knees. “I’m good. I know Jake said not to make any calls unless there was an emergency, but this kind of fits that bill. I need a man.” The clunk in her ear warned he’d dropped the phone and her words replayed through her mind in super slow motion. “Not you,” she blurted. “And not the way it sounded, either.”
“I’d say not. Not after last night.”
Her finger had jabbed the disconnect button long before her brain had decided that was the right course of action. What an ass.
Seconds later loud hip-hop music disturbed the stillness of the night, and she snatched the phone up to shush it. “Forget it. It was a bad idea to call you.”
“I take it back,” Brad said. “Start over and tell me what you want.” She stared in brooding silence at the phone until he attempted to answer for her. “You’re ready to let a man into your life?” He hesitated, as if he was censoring what he was about to say. “Do you have anyone particular in mind?”
“No. I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want to repeat mistakes I’ve already made, either. I have news. Are you sitting down?”
His voice sharpened. “What’s up? Did something happen?”
“Yes and no. I had my first-ever date today with someone who wasn’t you.” He made a rude sound but she kept talking. “I’m not kidding. I could never work out why I didn’t like anyone you set me up with, but Jake knew straightaway.”
“Jake knew? You’re taking dating advice from some hotshot whose life is an endless game of musical beds? This ought to be good. What did your rock guru say?”
“Actually, it was what he didn’t say.” Her voice had risen and she snuck a worried look at Jake, comforted by the gentle rhythm of his snoring. “You’re my best friend and I love you dearly,” she said in a quieter tone, “you know I do, so please don’t take this the wrong way. The best thing about Jake, the thing I adore so much I can hardly see straight, is that he has nothing at all in common with you.”
“That might be the worst thing you’ve ever said to me. You know what? I’m going to hang up now and chalk the midnight insults up to stress and lack of sleep.”
“It’s not about you! I need you to step back and really listen to what I’m saying. All the men I’ve ever dated have looked like you, acted like you, and reminded me of you. And you’ve chosen them all. Don’t you see? You think I should be with someone very similar to you, and I… don’t.”
“Beth!” She waited out his shocked silence then winced at his curse. “You’re right, but I did not do that on purpose. I’m so sorry. I guess I thought one of them would have the thing I lack— whatever that is—and you’d finally be happy.”
“You don’t lack anything. We tried to make our friendship enough but it wasn’t, and when we started making each other miserable I ended it. So now, put your best friend hat on for a minute because I’m stupidly close to falling for a rock god with long hair, ripped abs, and an undeserved reputation as a player.
The whole world is watching and when he leaves, I don’t want to be standing around without a plan for getting over him.”
“Get a grip, Beth. You just met him.”
“So? How long does it take for lightning to strike or an earthhquake to happen or someone to ring your doorbell and set your life on a completely different path? You know how careful I am and how slow I like to take things, so perhaps you can explain to me why I don’t feel like I’m rushing?”
“I don’t know.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. “Maybe the fake engagement has distorted your perception?”
“I like him despite that. We’ve skipped forward about three hundred steps and yet the gaps in our history and understanding of each other seem to be filling in behind us. He gets me in a way that shouldn’t be possible, and it’s almost as if he’s being absorbed into the structure of my house. He touches things and I know that ten years from now I’ll still be thinking of it as Jake’s mirror or Jake’s room.” Or heaven help me, Jake’s glass-slipper breasts. “You know how I feel about this place, I don’t share easily.”
“Take it easy. Don’t start crying.”
Too late. “He’ll be gone in a few days and then I’ll need your help to keep busy and start what’s probably going to be a never-ending hunt for someone new. I want you to enlist the help of everyone we know, and everyone they know, to ensure I have a date with a different man every night for the foreseeable future.
You should ditch any preconceptions about who I’m looking for because I want to meet them all—bald men, short ones, old, ugly, even unemployed.”
…
Jake’s muscles locked into one giant ball of tension as Beth’s words registered. “I want to meet them all—bald men, short ones, old, ugly, even unemployed.”
He rolled over and blinked. His anger at her for making a traceable phone call after he’d warned her not to dissipated in a split second once he got a look at her. She sat on the floor in front of the open fire with her knees hugged to her chest as if she were desperate for consolation.
“I already know no one will measure up,” she said into the phone in a resigned tone that tugged at his heartstrings. “That’s why I’ll accept all candidates. Eventually I’ll find someone to make a life with, and in the meantime I won’t be curled up in a corner because my winning lottery ticket turned out to be a fake.”
Her gaze swung toward him and she cleared her throat.
“Oops. Rock gods are light sleepers and when they wake up they eavesdrop shamelessly.” She laughed at something she heard through the phone. “I will. Good night, Brad. Love you, too.”
The soft line of her lips thinned as worry settled over her. “I should probably apologize for making the call, but sometimes a girl’s gotta do…”
He nodded. The midnight planning session combined with her hunched figure and defensive tone clarified what she’d left unsaid. She was struggling with their public engagement far more than he’d realized, and rather than sex, she needed support.
