Quick Dirty Luck: A Love Between the Pages Novel

by Heather Guimond

  “We’re great!” Stacy exclaimed.

  “Things have never been better,” Gage chimed in. I wanted to punch them both in their necks.

  “I’m glad to hear it. The wedding isn’t that far off now, is it? Just three or four months, right?”

  Gage and Stacy exchanged a look before turning back to me.

  “We might have to push the wedding back a few months,” Gage said.

  “Maybe even a year, if we’re being realistic,” Stacy added.

  “What’s going on, you guys?” I asked, putting my drink down on the coffee table. Stacy rushed to put a coaster under it. I gave her a quizzical look. She was never usually so worried about such little details. She and Gage looked at each other again, this time with big beaming smiles.

  “We’re pregnant!” they announced at the same time.

  I was struck stupid for a second. I would have suspected they’d spend the first year of their marriage traveling the world like they’d been talking about. In fact, they’d both arranged with their publisher neither of them would write anything for several months after the wedding. Finally, I remembered my manners.

  “That’s fantastic!” I replied. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is,” Stacy said laughing. “I was shocked when I found out, but I’m over the moon now. I can’t wait to be a mom. I never even knew I wanted to be one.”

  “I’ve been waiting for this day for almost my whole life. I can’t wait to have a little girl to spoil.” Gage said, his proud smile beaming on his face.

  “It could be a little boy, you know,” I pointed out helpfully.

  “God save us if he’s anything like his father,” Stacy said, poking Gage in the ribs. He just laughed and nodded.

  “Well, congratulations you two. I call dibs on the Godmother title.”

  “We were going to ask you, anyway. So, you’ll do it?”

  “Without question,” I replied, kind of looking forward to playing pretend parent. It was the perfect gig. I could have all the perks of being a stand-in mom with none of the hassle and hard work.

  “Just make sure the Godfather is a hot hunk of man candy, and it’ll be the perfect arrangement.”

  Gage and Stacy shared another look, this one wary and hesitant. Stacy even grimaced a little.

  “Well, it is a hot hunk of man candy,” she replied slowly.

  “Uh oh. What are you not telling me?”

  “Well, you see,” she began before Gage bluntly cut her off.

  “We’ve already asked Kent when he was here. He agreed.”

  I should have guessed.

  Eighteen

  Kent

  On the appointed Thursday, I woke early, eager not only to see Alexis but to put step two of my plan into action. I didn’t have any illusions—she wasn’t going to trip all over herself rushing to get in my arms. If anything, she was going to have her ass-kicking shoes on again. I put down the razor I’d been using to shave my face as I took a blissful moment to indulge in the memory of her shoes. God, I hope she wears the red ones again.

  Getting ahold of myself finally, I finished up with a brisk shower and a vigorous rub down. I was ready to do battle. I selected one of my best suits, a dark, navy blue, pinstriped Hugo Boss with a pale blue dress shirt and silver tie. It was my lucky suit because it was the one I was wearing when I met Alexis. I felt it was only right to start the next phase of our relationship with a nod to the past. Or some shit like that.

  My hair was still wet when I stepped into my office. Dustin, who I ran into when I stepped off the elevator, followed me in.

  “So, she’s coming today?” he asked, his eyes already alight with the mischief about to go down. When I nodded, he continued, “Man, I wish I was playing a part in your plans this time. This is going to be fun.

  I clapped my hands together before rubbing them back and forth against each other. I was looking forward to every second of it. Not just to rile her up, though that would be fun in and of itself, I really wanted to see her in the flesh. I couldn’t believe I had to wait another four hours before she arrived.

  “I appreciate you, Jasper, and Tallulah stepping up to make sure this place still runs efficiently. I know I’ll be throwing a lot of stuff your way while I do this.”

  “It’s okay. Your little sister even put Dad on standby, in case anything we can’t handle comes up.”

