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Four
Nick pulled
his beastly, white Suburban into an extravagant residential area. And Chelsea
neared a state of panic. The short denim skirt, plain white tank top, and
white canvas tennis shoes she wore were obviously not appropriate.
Habitually, the nail of her index finger pushed at her well-cared for
cuticles. "Boy, I, uh, hope I'm dressed okay."
"Darlin',
you're dressed perfectly. Trust me."
Her anxiety
level jumped three floors. He'd changed into bright orange shorts and a
purple T-shirt, but still wore the red shoes. What in the world did he know
about dressing?
Chelsea scolded
herself. Nick seemed like a genuinely nice guy who didn't deserve such
harsh criticism.
After carrying
up the contents of her back seat, he'd stayed while she disinfected
cabinets and drawers and stored her precious few belongings. They drank
beer and he told her comical stories of his recent travels. He had a sharp
sense of humor and tended to physically demonstrate things he spoke of.
She'd enjoyed his company, and laughed hard enough to cry more than once.
Nick parked
behind a long line of flashy sport cars and costly SUV's. "Well, I
guess we walk from here.Ó
She didn't
give him the opportunity to help her out of the truck because she didn't
want him to think they were on an actual date. She certainly wasn't
interested in an involvement beyond friendship.
In a
comfortable silence, they walked past four incredible homes set on
awe-inspiring lots.
"This is
it!" He sent her his charmingly slanted smile.
She knew he
was excited about this party because he'd been out of the state, even out
of the country, for almost six months performing on-sight inspections for
the oil company that employed him. Now, he was anxious to see old friends
and familiar faces.
When they
neared the meticulously manicured lawn, top forty music drifted over the
warm evening. People milled everywhere; in the long driveway, by the double
front doors, and along the wrought iron fence that separated the front yard
from the back.
Lifting her
chin in hopes of finding some confidence, she followed him through the gate
and into the back yard, where even more people gathered.
Wow. Her first
social engagement in nearly two years was a doozy. Long tables piled high
with finger foods filled the middle of the yard. A row of blue, portable
toilets lined the far side of the fence. A bar, complete with bartenders in
sleeveless tuxedos, graced the rear fence.
It was to the
bar they went.
"No,"
Chelsea said, raising her voice over the noise of the crowd and the
vibrating music. "This really isn't a very big deal."
He tipped his
head back for a loud laugh. "Not to the rich and famous!"
She remembered
her appearance and quickly inspected some of the other women there. She saw
everything from denim shorts to flirty summer dresses.
"I told
you, darlin', you're dressed perfectly."
She turned
back to Nick and took the beer he offered. "Thanks. So, who owns this
house? Who's party is this?"
Nick steered
her away from the bar with a gentle hand on her arm. "You ever hear of
Susan Johnston?"
Her eyes
widened. "The model? Wow. How do you know her?"
"I don't
actually. A friend of mine is, uh, kinda dating her." He scanned the
back yard, then pointed at the rear of the house. "There. That's the
guy I'm looking for." He headed that direction.
Chelsea
scoured the partygoers anxiously, wondering if she'd see anyone rich and
famous. She was actually having fun. Actually glad she'd come. Because she
had her head turned, she didn't know Nick stopped, until she bumped into
him.
"Chelsea
McGovern, meet one of my two best friends, Kevin Slader. Kevin, this is
Chelsea."
She
swung her head around and made a weird little gasp noise because the man in
front of Nick was the most physically striking man she'd ever seen.
He was tall,
compared to her five foot, two inch frame, anyway. Probably just over six
feet. Broad shoulders, long legs. Black hair that looked like he let it dry
however it wanted to and only used his fingers to comb it, dark sunglasses.
His nose was on the long side, his lips just full enough to be sensuous. He
wore cargo shorts and a plain, white T-shirt. Hard muscles contoured his
upper arms, while corded strength and dark hair decorated his forearms.
As far as she
could tell, Kevin Slader was physically perfect.
He pulled his
hands from the pockets of his tan shorts.
Chelsea scrambled
to gather enough composure to form the verbal greeting she would need to
deliver in a few seconds. She barely stifled another gasp when she realized
that, for the first time in a very, very long time, she was physically
attracted to someone.
With his
habitual casualness, Kevin leaned against the glass topped table on the
patio and surveyed the partygoers. "There he is." He nudged his
older brother with his elbow.
Ryan followed
the direction of Kevin's nod. "Now, wait a damn minute! I talked to him
earlier and he said he was coming solo. You know who he corralled?"
"No, I'm
sure I'd remember if I'd seen her before."
