by Nora Roberts
Emma wiggled in her seat. “Here comes the really sexy part.”
“He just takes over. He has this way of cornering me, and my brain shuts off. He’s good at it, and my brain just closes down. It’s reflex,” she claimed. “Or reaction.”
“Is he all hot and fast, or slow and easy?” Mac asked.
“I’m unaware if he has a slow speed.”
“Told you.” Mac elbowed Emma.
“After my brain started working again, I told him I wasn’t having it, that he couldn’t just grab and go whenever he wanted. And he just looked amused. Pretty much like the three of you—and you, too, Mrs. G, because I see you over there—are looking now.”
“Kissed him back, didn’t you?” Mrs. Grady pointed out.
“Yes, but—”
“So even if he hadn’t knocked your legs out from under you, you wouldn’t have one to stand on.”
She wanted to sulk, badly. So she shrugged instead. “It’s just a physical reaction.”
“I don’t know about that,” Laurel began, “but if it is, I have to say, so what?”
“I’m not going to get tangled . . .” She remembered Mrs. Grady’s phrase, cut her eyes in that direction and saw the housekeeper raise her eyebrows.“I’m not going to get involved this way with someone when I feel it could be a mistake. Especially when he’s a friend of Del’s, of Jack’s, of Carter’s. Especially when I really don’t know him well, or know that much about him.”
“Isn’t dating someone part of the process of finding out about him?” Emma reached over, laid a hand on Parker’s. “You’re interested, Parker. It’s all over you.You’re attracted. And you’re nervous about it.”
“You had fun with him, Parks.” Mac lifted her hands. “Why not have some fun?”
“He’s immune to your Back-Off Cloak, and your freeze ray. He doesn’t act or react in a way you can predict or control.” Laurel gave Parker’s leg a pat under the table. “So you want a reason to say no.”
“I’m not that shallow.”
“Not shallow. Nervous about letting him get too close because he could matter more than you bargained for. I think he already does.”
“I just don’t know. And I don’t like not knowing.”
“Then take a little time,” Emma said, “and find out.”
“I’ll think about it. I will.” How could she not, Parker admitted? “And that’s all there is of this morning’s sexy breakfast story. I appreciate everything, I really do, but we have to switch modes. We’re already running behind with the meeting.We have an event to prep for.”
MAL INSTALLED NEW MOTOR MOUNTS ON A HONEY OF A ’62 T-BIRD Sports Roadster. At the customer’s directive, he’d all but rebuilt the engine, and when the job was done, all 390 cubic inches would growl down the road like a big sleek cat. He’d already replaced the brake pads, fixed the cooling system, and refined the three two-barrel Holley carburetors.
By his calculations, in a few hours he’d be taking this big bastard for a test drive.
“That’s a beauty.”
He pulled his head from under the hood to see Del, lawyer-suited-up, inside the cavern of the garage.
“She is that. Sixty-two, M-Code,” Mal added, “bullet sleek. One of about two hundred sold back in the day.”
“Really?”
“Bitch was pricey. Customer bought this at an auction, had it restored. Rangoon Red exterior, two-toned red and white in.White-walls, wire wheels. He got a clue after he’d had the exterior and interiors restored that the reason it might be giving him some trouble on the road was the hundred-twelve original miles on the engine.”
“And that’s where you came in.”
“We fix.Take a look.”
“Sure, as long as I’m not required to know what I’m looking at, or half of what you’re talking about.”
“This baby has the chrome dress-up package.”
Del looked in, saw a big engine, a lot of black, some gleaming chrome, and various parts stamped with Thunderbird. Because he knew his job, he nodded. “So, what’ll she do?”
“When I’m finished? Just about anything you want her to except kiss you good night.” Mal pulled the bandanna out of his back pocket, wiped his hands. “Are you having trouble with the Mercedes?”
