The Party Girl

by Tamara Morgan

  But this restrained touch, the flash of reservation in Noah’s troubled brown eyes as he gripped her—they were more powerful than a hundred friendly overtures.

  “What did you have in mind?” she asked, not daring to move. She’d walked through a butterfly garden once and felt this exact same way. The magic of one of the creatures landing on her skin required complete immobility, lest it get scared away and ruin the moment.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  Yes. Wholeheartedly. Without question. “I barely know you.”

  “How badly do you want him to stay here?”

  She didn’t like where this was headed. “Are the chances of him getting worse really all that high?”

  “You tell me. You’re the one who felt the need to bring him back here in the middle of your work day.”

  Dammit. Not for the first time, she wished she had more self-control where Lincoln was concerned. A firm no in his ears and a door in the face would have had him giving in and calling an ambulance eventually. Not even he would have been so stubborn as to die on her doorstep in protest.

  “He has no one else to take care of him,” she said helplessly. It wasn’t strictly true—he had his brother and an overbearing sister who would be happy to step up, and there had to be some buddies on the force who could lend a hand—but none of those things seemed to matter. For all his absurdity, Lincoln was a proud man. He’d latched on to Kendra as a helper when things went awry. Apparently Noah—this trustworthy, solid man of mystery—was in on the game too. But anyone else? Fat chance.

  Noah waited long enough for her to protest further before finally withdrawing his hand. Feeling slightly bewildered, she watched him saunter over and lean casually on the side of the car, where Lincoln sat oblivious to the plans being made on his behalf.

  “Kendra is worried about you.”

  “I told her I’m good.” He leaned out the door and cupped his mouth with his hand. “Kendra, I’m good.”

  She swallowed an irritated huff and moved to join them, but Noah flicked his hand in a quick gesture for her eyes only, signaling the need for her to stay back. She complied, but not because he told her to—at least not entirely. She had a very good vantage point of Noah’s backside from over here, of jeans filled out in the best possible way. They’d obviously interrupted him in the middle of some kind of feral workout, because he was all sweat and raw strength rolled up into one. And seemingly impervious to the effect that combination might have on a woman of her particular tastes.

  The conversation that ensued between the two men wasn’t lengthy or particularly heated, but it remained cloaked in low voices and with an occasional indulgent glance her way.

  Some of her cute-backside-induced compliance melted away at the sight of those glances. So help her, if Noah did or said something to make things worse—if he led Lincoln to believe she felt anything more for him than sisterly concern—he was also going to need stitches. Being a sexually liberated single woman in this town was hard enough as it was without mixing in the possessive streak of men like Lincoln, who equated sex with ownership. She was happy to be his friend. Willing to help out when the situation called for it. But sleeping together one time didn’t make her beholden to repeat the performance—nor did it give him the right to constantly insinuate that she should.

  After a few short minutes, Lincoln took Noah’s arm and accepted his help in getting out of the car. If she didn’t know better, she’d even say he looked contrite, his head down and gaze averted.

  “I’m sorry I made you worry about me,” Lincoln said, and there was a sincerity to his voice that was downright convincing. “If it will make you feel better, I promise to stay here with Noah until I’m healed. You can confiscate my car until you decide I’m ready.”

  No way was it that easy. There had to be a catch. “What will you do about work?”

  He scuffed the dirt with his toe. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sort of suspended right now.”

  She cast a startled glance at Noah, but his face had once again resumed its composition of stone. “Did the suspension happen before or after the stabbing?”

  “Before.”

  Of course it had. That explained quite a few things about this whole situation. Lincoln had probably been out last night looking for trouble—hoping for someone to give his misery a physical symptom or two. He was exactly the sort of guy who went out to start fights rather than face his own failings as a man. And if she wasn’t mistaken, this made three suspensions in the past six months. It’d be a wonder if he had a job to go back to after this one.

  “Does Matt know about it?”

  Lincoln finally looked up, his normally plump lips firmed in a line. “I’m willing to stay out here because I know you’ll worry if I don’t. Noah is right in saying that it’s not fair of me to treat you like that after all your help. But that doesn’t mean you get to lecture me about Matt. This has nothing to do with him.”

  She wasn’t sure which part of the outburst surprised her most—that Lincoln was flashing his backbone at her, or that Noah had managed to get him to think about someone other than himself for a change. Both these things were new. And while she might have argued that the drain he was currently circling was very much his brother’s business, she kept her mouth closed. She forgot sometimes that not all families were like hers. Close-knit despite the distance of several hundred miles, she knew to every last detail what was going on in her siblings’ lives. Dev was away at medical school and getting ready for his first internship. Joni was newly married and lamenting her current non-reproductive status. Nikki...well. As the baby of the family, Nikki could probably use a phone call from her big sister sometime soon. She’d have to remember to do that.

  “Fair enough,” she finally said, giving in. She looked to Noah for confirmation, but he’d fixated on something in the distance. As there was nothing to see but puffy clouds and the emerging green of the hillside, she assumed he was being discreet.

