Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance) (3 page)

“Ms. Walker. Taking a break from the festivities?”

“Avoiding the ‘Chicken Dance.’”

He winced. “Really?”

“Yep. There will be some ‘Greased Lightning’ and the ‘Bus Stop’ before the night’s over, too.”

He swore under his breath and took another drag on his cigarette.

“You got another one of those?”

“Didn’t realize you smoked.”

“Only when I’m drunk.”

He gave her an assessing look. She wasn’t swaying on her feet or glassy-eyed, but her cheeks were a little flushed. She waved a hand dismissively.

“Relax. I’m not there yet,” she said.

“Hey, whatever gets you through the night.”

God knows, she’d get no judgment from him. He’d been guzzling champagne since they’d arrived at the boathouse, trying to anesthetize himself against the knowledge that his brother’s life was officially over.

He offered her a cigarette and lit it, breathing in her perfume. Spice and musk. Nice.

“So I hear you’re a fashion designer?” he said as she blew a stream of smoke into the darkness.

“Been asking about me, James?”

It took him a moment to remember their James Dean/Marlon Brando conversation from last night.

“My mother mentioned it. She seemed to think we might have a lot in common.”

Her eyebrows shot skyward and she looked as horrified by the notion that his mother had matchmaking on her mind as he had been.

“Yeah, I know. I laughed so hard I think I broke my funny bone,” he said.

“What is it with people always trying to pair everyone off in neat little couples? News flash—not everyone in the world wants to file two by two onto Noah’s Ark and live like the Brady Bunch for the rest of their lives. There’s a hell of a lot more to life than paying taxes and making babies.”

“Man, don’t get me started,” he said, thinking of the grief his father gave him every few months about giving up the band to do something “realistic” with his life. No matter how many times he explained that music
was
his life, it never seemed to get through.

“No offense, but I nearly choked on my own tongue when Jodie told me Jason had asked her to marry him. I mean, she’s only twenty-six. That is
young
to be getting married these days.”

“You think I didn’t freak when Jason told me he’d popped the question? Your sister is nice and everything, but come on.”

She held her hands in the air. “Hey, preaching to the converted here.”

He reached for the bottle of champagne he’d smuggled out with him and took a swig before passing it to her. He watched her pale throat as she tilted her head back and drank deeply.

“I’ve got to ask this, because it’s been bugging me. What is it, exactly, that people say about weddings?” he asked.

She handed him the bottle. “I don’t know. Why?”

He shook his head, confused. “You’re the one who said it.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah, last night. You said tomorrow is another day and you know what people say about weddings.”

She laughed, the sound loud and delighted. “That’s freakin’ hilarious.”

He watched her, unable to stop himself from smiling even though he had no idea what was so funny. “You want to let me in on the secret?”

“Sure. I have no idea what people say about weddings. I was trying to be mysterious. You were doing your whole brooding thing, and I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t a pushover.” She laughed again and this time he joined in.

“Well, mission accomplished. Congratulations.”

“Why, thank you, James.” She grabbed the bottle and took another swallow.

He took advantage of the opportunity to check her out again. The other bridesmaids looked okay in their dresses, but Vivian looked amazing. He especially liked the split in the side of the skirt that had tantalized him with glimpses of her thigh all day.

“I bet the other bridesmaids were pissed when they heard you’d be maid of honor,” he said admiringly.

“You don’t need to butter me up, James.”

“Don’t I?”

“Nope.” Her gaze held his, and he was pretty damn sure that he wasn’t imagining the invitation in hers.

Well, happy birthday, Mr. President.

“In that case, maybe it’s time for me to bring out the big guns.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out the joint he’d rolled earlier.

“I see you’ve really committed to the whole rock-and-roll lifestyle.”

“You got a problem with that?”

She gave him a slow, steady head-to-toe appraisal. “Not in the least.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment of thanks. Sometimes, out of nowhere, the universe delivered a perfect moment. He was going to grab this one with both hands and run with it.