"Yeah, no
kidding. If she looks as good comin' as she does goin', Nick's one lucky
dog."
Kevin,
watching the feminine swing of the short denim skirt beside Nick, agreed.
They made an odd couple. He guessed she wasn't over five foot, three. Next
to Nick's six foot-two inch frame, she could have passed for a young girl
walking with her father, except for the natural swing of her hips. That was
something only women possessed.
At the bar,
Nick's companion turned toward the house.
Kevin's
eyebrows arched in accordance with his male appreciation.
"Nick's a
lucky dog all right. Well, I'm after food. Want anything?"
He shook his
head, his gaze still on the mystery woman. "I'm good, thanks."
Across the
expanse of the yard, at the bar, Nick handed his new friend a beer. She
smiled up at him. Her hair was pulled back from her face and fell in a
thick mass of waves to her narrow shoulders. The slanting evening sun
danced across it. Glowed within it.
Kevin plucked
his sunglasses from the table, slid them on, then pulled a long drink from
his beer as Nick and the woman moved toward him. He shoved his hands into
his pockets and wondered why his palms were damp. He couldn't remember the
last time he'd been even a little nervous, let alone so damn unsettled his
hands had actually sweat.
Nick stopped
in front of him, a huge grin controlling his always friendly face.
"Chelsea McGovern, meet one of my two best friends, Kevin Slader.
Kevin, this is Chelsea."
She swung
toward him, then made a funny little sound.
Feeling
out of sorts and awkward, Kevin freed his hands and stood up from his
relaxed position. He wiped a damp palm down the leg of his shorts, hoping
it wasn't too obvious an action, then extended his hand. He felt oddly
compelled to look behind her sleek, dark sunglasses and discover what color
her eyes were. "How you doin', Chelsea?"
She put her
hand in his.
Her slim
fingers were free of jewelry, her nails long, bare, and pretty.
"Nice to
meet you, Kevin."
Her soft voice
suited her smallness and unusual delicateness. "Yeah, it's, uh, nice
to meet you, too." He pulled a canvas chair away from the table and
gestured at it with a still sweaty hand. Damn it! What the hell was wrong
with him?
She smiled up
at him as she sat down. "Thank you."
She had
flat-out sexy lips--kissable lips--and stunningly white teeth. Kevin wiped
at the perspiration on his forehead, apparently caused by the beauty of her
smile. Tearing his gaze away from her, he grinned at Nick. "Damn, it's
good to see you, pal!"
Nick laughed
heartily and embraced him the same way. "I never thought I'd get back
home, man. Never!"
"Why
haven't you seen one of your two best friends since you got back?"
"He got
in late two nights ago." Kevin pulled another chair away from the
table and slid it across the smooth concrete to Nick. "Then he slept
for damn near thirty-six hours, the bum."
Negligently, Nick
dropped into the chair beside Chelsea and shot her a wink. "I was
tired. Jet lag, you know?" He grinned at Kevin and jerked his thumb in
her direction. "She woke me up, moving into the apartment next to
mine, going up and down and up and down the stairs."
"You let
her?" Kevin was amazed Nick hadn't helped a woman; especially one who
looked like Chelsea McGovern. "Why didn't you help?"
"I did!
After I figured out what was going on."
"He
wouldn't let me move anything else," she confirmed with a nod.
"And did the rest by himself."
"You
should have called me." Hell-shit! He wished he'd been afforded the
opportunity to assist the pretty Ms. McGovern, and run interference on the
charm that oozed from Nick in the presence of all females. "I would
have helped, too."
Nick shrugged.
"It was just a few boxes, no big deal." He scowled at Chelsea.
"When are the rest of your things going to get here?"
"Oh,
well." Chelsea looked around, shifted in her chair a little.
"That's all there is. You moved everything in today."
"No way!
You don't have dishes, towels, bedding."
Kevin wondered
why the hell Nick didn't notice how uncomfortable Chelsea was. Wanting to
save her from more discomfort, he stepped in. "You look through her
things?"
"What?"
Nick laughed. "No. But, like I said, it was just a few boxes. I hung
around while she unpacked." He turned back to Chelsea. "What's
the deal?"
"Well,
uh, I didn't really want to have to drive a trailer all the way out here. I
was given a certain amount of money to relocate and I decided to buy new
things when I got here." She shrugged one tiny shoulder.
Ryan's return
couldn't have come at a better time. Kevin caught his eye, then jerked his
head at Nick. "Look what the stray cat drug out of the swamp and
brought us."
Nick jumped to
his feet, then jumped on Ryan and gave him a hard hug.
"Damn,
man, it's good to see what there is of you!"
