Close to Perfect (30 page)

“Yeah, I do,” she said. “Thanks.”

As the woman finally pulled away, Tess sighed. “Big plans. Right.”

 

 

Tonight was going to be brutal.

The truth of that was in the way no one came out to her car even though Tess sat in it for twenty minutes after arriving at her father's house.

They knew she was here, Tess saw them pulling back the front curtains to sneak peeks at her. Maybe they were hoping she'd drive away and they wouldn't have to eat her stuff. Maybe they were afraid she had finally started crying and they hadn't a clue how to make it stop.

She wasn't crying, but a sadness so deep that it could no longer be ignored had gripped Tess on the drive here. She kept wondering what tonight would have been like if everything hadn't gone so bad with Josh.

They might have gone skinny-dipping in his pool or run naked over the grounds of that golf course or kissed like crazy in hijacked elevators or took turns cuffing each other to his boat or started a journey they would share for the rest of their lives.

She would have loved him forever if only given the chance. She would love him forever and he'd never know it.

Sighing deeply, Tess finally hauled ass and left her car.

When she got to the porch she heard everyone hurrying away from the window where they'd been watching her. Tess gave them a few minutes to get to their chairs, then went inside.

Everyone started talking at once, trying to act natural. Vic and Hank and her dad were ganging up on Sammie and Peg, who was now considered one of the usual suspects.

“Hey,” Tess said.

“Oh, look,” Sammie said, “Tessie's here.”

“That she is,” Peg said. “Hi, hon.”

“Hey, Tessie,” Hank said, then spoke to Vic who was sitting right next to him. “Tessie's here.”

“Hey, Tessie,” he said.

She wanted to run. She pointed over her shoulder. “I'll be in the kitchen.”

“Sure, go on,” Vic said, “we're getting ready to play and we all really liked those little pizzas you made last week. Right, guys?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Tess wondered if she should tell them about the extra fiber she had put in the sauce, but decided against it.

“Go on,” her father said. “We can't wait all night. We're hungry. Right, guys?”

Everyone nodded again.

Tess turned, then went down the hall to the bathroom to have a good cry.

“Where's she going?” her father asked.

“Bathroom, I bet,” Sammie said.

“You want me to get her?” Peg asked.

Vic called out, “Tessie, are you going to go into the kitch—”

“Okay, just stop it,” Tess said as she came back down the hall. “I'm going into the stupid kitchen, okay? And if any of you say my food's good tonight, there will be hell to pay, understand?”

They all nodded again.

Damn. Tess went into the kitchen, rounded the counter, and stopped dead.

There was a guy on the floor with his head under the sink.

Uh-uh. Couldn't be.

Tess checked out those long, blue-jeaned legs and that snug black T-shirt before her gaze settled on that lovely bulge behind his fly.

Oh, my God. She was so quickly dizzy she had to lean against the counter for support.

At just that moment Josh finished whatever he'd been doing, then pushed out and looked up at her. “Hey, you okay?”

Tess didn't think so. Her ears were ringing and her mouth was unbelievably dry.

He was really here. It had been so long since she'd seen him that his eyes seemed darker than she recalled. His hair seemed lighter, too. Tess was about to sink to the floor so she could touch it and his bristly cheeks and every other part of him when she thought better of it. “You're here?”

His brows lifted. He pushed to his feet and wiped his hands on a rag. “Sure.”

Sure? As if being in her father's house and under her father's sink was the most natural thing in the world when her heart was still pounding out of control. “Why?”

Josh seemed uncertain how to answer, then finally shrugged. “It's poker night.”

That was not what Tess had expected or wanted to hear. She frowned at him, then looked over her shoulder as Hank and Vic laughed about something. Those goons had known all along that Josh was in here fixing the sink, that he would be here for nothing more than poker, and hadn't warned her?

She wanted to yell at them... and maybe kiss them, too. Now, she would at least be able to see Josh every single week during these games. She would be able to watch him as he played. She would be able to hear him talk about his life that might possibly include another woman.

She turned back to him. “And poker's the
only
reason you're here?”

Josh seemed surprised by her tone, not to mention a little uneasy. “Well, the guys gotta eat, too.”