* * *

V
IVIAN
WASN
’
T
SURE
if the limo was her idea or Seth’s. It was all a bit hazy in her mind after that first kiss on the balcony. One minute they’d been talking, then she’d been pressed up against the building with Seth’s body against hers and his tongue in her mouth.

And holy hell, could the man kiss.

He’d stormed her mouth and her body as though he owned her, and she’d been wet and desperate for him within seconds. The feel of him, hard and demanding against her belly, had her thinking of getting naked and horizontal pronto. Then he’d broken their kiss, taken her hand and led her to the stairs.

Now, he slipped the driver some money to take a walk. She shivered with anticipation as Seth opened the door and waved her inside.

“Madam.”

One word, but so loaded with promise she had to squeeze her thighs together to contain her excitement. She crawled onto the backseat, kneeling as he got in and closed the door.

“You’ll have to unzip me.” She offered him her back. It didn’t take three years of design school to know that precious little action would happen while she wore a figure-hugging, floor-length sheath.

“Totally on it,” Seth said, his hands on her zipper.

She felt the fabric loosen, and she wriggled until she’d pulled it off and draped it over the driver’s seat.

“Oh, man.” His gaze was avid as he stared at her cream-colored balconette bra and matching panties.

She loved the slightly dazed look in his eyes.

“Brace yourself, I’m climbing on board,” she said, slipping a leg over his body and straddling him.

“Permission to board granted. And anything else that strikes your fancy,” he said. “And speaking of fancy...”

She bit back a moan as his hands slid onto her satin-covered ass, curving his hands to the shape of her body as he pulled her close. They kissed, his hands massaging as she ground against his erection. He smoothed one hand up to the clasp of her bra, and seconds later she felt it slacken around her rib cage.

“You’ve done
that
before,” she murmured as she slipped the straps down her arms.

“I was a Cub Scout.” He swore under his breath as her bra fell from her breasts. “Vivian, seriously. Could you be any freakin’ hotter?”

She didn’t get a chance to respond because he leaned forward and pulled one of her nipples into his mouth and she was lost.

Utterly gone.

Never had a man’s mouth on her breasts felt so good. Hot and wet, his teeth and tongue teasing her. She gripped handfuls of his hair and held him in place, riding the waves of desire sweeping through her. Then he slid a hand onto her belly and beneath her panties and took her to a whole new level.

The feel of his clever fingers between her thighs was crazy-making, the pressure both too much and not enough. She started to pant, and when he slid a finger inside her she gave a low, guttural moan.

“These have to go,” he said, and she heard a rip as he tore her panties off.

A part of her wanted to laugh at how mad and desperate it all was—the cramped quarters, him tearing her clothes off, their harsh breathing. But then he found her with his thumb at the exact moment that he bit her nipple and she was too busy coming, her head dropping forward as she clutched at his shoulders, needing an anchor to keep her earthbound.

Moments later she opened her eyes to find him watching her with a huge grin on his face.

“Like a handheld flare,” he said.

“Sorry?”

He reached for the buckle on his trousers. “I’ll explain later.”

She stared as he slipped himself free from his pants. Wow. This was going to be
good.

“Want to do the honors?” He held up a condom.

She smiled, relieved that they weren’t going to have to have
that
battle. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She pulled the latex from the foil, slipped it over the head of his very hard erection and smoothed it on. The moment she rolled it home, she took him in hand and guided him to her entrance. Holding his eye, she slid onto him in one slippery, wet rush.

His breath sighed out on a wordless exclamation, and when she started to move, his hands tightened on her hips. He felt so good inside her, so thick. Desire tightened inside her again, stoked higher by every stroke of his body. He drew her closer, tonguing her nipples. She tilted her hips and ground herself against him, one hand on his shoulder for balance.

For long moments there was only the sound of their breathing and their bodies coming together. He reached between them, finding her with his thumb again, and she keened desperately, so, so close to coming a second time.