“No. I had a breakfast meeting in town, so I swung by after to drop off the papers you asked me to draw up. I can give you about ten minutes if you want to look over them now. Or I can leave them in your office, and you can read them when you’ve got a chance, call me with any questions.”
“I’ve got my hands full here, so I’ll read through them later. As long as I’m not required to know what I’m looking at, or half of what you’re talking about.”
“I’ll walk you through it whenever.”With a thoughtful frown, Del looked under the hood again.“Maybe one of these days you’ll walk me through an engine.”
Mal’s office consisted of a cubbyhole off the garage outfitted with a metal desk, a couple of filing cabinets, and a swivel chair. Del stepped in, took the file out of his briefcase, and set it on top of the inbox.
Mal stuck the rag back in his pocket. “We may want to take that ten minutes to talk about some personal business.”
“Sure.What’s up?”
“I took Parker out last night.”
After one slow take, Del shook his head. “You talked her back onto the bike? Did you have a gun?”
“We made a deal.We’d take a ride, grab some dinner, and when I dropped her back home, if she hadn’t had a good time, I’d back off.”
“So you—” A faster take this time. “Back off from what?”
“From her, and this thing we’ve got going.”
“What thing would that be?”
They shared that, Mal thought, the instant Brown frost. “You really want me to spell that out for you?”
“And when did this thing start?”
“For me? About two minutes after she first opened her mouth to me, and it’s been clicking up some levels since. For her? You’d have to ask her yourself. Since she did have a good time, and I won’t be backing off, I’m being up-front with you.”
“Just how far has this thing gone?”
Mal paused a moment. “You know, Del, I get how you are about Parker, about all of them. Switch the circumstances, I’d probably be the same, so I get it. But I’m not going there with you, not about Parker. If you want to ask her, that’s between the two of you. But I’ll say this, if you think I’m just after a quick score, you and me? We don’t know each other as well as either of us thought.”
“She’s my sister, goddamn it.”
“If she wasn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She’s also a beautiful, smart, interesting woman.And she’s nobody’s push-over. If and when she wants to shake me off, that’s what she’ll do.”
“And if she does?”
“I’ll be sorry, because, like that car, she’s a rare breed. Classy and powerful and fucking gorgeous. And worth a hell of a lot of time and trouble.”
Frustration radiating like sunlight, Del shoved his hand in his pocket. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say about this.”
“Can’t tell you.” Mal shrugged. “By the way, you can pay her my hundred. After we made the deal, I figured I should be up-front with her, so I told her about the bet in case she wanted to get pissed off and flip me off.”
“Great. Perfect.”
“She didn’t get pissed. She just wanted a cut of the bet. Jesus, who wouldn’t go for a woman who thinks like that? Anyway, it seems fair her take comes from you. I’ll collect my share from Jack, and the two of you can settle it with Carter.”
“I don’t know if we’re square on this. I have to get my head around it. But I know this: If you screw with her, if you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Got that. How about this? If I screw with her, if I hurt her, I’ll let you.”
“Son of a bitch. Read the damn papers.” Without another word, Del strode off.
Could’ve been worse, Mal considered. Del could’ve punched him in the face the way he had Jack over Emma. So, he figured he and Del were one up there.
He shrugged it off, then went back to work on the engine, on something he knew, absolutely, how to fix.
KNOWING HER SCHEDULE, DEL MADE IT A POINT TO GET HOME early enough to corner his sister. She had rehearsals, and an event, which might have equaled an overfull plate for anyone else. But he knew damn well Parker routinely built in time for emergencies.
This, to his way of thinking, qualified.
He timed it strategically, arriving at the end of the first rehearsal, while Laurel was busy in her kitchen, Emma and her team already dressing the house for the arrival of the evening’s bridal party, and before the second rehearsal.
Mac, he knew, would be occupied with her camera.
He strolled up as Parker waved off the first clients and their party.
“You’re home early.”
“Yeah, I juggled some things so I could get back and give you all a hand.”
