Crash and Burn (4 page)

“Sure. What?” He was tired. Even he heard it in his voice as he stifled a yawn.

“If you’re not interested, I can ask another time.” She went back to her book.

“It’s been a long day, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. I guess. So my question... Why did you marry my sister? Honestly.”

He crossed his arms. That was the twenty-four-million-dollar question, wasn’t it? “Would you believe I love her?” he asked, looking at her surreptitiously.

“Ahhh...no.”

“I’ve always wanted to be married?” he tried again.

“Good try, next?”

He saw the corners of her mouth curve up. “She’s pregnant with my child?”

She slammed the book closed. “Really?” She shifted on the swing to face him.

“No, not really,” he said. “We just met this weekend in Vegas. We haven’t even slept together.”

She crossed her arms and sat back mirroring him. “So?”

“So what?” he asked, enjoying bantering with her. When she wasn’t attacking him, she was almost pleasant.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Honestly? She’s the type of woman I like to date. No offense, but your sister isn’t the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. I like my women pretty and easily pleased. Your sister was full of energy that night at the casino.”

“Did you take advantage of her?”

He tsked, standing up and beginning to pace. “Now how am I supposed to answer? Yes, and I’m a creep. No, and I’m a liar. She came up to me and asked me to buy her a drink. The whole time her tongue was in my ear, she never mentioned she was engaged.”

“I believe it. She always strives to be the center of attention. If she’d told you she was engaged, what would you have done?”

“Nothing. I would have left her with her drink.”

“Exactly. So what were you doing there?”

“I was relaxing before I started looking for a wife.”

Her face registered shock. “Really?”

“Yep. My manager, Walt, thought I should get married to change my playboy image. So I went shopping for a wife. I should have gotten the money-back warranty.”

“You went to Vegas to find a wife?” Grace chuckled in the darkness.

It was a nice sound. It reminded him of sitting with his family on the front porch of his parents’ house growing up. Listening to music and the sounds of the night.

“Not exactly. I was there scoping the scene. Blowing off steam.”

“You are going to divorce her, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You can’t stay married to her. She’s in love with Hank.”

“Sure, but is Hank really the man for her? She needs a strong man who can handle her temper,” he said, leaning up against the railing.

“Whatever.” She swiveled around until her feet were on the swing before flipping her book open.

“Conversation over?” he murmured.

“Yep.” She kept reading.

“Will you consider Saturday?”

“Conversation was over, remember?”

“Saturday?”

She looked up at him.

The night wrapped around them, cocooning them in the intimate darkness. The peepers stopped chirping, the moon grew brighter and the woman sitting on the porch held the answer he needed.

“I’ve been bailing Divina out of situations for, well, since we could walk. She expects me to clean up after her every time.”

“Aren’t you here to help her? Isn’t that why you moved in? Or was it my devilish charm?” He meant it as a joke, but he anticipated her answer anyway.

She snorted. “Oh, yeah. You’re charming all right.”

“Think about Saturday. I could really use your help.” He hated to sound so desperate. He could demand Divina go with him, but fear niggled at his brain like the feeling of a tire blowing at one hundred miles per hour.

Besides, he
was
desperate.

“No,” Grace said as she turned another page. “I have a date on Saturday.”

Grace had a date? He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Someone was going to get to go out with her, hold her hand, and tell her how beautiful she looked. He admitted it bugged him not because she had a date, but because she was going a date with someone other than him. He needed a pit stop to gather his thoughts.

He grumbled as he went in the house and walked up the stairs. It never crossed his mind she might have a boyfriend–someone to occupy her Friday nights. Someone who would kick his ass for the thoughts swirling around in his mind.

He felt his way down the hallway to his new room. When he nudged the door open, light from the street shown on two lumps in the bed.

He pressed his lips together, debating whether to protest his rightful place in the comfy bed or not bother the sleeping couple. One lump was his wife, but it wasn’t as if the marriage was in any way other than a shared name.

He sighed and stepped back, shutting the door silently. It wasn’t worth the trouble tonight. He’d already stirred the pot, as Grace had pointed out.

When he’d been in Grace’s room earlier he’d seen an extra bed, so he closed the door to Divina’s room and headed down the hall. He was sure to hear about his decision tomorrow, but for now he needed the day to end. He stripped off everything except his tighty-whities. It was a compromise from how he generally slept, which would not soothe Grace’s sensibilities if she saw him in the morning.

Maybe he’d have his RV brought over for good. He could sleep in the driveway. On second thought, he cursed his lack of foresight, the press would find him in the driveway, not in bed with his new bride. Bad idea. Sighing deeply, he shut his eyes.

“What the hell?” he grunted. He was sure he’d only closed his eyes a few minutes ago, but the strange orange light coming through the window hinted otherwise.

He felt another stabbing pain in his side, exactly like the one that had woken him. Squinting one eye open, he looked in the direction of the offense.

“What are you doing in my room?” Grace hissed, poking him again with what appeared to be a ski pole.

“Knock it off,” he said, reaching out and effortlessly taking the stick from her with a flick of his wrist. He opened his other eye.

“What time is it?”

“Time for you to get out of my room.” She stood over him with her arms crossed, her hair a wild, out-of-control mess and her eyes still sleepy.

“What time is it?” he tried again.

“Six.”

“As in six-in-the-morning?”

“Yes,” she said. There was delight in her one word.

“I need to sleep a bit longer,” he said.

“We are not sharing this room. Divina said you would be on the couch.”

