Summer Heat

by Carly Phillips

  http://skyewarren.com

  RESISTING THE BAD BOY

  VIOLET DUKE

  CHAPTER ONE

  GLANCING ACROSS THE ROOM at his guests, Connor Sullivan was pleasantly shocked to see his brother Brian arrive at the party with a date on his arm.

  As most everyone in his house tonight could attest, Connor wasn’t used to failing. He was one of the most sought-after corporate attorneys in the Western U.S. with a courtroom reputation even his friends referred to as notorious—due in part to the impressive number of times and ways he’s been held in contempt for his clients.

  So sue him, he enjoyed the rough and tumble victories. He fought hard for his wins, and he did it well.

  But when it came to helping his little brother cope with being a widower at the age of thirty, Connor had no clue who to fight, or how to win.

  Aside from paying off a decade’s worth of hospital and care facility bills from his sister-in-law’s battle with early-onset Huntington’s, and creating a scholarship in Beth’s name for youth plagued with the debilitating disease, Connor had felt useless to Brian after her death. All he’d been able to do was give him space, the only thing Brian insisted he needed.

  For nearly a year.

  Logically understanding that Brian had to tackle this on his own didn’t make it any less of a bitch for Connor; it just made him craftier about how he snuck in the big brother thing.

  Luckily, it was summer in Arizona, he had a pool, and Brian had a pre-teen daughter. Simple as that. After a month of regular family cookouts, it was no longer uncommon for Brian to show up at the house unannounced, grab an unoffered beer, and plant himself on the couch to catch a game uninvited.

  It was nice having his brother back.

  For the better part of a decade, Brian’s singular mission had been to give his wife a lifetime’s worth of happiness every day, while hiding his own anguish over her heartwrenching physical and psychological decline. Connor knew it used to kill Brian to watch Beth gradually give up raising her own child the worse her motor functions became. Even before she’d become bedridden.

  That’s when Connor had begun jumping in to watch his niece Skylar as much he could, mainly since the eldest Sullivan matriarch had about as much experience being a warm grandma as she’d had being ‘mom’ instead of ‘mother’ when he and Brian were kids.

  In fact, she’d specifically asked to be third in the caretaker line-up—meaning in dire asteroids-falling-from-the-sky cases only—following Brian’s friend from college, a nice girl Connor vaguely recalled meeting years ago.

  Between the two of them, they were never in the same place at the same time, but somehow managed to take the place of one full-time secondary caretaker whose sole mission was to shield Skylar from what was happening to her mom.

  There had been no shielding Brian, however.

  Truth be told, while Connor had always admired Brian’s extraordinary, wholly nonhereditary capacity for love, he’d been a little glad to see the tragic love story finally come to an end.

  Awful as that sounds.

  He’d adored his sister-in-law, really. But the time was long past for Brian to move on with his life.

  Tonight, it looked like he was finally starting to.

  “I’m going over to say hi to my brother. Do you want to come along or are you good here?” Connor asked his date for the night, the always stunning Victoria, a divorce lawyer from a rival firm who just happened to be between men this week.

  “Brian’s here tonight? How wonderful,” replied Victoria with her token radiant smile, the most effective tool in her arsenal to detract attention from her constantly wandering eyes. “Give him my best will you? I’m going to mingle. The Adonis in the gray pinstripe is looking mighty lonely there in the corner.”

  Connor rolled his eyes. “Alright, have fun. Just be sure to stay away from the men at my firm…the women too, for that matter. Last year alone, you sent our sweet, bright-eyed bankruptcy fifth-year into a funk and later had two of the probate guys ready to kill each other.”

  He frowned in remembrance of that catastrophe. “Actually, you know what? Check where they work before you even start speaking to them at all.”

  “No promises,” she sang out as she sashayed off.

  He sighed. Despite the very real threat her refusal to behave was sure to present, Connor still found himself smiling after her. Victoria was the only constant female in his life for four years running now. How that managed to happen was one of life’s great mysteries. He supposed she fell in the friends with benefits category, though calling her a friend was a bit of a stretch…and he’d politely stopped all transactional ‘benefits’ after the first month.