"I'm glad
to see you, too, even though you're still a half-pint smart-ass!"
Laughing, Nick fell back into his chair. "Chelsea, this is my other
best friend, Ryan Slader. He's also Kevin's older, yet obviously not
bigger, brother."
Ryan's pressed
shorts and crisp plaid shirt draped him with authority. However, the smile
he gave Chelsea was his warmest. "It's a pleasure," he said as he
shook her hand. "But, I have to ask what you're doing with this
guy." He jerked his head at Nick. "He's a bum."
Chelsea
laughed.
Her laughter
caused Kevin to smile.
"Sit
down, Ryan. And use your mouth to eat, instead of talk." Nick winked
at Chelsea. "It's not true--that I'm a bum, I mean."
She laughed
again.
Kevin decided
her eyes were blue. Or maybe a light green.
Brown. Kevin
Slader's eyes were probably a dark, chocolate brown.
Chelsea
concentrated on the bottle of beer she held and worried about the way she
had to force herself to look away from Kevin. She hoped Nick hadn't noticed
her fascination with his best friend. The idea that Kevin might have
noticed how often she looked at him caused her breath to stall in a mound
of anxiety centered in her chest.
The excitement
and turmoil boiling within her made her realize she wasn't ready to be
attracted to someone. Not at all ready.
"So,
Chelsea, what do you do?"
She focused on
Ryan, who looked nothing like his brother. While Kevin was tall, Ryan was
closer to her height, and bony. Kevin had dark hair and eyes she assumed
were also dark. Ryan had reddish-blond hair and bright blue eyes. His
eyebrows were too thick for his narrow face, but he was still attractive.
He was also personable enough that she already liked him.
"Tuesday
I start with Lancaster and Jacobson. I'm heading-up a new program."
She laughed softly, embarrassed by the confession she was about to make.
"Although that may sound impressive, there's only one person involved
in this program--including me."
"Still,
it's an excellent opportunity." Nick's mouth split into his crooked,
happy smile. "Tell them about it, darlin'."
She sent a
doubtful glance at Ryan, then Kevin. Both men looked genuinely interested
to hear her story. And she realized they shared the same mouth, genetically
speaking.
She crossed
her legs, left over right, in order to hide the one scar her clothes and
hair didn't cover. "Well, I'm going to install and customize computer
software so L and J's clients can download their accounting information directly
to the appropriate regional accounting office. It will save mailing time,
eliminate the possibility of sending incomplete information, and all the
data the firm gets will be in the same format, which will streamline the
accounting process. I'll also be responsible for training the client's
staff on how to use the software."
Kevin pushed
his long fingers through his hair. "So, you'll travel from office to
office?"
His deep voice
warmed her blood. That sensation made her wonder what was wrong with him. Based
on her experiences, she wouldn't be attracted to him unless he had a whole
series of deep emotional problems.
"Uh,
right," she said in answer. "L and J have clients from here to
New York. Next month, I'm going to Indianapolis, then Seattle. I'll work
here, at the home office, for the first month in order to get acquainted
with their procedures and systems."
She stood up,
compelled to escape Kevin's powerful presence. To her delight, all three
men stood up, too--which she found endearingly old-fashioned. "Can I
bring anyone something from the bar?" Three hands shot into the air
and made her laugh.
"Do you
mind?" Nick asked.
"Not even
a little bit." Chelsea walked away, carrying the attention of six
decidedly male eyes with her.
Nick settled
into his chair, crossed his thin arms over his narrow chest, and looked
back and forth between his friends. "What do ya' think?"
"She's a
doll, but I still don't understand why the hell she's with you."
"Obviously,
she has exquisite taste!" Nick considered Kevin for a moment, then
grinned again. "Kevy, what do you think of my new friend?"
He lifted one
shoulder. "I agree with Ryan." Involuntarily, he sought Chelsea
out as she crossed the lawn. Damn, he liked her skirt. And its swing. He
forced himself to concentrate on Nick. "The bigger question is; what
do you think of her?"
"She's
beautiful, intelligent, fun as hell to talk to. And, she lives right next
door. How convenient is that?" He laughed, then leaned forward and
planted knobby elbows on equally knobby knees. "So, where, and exactly
how, is Susan? I need some details about this relationship, man. You're
dating the latest fantasy of at least half the male population. You've out
done yourself this time, son. I'm dying for some insight."
Kevin scanned
the surrounding area. "I haven't seen her for awhile." His
attention landed on Chelsea again. While standing in line at one of the
restrooms, she'd gained the attention of a stocky man in the line next to
her. Scowling, he dangled his empty bottle of beer between his widespread
knees. Halfheartedly, he listened to Ryan and Nick's lively conversation
about his involvement with Susan as he watched Chelsea and the man who was
so obviously interested in her.