Tess suddenly noticed the serving dishes on the kitchen table. She frowned, then looked over her shoulder at more laughter coming from the living room.

“But I'll be here a lot more than just poker nights,” he said.

Another surprise. “You're going to start cooking for my dad?”

Josh smiled. “He would like that, wouldn't he? But no, I'm not cooking for him. Lots to fix around here, though.” He took a tool out of his back pocket and put it on the counter.

Tess looked at it, then him. “You're going to fix stuff around this house for my dad?”

“I'd like to keep him as happy as possible since he's armed.” His gaze dipped to her shorts as if he was looking for her gun. “But even if he weren't, it wouldn't be wise for a guy to piss off his future father-in-law.”

Her ears started ringing again. “What?”

“If you'll have me,” he said.

Tess could barely breathe. She started to cry. “You're proposing to me?”

“He finally did it,” Sammie called out to the others.

Tess looked over her shoulder just in time to see a wavy image of the older woman hurrying back to her chair while everyone else, even her father, gave each other high-fives.

Maybe she was in the wrong house. Tess looked back at Josh as he called out, “Hey, guys! Can Tess and I have a minute?”

“Let's go outside,” Freddy said.

As the screen door banged shut, Josh gathered her into his arms. “Are you okay?”

Tess nodded as she continued to cry.

“Sure?”

“You're really proposing to me?”

“Yeah. I finally got up the courage.”

Tess threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, my poor baby!”

“Huh?”

“You're still scared of commitment, huh?”

Josh pulled her arms away and eased back. “No, I'm scared of you.”

“What?”

“Holy shit, Tess, what man wouldn't be? You didn't exactly do backflips when I told you I loved you at the yacht on what I considered one of the best nights of my life. After that, it took me until today to get up the nerve for this and to get your father on board. He's almost as bad as you are.”

Tess heard him and the others talking in the front yard. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “But he finally agreed?”

“He had no choice. I told him I wasn't giving up.”

She started crying again. “You fought him for me?”

“Are you kidding? I'd fight the world for you. You're my woman; you've been my woman from the first moment we met.”

“Your woman?” She threw her arms around his neck again. “Oh, I like that.”

“You're also a snob.”

That wasn't so nice. This time, Tess pulled back. “What?”

“You think you're morally superior to me because I've made a lot of money. You think you have a corner on honor, integrity, feelings, and what it takes to be a good marriage partner, to honor a commitment, or to simply be in love. Well, let me tell you something; you're not the only one who's had a couple of lousy weeks. I've never been so damned miserable in all my life. And it's all your fault.”

Her cheeks and throat were hot. She mumbled, “I just wanted you to know what I need.”

“You told me what you needed and then split because you just figured someone who has my dough isn't only morally hopeless, but no good.”

“I never said that, Josh. I'd never say that. But you were insensitive and bossy.”

“So I didn't sing you a love song, is that any reason to run away? You couldn't have stayed and continued to criticize me at least until we worked things out?”

Even her scalp felt hot. “Was I that bad?”

“We both were. Let's start over. I don't want you being a body—”

“You call that starting over?”

“You didn't let me finish.”

Tess cupped his face in her hands. “Sorry, but baby, I do like being a bodyguard.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed, then continued, “That's why I'm supporting you fully in it, even though I don't particularly like it. I worry about you. And if we have a daughter, no way is she being a cop or a bodyguard. She is going to be a dancer.”

“A daughter? Oh, I like that.”

He smiled.

“But it'll be up to her whether she wants dancing, Josh. We don't push. We don't choose. We don't bitch. Please.”

He sighed, again. “Maybe we'll have all boys.”

Tess wreathed her arms around his neck. “Josh, there's no reason for you to worry about me. I would never put myself in danger without discussing it with you first.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She smiled, and she cried, and then she smiled, again. “With most of these jobs I'm just a glorified babysitter like I was with you.”

He arched one brow.

Oh, how she loved playing with him. How Tess had missed that. “With others, I run errands. You know, pick up stuff at the pharmacy or the cleaners. I never dodge bullets, throw myself on bombs, or taste food to see if it's poisoned. I'm watching my weight and my limbs, so I have to draw the line somewhere.”

He laughed.