  A discreet man. Huh. That was a bit of a rarity these days.

  “Then I guess I should go pick up some of your clothes and personal stuff,” she said, falling naturally into business mode. Right now, Lincoln wore an oversized work shirt she assumed belonged to Noah, and there was no way he could go a whole day without his pomade and body spray. “I can also swing by the store if you need me to grab anything else. Food, books, antibiotics. And you should probably restock Noah’s first-aid kit for him. Let’s make a list.”

  “Aw, don’t leave me here alone.” Lincoln headed toward the house. He didn’t even lift his right foot, forced to drag it behind as if the effort of forward momentum was too much. “This place is as dull as rocks.”

  “I don’t think that’s a nice thing to say when Noah has so generously offered to look after you.”

  “He only offered because you made him.”

  “Funny. I don’t remember being the one who got stabbed and was forced to impose on my very busy friends.”

  Despite their bickering, she sympathized with Lincoln. The house and its surroundings were lovely and all, but if she were to be exiled here for a few weeks, she imagined a little stir craziness would creep into her soul. Give her the raucous noise of a city street and boozy clubbers over pastoral silence any day.

  Though, come to think of it, she could probably find something here to entertain herself. She glanced back at Noah—arms crossed, a half-twisted smile on his face—as he watched them go. If his reaction to her so far was any indication, that smile existed for Lincoln’s benefit rather than her own. But she decided to claim it anyway. Restrained and hesitant and heart-stoppingly firm, that was the sort of expression the right woman could work a little magic on.

  Oh, yes. A week would hardly even begin to be enough time for her magic to run its course. She’d need a month. At least.

  Chapter Threer />
  When Kendra arrived home, Derek was waiting, naked, in her bed.

  “How did you get in here?” she asked as a mountain of board games fell out of her hands and slid to the ground. Tiny plastic checker pieces rolled across the floor, indicating a severe lean in her foundation. “Or were you here the whole time and I just didn’t notice?”

  She wouldn’t have forgotten something like that. She’d been tired last night, but not that tired.

  “You left a window open, sweet cheeks.” Derek rolled, exposing the swell of his affection. As he couldn’t possibly have known what time she’d get home for the day, she assumed he’d prepped himself beforehand. More than once. “I couldn’t resist.”

  She bit her lip and considered the possibility. Under normal circumstances, being unable to resist was a trait she too shared. It would be so easy to strip off her clothes and slip between the sheets, enjoy a quick tumble before heading out to Lincoln’s rescue.

  But when Derek lifted a hand and beckoned to her, his spindly fingers put out her fires with a sad, wilting fizzle. Those were not the extremities she’d dreamed of last night, of experienced man hands spreading her open and taking her roughly. Those were the hands of a boy she’d have to train, a lover who’d need constant reassurances and an energy drink in the morning. She grabbed his clothes from the floor and tossed them at him.

  “That’s called breaking and entering. Don’t do it again. This bed is open by invitation only.”

  He pouted. “So invite me in.”

  “It’s not going to happen. You caught me in the middle of something.”

  Kendra didn’t feel nearly as sorry about it as she might have a few days ago. Despite all her grumbling about the recent turn of events, she was designed for this kind of stuff: making plans, organizing resources, stepping up when no one else would. Her dad liked to joke that she’d been born with a package of Post-It notes in her hand. Her mom hinted that the impulse went further, that her obsession with physical beauty—in her clients and in her own appearance—was part of a deep-seated urge to control things.

  Which was ridiculous, of course. There was nothing wrong with a woman wanting to look and feel her best—some might even consider it a virtue. And she didn’t need to control everything. Just look at how easily Lincoln was able to suck her in to his messes, how much she flailed around trying to escape him.

  She glanced purposefully at her wrist, even though there wasn’t a watch among her jewelry. Watches were too functional. They defeated the whole purpose of decoration.

  “Oh, fine.” Derek glanced longingly through her bedroom door at the adjoining bathroom. “But do you mind...?”

  “I mind very much, big boy. You’re going to have to go home for that cold shower this time.”

  With a frown, Derek rolled from the bed and pushed his legs into his jeans, completely underwear free. She winced rather than admired when he shoved the material over his still-erect package, unwary of hair in the zippers and other potential mishaps. Ah, the untried hazards of youth.

  “I thought you were cool, Kendra.”

  “Excuse me?” She paused in the act of scooping up a handful of playing cards.

  The surprise in her tone must have carried well, because he scowled and shoved his bare feet into his tennis shoes, heedless of the fungal organisms nesting near his toes. “You know what I mean,” he said uncomfortably. “You sold yourself as a good time. No strings attached. I had to bum a ride all the way out here.”

  She didn’t move, unsure if she was hearing things correctly. “Are you...asking me for cab fare right now?”

  “Of course not,” he mumbled.

  “I don’t believe this.” Except, based on the past twenty-four hours of her life, she kind of did. Reluctantly, she rummaged in her purse until she fished out a bill big enough to send the man halfway across the state. “Even if you had rocked my world ten different ways, I’m not in the habit of paying for sex.”