“We can use it. The next rehearsal’s in about fifteen minutes, and tonight’s bride and party are due in about thirty for hair and makeup.We’re on schedule, but—”
“Good, let’s take that fifteen.” He took her hand to stroll onto the lawn.
“Should I assume someone saw me with Malcolm last night, and reported to you?” She smoothed down the line of her suit jacket. “We know each other too well, Del.”
“I’d have thought. But then I wouldn’t have thought you’d be out doing an Easy Rider.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Look it up.”
“Fine. If you’re going to try a lecture on the risks of motorcycles, you have to first provide me with an affidavit stating you haven’t ridden on one or driven one within the last thirty-six months.”
Okay, he’d bench that argument. To buy a little more time, he took out his wallet, pulled out a hundred, and passed it to her.
“Thanks.” She folded it, tucked it into her pocket.
“Did you go out with him because of the bet?”
“I went out with him despite the bet.”
“Since all bets are off, are you planning to go out with him again?”
“He hasn’t asked me, and I haven’t decided.” She turned her head to give his face a long study. “Since you show no signs of being in a fight, and I imagine Malcolm can give as good as he gets, I have to assume no punches were thrown when he told you I knew about the bet.”
“I don’t make a habit of punching people. Jack was an exception,” he qualified before she could speak. “And Mal avoided that by telling me about . . . all this straight off.”
She paused. “He told you himself ?”
“And you didn’t.”
Considering Malcolm’s tact, she answered without thinking. “Del, are you really living with the illusion I tell you about every man I date?”
“So you and Mal are dating?”
“No. Maybe. I haven’t decided. Do I give you a cross-examination over everyone you date, or dated before you and Laurel? And if you say that’s different, I may punch you.”
“I’m trying to find a phrase that merely alludes to ‘that’s different.’” Because it got a snicker out of her, he took her hand as they walked. “Let’s back up to the point that none of the guys you’ve dated have been friends of mine. Good friends of mine.”
“True. And did I get in the middle when things changed between you and Laurel? My brother and one of my closest friends? And, no, Del, it’s still not different.”
“I’m not getting in the middle. I’m just circling the outer perimeter, trying to get a gauge of the ground.”
“I don’t know the ground yet. We went for a ride, had pizza, and . . .”
“And?”
“And completed the standard hat trick of dating with a kiss good night.”
“So you’re interested in him.”
“I’m not disinterested. It surprised me, but I’m not disinterested. I had a good time last night, and I didn’t expect to. I relaxed and enjoyed myself, and it’s been a long time since I’ve done that with a man. Just enjoyed myself. He might be your client, Del, or a casual acquaintance, but the fact that he’s your friend says you not only like him, but you trust and respect him. Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”
“No.” He sucked in air and scowled into the distance. “Damn it.”
“And the fact that he told you about this himself, it matters. I didn’t tell Laurel or any of the others until this morning. And I’m not sure I’d have done it then if Mac hadn’t heard the bike, and seen me ride off with Mal.That doesn’t speak as well of me.”
“You didn’t want to put them in the middle, an awkward place between you and me.”
“That was part of it—not the main, but part.” She paused, turning so they stood face-to-face. “Don’t put me in the middle, Del, between you and your friend. Please don’t make me a point of contention.”
“I won’t. Unless he screws it up. Then I’ll kick his ass. He already knows that. Actually, he agreed if he screwed it up, he’d let me kick his ass. And yeah,” Del admitted,“that speaks well of him, too, because I know him, and he meant it.”
She wrapped her arms around Del to hug. “I’m really good at taking care of myself, but it’s awfully nice to have a big brother I know will do it for me, whenever I need it.”
“Count on it.”
“I do. Now.” She drew back. “If you’re here to help, go find Emma. She’ll be the one most in need of extra hands. And here comes the next group.”
