Get Bunny Love (19 page)

He never took his eyes from hers, nor she from his. Nate shook his head, extending a hand. “I’ll take that. Thanks.”

A swallow worked in Bunny’s throat as she handed him the cup, brushing the ceramic against his fingers.

“What colors did you have in mind?” Nate asked.

Her eyes popped wide.

“For the curtains,” he explained.

A slow grin curved up the corners of her mouth and she laughed, sloshing hot coffee onto the blanket covering Nate’s lap. “Cripes.”

Nate closed his eyes, the moment lost. Was it his imagination, or did chaos prevail each and every time he weakened in the woman’s presence?

She thunked the cup onto the nightstand, pressing a napkin to Nate’s lap.

“It’s not that bad.” Nate’s voice tightened. “Honestly, let’s just get to work.”

Bunny pressed and patted, her cheeks flushing to a deep red. “I’m so sorry. You mentioned color and I got all...” She tipped up her chin, giving Nate a look that rocked him to the core. “Excited.”

She wasn’t the only one
. Nate winced with the realization that Bunny’s inadvertent lap massage was having a similar effect. His eye twitched and he slapped his hand over hers. “You need to stop.”

“What on earth is going on here?” Aunt Martha’s voice boomed from the doorway.

Nate winced and all color drained from Bunny’s face. Damn. Just what he didn’t need—more ammunition for his aunt’s ire. Bunny straightened, moving quickly away from the bed. “Coffee spill.” She pointed her finger.

“I’m sure.” Martha’s tone could have frozen hell.

“Miss Love was updating me on the Cup.” Nate’s voice felt tight and he silently berated himself. Why did he let his aunt’s approval matter so much?

Her expression softened for a moment and he realized she’d spotted the pen and ink. “I brought you some updated financials,” she said flatly, forcing her gaze away from the drawing and onto Nate. “You’d be wiser to focus on numbers than on coffee, I’d say.”

Nate watched her wordlessly. Had Bunny’s mother been right? Had Aunt Martha had a creative side once, penning the drawing his mother had so loved?

“I should get back to the office.” Bunny nodded toward Nate as she gathered her folders. “I’ll fax you an update.”

“Very good.” He did his best to keep the regret seeping through his body out of his voice. He’d been decidedly susceptible to Bunny’s charms today. Must be the pain pills.

o0o

Martha watched the young woman scamper from Nate’s bedroom, her nephew’s dejected expression not going unnoticed. “I’ll walk you out, Bunny.”

She yanked the coffee-stained blanket from Nate’s bed, tossing it into the hamper and pulling fresh linens from the closet. As she covered Nate’s lap, she shot him a glare, hoping she left no room for misinterpretation. “Tread carefully.”

He said nothing, returning her glare with the same intensity she’d given him.

Martha caught up to Bunny at the front door, following her into the hall. Bunny spun to face her. “My mother mentioned your talent for pen and inks.”

The young woman’s impossibly blue eyes sparkled, and Martha fought to keep her shock off her face. She’d expected her to apologize for her behavior, not question Martha’s past.

She’d tried to avoid all thoughts of her long forgotten artwork, much as she ached for the creative outlet. Seeing the drawing in Nate’s bedroom had been surprising enough. She’d have to cut off Miss Love’s line of inquiry quickly.

“Your mother must be mistaken. She never was one to pay much attention.”

Bunny blinked then nodded, as if accepting she’d be getting no further information. “I thought perhaps you’d done the drawing on Nate’s nightstand. It’s exquisite.”

For the briefest moment, Martha longed to hear more, but she straightened, brushing past Bunny to press the elevator button. “I’m sure the artist would be thrilled to hear you liked his or her work.”

Bunny’s warm vanilla scent tickled Martha’s nose as she stepped near, her expression a toss between understanding and sympathy. “It would be a sin to waste a talent like that.”

Martha focused on the illuminated numbers above the elevator doors, ignoring the regret whispering at the back of her brain. She knew all about wasting her talent, but then, what choice had life left her?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Nate leaned against the back of his chair and glowered at the office wall.
Maroon
. The color gave the space a feel not completely horrible, he decided. Not that he’d admit that to Bunny. Hell. Not that he’d admit that to anyone.

