MrBigStuff-epub

by RG Alexander

  “Caroline, my girl, what do you think? Does she look good there or should she be more to the left?”

  She walked up the steps of the gazebo and bent down to kiss his forehead. “She’s fine, Daddy. She looked fine on the other side of the Koi pond too. What made you decide to move your sculptures around today?”

  He smiled and gripped her hand with his. “I’ve been wanting to do it for years. They haven’t been rearranged once since I made them for the garden. Finally had a visitor who didn’t look like he would throw out his back picking up the darn things. Besides, we had to do something while we were waiting for your fashionably late arrival.”

  She made a face. “Traffic.” She bit her lip when she heard Jefferson’s booted steps behind her. “I’m sorry, I had no idea. I should have called.”

  Jefferson’s arm grazed her back lightly when he moved around her to reach for a glass of iced tea on the table and something in the pit of her stomach fluttered. “Gentlemen don’t mind waiting for a lady. Especially when the conversation is so amusing.”

  Her father chuckled. “I’m not as entertaining as I used to be. No one knows that better than my daughter. I’d be willing to bet she wishes she hadn’t agreed to write my life story.”

  “You’d lose that bet.”

  He tugged her arm and gestured to the empty seat beside him. “Caroline, I was telling him a few stories about that stunt coordinator on his show.”

  Jefferson took a large gulp of his tea and sighed in satisfaction. “And I’m forever in your debt, sir. I thought that man was born with a stick up his backside that made him mean and ornery. Now when I see him again all I’ll be able to think about is—”

  “Banana cream pie,” both men said at once, her father cackling so hard he started to choke.

  Caroline sat down and handed him his drink. “Looks like I missed all the fun.”

  All the fun my father is having with Jefferson Adams, the man whose fingerprints are still on my skin. The man I invited to my bed but not my father’s house. The one I was going to avoid until we were safe at the crowded wedding.

  She supposed she should be glad they weren’t laughing about her. The only stories her father loved to share more than his career anecdotes were embarrassing tales about her childhood.

  Setting his own glass down, her father attempted to get to his feet. Before Caroline could help Jefferson was there with a smile, his hand on her father’s elbow until he found his balance.

  “Thank you, son. Let me stretch my legs and I’ll get Sylvie to bring us out something to eat. Do you have time before the shoot?”

  “For food? Always,” Jefferson assured him, watching him with sharp eyes as he carefully descended the steps.

  Caroline waited until her father and his companion disappeared before she slapped her things on the table and stood to face him. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

  Jefferson took a step closer and reached up to trace the neckline of her sundress with one callused finger. Caroline shivered. Her body reacted instantly, craving his touch. “Sweet Caroline,” he murmured. “There are so many reasons I should make you a list.”

  “Funny. Start with one.” She hated the way her voice softened. She should be angry. He’d been drunk in a pool less than twenty-four hours ago, and now he was clean shaven and clear eyed and ingratiating himself with her father.

  He licked his lower lip, his fingers still tracing patterns on her skin. “I was in the neighborhood? Not that’s a lie. I did want to tell you I got a new cell phone and called my sister. I also listened to all my messages. Good thing, because the photographer decided to change his schedule on me.”

  “Photographer? More publicity shots?” She wished he would stop touching her. Wished she could take a step back and break the spell.

  “Fashion photographer.” He quirked his lips as he said the words, his finger hooking around one thin strap on her shoulder and dragging it down. “They think my buckle can sell some jeans. I agreed to it months ago. Standing for pictures seemed easier than acting like I’m someone else, so I turned down the movie and took the clothing line.”

  He’d been offered a role in a movie? She sighed. Of course he had. “That’s…that’s nice, Jefferson. It doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

  She watched his eyes drop to her breasts, knew her hard nipples were pressing against the thin lemon fabric, revealing her arousal. “I’m here because you’re here, Caroline. The shoot is in a few hours and I want you there with me. For moral support. When it’s done, I’ll follow you home.”

  Moral support? “Whose home?”

  Two fingers slid under the fabric, the back of his knuckles scraping across one peaked nipple. “Your choice. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things we left unfinished last night. Me, for example. Wherever we end up, I can promise you that no one is leaving for a while. Possibly days.”

  Yes.

  No! No, she’d told herself this wasn’t a good idea. “Okay.”

  Weak, Caroline. You could’ve at least pretended to think about it. “I mean, okay I’ll go with you to the photographer’s. I know how intimidating that can be.”

  He removed his fingers, adjusted her dress and took a step back with a smile. He knew what she meant. “That’s good. I like your father, by the way. He’s smart and funny as hell.”

  That made her smile. “He’s the best man I know. When he’s not manipulating my friends into lifting heavy objects.” She tried to lighten the mood so she wouldn’t think about what he was going to do to her tonight. “You definitely impressed him. Does that have anything to do with my list?”

