The Party Crasher: Novella

by Erin Bevan

“Yes, well, it’s unfortunate you feel that way. Family and friends are who you can rely on.”

  Ha! Wasn’t she a fine one to talk? “I suppose that proved true in my mother’s death then.” He slapped a piece of meat on his plate and didn’t bother to meet the woman’s gaze. Instead, he heard the giant inhalation she took at his jab.

  “That was uncalled for,” Regina whispered.

  Perhaps it was a low blow, but he didn’t care. What she and his father had done was beyond low. “Maybe so, but true.” He shrugged.

  “Is everything okay over here?” His dad placed a hand on Regina’s lower back.

  “Fine, dear.” Regina gave her dear husband a half-crooked smile closer to something a wicked witch would give than an endearing wife.

  “Brantley?” The mayor cocked a bushy eyebrow.

  “It’s fine, Dad. Fine.”

  “Good.” His dad nodded. “I’d hate for—”

  “Watch out,” a voice yelled from behind. As soon as Brant turned around, the enormous bunny flew toward him, knocking him backward into the food table as the heavy ball of fur toppled him. Something cool and squishy covered his back as his elbow flailed sideways. Some other equally mushy substance covered his arm, as a giant “plopping” sound met his ears.

  “What the hell?” Brant yelled, his voice muffled as his face and mouth were covered in bunny fur.

  The bunny.

  The big-ass bunny shimmied off him as the crowd around him made a collective gasp while child-like screams echoed through the park.

  Slowly, Brant rose from the table. Cake chunks plopped off his back, icing clogging one ear, and sauce dripped from his elbow. He looked down at his clothes. Cake covered the back of his shirt and ass, while sauce droplets covered his jeans. He pivoted to see the damage done to the food. The cake, sunken in and smashed, sported a giant indention where his back had landed. Brown sauce spots covered the white tablecloth, and inside the giant sauce bowl, an oversized bunny head—sans body—stared back at him. He shifted his gaze to the right. There stood the rest of the bunny, but it wasn’t a man as he’d assumed. Instead, it was a woman with brown hair and bright blue eyes that stood out against the tears welled in them. Her head barely came over the torso of the suit.

  Why was she in that?

  “I told you we should have hired May,” Regina whispered, her voice laced with anger as she stared at his dad. Her Easter-pink suit was dotted with sauce stains.

  “Kit, are you okay?” The pregnant woman from the gazebo plowed down the stairs and stood by the bunny’s side.

  “I’m fine,” the woman’s voice shook. “I’m fine.” She unzipped the suit and the massive costume fell to the ground. Though her frame was small and curvy, the suit had to weigh as much as she did. No wonder she had such trouble. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.” Her voice shook barely audible over the children crying as more tears welled in her eyes. She stumbled to free her feet from the oversized costume, and in her distress, Brant’s irritation ebbed as he stared at the woman bunny. Her face burned bright red, the task of freeing her feet proved harder than she had obviously intended.

  He glanced around at the crowd. Everyone stared at the scene, their gazes filled with curiosity. Many patrons scooted closer to see what had happened. He returned his gaze to the bunny. Her cheeks burned even redder as she continued fighting to free herself from the costume.

  Despite what had happened to him, he ached for her. Obviously, she’d not meant to knock him down. In fact, as he began questioning why in the world anyone would hire her to wear a costume twice her size, he became down right angry, and an odd, deep-rooted attraction pulled him toward her as several tears fell down her face.

  “Here. It’s okay. Let me help.” He reached for her hand as more cake plopped off his shirt and to the ground. She glanced up at him, unsure whether to take his hand or not.

  “You’re helping me? Seriously?”

  “Yes. Seriously.” He pushed his batter-covered hand closer. “Take it.”

  She placed her palm in his. A zap of electricity rushed up his arm as he helped her out of the suit. He shook the feeling off as static electricity as Kit came to her own two feet again, tears still steadily streaming down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  He did a shrug and more cake plopped to the ground. “Worse things could happen than being tackled by a pretty girl.”

