Countdown To A Kiss A New Years Eve Anthology

by Colleen Gleason

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? Chapter Nine

  Present Day

  Well, that went well. Better than he'd expected.

  Wilder walked away from Tess with easy strides, feeling, for the first time fully confident of himself around her. He was no longer the fumbling, intimidated young man who adored the bright and shining, unattainable star.

  Christ-he snorted at himself-did I actually think those words? Bright and shining star? Unattainable?

  "Oh there you are, John. I've been looking all over for you. " His mother's voice penetrated his thoughts and pulled him right out of the depths.

  "Hi Mom. Hey Rick," he added, glancing at his mother's date, then back at her. "You look great," he remembered to say, then realized it was true. His mom looked hot. Really hot. He caught Rick's eye and gave him a cool warning look. Spanks. Christ. Now he felt vaguely ill.

  Rick grinned and affectionately jostled his date. "Your son's giving me the hairy eyeball. "

  "He does that sometimes," she replied, looking totally pleased with herself. "But now he's going to dance with his mother, because it's after ten already. "

  Wilder didn't see how he had any choice, so he handed Laney's chardonnay to Rick and asked him to deliver it to her. Then he set his own drink down and led his mother out to the dance floor. Thank God it wasn't a fast dance; he just couldn't imagine swiveling hips in front of his mom, or, worse, watching her swivel hips in front of him.

  "What's wrong?" she asked as soon as they embraced then moved into an easy swaying motion, his hand on her waist, hers on his shoulder.

  "Nothing's wrong," he said. Then he realized that only three couples away, Tess was dancing with Brooks Bennett. Which put her directly in his line of sight. She was facing toward him at the moment, giving him an unwanted view of herself.

  Usually she wore her hair down, long and full and morning-after sexy. But tonight, someone had spent a lot of time doing it up in a loose, messy style. He'd been close enough to see a myriad of tiny braids and curls and sparkling clips, all pulled together in a disordered mess of honey-bronze-platinum. Her dress tonight was the color of a rich, full-bodied red wine with a high, modest neckline that cut away to bare her shoulders like an athletic swimsuit-and, thank God, hid that sexy freckle by her throat. Her only jewelry was a wide glittering bracelet. Probably real diamonds from her dickwad husband.

  "Don't lie to your mother," said his mother. "I can tell when something's wrong. You were talking to Tess Devine. . . . " Her voice trailed off knowingly. "Tell me what's wrong. "

  "Mom, there's nothing to tell. " He'd shifted them around so he didn't have to look at Tess, and he actually believed those words. Over and done with. Time to move on from the Curse of Tess Devine.

  "She's getting divorced, you know," his mother announced. "I just heard. "

  He very nearly stopped in his tracks, but suddenly aware of how closely she was scrutinizing him, he managed to hide his shock. "Oh?" Oh shit. Wilder suddenly felt as if the floor was falling away beneath his feet. What had he said. . . something about her asshat husband? Who was an asshat, no doubt, but still. . . .

  Maybe he wasn't as good at hiding his reaction as he thought-or maybe it was just because it was his mother, but she squeezed his shoulder. "You've had a thing for her for a long time, haven't you?"

  No. Yes. How the hell did you know? "What?" seemed like the safest response.

  "Well, at least you aren't denying it," she said, looking up at him shrewdly. "Maybe we're making progress. "

  "What are you talking about?" They'd shifted around again, and he was once more facing his New Year's Eve Curse. . . but this time he had a view of her long, elegant, naked back. On which Brooks had settled one large hand. . . right above her ass.

  Whoa. Suddenly he could hardly swallow. It looked so damn modest from the front. . . until you saw it from the rear. He swore he could make out the beginning of her bottom. . . those two sweet indentations right above the nice sassy curve. And her hair was up, so he could see where the wide halter buttoned with three glittering garnet fasteners at the nape of her neck.

  He peeled his eyes away and realized he hadn't given a damned thought to Laney since he caught a glimpse of Tess. Frigging idiot, Wilder. How many more New Year's Eves are you going to let her fubar?

  "Oh, look-there's Harry Devine. I've been wanting to dance with him. Hi Harry," said his mom in a very loud voice as the song came to an end. . . and because the band was killer, they knew better than to give their audience a chance to slip from the dance floor, so they went right from "Unforgettable" into "Lady in Red" with hardly a change of chord.

  "Do you mind if I claim this next dance with your father, Tess? You can dance with him any time," Mom was saying as she intercepted Mr. Devine, who was just relieving Brooks from his dance with Tess.

  The next thing Wilder knew, he was facing Tess in the middle of the dance floor. Right in the middle, so there was no easy escape. Her face was stony, which, could he blame her?

  "Guess we're dancing," he said, trying out his signature grin, and reached for her. "And, hey, it's your song-'Lady in Red. '" He gestured to her sparkling cabernet gown.

  "I wouldn't want to upset your very sexy date," she hissed. But her cheeks had high patches of red on them that he was pretty sure wasn't makeup.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "My comment was uncalled-for. "

  "It certainly was," she snapped. They weren't dancing, but more like facing off in the middle of a crowd of people. Strobe lights flickered around and over them and the music was loud enough that he could hardly hear her, let alone anyone else. "My ex-husband might be an asshat, but that's beside the point. I hope you have better luck getting into your very sexy date's pants than you did to mine. She might fall for your lines, but I sure didn't. "

  With that, she turned and flounced away.