  “Reminding me of that list is asking for trouble,” he warned softly, but his full lips tilted in a smile that deepened his ridiculous dimples. “But you caught me. What can I say? Two birds…one giant fairy stone. And a troll. And something that looks like a mushroom with eyes.”

  She laughed. “When he took a sculpture class he remembered that I always wanted a fairy garden. He’s not a small gestures kind of man.”

  “You’re not a small gestures kind of woman.”

  Her father came out then, followed by Sylvie carrying a platter. There were three kinds of cheese, warm French bread, prosciutto, grapes and hummus as well as apple and peppered salami slices. David Aaron loved his garden picnics. Since he had a difficult time digesting anything heavier, Caroline had gotten used to them as well.

  Jefferson popped a grape into his mouth as they sat down together. “This looks delicious.”

  “By that he means where’s the steak,” Sylvie responded in her straight-faced croak. “I told him you can’t feed a growing boy with cheese and crackers, but he’s a creature of habit. We only shop on Sundays after a morning of coupon clipping and this is all we have.”

  Caroline caught the wink he threw at her father’s nurse. “This will do for now, ma’am. I have to take my shirt off in public later. I wouldn’t want them changing their minds and ripping up my contract.”

  Sylvie lifted one eyebrow. “I think you’re safe.”

  The straight delivery made Caroline chuckle around an apple slice. “Jeans, huh? Daddy, did Jefferson tell you he turned down a movie to model jeans?”

  Her father nodded. “Of course he did, he’s a smart man. Acting is a calling. The best actors I ever worked with said it wasn’t a choice, it was who they were. Jefferson already knows who he is. A businessman, a landowner and a brother. From the show we all know he can take a fall and climb back up on his horse. He’s not one to let flattery fool him or get blinded by the spotlight and lose his way.”

  Not like she did, Caroline could have finished for him. He hadn’t talked about his younger sister since they’d started recording his personal history for the book, but they would have to eventually. Her aunt’s suicide had had an enormous impact on his life and his career. It happened when Caroline was eighteen, years ago, but it was still a raw wound for both of them.

  She reached out and covered h
is hand. “I think you’re right.”

  When she turned her head Jefferson was watching her closely. Those ice-green eyes cut through her, making her feel like he could see more than he should be able to. She felt his knee press against her thigh under the table, and he popped a slice of the thin prosciutto into his mouth and chewed. How could he make chewing sexy? Chewing was not sexy, damn it.

  “Your Caroline has agreed to come with me to the photo shoot. I’m glad you told me about her modeling experience.”

  “You did?” Her jaw dropped and she looked to her father for confirmation. “Daddy, you didn’t.”

  “He guessed.” David shrugged helplessly. “Look at you, sweetheart. Who wouldn’t guess that?”

  She’d modeled for a teen line in the eighties. They were some of the most frightening neon skirt and teased hair glamour shots that existed on the planet and she’d begged him on more than one occasion to bury them in his garden. “You didn’t take out the pictures to show him, did you? Tell me you didn’t.”

  “He tried.” Sylvie chimed in. “I managed to redirect them to the garden.”

  “Bless you.”

  Jefferson huffed a soft laugh, his arm was resting on the table with his palm up inches from her arm and Caroline had to resist the desire to slip her hand in his. “I’m sure I’ll get another chance before we leave for the wedding.”

  “Yes, the wedding.” David’s smile grew wide. “Jefferson, you have to come back before you leave. I have something special I was working on for your sister since I’m not up to the flight. She’s a wonderful girl, that Trudy. A voice like an angel and Caroline’s best friend. I hope this John Brown is good enough for her.”

  Jefferson’s dimples deepened. “Big John is definitely a good man, sir. I’m not being humble when I say he made Troublemaker sauce the success it is today, and saved our land and my bacon more than a time or two when I was too young to know better. The truth is he loves her. Always has. He was just waiting for her to come home and find out.”

  Caroline’s heart melted at his words. Even Sylvie smiled while her father nodded briskly to hide his emotion. “That’s how it was with Caroline’s mother. I met her in grade school and chased her all the way through college. She kept me waiting for a long time, but my persistence paid off. She finally agreed to marry me the week I got my first job on set.” He pointed at Caroline. “I tell this one all the time that if it’s worth having it’s worth waiting for, but she was born early and she’s been impatient ever since.”

  Jefferson smiled for her father, but she could feel him staring at her again. “Impatience is something we have in common. Speaking of, we should get going. Thank you for letting me steal her for the day. I’m hoping she’ll help me get through this without making a fool of myself.”

  Caroline could have begged off. She could have stayed and continued her visit with her dad instead of nodding agreeably and rising to her feet. She kissed her father’s forehead again and wiped the trace of her lip-gloss away with her thumb. “I’m sorry this visit was so short.”

  He waved off her concern. “Go. Sylvie and I have big plans tonight.”

  “We live dangerously.” Sylvie reached for one of the last pieces of cheese. “Though some unimaginative people call it cable television.”