  A small, pleasant smile crossed her lips seconds before some child screamed off in the distance. “The Easter Bunny’s not real. It’s not real.” The wails caused a domino effect. Children all over the park cried and screamed even louder, their Easter dreams ruined, as the decapitated bunny head swam in a pool of brown goo.

  “Oh God, what have I done?” Kit cried and glanced around at all the screaming children. Even his little Riley had begun to cry. He gave his sister an agonizing glance when she pulled Riley’s face into her stomach as if to hide his niece from the trauma.

  Glancing back at Kit, her chest heaved as she took in a deep breath, the tears still falling in a steady stream, her eyes full of humiliation.

  He imagined if he were in her shoes, he would wish a UFO would come and beam him up in that second. Staring back at the crowd he saw a slight opening. If they made a run for it, he could get her out of there before people started hurling eggs at her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You want to get out of here?”

  She stared at him long and hard before she nodded. “God, yes. This is awful.”

  “Then, come on. I know a place where we can go.” He pulled her hand through the vocal crowd. Regina’s gaze shot ice-cold irritation toward Kit, while May’s danced with…he wasn’t sure what. Curiosity perhaps? Or downright jealousy? Either way, her glare unnerved him, sending a shiver down his spine. Pink, buttercream splatters dotted May’s shirt as a result of his tumble. He bit back a smile, gripped the bunny girl’s hand tighter, and waved his niece goodbye as he led the mystery woman to safety, sauce dripping down his arm in their getaway.

  Chapter 3

  What in the world was she doing? Saving herself, that’s what.

  So what if it happened to be with a tall, dark, and handsome man she’d never met that she just so happened to totally plow into the five-layered cake Chef Donovan had spent all of three days on? And so what she didn’t even know this guy’s name, where he was from, how old he was, or what his intentions really were?

  At this point, she really didn’t care. Much.

  She’d successfully and single-handedly ruined the fictional dream of the Easter Bunny for every child in Stony Brook, and if looks could kill, she’d be as flat as a strand of ribbon on the grassy lawn of the park.

  The man pulling her hand picked up speed and her stride switched to a jog. “Wait, where…are you taking me?” Between the crying from embarrassment and the strain of physically keeping up with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, her question came out strained.

  He glanced back at her, as he continued his pace. “I’m taking you to my car. I live a couple of blocks away. We can go there. I’ll pour you a drink.”

  Car? His place? Drink? Strange man. Everything her mama ever warned her about with boys came rushing back.

  “Wait.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp, the greasiness from the buttercream frosting making it easier to slip out of his hold. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I don’t even know your name.”

  He stared down at her. Sauce still dripped from his arm, and cake splattered to the ground with each of his steps. He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at the buttercream puddle around his feet.

  “Name’s Brant, and you’re Kit,” he replied very matter of fact.

  She gave him a questioning look and took a step back. “How did you—”

  He pointed back toward the gazebo area. “That pregnant lady said your name after you tossed me into the dessert.”

  Anna.

  “I’m so sorry about that. Really I am.” More tears we
lled in her eyes. “And my job. It’s over. I ruined my chance before I even really began.” How was she going to pay her rent? How would she explain this event to her father? Twenty-six and she couldn’t get a job.

  “Sweetheart.” Brant leaned a little closer.

  An undercurrent of spice drifted toward her mixed with the smell of crème and brown sugar. He had icing on the side of his ear, and she fought the desire to reach up and lick it off him.

  What the hell?

  She was losing it. Not losing it. Had already lost it. That costume had been hot; not to mention, when she placed the head on, she could have sworn she’d stuffed her head in a bag of old gym socks. That stench must’ve restricted the oxygen flow to her brain. She moved her gaze from Tall, Dark, and Handsome’s ear to his face then down his chest. Oxygen or not, between the sauce, the icing, and him… her mouth watered. Edible. Every last inch of him.

  She sucked in a breath and remembered why she got to stand back and admire how delicious he looked. Because she’d plowed him into a freaking table. Her seconds of forgetting her embarrassment evaporated, and staring at him, his sodden clothes, and even his icing-covered hair, made her feel ten shades of stupid all over again.

