For weeks now he had concentrated on the memory of her turning away from him, again and again. He had consistently refused to think about the fact that again and again she had reached out to him. Something had drawn her to him from the beginning.
But now that she was in his home, he had no choice but to see beyond her carefully constructed facade. He was forced to admit that she wasn’t the spoiled princess he had always felt safe in believing she was. She worked hard, wanted no one’s pity, and seemed to live for helping other people. She wanted nothing from him in return—at least nothing emotional. All she wanted was a flight from reality through uncommitted sex. The minute any emotion swelled around them, that was when she pushed him away. As if she couldn’t afford intimacy. As if the night he had come home and found her asleep at the kitchen table, she had revealed too much, had felt too much.
Which brought him to his current dilemma.
Vivienne had jumped through hoops to avoid him since that night. The minute he showed up, she ducked away with some task or another that she had to do for the girls. When he pulled into the drive, she hopped in her car and was gone.
He had given her time to adjust. But his patience had run dry.
Max left the room and went to find Vivienne. He wanted to see her, wanted to feel that foolish schoolboy smile she always brought out of him.
He found her in the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway as she talked and laughed with Lila, while Nicki stood to the side, eating a Fruit Roll-Up, interested but pretending to be cool. None of them saw him.
The change in Nicki was amazing. With the black makeup gone, she was truly beautiful. And now she wore colorful shirts with her jeans. Lila seemed happier as well. She had even forgotten to send him her usual week’s end memo because she’d been invited to another girl’s birthday party. Granted, the following day Lila had apologized with an extra long memo, in which she had praised Vivi’s “dedicated plan” for befriending the junior high set. Lila felt certain that in May, around the time of her birthday, hint hint, she would probably be in a position to have her own party because she felt certain she’d have several friends by then. She had added she would get back to him with details in the new year.
Then there was Vivienne herself. A sizzle of pure pleasure washed over him at the sight. She wore her uniform of khakis and white shirt, but as if she couldn’t help herself, she had sewn a lavish pink-sequined V on the collar.
“So tomorrow’s the last day of the estate sale,” Lila said from her place at the kitchen counter stool. “How much money have you made so far?”
Vivienne paused as she straightened the clutter on the countertop, then smiled and walked over to the kitchen desk, straightened a bit more, before pulling out an old box, the top popping open when she hugged it tight, excitement brightening her features.
“I’ve sold nearly five thousand dollars worth of stuff!” she enthused. “And I get ten percent.”
Nicki didn’t say anything but looked grudgingly impressed.
“That’s five hundred dollars!” Lila gasped.
“I know,” Vivienne said. “Can you believe it? We’ll have to go out and celebrate. Maybe tomorrow tonight!”
Nicki wrinkled her nose and looked back and forth between Lila and Vivienne. “I can’t.”
“Why?” Lila asked.
Nicki hesitated, then burst out, “I have a date!”
“A date?” Vivienne and Lila squealed.
“A date?” Max demanded, coming into the room.
All eyes went wide, and Max noticed that Vivienne glanced nervously at the box in her arms.
“What are you doing home so early?” she asked, while his sisters stood like deer caught in headlights. “You’re supposed to be at work.”
Max ignored her and focused on Nicki. “What is this about a date?” he demanded. “You know you aren’t allowed to go out with boys.”
Nicki found her tongue and banged the roll-up down in her fist. “I’m in high school now.”
“True, but you’re barely fourteen,” he countered.
“You are so unfair!”
“And you are too young to date.”
Nicki stamped her foot, then froze, and Max was certain she was rethinking her approach. His jaw went tight.
“It’s not a date date,” she offered, the belligerence magically gone, her tone suddenly cajoling. “It’s just a bunch of kids getting together.”
“Will boys be there?”
She bit her lower lip and looked at him through lowered lashes. “Would you believe me if I said no?”
Max groaned inwardly at the thought that Nicki had gone from in-your-face belligerence to trying her hand at pretty-girl manipulation, and he knew exactly where Nicki had learned the tactic. He shot an accusatory glare at Vivienne, who popped back up as if she hadn’t been trying to stash the box back underneath the desk.
What the hell was in that box?
“Excuse me, Nicki,” Lila interrupted. “But you’ve already mentioned the word date, and if you add no boys, Max might mentally go places you really don’t want him to go.”
Nicki was confused, but Max and Vivienne weren’t. Max felt a vein start pounding in his head, a throb that only got worse when Vivienne covered a laugh with a cough.
“How do you know about these things?” he asked incredulously of the eleven-year-old.
“It is the new millennium, Maxwell. And I do watch TV. Homosexuality is everywhere.”
“Homosexual!” Nicki burst out. “I am not gay. I have a date with Brandon Bonner!”
Max turned a hard glare on his sister. “So it is a date. A date you are not going on. You are too young. And he’s a senior. Case closed. We’ll revisit the subject in another five years.”
“Five years!”
Thankfully, Pat chose that moment to walk in. Dates and homosexuality. Didn’t raising kids ever get easier?
When Pat came over to give Vivienne a hug, Vivienne nearly dropped the box in surprise.
“What’s going on?” Pat asked.