  Okay, so she was more of a trophy-date-on-demand with a well-advertised rolling re-enrollment policy on lapsed benefits.

  That aside, they actually had a very nice thing going. She’d accompany him to black tie functions to save him from vapid socialites on the prowl, and he’d reciprocate if ever she needed.

  Fortunately, her revolving dating door spun faster than his did so he rarely had to carry out his end. Not that she wasn’t a nice enough woman. But her glib old money view on the world was a bit much to take at times.

  Hearing the unmistakable peal of Victoria’s flirt-giggle carry across the room, Connor found himself mildly curious about who she was trying to close, so soon in the game. Peering over, he snorted out a laugh when he saw it was none other than Clay Gibbs, the man who put the ass in pompous.

  The only reason Connor let his assistant invite the privileged nitwit tonight was because Clay was a third generation firm client on a very short leash. With him here, the bail money they kept in the safe for him actually had a fighting chance to remain there.

  “Oh, what a surprise, Victoria didn’t stay to say hi.”

  The long lost sound of Brian busting his chops had Connor beaming ear to ear—it’d been a while since he’d heard him do it. “Yeah, well, you know Victoria.”

  “Nope, I sure as hell don’t. And I prefer to keep it that way.”

  Connor chuckled. “I’ll be sure to tell her there’s a man in Arizona inexplicably immune to her charms. Glad you could make it out tonight, man. And with a lovely date, no less.”

  Looking over at the pretty brunette standing beside Brian, Connor had to work hard to keep his reaction in check. Seeing her vintage pin-up girl figure from across the room earlier, he hadn’t expected the face accompanying the voluptuous body to be so…sweet.

  Wholesome even.

  “I’m Connor,” he said smiling, thrown a bit by the quick glimmer of humor he saw flash in her eyes.

  “Hi, Connor. It’s nice to see you again.”

  Again? Crap, did he know her?

  He carefully scanned her fresh-faced features once more. Wide, guileless eyes—a charming novelty he was positive he hadn’t encountered in years—untinted lips, a light tan that actually appeared to be from the sun, and deep, dark reddish brown locks done up in a ponytail more comfortable than fashionable.

  There was no way in hell he knew her.

  She was the very definition of a buxom beach babe brunette, if such a category existed, with an appealing blend of innocence and intelligence behind a pair of unaccountably sexy, cliché-free glasses. Definitely not his usual type.

  Pity.

  “I’m so sorry, have we met before?”

  Brian glared at him, looking more than a little disappointed. “Dude, it’s Abby. Abby Bartlett?”

  This was Brian’s friend from college? Wow, she sure grew up. In a nice girl with a hot halo sort of way.

  “Abby, of course. My apologies. We met in the hospital right after Skylar’s birth.”

  Those deep brown eyes of hers were outright laughing at him now. “And maybe a couple more times since then.”

  Well that just ratcheted his chagrin up to full-blown guilt.

  Her quick hey-don’t-sweat-it smile didn’t help one bit…the playful brow tilt that followed soon after, h
owever, did. “Relax, Connor. How about this—the next time you introduce yourself to me again, I’ll be sure to pretend I know what the inside of your house looks like for ‘other’ reasons. Be all indignant. Make you squirm a bit. That ought to square us.”

  Surprised laughter built in his chest. How about that? Talk about intriguing. Before he could banter right back, however, a nearby voice broke into their conversation, “Professor Bartlett, is that you?”

  Professor?

  Spicy upgrade from cute librarian. Connor was hooked.

  The line and sinker came when he then proceeded to witness Abby scold—actually scold—his firm’s best civil litigator.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to cut that out? My PhD is not a done deal, Jim.”

  “Oh hush, young lady.” James T. Holt came over to give Abby a formal peck on the cheek. “As far as I’m concerned, ‘ABD’ stands for all but done. You may as well get used to being called a professor.” Jim turned to bring Connor up to speed. “I’ve known Abby here for years. She’s a miracle worker. Thanks to her, my son was actually able to move on to high school this year.”

