She shot him a wary look. “This has been a long day…for both of us. If you’ll tell me where the nearest motel is, I’ll leave you alone with your family. We can talk in the morning.”
“No. You can’t leave. We haven’t had dinner, and I bought wine…and desserts.” Smooth, Kerner, real smooth. Vance maneuvered his way around to blocking the exit from the kitchen. “Besides, you haven’t told me everything that happened around here. And what about your proposition?” As his voice lowered, Katie’s brows rose.
“It’s a business proposition. Not”—she fluttered her hand—“whatever you’re thinking,” she said with starch in her voice, lifting her perky, delightful nose.
“And just what am I thinking?” He couldn’t stop his suggestive tone, staring at her lush, watermelon lips. They had tasted as juicy as they appeared.
“Something that would no doubt land on the cutting-room floor.” She squinted her brown eyes at him. His laughter filled the kitchen, and Katie’s lips twitched, trying to suppress a smile.
“Do you kiss your girlfriend like you kissed me?” she asked, surprising him again.
Vance reached for her handbag and heard the inhalation of her breath as his fingers brushed the back of her hand. “Don’t have a girlfriend.” Yet. Don’t go there, Kerner. Wayward thoughts of Katie’s sumptuous mouth attached to her equally luscious body had no business clogging his already cluttered brain.
“Uncle Vance, is dinner ready?” He pulled back. His nephews pushed past him with Danny tight on their heels, squeezing the life out of Lollipop with her pudgy hands.
* * *
Phew! Saved by the kids. Katie exhaled, locking her jelly knees. Almost swooped again by a charming, conniving, up-to-no-good pirate. She ducked her head and shoved her trembling hands inside the pouch to her sweatshirt. She would need all her wits to keep up with Vance Kerner, Hunk-o-Mania, who smelled earthy, topped with a tantalizing dollop of pure sin. Enough sin to make California girls fall for his Southern boy charm. Not this California girl. Nailing this location was imperative, and nail it she would as long as Pirate Man focused on some other booty…and not hers. Because when Katie set her mind to something, LA’s famous Stack—the four-level interchange full of rush-hour gridlock—couldn’t keep her from her task.
“Kay-tee, you sit by me,” Danny said, sitting in her red booster seat, patting the chair next to her. Vance had placed the hot food on the brass trivets on the table. He tousled the boys’ hair and shot her a risqué wink as he delivered the bread in a basket. Shizzle! What had she gotten herself into? This day had hurtled like a loose boulder gaining momentum into utter chaos. She’d been trampled, tripped, and hosed down—literally—with a garden hose. Her favorite pair of wedges was covered in North Carolina red clay. Now she was about to dine with Pirate Captain and his unruly crew. Arrrgh.
Through dinner, the kids filled Vance in on the shenanigans that took place while he’d been away. Starting with the dunking of Lollipop in the toilet just as Vance had warned—thankfully, she’d remembered to remove the dog food bowl from Danny’s sight—to “accidentally” falling down and getting covered in clay, which led to the cold dousing from the garden hose.
“Everyone was covered in mud. Even Pixie,” Donald informed his uncle.
“I see. That’s why Katie had to give Pixie a bath?” Vance asked as he helped Dover cut up his chicken.
“Pixie shaked”—Danny shook her tiny body in her booster seat like a dog—“and got Kay-tee all wet.” Danny gave her a mac-and-cheese smile that Katie wiped clean with a napkin.
“And then Katie made us march and take orders like soldiers,” Dover said around a mouthful of bread. “Or else,” he added with great emphasis.
“Or else what?” Vance asked.
“Or else she’d make us rake the whole backyard all the way to the Cornwaddle fence and pick up sticks and stones,” Donald said. “And we’d only get two five-minute breaks for water and stale bread.”
“Like a chain gang!” Dover’s eyes lit with the idea of working like state prisoners on the side of the road.
Vance stared at Katie in shock or wonder or both. Hard to tell behind his black eyes. “So, we’re into corporal punishment?”
“Certainly not.” Katie straightened her shoulders. “No pain would’ve been involved, and those little sneakers added the part about bread and water.” She pointed an accusing finger at Dover and Donald. “I merely suggested that if they didn’t help clean house, I’d find other more tiring chores for them to do.” Vance’s lips tipped in a sly smile. “Like raking, picking up sticks…that kind of thing.”