It was so rich and free, Tess fell in love with him all over again. “The client I'm working for now is this middle-age lady who writes romances and wants me around as a status symbol.”

“Yeah, I know. Your dad told me,” Josh said, before she could ask. “Thank God he's running the show. I'm expecting him to keep you in line at work.”

Her brows lifted.

“And,” he added, “for you to keep yourself safe for me.”

Tess smiled. “I would never choose danger over you, never.”

Josh ran his hands to her butt. “Good to hear. So, what else?”

She shook her head. “That's it. I'll be safe. You'll be happy. And our daughter, if we should have one, will be whatever she wants even if it's not a dancer.”

“I love you, Teressa. There, I've said it again. Don't you have anything to say to me?”

What was she thinking? Cradling the side of his face in her hand, Tess spoke from the heart.
“Yo le adoro.”
I adore you. Words her mother had always said to her father.

Words Tess repeated to Josh again and again in between their kisses.

“Ah, guys?” Freddy finally called from the living room. “We're hungry. You two through yet?”

“Not for a very long time,” Josh murmured.

Tess smiled, and then she cried a little, too, because the truth of that statement was in his eyes; she felt it in his touch. They wouldn't be through for a lifetime.

It was more than she had ever hoped for and exactly what she needed.

The title says it all!
Tempt Me, Tease Me, Thrill Me.
Here's a look at Tina Donahue's story in
BAD BOYS WITH RED ROSES,
available now from Brava...

 

 

U
ntil tonight Cait Campbell had no idea that a black tie dinner could be even more disturbing than an aerobics class filled with a bunch of leering guys.

Of course, as the junior member of Chicago's esteemed Maples & Weiss law firm, she was the sacrificial lamb for tonight's event, which included a charity auction. In no time at all, the leering guys in here would be bidding on one dinner date with her in order to raise funds for a good cause.

God.
For this she had graduated first in her class at Harvard Law, then clerked for a powerful Federal judge and now worked eighty-hour weeks that left little time for dates she might actually want. Not that she had had any of those recently, or even wanted to after what she had once experienced with Sean.

Cait closed her eyes and ordered herself not to think about him again. Okay, okay, so she would think of him only until she was auctioned off.
You are hopeless.

For the last four months she had not been able to forget the man. Memories of Sean Logan flooded Cait's mind before, during, and after just about everything she did with tonight being no exception. How could it be? This dinner was being held in the same ballroom that had hosted the reception for Cait's cousin Julia, who had married Sean's younger brother Tim.

It was at that wedding reception, or rather after it, that everything had changed for Cait.

Uh-uh. She really couldn't think of that now. She really shouldn't think of—

Too late. That night came back with such startling clarity, Cait's breathing picked up. That night, as the other wedding guests were gathering around the lavish buffet and open bars that had been set up in here, Cait recalled holding back. There hadn't been a thing on those tables that would have satisfied her hunger. She wanted Sean. It was a need that was soul deep and one Cait had not been able to deny.

Because of that, she had forced herself to wait. She watched the others eat and drink, then regarded the newlyweds, who were sharing a playful kiss that quickly turned breathless. Before they embarrassed themselves or anyone else, Julia smacked Tim's butt, then pushed him into the hall for some privacy. Cait glanced from that closing door to another bridesmaid who had cornered one of the young servers with her soft voice, sultry look, and billowy gown.

Cait knew that whatever the girl was offering him wouldn't come close to what she would give to Sean.

Just a bit longer,
she told herself, until she was aching inside. At last, she gave in to her heart and glanced past the crowd.

Sean's gaze was already on her.

Liquid heat poured through Cait, making her feel deliciously weak and completely female.

It was a stunning desire she had never really known, and yet experienced the moment she first met Sean only days earlier during the wedding rehearsals. It was as if she had known this man all her life.

His clean scent was welcome and familiar, his confident bearing an unexpected comfort, while his masculinity—
wow—
made all the other crud in life bearable.

Oh, he was something. Tall, with deliciously male features, dark hair that was silky and thick, and a build that was lean yet muscular.

No way was anyone gonna mess with this man.

Even his pierced ear, a souvenir from his work as an undercover narcotics officer with the Chicago Police, made him seem wild, like a pirate, and aroused Cait beyond reason.