  “Reese was not that bad,” defended Abby, hands on hips.

  “Says the woman who only had him in small doses,” replied Jim dryly. “I’m just glad you started tutoring at his school when you did. I was really starting to get worried.”

  “That you’d have to dust off the ole grammar knowledge you ‘misplaced’ to attempt to help him with his homework?” ribbed Abby.

  Connor blinked. Seriously, who was this woman?

  Jim chortled heartily. “You caught me. Thank God for well-written paralegals and first-years.”

  “Hence my stand on standardizing a more rigorous business and technical writing curriculum in core education.”

  Abby threw an I-told-you-so grin over at Brian. “Brian, this is James Holt, one of the greatest legal minds in the city…well, next to your father and brother of course. James, this is Brian Sullivan of those Sullivans,” she editorialized behind an impishly cupped hand. “He’s the rebel son who chose the career path of teaching business economics over lawyering.”

  Brian and Jim shook hands and immediately launched into conversation over current commerce affairs.

  Never had Connor felt so invisible.

  “You can get back to your party now,” said Abby in a conspiratorial tone. “No worries, I’ll keep an eye on Brian for you tonight.”

  The innocuous words hit him like a bucket of ice on his lap, shriveling his growing interest in the woman right up. Reality check, jackass—she was Brian’s date.

  Brian’s smart, captivating, completely off-limits date.

  He took a blatant step away from the all too fascinating Abby and fumbled for a recovery, “I, uh…thanks. For taking care of it for me. Him, not it...Brian, that is.”

  Rendered idiotic by the amused, utterly female smile curving her plump lips, he finished lamely, “You’re good for him.”

  “Thanks, Connor.” She grinned. “I’ve always thought the same of you.”

  Lord, he could listen to the way she said his name all day, her husky teacher voice an inspiration for instant fantasies of the lusty sex-in-the-classroom variety.

  Yep, he had to get the hell away from her. Fast.

  “You’re right, I should return to my guests. It’s been a pleasure, Abby. Enjoy your evening.” With that and a cursory nod, he excused himself like a bat out of hell, waiting until he was safely at the other end of the room before allowing himself one final glance back.

  Just in time to see Brian whispering in her ear, of course.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “YOU WERE GETTING READY to hit on Victoria.”

  “What?! No!”

  Abby snickered at the degree of horror in Brian’s voice as she recounted the party events from two nights prior. “Yup. It was a close call, too. I got you out of your brother’s house when you started saying how hot she was.” She tsked into the phone. “I told you all that expensive liquor Connor keeps would sneak up on you harder than the cheap stuff we drink.”

  “Still. Victoria?”

  She could almost hear him shuddering.

  “Good god, I’m glad you saved me when you did. I knew it’d be a good idea to bring you to that party.”

  “Except now Connor thinks you and I are dating.”

  “So what if he does?” queried Brian indifferently. “Maybe now he’ll stop giving me those pitying looks he thinks I don’t see. You don’t mind playing along, do you?”

  She thought about it for a second. “No, I guess not. I only see the man every few years or so.”

  And he evidently only remembers me every ten.

  The pity party from that depressing fact was quickly broken up by the blaring school bell over the phone line. She checked the time. “Is that the end of lunch for you?”

  “Yeah, but I have a prep period next.”

  “Nice. So, how’s the first day going so far?”

  “Great if you don’t count how many rabid alpha students I have again this year,” he grumbled, though affectionately. “I swear, some of these kids think they’re getting their MBAs. If their term projects weren’t coincidentally due right before winter ball and prom, I’m pretty sure they’d turn in fifty-page papers.”

  Coincidence. Sure.

  If she had a penny for every time she’d had to help him grade papers at the last minute, she’d be loaded. Though a brilliant teacher, Brian had astonishingly little regard for assessments.