Her movements became urgent, fervent, as she raced toward oblivion. This time he went with her, his hips surging off the seat, his hands dragging her down as he buried himself, his body shuddering. Her body tightened around his as she climaxed, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she kissed him deeply.

She lay limp as a rag doll on his shoulder for what felt like a long time afterward, trying to muster the energy to move. So many things to do—get rid of the condom, get dressed, check her makeup, go back to the reception—but she was so boneless with sated pleasure she could barely blink.

“How you doing there?” he said, his voice a rumble near her ear.

She pushed herself off his chest, letting out a gentle sigh. “I’m pretty good. How about you?”

“Fair to middling.”

They began to laugh, then a car started nearby and they both ducked instinctively.

“Shit. What time is it? People must be leaving already,” Vivian said.

She slid away from him, leaving him to do whatever it was men did with the condom, and reached for her bra. He made himself decent and buckled up, then helped her wriggle into her dress. It was impossible to pull the narrow skirt over her legs while kneeling, so she cracked the door slightly, did a quick scan, then got out. Standing in the V of the open door, she smoothed the skirt down.

“Decent?” she asked.

“Hardly.”

“I meant the dress, funny guy.” She rolled her eyes. Leaning past him, she scooped her panties from the limo floor. No way was she making the rookie’s mistake of leaving those little puppies behind.

“You look fine.”

He got out of the car and she gave him a once-over. It was hard to see much in the dim lighting, but apart from being a little rumpled, he looked fine, too. Which meant they were clear to head into the reception.

She glanced toward the boathouse, not sure how to say what needed to be said.

“Listen, Seth...I had a great time. But just so you know, I’m not really looking for anything. I’ve got a lot going on with my studies, I’ve got a graduate show to prepare for...” She trailed off awkwardly.

He was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “So, what, this was just one night of the best limo-monkey-sex ever, no strings attached?”

She couldn’t tell if he was pissed or not. He didn’t sound pissed, but there was something about the way he was holding himself that made her a little nervous.

“That’s another way of putting it.”

He grinned hugely, his posture and expression relaxing. “I knew you were my kind of girl when I met you, Vivian Walker.”

She punched him on the arm, aware that he’d played her. “Thanks for freaking me out, James.”

“My pleasure.” He tugged her ruined panties from her hand. “I’m keeping these, too, by the way.” He slid them into his pocket.

“Adding them to your collection, are you?”

“I’m going to frame them and hang them above my bed.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, you are so full of it.”

But so charming and sexy, too. And, God, was he good in bed. Or, if they wanted to be strictly accurate, in car.

He pulled the cigarettes from his pocket and offered her one. She shook her head, and he lit up.

“We probably shouldn’t go back in together,” she pointed out.

“You want to go first or will I?”

“You go,” she said.

He considered her for a moment, then reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “See you ’round, Vivian.”

“Back at ya.”

He started walking toward the boathouse, trailing smoke. She watched him, a frown forming as the repercussions of what they’d done finally made their way through her hazy, champagne-muddled brain.

Her sister was married to his brother. She and Seth would see each other at family functions for the next forever. Probably getting naked with him at the first opportunity hadn’t been the best way to kick off their relationship.

Then she remembered his kiss, and the feel of his hands in her panties, and the hard, thick slide of him inside her, and she waved a hand in the air, shooing her concerns away like an annoying fly.

What had happened between her and Seth had been inevitable from the moment they’d laid eyes on each other. They’d simply gotten it out of the way sooner rather than later.

Which was a good thing.

Smoothing her hands over her hips, she took a deep breath and went to rejoin the party.

CHAPTER TWO

Ten years later

“W
E
READY
TO
go people?”

The assistant’s voice rang out over the chatter in the studio, causing a flurry of activity. Lights were tweaked, reflectors placed at the ready. Robin changed lenses on his camera, his dark head bent, his focus on the task absolute.

Vivian shook her head in admiration. He was so damn good at what he did; taking him up on his offer to become business partners was one of the best decisions she’d ever made.