  “You guys told Dad all about this?” I said, my eyebrows shooting up on my forehead. I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. My dad liked to bust my balls even more than my siblings. He wasn’t going to be able to stay out of it.

  “We told Dad and Mom. You really shouldn’t skip the family Sunday breakfast, you know. Mom wants in on the action too.”

  My mom liked to bust my balls even more than my dad, brothers, and sisters combined. Oh well, it would be worth it. I knew they’d do everything they could to further my goal, they’d just give me a ration of shit about it while they did—probably for years to come. If it meant getting Alexis back, it’d be worth it.

  “Okay, we’ll figure out a part for Mom to play as we go along. We’re playing for keeps here.”

  “Sure are,” he said, standing to give me a fist bump. “She won’t be able to withstand the full force and might of the Kingsley Family.”

  I bumped his hand, then set about tackling the mountain of stuff I needed to accomplish so I could spend the entire afternoon with her.

  Just as I was finishing up some research on the California Citrus Growers Association—yes, it was a real thing, who knew—so I could speak intelligently about them if the situation called for it, Faith popped her head through the doorway.

  “Ms. Dare is here to see you, Kent. Are you ready for her?”

  “Is anyone ever truly ready for Reina Dare?” I wondered out loud.

  “By the look of her, no way in hell. Hope you got armor on under that suit because she does not look happy.”

  I grinned widely and stood up, smoothing my tie and buttoning my coat. My heart was racing just at the thought of seeing her again but waiting to see those blue eyes narrowed in disdain as her lip curled in that way it did when she got pissed off really had my blood pumping. You are one sick bastard, Kingsley.

  “Show her in, Faith,” I said as I rounded my desk to lean against the front of it. I wondered if she’d remember that first night together, sprawled across the top of it while I—

  “You might want to prepare yourself,” Faith said as I was about to end our call. “She’s not alone.”

  Not alone? Did she bring that Cifelli woman with her? Before I could say a word, Alexis walked in with some Fabio-wannabe trailing after her. He was tall, swarthy, and exceptionally muscular. He made sure everyone knew it by leaving open the top four buttons on his two-size too small dress shirt. What a douche.

  “Okay, you got me here, Kent. Take us to the convention area and show me my choices so we can quit wasting time and get back to our real work.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” I asked, trying to seem nonplussed though I was totally plussed, whatever the hell that meant.

  “Oh, right. Sorry, this is my, uh, associate, Enzo Novoa. He’s here to help me with selecting the spaces. He has an exceptional eye for… this sort of thing,” she said, only a little suggestively.

  I gritted my teeth and extended my hand. I was going to give this fucker the handshake of his life. His teeth gleamed so brightly when he smiled, I almost reached into my pocket for my sunglasses. This dude needed to go easy on the whitener.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kingsley,” he said in his stupid tenor voice. It was way too smooth for my liking, and he had an accent women probably wet themselves over. I wondered if he was here to make the moves on my Alexis. I gave him a vice grip for a handshake, but the bastard just smiled like he crushed rocks in his palms for fun.

  With a tight smile back, I turned to Alexis. She was dressed in a skin-tight, heather grey business suit with a crisp white s
hirt beneath. The jacket was flattering rather than being an average shapeless thing. It was perfectly tailored to her body, and the ends were long strips of material that wrapped around her waist and tied in the back. I’d never seen anything like it, and fuck me if it didn’t make her look that much more edible. But as great as the suit was, on her feet were the most murderous shoes I’d ever seen. Higher than her normal stilettos, this pair was black patent leather with pointier toes than the Wicked Witch of the East. They could do serious damage just looking at them. I nearly fainted from the redirection of blood flow from my brain.

  “I appreciate your desire to get down to business. I’m busy too, as you know, but again, I have my own vested interest in making sure this event is the best in your industry. Now, if you two will come with me,” I said, straightening from the desk and brushing past her and the asshole she brought with her. I heard her dissatisfied harrumph as I rudely passed them rather than standing back to let her exit first.