Nick let out a
soft whistle. "I'll be damned. There's Susan. Kevin, my friend, you're
a lucky, lucky man. She's a real life Goddess. And filthy with money, too.
You got it made, pal."
He grunted an
acknowledgment as Chelsea disappeared behind one of the plastic, blue
doors.
"I'm
dying to meet her." Nick sprung to his feet. "Introduce me,
Kevy."
"I'll do
it," Ryan said. "I want to meet the little brunette she's talking
to."
"Little?"
Nick laughed. "Hell, that little brunette's a whole head taller than
you, stumpy."
"At least
I'm not so damn skinny I don't even cast a shadow!" Ryan snapped,
walking toward Susan and the attractive woman beside her.
Kevin chuckled
at their friendly banter, which had raged steadily for nearly twenty years.
Then, he
concentrated on the spot he'd last seen Chelsea.
She reappeared
a few moments later. The stocky man who'd eyed her before, and had been
waiting on her, fell into step beside her as she headed for the bar.
Reflexively,
Kevin crossed the lawn. He didn't know what he was going to do, but felt
certain he should run some kind of interference.
He stopped
beside Chelsea in line at the bar. She looked up at him. Her beautiful
mouth formed a little circle of surprise, which not only caught his
attention, but ignited his sexual imagination, too. "How you
doin'?"
"Hey!"
Calmly, Kevin
turned to the shorter, more muscular man who had stood beside Chelsea until
he stepped between them. "What?"
"I was
talking to that little gal and now you're in my way."
"Sorry,
pal, but the lady isn't available."
"Why
didn't she tell me that? I mean, if she didn't want to talk to me, she'd
have told me to get lost. But she's been very agreeable." He took a
step closer as his hands curled into huge fists that bulged with obvious,
brute strength. "She's been so agreeable, in fact, that I want you to
get the hell out of my way. Now."
"She's
just being polite." Kevin ignored the aggressiveness in the man's
voice--the tone intended to call him out to fight. Fighting was something
he avoided if at all possible. Probably because he wasn't very good at it,
he didn't like fighting. At all. "She didn't want to hurt your
feelings."
The shorter
man hesitated, then scowled at him. "Your girlfriend?"
"No,
she's here with a friend of mine."
"That
true?" He leaned to the side to look around Kevin, at Chelsea.
She nodded.
"Sorry."
"Not half
as sorry as l am." He nodded at Kevin. "I had to try."
"Sure."
Kevin watched the other man saunter away before looking at Chelsea.
Automatically, he grinned. "How you doin' now?"
"Better!
Thank you for the intervention, although I could have handled him
myself."
"I'm sure
you could have." He had no doubt she'd done more than a fair amount of
dealing with men whose interest in her was not reciprocated.
"But you
came to my rescue anyway." She giggled. "How gallant."
Kevin chuckled
and thought she was charming.
"Why did
you come to my rescue?"
Now, that was
a damn good question. He could have pointed the situation out to Nick and
let him handle it. But for some reason, he hadn't. Chelsea smiled up at
him, looking sweeter than anyone he'd ever seen. He slid his hands into the
safety of his pockets so he'd remember to keep them off her. "Maybe I
was coming to see what was keeping you with the beer."
She laughed.
"Then
again, maybe I just didn't like the looks of that guy."
"Well,
whatever the reason, thank you. I'm relieved I didn't have to handle him
because it might have turned into an embarrassing situation."
He arched one
eyebrow. "Would you have become disagreeable?"
"Yes, I
think it might have actually come to that."
"I can't
even image you and disagreeable at the same party."
She beamed at
him, then moved forward with the line.
Again, Kevin
noticed, and appreciated, how pretty her teeth were. He also wondered about
the taste of her lips. "So, where are you from?"
"What makes
you think I'm not from around here?"
"Your
accent, mostly."
"I didn't
realize I had an accent until Nick mentioned it. He said it isn't bad, but
I don't want to talk differently than everyone else."
"For
once, Nick's right--it's certainly not a bad accent."
With a scowl
causing a shallow dimple over the middle of her sunglasses, she scanned the
line of people beside them. "Uh, I'm from Des Moines."
"I
see." The way she bristled and turned her attention away from him made
it obvious that implying he liked her accent had disturbed her. Was she
offended because he was flirting with her while she was on a date?