  She’d proved nothing more than a reckless, crying, hot mess of a twenty-something-year-old who couldn’t retain a job. Just what every employer looked for on an employee’s resume.

  “I don’t think being an Easter Bunny should have ever been your profession.” Handsome cocked a teasing smile.

  Easter Bunny?

  “What? No.” She shook her head. “Not the bunny. I’m not talking about my job as the bunny.” But, he’d just proven her previous thoughts right. She couldn’t even be a bunny. What a mess. “Oh, never mind. Forget it.” She wiped the buttercream from her hand on her jeans then wiped her eyes.

  He scrunched his forehead, obviously confused. No reason or time to explain. She just wanted to run. Far, far away.

  “Thank you for rescuing me and being so nice to me after I did…” She waved a hand over him, “all of that to you, but I better go back to my car instead.” She backed up and gave one last look at his sculpted biceps, biceps that would be nice to cuddle into, before she pivoted.

  Stop being dense.

  “Wait.” He grabbed her hand, turning her back around, and a stupid tingle vibrated up her palm. That was the second time she’d tingled from him touching her. She stared at her hand then shifted her gaze back to his. A sparkle danced in his eye and her insides lit up like a Roman candle.

  “Let me take you back to my place. Please? Pour you a drink.”

  His place?

  Her body shouted a resounding yes like a poorly made adult film as her brain screamed hell-to-the-no.

  She shut out her confused body and tuned in to the noise behind her. Children still screamed, and the sound of their cries caused her cheeks to flush even more. At least her tears had stopped.

  “Every single person in this town is staring at us, aren’t they?” She cringed and didn’t dare look back. All the angry gazes practically burned a hole into her back, like some light saber equipped Jedi.

  “Yes.” He sighed and nodded. “Where is your car?”

  She pulled her hand back and the tingles stopped. Damn it. “On the other side of the park.” She hooked a thumb behind her. “Why?”

  Stop telling him where you parked. He could be crazy.

  “Well, because, you can go back to face the angry mob, the one whose Easter dreams you squashed as successfully as that dessert back there—and if that’s what you want, fine.” He held his hands in the air. “I’ll even walk with you.”

  “Gee, thanks for reminding me.” She rolled her eyes at his comment. She already felt like a complete heel for everything that had happened; he didn’t have to rub it in.

  “Or.” He dipped his head to catch her gaze again. “You can let me get you out of here. Chose me, Kit. Don’t make me regret falling for you.” He gave her a little wink for his play on words.

  She giggled. Actually giggled like a stupid schoolgirl. Not only was she now jobless, but she was also now a tear stricken, laughing, jobless idiot.

  And running off with some man she didn’t know would put the icing on the cake, no pun intended. “Umm… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  “You’re hesitant. Understandable, so, I’ll leave you to go find a shower and a clean shirt, but I really hope I’ll see you around.” He placed a kiss on her hand that caused her skin to do that stupid tingle thing again before he turned to leave.

  Well, hell. Everything he did annoyed her, and no matter how bad she wanted, she couldn’t go with him. She didn’t even know him.“Yeah, maybe some day.”

  He gave her a wink before he took off in a jog.

  She turned to face the crowd behind her. Screaming, crying children, and the loud, obnoxious voice of Mrs. Fuller floated in the air, “I told Teddy not to hire her. She’s never had a real event planning job before.”

  Perhaps she didn’t know what she was doing, but she’d never admit it to any of those people, and walking back toward that crowd seemed about as enticing as an enema. What she did know was she liked laughing, a lot, and Brant had the power to make her smile. Facing the mob of unhappy parents behind her or staring at Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome? Even if she didn’t know who he was?

  Tall, Dark, and Handsome for the win.

  Please, Lord, don’t let him be some mass murder. That would really suck.

  “Wait,” she called as she turned, but Brant had disappeared with not so much a trail of cake left behind to direct her to his path. “Well, shit.” Of course she’d lost him. That was the kind of day she’d been having.