  When we arrived at the convention center, I began by showing them our smallest room. It had a removable wall, but I wasn’t going to point that out right away.

  “I was thinking we’d move the dining area into this room. It won’t accommodate every attendee and author, but the buffet can handle the overflow. We’ll just give out free meal vouchers.”

  “No, that won’t do. How will the people who get buffet tickets feel when they realize the rest of the attendees are getting a five-star luncheon? Your buffet is good, but it’s not that good. I want everyone to be treated to Stefan’s dishes.”

  “You’re right, querida,” Enzo piped up in that dumb Spanish accent of his. “You don’t want anyone to feel slighted. You know the people who appreciate the beauty of your words have sensitive souls,” he said, placing one of his large man-paws on her shoulder and squeezing. I wanted to squeeze his neck until his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

  “Okay, then, let’s look at the next space,” she said curtly though she put her hand atop his and gave it a tender grip of her own.

  Taking a deep breath and stuffing the image of poking Enzo’s eyes out, I led them to another room that was in the middle of Tallulah’s redesign. It was more like a workshop for her where her myriad samples and swatches and other design tools were stored and tested. It’d never been available to the public since I’d taken over, and it never would be. It was a fucking disaster.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Alexis turned to me with that burning stare. “Not only is it also too small, you’d have to get your sister to do a complete overhaul.”

  “You already know the whole place is being redone. It’ll be finished by the conference date.”

  “Still not good enough,” she said, turning her nose in the air and sniffing imperiously.

  “No, nowhere near good enough,” Enzo said, his Roman nose wrinkled in distaste. “Mr. Kingsley, I don’t think you need to be reminded it was your idea to make this a much bigger event than Alexis and Andrea had originally planned. You need to deliver with your top accommodations.”

  No, I needed to be reminded homicide leads to incarceration. If I went to jail for beating the shit out of Waldo here, I’d never get Alexis back. Doing my best to look completely unaffected, I ignored his comment altogether.

  “Okay, there’s one more room to show you. It’s much, much bigger than any of our other rooms, but it’ll accommodate a dance floor as well as space for dining. I’m not sure you’ll approve though.”

  I steered them away, taking the escalator one floor underground and opened up the double doors to… a bare cement floor and unfinished walls. The size of the room was enormous, but before this morning, there was maintenance equipment filling half the space. There were even grease stains on the floor. I’d had Barry, our operations manager, temporarily move everything to the garage, earning himself a tidy wage increase in the process.

  “Is this your idea of a joke, Kent? Because I’m not laughing. This is a definite no.”

  “Alexis, relax. It’s just unfinished. You're supposed to be evaluating the room size. Use your imagination and picture it in the style of my suite,” I said with a meaningful look at Enzo. I wanted him to know she’d been in my private rooms. “This would be a kick-ass spot for your readers to dine. Being apart from all the other areas and conventioneers—the Orange Growers did sign on, by the way, they’re coming at two to pick their space, so you’d better hurry up—being apart will give them a sense of exclusivity. They’ll all feel like VIPs.”

  She whirled to face me, her hair flying and her eyes aflame. There was my girl.

  “No. I said no. Give us your four largest rooms, period. We signed a deal with you first, so we get priority over your farmers. Make sure they’re all finished and pretty and perfect. If you don’t, I’ll sue your hotel for breach of contract.”

  “You don’t need to resort to threats. I’ll change your booking, per your request. There’s a nominal fee associated with the larger rooms—”

  “Tough shit, Kingsley. You made this deal, now make it happen.”

  “Yes, Mr. Kingsley. I’m afraid you’re trying to take advantage of my girl here, and I won’t stand for it,” the meathead said, trying to make himself sound dark and dangerous.