She left Del to cross toward the parking area to greet the first arrivals. It was odd, wasn’t it, she thought, that she’d barely acknowledged to herself she had a genuine interest in Malcolm Kavanaugh, yet she’d spent a good deal of her day talking about him.
And more, she admitted, thinking about him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BEFORE HER PARTNERS JOINED HER FOR THE MORNING SUMMIT ON the day’s events, Parker got in a solid workout, showered, dressed for the long day, and reviewed the files.
The Friday night wedding had run like silk, requiring no more than the expected racing around, heading off potential glitches, and quick decisions behind the scenes.
And fortunately for all involved, Jaci said yes to Griff.
Today, with two events scheduled, the work more than doubled. Timing, always an essential ingredient, became absolutely vital, and included all the setting up for the late morning wedding with seventy-five guests, breaking it down, then redressing the stage for the evening’s job.
Emma and her team, Parker knew, had the bulk of the purely physical work, hauling flowers and material, dressing the exterior and the interior spaces—twice—with a complete breakdown between. Most of Laurel’s work—the cakes, the pastries, the chocolates— would be done before the first event, with only the setups needed. So she’d fill in where any holes widened, and work with the caterers.
Mac would have to be everywhere, before and during the events, and Mac and Parker would have the primary job of keeping the bride and groom happy and on schedule, reining in the wedding party, the parents.
She checked her own emergency kit: bandages, breath mints, aspirin, notepad and pencil, mini hairbrush, comb, nail file, wet naps, spot remover, lighter, eyeglass cleaner, and a Swiss Army knife that included a pair of scissors.
She had her second and last cup of coffee while reviewing her spreadsheet and highlighting any potential problem areas.And was set for the meeting when Laurel breezed in.
“I don’t want to make another woodland violet for a decade, but, baby, is that Wildflower Wedding Cake a beauty. Go, me.”
“Go, you. How’s the White Lace?”
“It’s—and I do say so myself—stunning.” Laurel poured coffee from the pot, added a small muffin. “Emma’s already dressing the entrance with her team. Our first event, the casual country deal, is going to be beau
tiful. She’ll head up as soon as she’s finished the front urns. She wants to do that herself.”
She plopped down. “So, did Mal call?”
“Why would he?”
“To talk to his Bitchin’ Biker Babe?”
“Aren’t you the cutest thing?”
“I am.” Laurel patted the hair she’d already scooped up and back for work. “I really am.Why don’t you call him?”
“Why would I?”
Obviously amused, Laurel leaned her elbow on the table, braced her chin in her hands. “Del thinks it’s weird, but he’s not inclined—yet—to beat Malcolm up.”
“Such restraint.”
“It is for Del when it comes to you. I could tell Del to tell Mal to call.”
“When do we graduate from high school again?”
“It’s fun.”
Parker shook her head.“It wasn’t even a date. A nondate and a couple of kisses.”
“Hot, steamy kisses.”
“Regardless,” Parker began, and Mac strolled in.
“’Morning, both. Did Mal call?”
“No. And could we all just—”
“You should call him. Maybe try the message machine conversations.” As Laurel had, Mac hit the coffee setup.“Carter and I had the best message machine conversations.We still do sometimes. Or e-mails. Emma and Jack did the sexy e-mailing.Your CrackBerry’s fused to your hand anyway, so it’d be easy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for down the road to never. Now maybe we could, I don’t know, discuss the two major events we’re getting paid to orchestrate today?”
“You’re so strict.”
Emma raced in, a Diet Pepsi in one hand, her laptop in the other.“I feel like I’ve already run five miles this morning. Did—”
“No.” Parker didn’t snap it, but it was close. “Malcolm didn’t call. No, I’m not going to call him, leave a message on his machine, or e-mail him. Does that cover it?”
“You could take your car in for service. No, he just did that. You could take the van in,” Emma decided. “No, he did that a couple months ago, and boy, did I get a lecture. Maybe—”