The model she was dressing shifted her weight and Vivian turned to her own task, concentrating on knotting the scarf around the pretty blonde’s neck in a jaunty and sexy bow.

When she was finished she stood back, eyes narrowed as she studied the effect. The model raised her eyebrows, waiting. Vivian nodded.

“You are good to go, sweetie,” she said, patting her on the shoulder.

The girl beamed—and she
was
a girl, barely sixteen—and took her place on the purple velvet chaise that was the centerpiece of the photo. Vivian sighed. Were the models getting younger or was she getting older?

Probably a bit of both.

This was the last shot before lunch, but she went to the clothes rack to check that the next couple of outfits were ready to go anyway.

“Viv.”

She glanced over her shoulder, smiling when she caught sight of Jodie standing inside the doorway of the huge studio space.

“Hey. You found us!” she said, waving for her sister to come in.

Jodie glanced around anxiously, clearly worried about getting in the way. It probably looked chaotic to an outsider, but the organized mayhem was second nature to Vivian after five years working as a professional stylist. Taking pity on Jodie, she met her halfway, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she said. “Thanks for coming all the way into the city to see me.”

Even though Vivian had been in Melbourne for over two months now, she hadn’t caught up with her sister nearly enough to make up for the ten years Vivian had spent in the U.S.—something Vivian intended to change now that she was home for good. Hence today’s lunch date.

“It was no big deal. This place is pretty amazing.”

Vivian looked around, trying to see her new workplace through her sister’s eyes. Once a factory, the building had been converted into studios and offices in the seventies. She and Robin had managed to snag the penthouse studio, a cavernous space with age-stained floorboards, rough brick walls that had been painted white and a vast wall of metal-framed windows that flooded the room with natural light, which was one of the many reasons she and Robin had gone gaga over it when they’d found it five weeks ago.

“It’s working out really well.”

Robin had been a friend and occasional work collaborator in L.A., but she’d still had her doubts when he proposed they join forces when he heard she, too, was planning to head home to Australia. All reservations had been blown away the first time they’d sat down to truly hammer out the details of their partnership, however, and from that day she’d been pinching herself that she’d gotten so lucky.

“So you’re settled, then?” Jodie asked.

There was an odd intensity to her gaze as she waited for Vivian’s answer.

“I’m well and truly, officially home,” Vivian said. “No way could I face another transPacific move. Besides, I missed you guys too much.”

Jodie’s two boys, Sam and Max, were nearly four and five, her mum and dad were getting older... It had been time to return, and Vivian didn’t regret it for a second, even if she
did
miss some aspects of her life in L.A. Her friends, the opportunities. Her very cool apartment in Los Feliz.

“Good. Because I like being able to do this instead of making do with Skype,” Jodie said.

Vivian checked her watch. “You hungry yet? Robin doesn’t need me until after lunch, so we can raid the buffet and go sit on the roof if you like?”

“That sounds suitably inner-city groovy and exciting for a mum of two from Balwyn.” Jodie rubbed her hands together in comic anticipation.

“I might have a couple of scarves and handbags to throw your way, too,” Vivian stage-whispered as they headed for a trestle table laden with food.

“Oh, goodie.”

Vivian had been keeping her sister supplied with a steady stream of fashion and accessories for years. When she was in L.A., Vivian had packed up her finds every month and shipped them to Australia, causing Jodie to joke she was “dressed by Vivian.”

“My God. How are you not the size of a house?” Jodie asked as she considered the array of food.

Sandwiches, subs, doughnuts, cake, lasagna warming in a bain-marie, three different types of salads. Vivian handed her sister a plate.

“I don’t eat dinner most of the time. And usually this sucker has been gutted by the time I get here and I get a sandwich with someone else’s fingerprints on it, and the slushy salad from the bottom of the bowl.”

“Ew. Even I would lose weight in that case.” Jodie patted her well-padded hips self-consciously.