  Under any other circumstance, I might have admitted he did sound a little dangerous, and I should probably retreat, but this was about Alexis. The guy might take me out with one swing of his stupid, brawny arm, but fuck if I wouldn’t kick him in the nuts as I went down.

  “Your increased readership changes the terms of the deal. If you care to renegotiate, we can make our way to Stan’s to discuss it over a few drinks. It’s not too early for a dirty martini, is it? That is, if you wouldn’t mind excusing us, Waldo,” I asked, deliberately screwing up his name.

  I was stunned when Alexis literally gagged right in front of me. I might have more work cut out for me than I originally thought if the idea of drinks with me was so revolting to her.

  “Excuse me,” she said, politely trying to wipe her mouth. “As you know, I’ve not been well. I seem to be relapsing, probably because you insisted I make this unnecessary trip. I need to go lie down and let this pass. Send me your cost proposal for the changes. I’ll review them and get back to you with my response.”

  Before I could say another word, her heels were clicking fast on the tile floor as she grabbed Enzo’s hand and practically dragged him to the escalator that had brought us down. It was only natural I wanted to run after her, to make sure she was okay, Enzo or no Enzo. I wondered if I’d done the right thing demanding she visit in person when she’d told me she’d been ill. I wanted to rile her up, yes, but I didn’t want her thinking I was the biggest prick she ever met for real. Nevertheless, I erred on the side of caution and let her find her way out with that steroid-injected meathead trailing behind though I did consider running up behind and giving him a well-placed kidney punch.

  Nineteen

  Alexis

  Enzo couldn’t get me back to Stacy and Gage’s house fast enough. He could tell by my pale, sweaty face I was seconds away from tossing my cookies in the back of his Honda Accord.

  I thanked him weakly before lurching out of the vehicle as soon as he stopped. I bolted for the front door, bursting in without knocking and running past a shocked Stacy. I skidded into the guest bathroom and proceeded to bring up my breakfast. My stomach spasmed again and again as I heaved until I had nothing left, then heaved some more. Finally, I lifted my head from the bowl and flushed the toilet. Stacy was standing in the doorway, holding a warm, wet cloth for my forehead.

  “How long have you been sick, Alexis?” she asked quietly.

  I wiped my face and mouth with the cloth, then pulled out the mouthwash from under the sink. I started to swish it around in my mouth, but my gag reflex kicked in again, so I spat it right out.

  “It’s going on two weeks now. I just can’t seem to shake it. It’s all Kent’s fault.”

  “Is that so?” she asked, smirking
at me.

  “I think he’s the perfect person to blame too, don’t you?”

  “In this case, I think you’re both to blame,” she said with a knowing look on her face.

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked, trying hard not to be offended. I didn’t do anything wrong. He was the asshole.

  “Alexis, when was shark week?” she asked.

  “Shark week?” I asked, confused before the light bulb turned on over my head. “Oh, that was just…just, ah. Hell, I don’t know anymore. Why?”

  “I thought as much. Did you and Kent use protection?”

  “Well, no. We sort of got lost in the moment. You aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” she said, that eyebrow quirking up at me. I wanted to snatch it off her face.

  “Impossible. I get the Depo shot religiously. Every three months, without fail.”

  “And when was the last time you had it before you had sex with Kent?”

  “That’s easy. It was right before Thanksgiving. I’d met another gorgeous cover model the week after and had a great time.”

  “Alexis, you met Kent in February. It’s April now. Don’t you think your shot probably wore off before you met him?”

  I did the math in my head, then blanched as I realized she was right. My stomach started doing that twisting inside me again, and I had to swallow rapidly to keep it from trying to exit my body via my mouth again.

  “Jesus Christ, Stacy. I can’t be pregnant. I just can’t be. They did a test before I got my last shot at the end of February.”

  “You might not have been far enough along for it to register on a test. Let’s take a trip to the pharmacy and find out for sure.”

  Two hours, a gallon of water, and thirteen tests later, it was confirmed. I was pregnant.