Probably. And, even though she was on a date, with his best friend, he was
flirting with her. Harshly, he told himself to stop flirting--something he
seemed to do naturally, maybe even compulsively. "So, you just moved
here? I mean to LA?"
"Yes."
She faced him again. "You said it was my accent mostly. What else made
you think I'm not from here?"
"You
don't seem like the average LA girl. Which," he added quickly, and
despite his intention not to flirt with her, "Isn't a bad thing
either."
Someone ahead
of them stumbled and crashed into Chelsea's back. The collision propelled
her into Kevin. His arms locked around her in an instinctive attempt to
keep her from falling to the ground.
Her dainty
hands landed on his chest. And stayed. Slowly, she tilted her face up to
his.
As he looked
down at her, he was extremely aware of the slender length of her neck and
the way her lips parted as if inviting him to kiss her.
"Uh,
excuse me."
"You
okay?"
She
stepped away from him and scowled at the ground between her feet.
"Fine. Sorry about that."
"Don't
be." Kevin looked over her head to see who had bumped into her and
discovered a cluster of young, rowdy men in front of them. "We better
move out of the way." As if it were a completely natural thing for him
to do, he wrapped his hand around her elbow and drew her to another line of
people waiting for drinks. He grinned down at her, hoping to ease the hum
of tension their physical contact had created. "You seem to have a
knack for getting into trouble."
Chelsea
hesitated, then laughed.
The musical
sound of her laughter told Kevin that he was in serious damn trouble.
"Well!"
Nick's tone of voice was stern, although humor sparkled in his eyes.
"Where in the blue blazes have you two been for so long?" With a
wink, he took the beer Chelsea offered him. "Thanks, darlin'."
Kevin sat down
as he handed a bottle of beer to Ryan. "You better keep an eye on her,
Nick. She seems to attract trouble."
Nick glanced
at Chelsea, his eyes narrowed with question, then concentrated on Kevin.
"Tell me." Absently, he ran the tip of his index finger up and
down the dimple in his chin.
"I saved
you from having to fight some guy with a twenty-three inch neck over her,
then she nearly got trampled at the bar."
Nick swung
toward her. "Big-neck was trying to pick you up?"
She
shook her head, very aware of the fact that Kevin watched her with an amused,
sexy little grin decorating his pretty face. She was also very aware of his
magnetism. There was something sensual about Kevin Slader; something
powerful, almost hypnotizing. While they'd stood in line at the bar
discussing the ugliness of recent terrorist acts committed overseas, the
raw sexuality Kevin possessed had radiated from him and managed to unsettle
every part of her.
"Uh,
no," she stammered in Nick's direction. "No, he just wanted to
talk."
He threw his
head back with a hearty laugh. "Darlin', either you're very naive, or
very polite. Don't you know that guys only talk to girls they don't know
for one reason?"
She glanced at
Kevin before focusing on Nick. "What reason is that?"
"To pick
them up, of course!"
Sweetly,
innocently, she smiled. "So in the parking lot today, when we met, you
didn't really want to help me move? You weren't being neighborly, or
gentlemanly? You were just trying to pick me up?"
Kevin and Ryan
roared with laughter and elbowed each other as if they were young boys.
"Look,"
Ryan gasped between laughs, pointing at Nick. "He actually managed to
shove both of those size thirteen feet into his mouth at the same
time!"
Nick shook his
head violently. "What I meant was; guys at parties only talk to girls
they don't know for one reason."
"Kevin!"
Chelsea
turned toward the angelic voice, as her three companions did, and saw the
glamorous Susan Johnston gliding toward them with her beautiful, famous
smile gracing her perfectly painted tips. Susan's stunning beauty caused
her to flinch with something very similar to pain.
Then she
realized, with the odd sensation of her blood freezing, that Kevin was the
friend of Nick's who was dating Susan.
What a fool
she'd been to get excited over a man who looked like Kevin. Of course he
was used to being with women much prettier, not to mention more
sophisticated, than she was.
Chelsea felt
awkward, misplaced. She wished she'd stayed in for the evening--alone and
sheltered and free of the turmoil now raging inside her.
Susan landed
on Kevin's lap in the same way a feather drifts to the ground. Her bare,
perfectly sculpted arms encircled his neck as she plastered her lips to
his.
Nick offered
his hand to Chelsea and leaned close to whisper, "Let's go
mingle."
Grateful to
escape the embarrassment of such a sultry kiss, she took his hand.
As she walked
away from the patio, sandwiched between Nick and Ryan, she couldn't help
wondering what it would be like to kiss Kevin's seemingly firm lips. And,
she couldn't help but envy the drop-dead gorgeous Susan Johnston.
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