  “Oh hey, speaking of school dances,” Abby grinned finkishly, “I hear Skylar can look forward to her first one in the spring. You freaking out yet?”

  Brian groaned. “Don’t remind me. My blood pressure is not ready for a preteen daughter going to a dance with boys. Did she call you specifically to complain about my lack of joy in all this?”

  “Actually she told me when I was over there yesterday.”

  “You came over?”

  “During the four hours you slept off your hangover, yes.”

  “Ah, that solves the case of the missing dirty dishes.”

  “Guilty. Oh, and I tasted the culinary genius you made her before you went back to bed by the way. I thought the Cajun flavored eggs had a superb crunch.”

  “Why, thanks. Charred shell bits give it an extra zing, I think.”

  “Not to mention added protein, too…which went well with the waffles I made her.”

  He sighed. “Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

  “Often. Why just the other night, I recall at least a dozen instances. The fact that they were all localized to my chest area as I dragged your drunk butt into your house didn’t diminish the heartfelt sentiment behind the words one bit.”

  “Shit.” The horror returned to his voice. “Okay, that’s it, no more of the devil’s juice for me. I clearly can’t handle the stuff.”

  She gasped in mock alarm. “You mean our MMA fight nights will be limited to pizza and soda?”

  He paused. “Good point. I guess I’ll have to keep beer on the list of acceptable beverages. Just for you.”

  “Aw, you’re so good to me,” she chuckled as she checked the time again. “Shoot, I better get going. I’m meeting with a few teachers about expanding my tutoring roster this year.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to start volunteering until September,” he admonished sternly. “Abby, you can’t keep putting off your dissertation. Those kids can get by without you.”

  “Just setting things up, I promise. Fear not, I’m sticking to my plan. Just me and my laptop ‘til I go back to work next month.”

  “Good. I already instructed Skylar to gather her friends and chase you out of school if you show up over the next three weeks. We also blacked out every day on the calendar until ASU is back in session to remind us to leave you alone.”

  “No need to go that far. I won’t be writing the entire time. And since my teaching line is straight freshman comp again this semester,
I’m all set with my syllabus and lesson plans already. I’m sure I’ll have pockets of time to hang out here and there.”

  “Well, then you can go get reacquainted with your colleagues and the other equally brainy candidates in your program. Go get all academic again. Skylar and I have been monopolizing your time way too much lately. If you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself in front of your doctoral defense panel dropping Skylar’s OMGs and my far more delightful f-bombs.”

  Oy, her professors would think she was having a seizure and send her back to pre-dissertation comp exams for sure.

  “Besides,” he continued, “we’ve already begun the detox process to do without our Abby fix for a few weeks. Sure, we’ll be strung out since you’ve gotten us all addicted to your greatness, but we’ll be fine,” he assured softly. “Really.”

  A wash of tears stung her eyes. “Okay. Well you tell Skylar I’m never too busy for her. Or her dad.”

  “Sure thing.” The awkward pause that followed had him quickly clearing his throat. “Alright, my prep period’s almost up so I better finish eating. Happy writing, babe.”

  Abby hung up the phone with a pinch of sadness. Three whole weeks without talking to Brian on a daily basis?

  Huh.

  Ten-to-one odds he’ll crack first.

  * * * * *

  ABBY EYED THE OMINOUS black clouds that had appeared out of nowhere sometime during her last meeting of the day.

  “Great,” she muttered, rubbing her bare arms. Arizona’s unpredictable monsoon season at its finest.

  In a mocking curtsy, Mother Nature smoothly edged out the last tiny bit of blue in the sky and dumped a city-dousing waterfall of rain onto the ground within a six-second window.

  Lovely. Not even a nice drizzle to give her a head start. At least she had on sneakers today.

  “Don’t you even think about it!”

  Abby spun around to see Evelyn Ramirez, the English department head, running down the hall with a fire hydrant yellow Piñon Pine Middle School rain cloak. “You were going to run out in that downpour, weren’t you?” she accused as she slapped the school spirit poncho into Abby’s grateful hands.