As did his approach.

He moved through the crowd that night as if Cait were his only reason for being.

How she adored that.

When he was finally so close that Cait could feel his heat, Sean leaned down to her and asked, “Enjoying yourself?”

Her skin tingled. There was nothing like his rich voice and luscious scent. Turning her face to his, all caution drifted away. The only thing that mattered was tonight with him. “Not yet,” she murmured, “but I hope to.”

Sean's eyes grew hooded as he took her hand, his firm grip saying he had no intention of letting go.

This was a man who knew what he wanted. He was not going to be denied.

Minutes later they were upstairs in Suite 854. What happened after that was deliciously wicked, achingly tender, and something Cait just couldn't think about again.

Her time with Sean was beautiful, but over. She had to get real. Heavenly sex, stimulating conversations, shared laughter, unyielding desire, and a man who seemed to really want her did not necessarily make for a lasting relationship.

Just look at her mom and dad. Twenty years they had given each other and for what? Immediately after their own divorce, they started marrying and divorcing just about everyone else.

Those romances always started off good until the great sex wore off, loyalties were broken, and the nasty prenups kicked in. And that was an eventuality Cait couldn't face with Sean. From the get-go, she had wanted him too badly. To have him for a time, only to lose him in the future to another woman—uh-uh, no damned way. It was better to simply forget their one night, move on from that fantasy of Forever After and focus on the godawful date she was about to get.

Please, just make it go fast,
Cait prayed, ignoring the persistent yearning in her heart as she looked around this table to her boss, his senior partner, and her colleague, Billy Price.

They were all staring at her.

Cait stopped stroking her champagne glass. Had she just spoken her thoughts of Sean aloud? “What?”

Walter Maples, the firm's founder, tapped the linen napkin against his aristocratic lips, which complemented his aquiline nose, silvery hair, and pale-as-death skin.

The man was so purebred Cait was always surprised by his startling bluntness, which she knew was coming.
Come on,
she thought, feeling vaguely annoyed,
just spit it out.

Walt made her wait as he folded his napkin. At last, he said, “You can resume breathing, Cait. We do understand how you feel.”

Oh hell. What in the world had she said when she was thinking about Sean? Did these people actually know how his rich laughter stirred something deep within, and how her heart whimpered at the sight of him asleep, his dark hair tousled, his sensuous lips parted in a quiet sigh, his bristly cheeks betraying his utter masculin—

Will you just stop?
“You do?”

“Of course. That's why Billy knows to get the ball rolling.”

Cait looked at the man. He was thirty-one, the same as her, just as slender, and blushing at the sudden attention, which was no surprise. As much as Cait enjoyed a court battle, Billy had always preferred a behind-the-scenes, non-confrontational role.

Leaning toward him, she asked, “What ball are you planning to roll?”

The skin around Billy's receding hairline turned pink.

Walt answered for him. “The bidding on that dinner date with you.”

Ah.
She sighed.

That was not lost on Abbie Weiss, the firm's senior partner. “Well, we certainly don't want you standing up there looking like a fool.”

As if Billy's bid could change all that? Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Cait looked at the Princess of Darkness.

In her day, Abbie Weiss had probably been considered handsome, or spooky, what with her penetrating gaze and prominent features. It was her platinum pedigree, however, that got Walt all hot and bothered.

Go figure. Cait made her voice nice. “I certainly wouldn't want to disappoint you.”

Walt leaned forward in his chair. “Then don't.”

“Especially when it comes to getting that associate judgeship,” Abbie said.

Walt put up his hands. “That possibility shouldn't even be considered. Not being appointed would make the firm look bad.”

Abbie looked at him. “Everyone would think we made a mistake in bringing her on.”

“Exactly.” He frowned at Cait. “That has never happened with any other member of the firm. I would hope you don't want to be the first.”

She stopped pressing her fingers against her temple and shook her head.

“See that,” Walt said to Abbie. “She has no intention of screwing us.”

Abbie's dark eyes grew even more intense as if she were as aroused by Walt's bluntness as he was by hers.

Cait wasn't about to consider what happened when the two of them got together.

Abbie tapped the table in front of her. “Doing well tonight will only help your candidacy.”