Pushing himself to his feet, he held his hand out to her. “If you could do anything, without leaving the house, what would it be?” She didn’t budge from her knee-hugging position and her expression remained wary. “If Brad was here, what would you do?” He almost choked on the comparison. “Cook, sleep, play charades?”
Her startled laughter infused the entire room with warmth.
“I saw you scowling at Simon. You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” She got to her feet and nibbled on her lower lip as she studied him. “I’m not big on games, but I wouldn’t mind torturing you with Mr. Darcy.”
“What?”
Her wide green eyes, full of hope, fixated on his face. “I think we should snuggle on the couch and have a Pride and Prejudice marathon until dawn. I’ll make fresh popcorn, not that awful microwave stuff, and some strong coffee so we don’t miss the good stuff.”
There was no way in hell…
Beth would be happy, end of story. He summoned a smile, hoped it didn’t look like a grimace, and swept his hand wide in an after-you gesture. “Popcorn.”
Surprise registered on Beth’s face, then she crossed the room and treated him to a fierce bear hug. “I was kidding. I wanted to see what you’d say.”
Relief and confusion warred within him, but his body sang at the press of Beth’s curves. “This suits me.” When had he stopped censoring what came out of his mouth?
“Do you like cognac?” She laughed. “Don’t answer that. One sip never hurt anybody and I want to share it with you. I’ll get some glasses, you look after the fire, and I’ll meet you back here in two minutes.”
True to her word, she was back before he’d had a chance to miss her. “Spin the other way and stretch your legs out,” she said. She poured two meager splashes in the oddest glasses he’d ever seen and closed her eyes, making an appreciative sound as she swirled one beneath her nose. “Oh
, so good. Don’t miss the aroma.” She handed both glasses to him and smiled. “Hold these while I get a spot, okay?”
The waft of vanilla-scented alcohol wasn’t subtle, and his head had barely begun to spin when she stood on the couch between his legs and braced her hands on his shoulders. He held the glasses wide, an incredible sense of rightness swamping him when she lowered her bottom onto the couch between his thighs and hooked her legs over his. He’d imagined her reclining against him but this was better. He wanted to face her, hold her, talk to her.
The last was a revelation.
She reached for one glass, then stopped him taking a sip from the other. “This is”—she blushed and appeared lost for words— “it’s not just a nightcap. It’s an engagement toast. From my father.”
“I thought—”
“Yeah,” she nodded, “he’s been gone for eight years. But cognac gets better with age. While he was still able, he bought two bottles for me so that he could be a part of the most important milestones in my life. The first bottle was supposed to be for my wedding, and the second, well let’s just say he hadn’t thought through the whole pregnancy and alcohol thing that carefully.”
His face must’ve given him away because she laughed as if to say I know.
“Brad and I didn’t open the first bottle. He didn’t want to and I should have known right away that things weren’t going to work between us.” Her agitation left her and she smiled. “Our engagement is a bit of a cheat, but it feels right to raise a toast to it.”
Her hand splayed across his chest. He grabbed it and a diamond-encrusted gold band winked up at him. “Nice ring. Where’d you get it?”
“It’s my mother’s eternity ring. I’ll wear it on a different finger if it bothers you, but I have to admit I was hoping to keep it on this one till morning.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Wisdom could be a stretch—I was aiming for somewhere between amusing and memorable. Our engagement announcement in the papers was bigger than most.” She silenced him with a sharp look and flashed her ring. “And since it’s official, in that way, at least, I see no reason why I can’t celebrate with you. It means a lot to me to reconnect with my dad this way.”
The emotion clawing at his throat made him fear for his vocal cords. Would Beth regret this or was the timing such that she needed one of her parents in lieu of the other?
Her hand dropped from his chest and she held her glass up in invitation. “Cheers?”
They could do better than that, surely? “To taking the long road and admiring the view along the way.”
Her smile warmed him far more than the heated liquid possibly could. “My view includes a rock god with a waxed chest and a giant lizard tattoo on his shoulder. I love this view. To the long road.” She clinked her glass against his and took a cautious sip, letting the cognac sit on her tongue for long moments before she swallowed. Clearly he should’ve done the same, because his throat stung from downing his drink in one go.
Beth’s expression mirrored her words. “Wow. Now I know why he chose this.” She reached beneath one end of the glamorous wrap that skimmed her shoulders and he laughed when he saw that she’d taped a chocolate bar to it. “What?” she asked, the picture of innocence. “Cognac’s supposed to go well with dark chocolate. Wanna help me test the theory?”
She made it hard. Offering him chocolate warmed by her skin while she slid her wrap aside to reveal perfect breasts straining against one thin layer of shiny fabric. Her legs were bare, the splits in her long nightgown doing a fabulous job of making her appear naked from the waist down. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on what she was saying with all of that going on?
“Ready?”
He shook his thoughts off then did a double take. She’d snapped off three squares of chocolate and if he kissed her, nibbled against her lips— shared—he could have some. A fatalistic groan started low in his gut and worked its way up. This was the road to hell, and his good intentions weren’t worth a damn.