He groaned and tried to shield his lower regions from her.

“Stop being a baby,” she said.

He looked up at her. “Remember what I said about my jammies?”

She narrowed her eyes. She remembered, because all of a sudden she glanced down to the part of him covered by the sheet.

He chuckled. “That’s right, sweetheart. Unless you want a show, then I suggest you give me a few more minutes.”

She scrunched up her face. “You want to jerk off here in my room.”

It was his turn to be shocked. She looked almost amused by his reaction to her words. He’d guess words like “jerk off” didn’t cross her lips often. Actually he’d hope she would stop talking altogether and climb into bed with him.

“Grace, please give me a moment,” he begged for the second time in twelve hours.

She spun on her heels and left the room without a word.

“Thanks,” he called out.

* * * *

“Your husband is in my room,” Grace told Divina a few minutes later in the kitchen.

“So?”

Grace had not slept well and finding Stone in her room had created a poor start to her Friday. “It can’t happen. You married him. You should have to sleep with him.”

“Where would Hank sleep?” she asked with no trace of humor in her voice.

“Not in my room,” Grace said.

“See,” Divina said, trying to get her to agree. “You and Stone are guests in our house. You should share the guest room. Hank isn’t going to sleep on the couch.”

Grace gritted her teeth. “I need some coffee.” She elbowed past her sister.

“Grace, I know you’re not happy about being here, but the more uncomfortable we make Stone, the sooner he’ll leave.”

“I don’t think he’s going anywhere.” Grace poured coffee into a mug on the counter. “Honestly.”

As soon as she sat down, Stone walked into the room wearing a pair of plaid lounge pants and a white t-shirt. “Good morning, wife,” he said, depositing a peck on Divina’s cheek.

“Morning,” Divina grumbled in disgust.

“Good morning, Grace,” He poured himself a mug of coffee and joined her at the table. “Anyone interested in going to a race tomorrow?” he asked playfully.

“Nope,” Grace said first.

“Not me either,” Divina said. “I hate the loud noise. And the dust.”

“You’re not leaving me many options. The media will start to hunt around if no one shows up at the race with me.” He crossed his arms.

Grace felt bad for the situation Stone had found himself in with her sister, but she refused to take the burden from Divina. Her only responsibility was to make sure the police weren’t called because God knew there was enough tension in the house between Hank and Stone, Stone and Divina, and Stone and her. This time her sister would have to pony up and go to the race herself.

Grace chugged her lukewarm coffee before going in search of a suitable date for tomorrow.

Chapter 3

Grace ran to the door when the bell rang Saturday morning. Richard was right on time and most likely had brought flowers. He was predictable and sweet, but so not her type. She hated to take advantage of the crush he’d had on her since freshman year in college, but she was out of ideas and men to keep her out of her brother-in-law’s crosshairs. She was not going to the race with Stone. No way. No how. And even though her stomach quickened when she saw him,
she
was not his wife.

Grace pulled open the door. Richard stood on the porch holding a bouquet of wildflowers. The price tag swung from the stems.

“Hi, Richard.” She invited him in with a smile.

“I’m so glad you called me.” Richard handed her the flowers. “These are for you.”

“Aww. That’s so sweet,” Stone’s deep, masculine voice reverberated behind her.

Grace sighed. “Shut up, Stone. Richard, this is–”

“I know who he is. Stone Adams. Great to meet you.” Richard stuck his hand out to shake Stone’s hand. Stone grasped his hand and gave it two pumps. “I didn’t know you lived here.”

“I just moved in. Grace and I are sort of roommates.” He winked and slung his arm over Grace’s shoulder.

She tried to shrug it off, but he held on, massaging her shoulder with his fingers. She tried to ignore the warm feeling pooling her in nether regions from Stone’s harmless touch.

“Richard is my date for the day,” she said, ignoring the small circles Stone was drawing with his fingers. “Didn’t you say you had a race, Stone?”

“I did. Thanks for remembering. I’m off to the track soon.”

“I’ve got the race TiVo’d so I can watch it later,” Richard gushed. “Best of luck to you. We’d better get going, Grace.”

“Thanks for the good wishes. And you kids have a super time today. Take care of my girl.”

The pressure of Stone’s hand released, but before she could feel grateful, he slapped her ass. She jumped and glared at him. Unfazed at her outrage, he reached out to shake hands with Richard like nothing had happened. Grace couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the house. Outrage flowed through her. How dare Stone make it look like they were more than roommates? How dare he slap her ass? She was ticked. There was no reason for his involvement in her love life. He had no say in whom she did and did not date. Even without words he’d found a way to cause trouble on her date. And what she’d felt when he touched her was…nothing–absolutely nothing.

At least her date hadn’t asked Stone for an autograph. She shook her head. This day was going to be long. Usually on race days she puttered around the house, then settled down in front of the TV to watch her favorite playboy driver. She’d also Tivo’d the race, not that she’d tell Stone.

In the safety of the car, Richard put the stick into drive and, still staring straight ahead, asked, “What’s with you and Stone Adams? Are you two living together?”

She saw the worry lines wrinkling his forehead and she considered telling him the truth. She didn’t care if he knew Stone and her sister were married, but then she’d have to explain the sleeping arrangements, the public displays of affection and that slap on the ass. What a tangled web they’d woven as a group and she wasn’t sure whether the truth was the right story to tell. “Yeah, we’re living together, but it’s complicated.”

“If you and he... Then what am I doing here?”