“We helped clean house ’cause Katie promised us a really awesome surprise,” Donald said, picking at his green beans.
“Sweee! Your belly’s gonna smile, Uncle Pance,” Danny squealed as she smashed beans into the mac and cheese with her hand. Vance smiled at her over Danny’s head, making Katie’s heart stutter.
“Eat up and drink your milk. After you’ve taken your dishes to the sink, you can show your uncle.” Donald and Dover shoveled the last bit of food into their full mouths. “Two more bites, sweet pea.” Katie held Danny’s spoon to her mouth with a small piece of chicken.
Vance stopped with his fork midair as he seemed to be amazed by his nephews’ behavior. “Are you some kind of Svengali?” he asked in awe.
“Hardly. My intent is not evil, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Evil, no. Crafty, definitely yes.” Katie smiled at that assessment. She liked being considered crafty. Nothing wrong with being clever and adept at changing your situation. It did come in handy. And she’d actually enjoyed herself today—the ruined shoes notwithstanding. She loved working with kids and putting her teaching degree to use. It felt good. Right.
But her dad had never thought so. He had insisted she ditch her dreams of teaching and focus on a “serious” career. Like working under him, where he could criticize and lecture every step of the way. Katie loved her dad, but, quite frankly, being his only daughter and the youngest child was exhausting. And sometimes degrading.
Don’t screw this up, Walter McKnight’s voice said in her head. I’m giving you one last chance. Don’t disappoint me. Katie had spent her entire life trying not to be a disappointment to her parents. But for some reason, they hadn’t seen it that way.
Chapter 4
“You made this?” Vance asked Katie, referring to the layered tent made from quilts and blankets. After the kids had gobbled up chocolate chip cookies and carried their dishes to the sink, they rushed upstairs, pulling on Vance’s hand to show him the surprise. And to his credit, he’d been genuinely amazed and pleased by their efforts.
“Well, I had help.” Katie beamed at Donald and Dover. Vance set Danny down from his arms, and she scampered onto the pillows piled high beneath the tent.
“Heee! See my pillow.” She smacked her pink pillow scattered with fairies before flopping on top.
Dover dug for his hidden flashlight inside his Spider-Man pillowcase. “We can read in the dark,” he announced, flicking his flashlight on and blinding Katie with its beam. Vance crawled toward the tent on his hands and knees.
“This is seriously cool. Where’d you get the line?” he asked, referring to the rope holding the tent up.
“From the toolbox in the laundry room, and I helped Katie tie it to the top bunk bed,” Donald said. The boys had helped her move the lower bunk so she could erect the tent.
“We have our games and books.” Donald showed Vance his stack of books and Danny’s LeapFrog game. “And look, we hung paper stars and planets with dental floss.”
Vance nodded in amazement. “You plan on sleeping here tonight? All three of you?”
“Yes-s-s, and Pop, too,” Danny said, dancing in circles on top of the covers.
“Oh no. Not a good idea. Lollipop needs to sleep downstairs in the laundry r
oom. You can play with her in the morning.”
Danny stopped dancing and stared at Vance; her bottom lip trembled, and tears pooled in her big blue eyes. “N-n-n-o-o-o! I want Pop! I seep with Pop!” she screamed as she threw herself down on the covers and kicked her feet.
“Uh-oh. Dana Sue, do you remember what we talked about?” Katie dropped to her knees in front of the tent. Danny stopped kicking and looked up with a tear-streaked face. “Only stuffed animals are allowed in the tent. Here, take your bunny.” Katie handed her the stuffed bunny with the patchy fur and missing eye. “No more crying, or we’ll have to go to boot camp.” Vance gave her an odd look, and Danny screwed up her face, seeming to measure Katie’s words. “Okay, brush your teeth so you guys can hunker down for the night.” Donald and Dover crawled out and hurried to the bathroom, but Danny didn’t budge.
“I want Pop. No Floppy,” she said, hurling the bunny at Katie’s face.