He gingerly rubbed the tender area just between his spine and right hip. He’d been laid up on his back for three and a half weeks thanks to Bunny’s campaign for improved energy. The injury had kept him on bed rest, safely distanced from the mop-topped menace—with the exception of their one rather interesting meeting. If Aunt Martha hadn’t interrupted when she had, Nate might have done something he’d regret.

He’d safely overseen agency business via phone and laptop from that point forward, instructing Bert to keep him updated on all Cup preparations. A knock sounded at the door and he wrestled his thoughts to the present.

“Miss Love left these for you.” Miss Peabody deposited a stack of folders on the corner of his bare desk. “She thought you’d like to see the media coverage the Cup’s received.”

“Mmm.”

She frowned at his brilliant display of verbal skill then continued. “She also wanted to remind you that Jeremy will be here this morning for your final approval on the Web site. Call me if you need anything.”

Nate slid the files to the center of his desk. The soft aroma of vanilla wafted up from the papers sending warmth seeping through his chest. His eye twitched.
Damn
. That hadn’t happened since he’d seen Bunny last. Not once.

He flipped through the rundown of media hits. This year’s event had received more coverage than he could remember for the past five. A smug grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. This would show Armand Miller. What had Bunny called him? An egotistical, self-adoring jerk? Nate laughed. She might be a menace, but the woman was an expert judge of character.

A picture of her vibrant blue eyes flashed through his mind, and he groaned. He’d been able to tamp down most thoughts of Bunny until today. His eyelid twitched again. Damn the woman and her positive chi. Perhaps the Cup would be so successful another firm would hire her away. He could only hope. His stomach tightened in protest.

Bunny Love might have succeeded in sending his nerves and libido into turmoil, but she had not succeeded in corrupting the staff at McNulty Events. From what Bert had reported, she’d been subdued and low profile during his absence. Apparently, she’d finally accepted the rules of decorum.

Now all Nate needed to do was focus his thoughts on anything and everything but her.

o0o

Owen Carruthers, McNulty’s chief financial officer, sank into the straight-backed chair next to Bunny’s desk. “He’s back.” His worried brow wrinkled. “Have you seen him?”

Bunny shook her head. Nor did she want to. Well, she wanted to, but she was afraid to. Their last conversation had resulted in a lap full of coffee and an unfortunate groping incident. Okay, not
entirely
unfortunate. In the meantime, she’d done what she considered to be a fine job for The Worthington Cup, including evading Armand Miller and his endless event planning tips.

“Do you have my package?” Owen’s expression grew anxious and Bunny realized Nate’s return would require her to rethink the creative goody distribution. “Right here.” She slipped a brown paper bag from beneath her desk and handed it over. “Keep them under wraps until you’re in your office.”

“Will do.” The man pulled himself upright and stepped toward the door. He tucked the bag under his elbow and looked back at Bunny. “We appreciate you, even if he doesn’t.”

A twinge of sadness tightened Bunny’s chest. Her unorthodox methods had garnered the approval of most everyone in the firm, but not the one opinion she coveted most. During Nate’s absence, she’d supplied just about every McNulty employee with tools for improving energy and creativity—from slinkies, to singing hamsters, to slippers. She turned back to her desk and picked up the phone.

Oh well. She refused to pine away over Nate McNulty. He certainly wasn’t missing her. Whenever she’d suggested subsequent visits to his home, he’d refused. He’d made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her. Knowing Nate, he’d probably counted the days until the Cup was over so he could fire her creative rear end.

Bunny let out a frustrated breath, listening to the ringing at the other end of the line, doing her best to ignore the persistent ache in her heart.

“Saslow Sundries,” a deep voice barked out.

“It’s Bunny Love. You ready for me?” She listened intently for several moments, staring at her watch. “Sounds good. I’ll be there in twenty.”

She called down for a taxi, slipped off her bunny slippers and stepped into her black leather pumps. It was a good thing she had plenty of running around to do before the cocktail party tomorrow night. All the better to avoid Nate McNulty and his deep, dark, smoldering eyes.

o0o

Nate frowned at Jeremy’s laptop perched in the middle of his desk. His brother clicked through the final Web site design. “You don’t like it?”