  She glanced behind her again. Mrs. Fuller had taken the microphone. No way would she listen to that speech. The woman was sure to offer her job to May right on the spot in front of the entire town, and after today, everyone would embrace May with open arms.

  Kit peered around, searching for a place to go. She remembered the small bar about two blocks up. It looked like she would wait for the crowd to die before she got to her car after all. Unfortunately, not with the company of Tall, Dark, and Handsome, but that was okay. She needed a moment alone to figure out her next move—and how she would pay her bills without calling on dear old Dad.

  Kit sucked in a deep breath of hot, muggy air. The rain clouds rolled to the east, no longer hovering over the park area. At least it didn’t rain. One thing had gone right.

  Taking her time, she continued on a slow stroll around the neighborhood to clear her mind. Twenty minutes had gone by and she still had no idea what to do about her job. She could go apologize, explain to the mayor what had happened, but a feeling in her gut told her it wouldn’t matter.

  She’d ruined Stony Brook’s Easter, and the news was sure to travel outside of Stony Brook. The incident wouldn’t bode well for her reputation anywhere within a fifty-mile radius of this town, and yet, moving wasn’t an option. Too expensive.

  After circling the block a few times, she found herself standing in front of the local tavern. Her original destination. Perhaps that drink was a good idea after all, despite it being four o’clock in the afternoon.

  As soon as she opened the door to Jake’s, a blast of cold air hit her right in the face. A hunky, thick-thighed guy in a baseball uniform ran around some bases on the television, while the speakers blasted about the grass being green and girls looking good. She ducked her head and peered around the room. No sign of anyone she knew. Thank the Lord.

  Kit scooted toward the very last stool at the bar and took a seat. She placed her hands on the counter and tapped her fingers on the wooden top. A bowl half-full of bar nuts sat in front of her. Grabbing a napkin out of the dispenser, she used it to shield her hand as she slowly pushed the nuts away. Yuck. A shiver ran up her spin.

  “What’ll it be, beautiful?” A large man with more than just a little hair peeking out from the top buttons of his flannel shirt stared at
her as he dried a glass. Maybe this was Harry.

  “I don’t know. Um…”

  “She’ll have a Seven and Seven.”

  The hairs on her arms stood, and she instinctively sat up straighter. Without turning her head, she remembered the voice she’d heard just minutes before. Swiveling her head to the right, her gaze contacted with his newly shirted chest. He, too, had on a flannel button up, but the threads on him looked a thousand times more delectable than on the scruffy bartender. Trailing her gaze up the buttons, she followed the path to strong shoulders, a five o’clock shadow that seemed to have grown in the twenty-minutes since she’d last seen him, and the look topped off with a refreshing smile that would have been impossible to not lift anyone’s sour mood or their libido. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome was back. Beside her. Again.

  Her heart sped as he pulled up a seat next to her, the smell and traces of barbecue sauce and buttercream gone, allowing his deep, manly spice to form a cozy cloud of comfort around her. His green gaze darted to her as a mischievous smile spread across his face, only increasing the gleam in his eyes.

  Her body tried to do stupid tingles all over again, before her brain finally kicked in. Why was he here, and how did he know she was here? Did he follow her? She kept an eye on her drink as the bar tender pushed it toward her, making sure Mr. T.D. & H didn’t try to slip something in it. For all she knew he could be some bunny rabbit sex addict and Brant might not even be his real name.

  “What’ll you have?” Hairy chest pointed toward her barstool neighbor.

  “Got any Johnnie?”

  “Uh…” The man turned around and stared at the bottles. “Yeah. Here’s Johnnie.” The guy reached for the bottle.

  An image of Jack Nicholson sticking his face through the bathroom door came to mind.

  Crap, she was nuts.

  “Double on the rocks,” Brant ordered.

  “Yep.” Bartender nodded, the two men, obviously not making the same reference to The Shining like she had.

  Handsome turned his contagious smile on her before he scrunched his forehead, a perfect crease separating both sides of his face right between the eyes. Even his wrinkles were prefect. Fantastic.