“Hey, you know better than that, young lady,” Vance said in a stern voice. Danny had worked herself into a fine baby fit and wasn’t listening. “Come here—”
“No. Let me.” Katie pulled Danny up by her arm. “Time for boot camp.” She picked her up by the waist and plopped her down on the carpeted floor away from the tent. Danny stopped crying and stared at Katie, her mouth hanging open. “You remember the rules?”
“I do jumpy jacks?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“Yep. Okay, here we go.” Katie started doing jumping jacks as she counted. “One, two, three…come on, Danny, count with me.”
“What the hell?” Vance mumbled as he stood and watched Danny jumping awkwardly, trying to coordinate her arms and legs. Katie slowed to match Danny’s pace.
“Danny’s in boot camp,” Dover announced as he bounded back into the room from brushing his teeth. “Donald had to do ten push-ups, and I had to do fifteen sit-ups.”
“Yeah, we were in boot camp after we ruined Katie’s favorite shoes and tracked mud in the house.” Donald ambled back into the bedroom with dark, damp hair sticking up from pushing his wet fingers through it.
“…nine and ten. Okay, good girl. Now, let’s get dressed for bed.” Katie bent down to pick up a puffing Danny when Vance intervened.
“Uh, I’ll do that.” He hauled Danny into his arms. “I’m exhausted just thinking about your day. Why don’t you head downstairs and relax…put your feet up. I’ll join you in a minute.” Vance gave her a wide berth as he left the room to dress Danny for bed, as if she’d been dancing in nothing but her undies and lip-synching to Maroon 5. Katie shrugged; her techniques might be unconventional, but they worked. She tucked the boys in under the tent and said good night.
* * *
It was past eight thirty when Vance finally got the kids settled down. They had Skyped Gloria so she could hear about their day and read them a story. Vance reluctantly descended the stairs. He dreaded meeting with Katie and listening to her proposal, because he’d have to act as if he was interested before turning her down. All without scaring her out of town until he’d gotten word from Mike. Even more, he dreaded telling her about the nosy, gossiping, marriage-minded, movie-crazed, good-hearted people of Harmony, who dreamed of stardom and Katie becoming Mrs. Vance Kerner. Not an ounce of reality to either scenario. But the damage had been done. He’d already checked Facebook on his phone and, sure as the sky was Carolina blue, there’d been posts about his new girlfriend and speculation on the wedding date. Along with false sightings of George Clooney and Chris Hemsworth strolling Main Street. Brogan, Lucy, and Bertie had tweeted six times already, stating they couldn’t wait to finally meet the gal who’d captured his elusive, bad boy heart. Wanda Pattershaw, another local, outrageous friend, kept texting red hearts and stupid pictures of wedding cakes. His Twitter account was exploding with retweets and speculations from his followers. A marriage pool had started, and some of his vocal female followers bemoaned his almost-married state. If he could kick his own ass, he would for being so freakin’ stupid.
Vance glanced at his phone again, reading Mike’s most recent text. Got people working on this. May need Katie’s influence w dad. Don’t lose her! In other words: lie. Dammit. He didn’t need to babysit another person, and he certainly didn’t need a fiancée. A nice long, sensual lay in his bed for a solid week would be the ticket, but again, he had gotten the distinct feeling Katie wasn’t offering. Too bad. Because he liked her unique smell of orange blossoms and the way her eyes danced with laughter when she dealt with the kids, meting out discipline.
At the bottom of the stairs, Vance stopped. The sound of voices carried from the living room on his right.
“…I play tuba, and Opal plays piccolo. The smallest and the largest band instruments. Isn’t that a hoot?”
“And we’re both learning to twirl batons. I’ve only poked myself in the eye three times.”
Too late. Word had traveled fast. The middle-aged Ardbuckle twins, Emma and Opal, stood in the center of the living room’s green braided rug, wearing matching blue-and-gold band uniforms, talking to a stunned Katie.
“Nothing like good band music to liven up a movie, don’t you think?” Emma or Opal said. Vance could never tell the identical twins apart, and neither could the rest of Harmony. When he cleared his throat, three sets of eyes swiveled his way.
“Hey there, you handsome devil. Isn’t it exciting? Hollywood wanting to make a movie here in Harmony?”