“Jodie, if I ever have children, I will pray to the gods that I look half as good as you do,” Vivian said. “Now, dig in before these vultures break for lunch.”

They both loaded up their plates, then Vivian led her sister upstairs to the rooftop, an inhospitable concrete expanse she and Robin were attempting to humanize with a few deck chairs and potted plants.

They grabbed a chair each and chatted easily while eating—Jodie catching up Vivian on Max and Sam’s latest exploits, Vivian filling in her sister on the challenges of launching a fashion styling and photography business.

“So who is the shoot for today, then?” Jodie asked as she finished the last of her carrot cake.

“Fairbank and Rose,” Vivian said, naming one of Australia’s most prominent and exclusive department store chains.

Jodie’s eyes widened. “Is that an ongoing thing?”

“It’s an audition. We’ve got a proposal in with them, and this catalogue shoot is the first stage. I guess you could say we’re dating, but no one is ready to commit yet.”

“They’ll be down on one knee, begging you to marry them in a matter of days,” Jodie predicted.

“I should record that and play it back while I sleep,” Vivian joked. “On to more important matters. What would Sam love for his birthday?”

Her youngest nephew was turning four on the weekend, and Vivian wanted to get him something memorable and fun.

“Anything that references monkeys in any way will go over a treat,” Jodie said. “Also, anything related to pirates. If you can find a pirate monkey, you’ll have hit pay dirt.”

“Pirates and monkeys. That should be enough to get me started.”

Jodie set her plate on the ground and dusted off her skirt. She’d given up her work as an accountant when Max was born, and usually she spent the day in jeans and sweaters, but today she’d clearly gone to a bit of trouble, pairing a short-sleeved cashmere turtleneck with an Asian-print skirt Vivian had sent her.

“I wanted to ask you something important, Viv.”

She looked so serious that sudden dread clutched at Vivian’s stomach. “Okay. Should I be sitting down for this?”

“You’re already sitting down.”

“Good point. Then do I need a box of tissues?”

Jodie smiled. “I really hope not.”

Then Vivian twigged. “Oh, my God, you’re pregnant again!”

Another niece or nephew.
Fantastic.
And this time she would be here to share the whole experience. She leaned forward to hug her sister but Jodie fended her off with a laugh.

“Will you calm down and let me get a word in sideways? I’m not pregnant. But you’re kind of on the right track. Jason and I have been talking lately, and we realized that now that we have Max and Sam we need to stop living like kids and plan for the future.”

Vivian blinked. She couldn’t think of a single couple who were more grounded, sensible and grown-up than Jodie and Jason. They were both accountants, for Pete’s sake, they managed their finances down to the cent, they had two children, a mortgage, a dog and a family wagon. How much more adult could a person get?

“Sweetie, if you and Jason consider yourselves kids, then I am officially an embryo. No, less than that, I’m the hopeful, horny glint in someone’s eye.”

“It might look like that from the outside, but we don’t have life or disability insurance.... And we haven’t thought about who we’d like to look after the boys if something happened to us.”

Vivian stared at her sister, wondering if she was misinterpreting the hopeful expression on Jodie’s face. Surely she wasn’t asking if Vivian would be willing to step in if Max and Sam needed her to...?

“Jason and I had a big talk about it, and as much as we both love our parents, we think the boys would be better off with someone younger. Dad’s slowing down a lot now, and Jason’s mum adores the kids, but she has a bit of a short fuse when they’re being rowdy. So we wondered how you would feel about being named as guardian to Max and Sam. In case anything, you know, happened.”

Wow. Just...
wow.

Vivian blinked away the hot rush of tears. She couldn’t believe this. That her sister—and Jason—trusted her so much. Sure, she knew she’d done a lot to rehabilitate her reputation as the crazy, flighty sister over the years, but for Jodie to trust her with her beloved children...

“Are those happy tears or oh-my-God-get-me-out-of-here-I’m-so-freaked-out tears?” Jodie asked.