Uh-huh. Cait bet none of the other judicial candidates had a section in their resumés about being auctioned off to the highest bidder.

“Now, you,” Walt said, tapping Billy's cufflink with a dessert fork, “remember to start the bidding low. If we can get away with a thousand—”

“Or less,” Abbie offered.

Surely they were joking or giving her a way out before she humiliated the firm. Slipping on her reading glasses, Cait scanned the program for tonight's event. As Walt and Abbie kept lowering the bid, she finally interrupted, “What you're proposing won't work. The bid has to be twenty-five hundred—at the very least.”

Walt frowned. “By whose authority?”

Cait suspected the sponsors of this loony event. Lifting the program, she pointed out the obvious.

“It is tax deductible,” Billy offered as he looked up from the icing that Walt's fork had left on his tux.

The man leaned back in his chair and pouted. “Keep it as close to the required bid as you can.”

“There's no need to worry,” Abbie said. “Once Billy makes the opening bid it'll be over.”

Cait arched one slender brow. Nothing like these two to make her feel attractive and in demand.

Realistically, Billy didn't have much competition tonight. Many of the guys here—and there were attorneys, civic leaders, industrialists, and physicians—were too old to bid on a dinner they wouldn't be able to digest, while the others were currently involved in so many divorces, remarriages and extramarital affairs, their dance cards were already full.

Just like mom and dad's.

They had been divorced a scant twelve years, but already Cait's father had remarried three times, her mom twice and there seemed to be no end to their lunacy. The older they got, the younger their spouses and lovers.

Cait wouldn't have been surprised if her mother was currently dating one of the male servers in this room since she owned the Livingston on the Lake along with most of the other luxury hotels in Chicago. It was how Cait's parents had met. Her dad owned the real estate beneath this building, at least until after they split.

That divorce had been so nasty it was tailor-made for a Donald Trump reality show, and it was definitely something Cait would avoid in her own life.

Sighing, she looked at Billy as he gently tapped her wrist. “What?”

He glanced at Walt and Abbie who were whispering as they plotted their next rendezvous or coup. Turning back to Cait, he kept his voice low. “The MC's on the stage. It's show time.”

Cait crossed her eyes. It got a smile out of Billy and went completely unnoticed by Abbie and Walt. They kept up that whisperfest throughout the first thirty minutes of this auction in which an Internet mogul, a female surgeon, and a male real estate developer looked like deer caught in headlights as they faced this less-than-generous crowd.

Cait added up the bids thus far and could see that the sponsors weren't anywhere near their targeted—

Her thoughts paused; her head snapped up as the spotlight suddenly swung to her.

Eww.
She squinted.

Walt whispered, “Smile!”

Cait started to, until the MC introduced her as Carmen, not Caitlin, Campbell.

Walt whispered during the scant applause, “Take off those glasses.”

“Can she see without them?” Abbie asked Walt, then turned to Cait. “Can you see without them?”

“I only use them for read—”

“Then take them off!” Abbie ordered.

“Do us proud,” Walt warned.

Billy patted her arm. “Break a leg.”

Abbie pressed her fingers to the inside corners of her eyes as if she expected Cait would.

I wish.
Cait figured a few weeks in traction might be kind of nice after working with these two. Removing her glasses, she stood, then began the long trek toward the stage with all the grace she had learned in those dumb social deportment classes that taught little girls how to behave like Stepford Wives.

As she eased past tables, Cait's beaded gown whispered around her, twinkling beneath the enormous chandeliers and that spotlight.

There were a few wolf whistles with one being interrupted by a hacking cough. Cait guessed that belonged to the elderly circuit judge who was expected to appoint her to the bench. That is, if she did well tonight.

Right.
The moment she reached the stage, Cait turned and faced this crowd with the same cockiness she used when squaring off against adversaries in court.

Some of the guys must have liked that because those wolf whistles were suddenly prolonged.

The MC grinned so hard it had to hurt. “Now, now,” he said, flapping his hands, “let's settle down.” When the wolf whistles were replaced by that same hacking cough, he leaned toward the microphone and read from his cue cards. “Ms. Campbell comes to us from the law firm of Maples & Winters and—”