“No.” Nate shook his head. “I mean, yes. It’s great.” He met his brother’s narrowed gaze. “You did a great job.”

Jeremy laughed. “Now I know something’s wrong. You haven’t given me a compliment since my grand slam homerun in seventh grade.”

Nate scowled. “That can’t be right.”

Jeremy waggled his blond brows and nodded. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Jeremy powered off the laptop and snapped it shut. “I know you better than that.” He crossed his arms. “Fess up.”

Nate drew in a deep breath. “I’ve had a lot of time to think.” He reached to pluck the smallest photo from those behind his desk then handed it to Jeremy.

His brother’s smile grew wide. “The day you got your dirt bike. Dad was so proud.”

“They had their accident the next week.” Just saying the words made Nate’s stomach catch.

“And Aunt Martha sold our bikes before they were buried.”

“She did the right thing.” Nate nodded.

“No,” Jeremy shook his head, “she didn’t.”

“They died because they were on a motorcycle.” Nate stood and slowly paced the office, remembering his aunt’s many lectures on control and safety. “They were careless.”

“But, they were happy.” Jeremy leaned back in his seat. “It was their time. Call it fate, call it whatever you want.” He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Bunny.”

“Sounds like you could stand to spend a little more.”

Nate’s pulse quickened. “As if I could survive it.”

Several long beats of silence fell between them. Nate walked to the window and scrutinized the street below. “What if this is as good as it gets?”

“Wow,” Jeremy teased. “Deep thoughts by Nate McNulty.”

Nate spun to face his brother. “I’m serious.”

Jeremy stood and closed the gap between them. “It’s about time.”

Nate blinked.

“You’ve been a robot for a long time. It’s nice to see you coming back to life.” He rapped Nate’s chest with his finger. “Looks like someone’s flipped your switch back to on.”

“Bunny?” Denial shimmied through Nate. Jeremy wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t said to himself, but the idea was nuts. He and Bunny couldn’t be more opposite.

Jeremy smiled and nodded.

“What about Melanie?”

Jeremy moved back to the desk and picked up the laptop. “Couldn’t help but notice she’s not exactly Mary Poppins herself these days.”

“What about Aunt Martha and her grand plan?” Nate turned back to the window, as if somewhere out there everything would make sense. “What about her?”

“Live your life, not the one she’s planned for you.” Jeremy turned to leave. “See you tomorrow night. Call me if you need anything.”

He was halfway into the hall when Nate called out. “Hey, Jer?”

His brother stopped and looked back, a surprised grin etched across his face. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

“Thanks.”

o0o

Bunny made it to the revolving exit doors just as Kitty Worthington stepped out of a long, black sedan.

“Bunny, darling.” She waved her hand. “You’re just in time to take the girls.”

“Take the-” Bunny flinched as Chablis and Chardonnay emerged from the backseat, sporting matching purple collars and leashes. Rhinestones covered their tiny canine accessories and purple bows adorned each of their powder puff ears.

Kitty tucked the leash grips into Bunny’s hands.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re watching the girls.” Kitty frowned. “It’s standard Cup procedure. Surely you knew that.”

Bunny squinted at the gaudy leashes she held. “Why?”

“I’m off to the salon. With the cocktail party tomorrow night, I’ve got to look my best.”

Bunny paused then forced a weak smile. “What about Chablis and Chardonnay? Don’t they have to get ready, too?”

Kitty clucked her tongue. “No, no, no. The girls don’t show. They’re not a recognized AKC breed. Plus, they’ve just come from the groomer. Surely you can tell.” She eyed Bunny expectantly.

“Surely,” Bunny murmured. “You do realize I’ve got a lot of running around to do.”

“Oh, they love errands. Absolutely adore them.”

“But, Kitty, you can’t expect me to watch them with all I’ve got going on.”

Kitty’s expression grew serious and intense. “Armand always watched the girls for me while I went to the salon.”

Armand
. Bunny should have known. For all the worthless details he’d provided, he’d left this one out. The rat.

Bunny sucked in a deep breath. “How are they in cabs?”

Kitty’s eyes popped wide. “My girls can’t ride in a taxicab. You’ll have to make other arrangements.” She glanced back to the curb. “My driver’s waiting. I’ll see you later.”

“But-”

“I’ll call you.”