Lila cringed. “We’ve just experienced our first dating dilemma.”
“Meaning?”
“That Max said Nicki is too young to date.”
“Ah,” Pat said with a knowing nod of her head. “I remember those days.”
Max grumbled.
Pat laughed. “Just think, Max. Only two more sisters left to deal with.”
“And I promise not to give you dating fits,” Lila swore.
“Don’t make any promises you can’t keep,” Pat interjected. “Come on, girls, let’s go.” But then something inside Vivienne’s box caught her attention. “Hey, what’s this?”
Vivienne slapped her hand on top and nearly sent the whole thing tumbling. “Nothing! Really, nothing.”
But Pat helped her regain the box’s balance, and she set it on the counter. Vivienne practically tackled the box. But it was too late.
“Pictures?” Pat was confused. “Of us?”
Vivienne cringed, and Max’s heart jarred in his chest when he realized what it must be.
Nicki and Lila opened the box the rest of the way and gaped at the photos.
Max stood still as stone.
“Max,” Pat asked, puzzled, “what are these?”
Anger leaped through him like a flame. Anger and something else. Pain and betrayal. At Vivienne and at his father. He knew that’s what the box was. Those things Max had told Vivienne to burn.
“Why don’t I take it for now,” Vivienne suggested, “and Max can explain?”
“Explain what?” Pat asked, her fingers clutching the edges of the cardboard.
Max’s gaze went from Pat, to Vivienne, to the girls. Then he cursed. He felt his thoughts harden when he realized he had little choice, so he explained about the house, about their father who had been only miles from them all these years, living with a woman, before he had died. How they had found the photos in the house.
“You mean he kept pictures of us but never came to
see us?” Nicki breathed.
“Yes,” Max responded, his tone clipped.
“How could he do such a thing,” Pat spat. “The bastard.”
“Pat, I know how you feel,” Max said.
He hesitated, looking at Vivienne. She was willing him to lead with caring instead of an iron fist. He saw it, understood it.
His jaw muscles leaped, fury surrounding him. But after one more look at Vivienne, then at his sisters, he knew what he had to do. “At least it shows that he cared.”
“Cared, my ass,” Pat shot back.
Nicki looked shocked. Lila didn’t even notice. She crawled up onto a high stool and started rummaging around in the box.
“Do you think he remembered me, too?” Lila asked hopefully.
Max’s heart all but stopped. Their father had left before Lila was born. And his concern solidified when he saw Vivienne’s face blanch.
“Of course he remembered you, sweetie,” Vivienne said. “Just keep looking.”
Without another word, Vivienne silently slipped out of the room as Lila continued to dig, her little face taking on a haunted expression the deeper she went without a single glimpse of herself.
Nicki and Pat started looking, too, and each found photos of themselves, old photos of days long passed.
Lila finally straightened. “There’s none of me,” she said, her blue eyes troubled.
Pat and Nicki instantly realized what was happening. They stood very still, not knowing what to do.
Max felt powerless. He also felt a slow tick of anger renew its beat. What a fucking mess this was. Lead with caring, and look where it had gotten them. He should have slammed the box shut and thrown it away. He should have said no to Vivienne’s damn plan in the first place.
Just when he started to reach for the photographs, Vivienne burst back into the kitchen, another box in her hands. “Here’s the other one. It’s amazing all the pictures your father kept of you guys. There are tons of them.”
Lila held her breath, and Max breathed a sigh of relief that there was more. But when Vivienne whipped open the box, he recognized a stack of photos from the box he stored in her closet. Photos of all the kids, including Lila.
But the eleven-year-old was smart, too smart, and Max felt his chest squeeze hard at the realization that his sister would see through the ploy.
Feeling furious and helpless, he watched Lila take each photo in her hands one by one. She looked at each closely, and then her face crumpled.
Damn it.
And when she made a tiny heartbreaking cry, Max had to force himself not to put his fist into the wall.
Tension sliced through the kitchen as she looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Max, he loved me, too.”
Silence crashed through his mind as he couldn’t seem to move. Then Lila was in his arms, holding on tight. “He loved me, too,” she whispered again, her face buried in his side.
Fiercely fighting back foolish tears of his own, he stroked her hair, and when he glanced up, he could see the emotion in Pat’s and Nicki’s eyes. Then suddenly all four of them were holding tight. Max could hardly fathom this feeling of love that he rarely acknowledged for his sisters.
He glanced over their heads and found Vivienne standing there, looking relieved and joyous. But strangely sad as well. In that moment he finally understood the shift that had happened inside him.
Vivienne might look at the world from a completely different perspective, but underneath all the outlandish-ness, she was caring and honest and kind in ways he’d never seen before.
He wanted this woman, yes. And he had come to admit that she made him happy. But he needed her as well. That was what he had been running from. The need.
In that second, standing in this kitchen of this grand house that left him feeling little more than empty, he knew that he wanted her in his life permanently. And he realized he would do whatever it took to make her his own.
The understanding brought a sizzle of shock but of anticipation as well for the years he would have with this woman. And he would have her, in his bed and by his side. As his bride.