  “I could make it worth your while.” He took the proffered bill and tucked it in his pocket, looking hopeful.

  “What you’ll do to earn that money is go outside, walk to the convenience store on the corner and get a taxi. You won’t call me. You won’t stop by my house unannounced. And you definitely won’t break in again. Do we understand one another?” He opened his mouth to protest, but she stopped him with one hand. “I still have all your ID information from the other night—and so does my friend, Whitney. Please don’t make us use it.”

  The tough-love approach wasn’t Kendra’s favorite method of breaking up with a guy, but she wasn’t in the mood to soothe egos right now. Especially not egos that had just cost her fifty bucks.

  “Oh, I should probably mention that your mom called.” He snapped his fingers, as if just remembering. “I didn’t mean to answer, but your phone kept ringing.”

  Derek looked so chagrined at the confession that Kendra couldn’t find it in her to be irritated. She couldn’t find it in her to be anything where he was concerned. Too many other men were crowding her synapses right now.

  “It’s not your fault. My mother doesn’t believe in leaving messages. She’ll keep calling every five minutes until one of the neighbors gives in and breaks down the door. What’d she want?”

  “Something about a girl named Nikki getting in over her head with a troublesome boyfriend. And she asked a lot of nosy questions about my job.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t answer any of them.”

  “She was very persistent.”

  Perfect. If there was one thing her mother hated more than the idea of her oldest daughter dating a going-nowhere musician with an attitude problem...nope. That was it. That was the thing her mother hated most.

  “I’m sorry the timing didn’t work out better,” she said, meaning it. And then, not meaning it, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Derek left, practically hopping down her front steps, which sparkled with their recent washing. Although he hurried away without once looking back, she took a moment to enjoy the low sling of his jeans on his hips and the tiny crack of perky glutes that flashed when his shirt lifted a few inches.

  It seemed anticlimactic to gather up a bunch of board games and her fully charged iPod for Lincoln’s entertainment after that. Although no one could have accused her of being uncaring, she wasn’t in the habit of putting other people’s pleasures before her own—at least not like this. No one would have been bothered if she’d taken an extra fifteen minutes before returning to Noah’s wilderness retreat. They probably wouldn’t have even noticed.

  But I don’t want Derek. He was pretty to look at, nice enough to kiss, but he wasn’t...well, there was no point in pretending, was there? He wasn’t Noah. One day with the mountain man for company and she’d fallen head over heels in lust with him. Only his wood would do.

  The idea wasn’t as bizarre as it seemed. She had a way of viewing any challenge in terms of obstacles to overcome, as a series of lists and charts and feasible goals. When she’d decided, a few years back, that she was tired of playing second fiddle to the men in her life, she’d devised an ironclad way to redefine herself. Look the part, feel the part, be the part. She looked secure, so she felt secure. She felt secure, so she was secure.

  Unfortunately—as her mother could attest—there seemed to be something about that combination that repelled men. Oh, not the kind of men who wanted to stay for the night, like Derek. And not the kind of men who turned her into some kind of trophy, like Lincoln. But the real men? The loyal men? The good men?

  Please. She’d been better off in the love department back when she’d been a hot mess of a human being. In this world, it was either find love or find yourself.

  She’d chosen herself, and this was where it got her. Alone. About to head out to the woods to play nurse. Intent on wooing a man who had already made it abundant
ly clear he didn’t want her.

  Picking up her pace, she gathered the rest of the things Lincoln might need for a long recovery in the boonies—her favorite organic shampoo, a few paperback mysteries, her secret stash of painkillers—and tossed the items into an oversized canvas back.

  Almost as an afterthought, she plucked a bottle from her wine rack and changed into a blue sheath dress with glittery beads along the bodice.

  What? She was no Florence Nightingale.

  * * *

  “It is too cheating to keep an extra five hundred under the board.” Kendra crossed her arms and refused to roll the dice. “I only gave you that sweet deal on Park Place because I thought you were broke.”

  “Find where it says in the rules that my money has to be visible at all times,” Lincoln said. “Oh, wait—you can’t. Because it’s not there.”

  “House rules trump game rules.”

  “Too bad it’s not your house.”

  “Too bad it’s not yours either.”

  Both sets of eyes turned toward Noah. He raised his hands and backed away from the table. “Don’t look at me. I suggested Yahtzee.”

  He left Kendra and Lincoln glaring at one another over the kitchen table while he tended to the dishes. As a man who lived as alone as a human being possibly could, he was surprised at how well he was adapting to his two belligerent houseguests. Granted, Lincoln had slept the better part of the afternoon away while Kendra hunted down supplies, but there had been something comforting about cooking a meal for more than just one.

  There had been a time—not so long ago—when dinner for three would have been a slow night for him, a step down from his usual whirlwind of activity. Corporate dinners, an endless stream of smiling faces, business cards exchanged and private numbers scrawled on the back. Even if he hadn’t always loved the fast pace of that lifestyle, his routine had revolved around other people, and he’d always been able to make room for them.