“These are happy tears. And the answer is yes. Times a bazillion. I would crawl over broken glass for those boys, and I would be honored to be their guardian,” Vivian said earnestly.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

She was having trouble choking back a wellspring of emotion. “Jodie...I want you to know this means a lot to me. I will
not
let you down. I will do whatever it takes to make sure Sam and Max are happy and healthy, that they never want for anything.”

“
Should
anything happen to me and Jason,” Jodie amended with a twinkle in her eye.

“Right. Of course,” Vivian added hastily.
“Of course.”

Jodie laughed outright. “Wait till I tell Jason you were ready to drive over and pick the kids up straight away.”

Vivian smiled sheepishly. “An enthusiastic guardian is a good guardian, right?”

“Absolutely. I hope Seth is as happy as you are. I’ll feel so much better having this all settled.”

Vivian frowned. “Seth?”

“Sorry, I should probably explain that, shouldn’t I? We want the two of you to be there for the boys. A male and female influence.”

“Right. Good plan,” Vivian said, even though she was privately boggled at her sister’s choice. Being based overseas, she’d seen Seth only a handful of times in the past ten years, but the family grapevine had kept her up-to-date on the headlines in his life. She knew, for example, that he’d given up on the band seven years ago and had been bumming around in various jobs in the nightclub and bar scene ever since. She knew that he was still a total pants man, showing up with a new girlfriend every six months, without fail. She also knew from the few times they’d been in the same room that he was still charming and cocky and sexy—but none of those characteristics were what she would have chosen for the man who would be guardian to her children.

But they weren’t her children, they were Jodie and Jason’s, and even though it almost killed her to bite her tongue, Vivian did. If they thought he would make a good role model and parental stand-in, then she would bow to their superior judgment. After all, they knew him much better than she did.

“How did he, um, react?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet. Jason’s seeing him tonight after work. He loves the kids, though, so I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. Which is probably just as well, since he’s going to be a father himself, soon.”

Vivian nearly fell off her chair. “What?”

When did this happen? And how come she hadn’t heard about it earlier? Surely if Seth had settled down with one woman long enough to get her pregnant, her sister would have considered it gossip-worthy?

A strange feeling gripped her. A little like vertigo, but not. In her secret heart of hearts, she’d kept a casual eye on Seth, ensuring she knew enough, but not too much about his life. Not because she was interested in him romantically, God forbid, but because he was the male approximation of her on Jason’s side of the family—the younger sibling, a bit of a screwup, never one to color within the lines. In a strange way, he’d become the benchmark for her own success—or not—over the years. As long as he was still single, it was okay that things hadn’t worked out with Franco and she was alone again. As long as Seth was still floating around, trying to find “his” thing, it was okay for her to be doing the same—although that hadn’t been an issue for her for a while now.

But now he was in a relationship, having a kid...? Suddenly she felt left behind. She’d been so sure she’d be the first one to settle down and start a family.

“We found out about it just last week. Personally, I think it’s because he worked out that if he’s going to be hitting me up for babysitting duties, he should probably let me know there’s a niece or nephew on the way.”

Vivian chose her words carefully. “So, have you met his girlfriend?”

“Oh, she’s not his girlfriend. This is Seth, remember? I think they were friends with benefits for a while and she got pregnant, yada, yada.”

“How’s he coping with that?” She honestly couldn’t imagine Seth getting up to do a late-night feed or changing a diaper.

“You know, pretty well.” Jodie nodded thoughtfully. “As Jason said, he’s manning up. He’s been to Lola’s doctors’ appointments and he’s doing all he can to make sure she’s got what she needs.”

“Well. Good for him.” Although, really, it was the bare minimum that should be expected of a man who had gone halves in a baby. Even accidentally. Mind, there were plenty of baby daddies who ran for the hills, so Vivian figured Seth deserved a couple of elephant stamps for effort.

“So, have you met Lola?” She was starting to feel like Mrs. Crab Apple, the gossipy neighbor, but she couldn’t deny her curiosity.