The fiery liquid he’d tipped down his throat wasn’t enough to intoxicate him, but later he could list it as a contributing factor.
Beth’s head tilted to one side. He watched with a strange sense of awe as she had some sort of epiphany and then nodded. Before he could speak she’d removed the chocolate from between her lips, swirled her cognac, inhaled deeply, and drunk the rest of it.
She pressed the empty glass into his hand and grinned as she ate the chocolate. “There’s a missed opportunity,” she said with mock sympathy. “You’ll have to be quicker than that.”
The heat of her lips had melted the chocolate, and a sense of inevitability descended over him as he tried not to cave in to temptation. “We should talk about your father. This is—”
“My choice.”
She kissed him with incredibly soft chocolate-flavored lips, blending the flavor with rich cognac as she licked into his mouth.
Rational thought took a hike, because she’d made her choice and he supported it one hundred percent.
…
Beth awoke on a quilt by the fire, loud static and garbled voices disturbing the best sleep she’d had all year. Bleary-eyed, she took in the disheveled state of her sitting room and smiled as her memory filled in the blanks. Jake wouldn’t be far away, but dealing with his security personnel was down to her for the moment.
She picked up the radio and pressed the talk button. “Hello?”
The answer she got was patchy but she got the gist of it. “Fired. Leaving now. English bastards.”
Grinning at the man’s affronted tone, she thanked him and scrambled to her feet, locating her nightie and wrap and putting them on. Jake’s entourage had arrived from London and she was in a room that screamed late-night rendezvous. Groaning at the sound of the doorbell rung twice in quick succession, she gathered everything she could carry and flung it into her bedroom. Jake was showering with the bathroom door wide open so she took a peek before pulling the door shut and smoothing her hands down over her nightgown. Maybe she should change?
Insistent buzzing ruled out that option. She hurried forward and opened the door.
“Hi,” she said with the brightest smile she could muster.
“Step away from the door!”
Huh? Startled into submission she took a step back.
“To your left, Bethany.”
“Use the door as cover.”
Confused by multiple orders spoken at once she leapt to the side, her back pressed against the wall as the two hard-nosed behemoths stepped into her home.
“Opening the door without checking was mistake number one,” the first man said.
“Wearing your nightdress, mistake number two.”
She put up her hand to make them stop, preferring to skip the lecture on security ettiquette since this situation was a one-off. In her bare feet she felt just about on a level with their navels, but she suppressed the vague shudder of unease that made her back twitch, and gestured toward the back of her house. “If you’d like to come through to the kitchen, Jake will meet us there in a minute or two.”
They ignored her, their impassive stares probing every detail of her home in a way that made her want to cover things up. She’d have to have a word to Jake about choosing staff with a modicum of compassion. The forbidding looks on their near-identical faces made them look like clones, and bad ones at that.
Where were their manners? She held her hand out to the first man. “If you’re going to stay here you should call me Beth.”
“Miss Carlisle,” he replied, shaking her hand as if he was reluctant to touch it. The other man followed suit, also calling her Miss Carlisle, and she had the uncomfortable realization that they were here solely for Jake.
Jake came up behind her, his fingers kneading the taut muscles of her nape in a soothing rhythm. It should’ve been
comforting but under the watchful eyes of his guards it made her feel awkward. Almost lewd, which was just plain ridicu
lous. She really was getting paranoid if she thought they’d bother judging her. She was nothing to them. Less than nothing.
Summoning another smile, she shrugged her uneasiness aside and tried once again to welcome them. What they thought of her wasn’t important, but as guests in her home she expected them to at least be courteous. “If you’ll just tell me your names?”
They spoke over each other once again. “Ken,” the first one said, and she could’ve sworn the second one said that too. Surely not?
“Ah, right.” It didn’t matter anyway. She didn’t see herself having much cause to engage them in conversation. “Follow me and I’ll organize you a room each.”
“No need,” the first Ken assured her.
“We’ll assess the available space and work out sleeping arrangements,” Ken Two added.
“We have quite a large party.”
Gritting her teeth was unavoidable because they’d slipped into that patronizing one-line-each speech pattern again. “Fine. But you might have a problem if everything’s pink and white in one of the rooms you choose.”
For a moment one of them looked set to smile but in the next instant they’d both shifted their attention to Jake, and she felt as if she’d been summarily dismissed.
By strangers in her own home?
The Kens loomed over her, their mass seeming like sevensquare feet of solid brawn. Jake was behind her, out of sight, but the feel of his body was imprinted on hers. Hard. Muscular. And tall. So much taller than she was.
The Ken Clones appeared to equate height with significance, and at five foot one, she didn’t even register on their scale.
Refusing to slink off like an unwelcome guest, she raised her chin and voiced the first thought that entered her head. “How long will we need to stay indoors?”
She didn’t know what to think when both of the Kens looked to Jake for some sort of go-ahead before answering. Jake’s hand gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze and whatever silent communication passed between him and his bodyguards at the same time, it seemed to work in her favor.