His mind reeled with all he felt. But the minute she noticed him studying her, she only smiled through the poignant sadness he saw in her eyes. Then she disappeared out of the kitchen before he could pull her close and thank her for this gift.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nicki was both excited and terrified as she walked into the crowded Saturday night party with Brandon’s arm slung across her shoulders. Music blared from speakers, guys and girls slouched together. There wasn’t a parent in sight and most everyone there was smoking cigarettes. One guy she kind of recognized served beer from a keg.
The minute they walked in, the others noticed.
“Boomer!”
“My man!”
“Looking good, Nicki.”
A chorus of hellos and ritual handshakes were exchanged between guys who gave her power-pink-short-skirt-clad body appreciative once-overs.
It felt totally great and Nicki told herself not to worry about the beer Brandon accepted. And when he handed one to her, she stared at it for long seconds before she smiled weakly and took it. After the way he had looked at her when she snuck out of Pat’s apartment and met him in the parking lot, it would be worth running the risk of getting caught.
Taking a sip, holding back a grimace, she ducked her head and smiled at Brandon Bonner in his jeans, baby-soft flannel shirt, and black boots. She felt giddy and amazed that she was going with him, and that his friends knew her now. She was part of the gang.
At least that’s how she felt until Brandon lifted two beers into the air like Rocky and announced that it was time to play. The guys cheered, the girls laughed.
“Play what?” she asked, hardly recognizing the strange little giggle that bubbled out of her after she finished her beer.
“Strip poker,” the guys bellowed.
The other girls who were there weren’t surprised. But Nicki felt a jab of major anxiety through her beer-induced sense of calm.
Strip poker?
“Oh, I can’t play,” Nicki said nervously.
Brandon’s face clouded. “Don’t be like that, Nick,” he crooned, pulling her close and kissing her hairline. “It’s fun.”
Yeah, maybe for everyone else, but she doubted everyone else had stuffed big fake boobs in their bras.
Yikes!
Suddenly Brandon’s “Wow, you are going to be awesome tonight” took on a whole new meaning. Little did he know how un-awesome things would get if she lost her clothes.
But then she looked up and saw Brandon, so great, so popular, so exactly who she wanted for her boyfriend, and she rationalized that by growing up in a house full of boys, she knew how to play poker, and she wasn’t half bad. So when hands were dealt, Nicki found herself sitting next to Brandon at the table.
For the first few rounds, she didn’t lose a stitch of clothing. By the fifth hand, she started to relax, sighing over how cool Brandon looked when he shuffled the deck of cards. Then she actually started having fun after another beer and one of the guys got down to tube socks and boxer shorts.
That’s when the girls started to lose.
In the next thirty minutes, hand after hand, Nicki lost a scarf, then a belt, a bracelet—if Vivi only knew what was happening to her few remaining frilly clothes—then her outer shirt. Thank God she had on a pink tank top underneath.
Nicki’s mind raced as fast as her heart pounded, while she tried to come up with a way out of this situation without looking like an idiot.
Just when she decided being thought an idiot would be way better than being humiliated if anyone got a look at what was inside her bra, she was rescued from both because Brandon grabbed her hand and pulled her away. “Later, guys,” he called out.
Relief! She was saved. She nearly threw her arms around Brandon in gratitude.
But before she knew what was happening, they were out the front door, practically racing to the ca
rs parked along the neighborhood street. In a matter of seconds, he had her in the back of his mom’s Suburban, which had the seats folded down.
No question she had been psyched about the prospect of her first true kiss. However, rolling around in the back of a Suburban wasn’t what she had had in mind.
But this was Brandon, she reminded herself. He liked her, he really did, so surely all she had to do was say, “Brandon, please stop. I’m not ready.” And she did.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Then down they went onto the scratchy car-grade carpeting in the back of the SUV, and she got the French kiss she had been longing for.
Only it wasn’t quite what she had expected.
His hands moved like lightning, his tongue practically choking her, and if she could have gotten a word out she would have said, Excuse me. Gross!
But the really wet and disgusting French kiss was the least of her worries. Brandon’s hands were everywhere, and Nicki had to twist here and there to keep them away from her chest—and Victoria’s biggest Secret.
Good God, it was like an athletic event. This was not how she had envisioned her first real date with Brandon. It had never occurred to her that she’d have to fend him off, and belatedly she remembered Vivi’s warning that wearing breast enhancers could only cause trouble. Now she knew why.
But enlightenment came too late, and now that Nicki had leaped into the deep end of the pool—and gotten results—she was determined to make it work. She would make Brandon keep his hands to himself, and twist her way out of the car.
“Brandon,” she managed to say, pushing at his chest.
But the push and twist only gave him better access. With an expertise that could only mean he had spent many years getting his hand inside bras, he slipped his inside hers.
Nicki gasped. Brandon sighed with great passion, squeezed once, then paused before giving a somewhat hesitant pinch, making him go completely still. After one painfully long second, Brandon let out a strange strangled noise, then jerked his hand free. When he did, one really expensive rubbery fake breast came out as well, flopping onto the folded seat back, then shuddered like it had a life of its own.
The Wedding Diaries Page 23