“We’ve always thought Vance looked like a rock star, but, you know, he’d make a really good villain. Don’t you think, Opal?” Emma said, nudging Opal with her elbow.
Opal nodded. “Put a gold hoop in his ear, and he could star in the next Pirates of the Caribbean.”
“Thanks, but I’ll stick to writing. How can I help you ladies?” Vance would rather have angry fans hurl flaming books at his head. If the Ardbuckle twins had gotten word, then the remainder of Harmony was not far behind.
“Katie said she’d be happy to let us audition—”
“Um, not exactly.” An uncomfortable Katie tugged on the bottom of her sweatshirt. The Ardbuckle twins gave her an expectant look. “The thing is, this miniseries has a real dark side about teenagers falling in love and then turning into zombies and going on a killing spree.” Alarm washed over Opal and Emma as they clutched hands, and Vance couldn’t quite blame them. Teenagers turning into zombies and going on killing sprees? Perfect. Just how he pictured his family home: covered with blood and guts and dead teenage bodies. Uh, hell no.
“You ladies are lovely, but I don’t think this is the right show for you.” Katie tried to put a positive spin on killing the twins’ dreams of fame.
“Emma, Opal, would you like a slice of fresh coconut cream pie?” Vance moved deeper into the room, gesturing for his guests to take a seat. Not that he wanted them to stick around, but he couldn’t squelch the years of ingrained Southern hospitality by not offering.
“No thank you, Vancy-Pancy—”
The twins giggled, glancing at Katie. “We used to call him that when we babysat. He’d run and hide. Didn’t you, Vance?” Emma said.
He’d like to run and hide right now, but Vance pasted on a grim smile and nodded. And Katie coughed—or more like laughed—behind her hand.
“We were hoping to audition. What a shame,” Opal said in a disappointed voice.
“We better get going.” The twins hooked arms, wearing identical defeated expressions.
Katie appeared worried and said, “I’d still be happy to hear you play.” Their heads popped up. “I’ve an idea…you can entertain the crew when they get here. You know, during lunch breaks and—”
“That would be marvelous,” both twins squealed. “We’ll be back to perform. Is tomorrow good?”
“Check with me first,” Vance said as he efficiently ushered the excited twins toward the front door. “We need to make sure Eric’s kids won’t interfere…you know, wit
h the performance.” Lame, but his brain was fried, and he was running out of material.
Twin heads bobbed. “Excellent. It was nice to meet you, Katie,” they called over their shoulders as Vance closed the door in their faces.
“Seriously?” His tone was incredulous, but before he could grill Katie, he heard a loud knock. Thinking the Ardbuckle twins had forgotten something, he pulled the door open.
“Hey, dude.” There, smelling of sweat and grass, stood Clancy Perry, the stupidest tool in town. “I hear Hollywood is gonna make a movie here.”
“No, you’ve heard wrong,” Vance said, his teeth clenched.
Clancy pushed his way into the foyer and removed his battered straw cowboy hat. “That ain’t what I heard. It’s all over town. A movie right here in Harmony.”
“It’s not really a movie. It’s a miniseries.” Katie appeared by his side, and Vance wished she hadn’t. Harmony wouldn’t distinguish the difference between a movie and a miniseries, because either one presented endless opportunities for fame and star status.
“Hey, there. You ain’t from around here, are ya? I’m Clancy Perry.” Clancy stuck his hand out, and Vance immediately hated the glint in his eyes.
“Katie McKnight.” She shook Clancy’s hand.
“You from Hollywood?”
“Santa Monica, technically—”
“Well, Katie McKnight…I’m your man.” Clancy ambled closer to Katie, blocking Vance with his back. “And I’d like to audition for any and all love scenes. Especially if I get to make love to Carrie Underwood or Brooklyn Decker.”
“Oh, well—” Her unease was visible as she glanced at Vance.
“You don’t have to pay me or nothing. I’d do it for free. As long as the actress is smokin’ hot.” Clancy inched closer to Katie.
“Welcome to Harmony,” Vance said to Katie’s surprised or alarmed face—either would have been fitting. He clapped Clancy on the shoulder over his worn Skoal T-shirt. “Look, go tell everyone not to stop by, because there’s not going to be any movie. Got it?”
Sweet Southern Bad Boy Page 4