  She watched Jefferson take off his hat, shake her father’s hand and nod to Sylvie with a grin. Then his warm palm was on her lower back and he was leading her through the house and out the front door with his long-legged stride.

  “I’ll put the address into your GPS and you’ll follow me in your car.” There was no pretense of that being a question.

  “Yes, sir,” she sassed, saluting. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than stand around for hours watching you flash those dimples for the camera.”

  He’d opened the driver’s side door for her and his hand slid down from her back to cup one ass cheek. He had to know how sensitive she was. “I thought you had a vivid imagination, Caroline. You can think of one or two things you’d rather be doing with me. That’s why I knew you’d come.”

  Oh, God, could she.

  “I know I can,” he murmured against her temple before he let her go and leaned into her car to type in the address to the studio. “My imagination’s been working overtime since last night. You’d be proud of me. I made a list of positions and everything.”

  She really wished he hadn’t said that. She wasn’t going to be able to think about anything else.

  Chapter Five

  The hand Jefferson wasn’t holding was curled, her nails digging into her palm as she resisted the urge to show her claws. He hadn’t told her he wasn’t the only one being photographed. Five women scantily clad in strips of denim pretending to be shorts, cowboy boots and little else were wandering around the studio with matching expressions of bruised, doll-eyed, emaciated boredom.

  If it were any other day, she would have enjoyed the view. There were women exactly like this at her regular club. There were women like this around every corner in Los Angeles. They never bothered her. Even at forty-five she could give the starving eighteen-year-olds a run for their money. She could get the man and the cheeseburger and satisfy all her appetites with no regrets.

  But today they were getting on her nerves. The women looked between her and Jefferson with expressions that did more than border on insulting. If one of them opened a pouty red mouth to ask if she was his mom, she would not be held responsible for what came next.

  Jefferson was frowning. She wondered if he sensed it too.

  “Terry?” he called to the photographer. “I thought we decided on a new direction for the shoot.”

  The short, bald man glanced up from his camera equipment in surprise. “What? Jeff, good, you’re here.” He smiled apologetically as he looked around at the Daisy Duke cheerleading squad and the bales of hay in front of a white screen. “Yes, I remember. I merely thought we’d try out both directions and see which one those people in marketing feel will sell the most pairs of Troublemaker jeans.”

  Troublemaker jeans? Caroline managed to turn her face before rolling her eyes.

  “That’s not what they’re called.” Jefferson must have sensed her reaction. “And my name isn’t Jeff. It’s Jefferson. I appreciate your desire to please the folks in advertising, but my contract is clear. I have artistic authority in how my brand, I believe that’s what they call it, is portrayed. And this version of pornographic Hee-Haw is not my brand.”

  Caroline snorted. Loudly. It was a rare occurrence and wasn’t incredibly dignified, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Terry ran his hand over his smooth head with a sigh. “You’re right, of course. I apologize.” He tilted his head to study Caroline. “Is this her?”

  “Who?” Caroline took a step back and Jefferson’s hand squeezed hers firmly.

  “Yes. This is Caroline Aaron.”

  “The gossip columnist?” A spark of interest flared in the photographer’s eyes as he looked closer.

  “Not anymore.” Caroline had lost her interest in invading stranger’s private lives in La Grange. That story had hit too close to home.

  “I had no idea she was so…” He gestured toward her as if that finished his sentence for him.

  “Exactly.” Jefferson’s smile was arrogant, despite his dimples. “She’s all we’ll need. Did you get the dress I sent?”

  He motioned over his shoulder, still staring at Caroline. “In the makeup room with the paperwork. I’ll send the other models home while you two are getting ready.”

  Dread hit her stomach like a ball of icy steel as Jefferson dragged her toward the back of the studio. “He means while you get ready, right?”

  “We’re getting ready.”

  This was not happening. “I’m not a model. I’m not a reality star. This isn’t like getting pictures at the mall, Jefferson. This is serious.”

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” His accent thickened sarcastically. “I’ll admit I was a mite confused as
to where I was.”

  She tugged on her hand but he wouldn’t release her. “I’m not kidding, Jefferson. They won’t appreciate you wasting their money with film they can’t use. It’s irresponsible.”

  He strode into the makeup room and smiled at the two blushing women organizing their concealer and eye shadow. “I’m so sorry to barge in on you lovely ladies like this,” he started smoothly, his smile disarming, “but would y’all mind giving us ten minutes of privacy to change? My woman is shy.”

  They left with a breathless obedience that Caroline didn’t blame them for. He had charm. She couldn’t deny he had charm. “I am not shy.”

  And I’m not your woman!

  He closed the door with one hand and pushed her against the wall with the other, his palm skimming her breast before his fingers climbed up to curve around the base of her throat. “I know. I’m trying to be that career-minded man on your list and fulfill my obligations, but I’ve got to tell you, all I can think about is getting you in my arms. I thought this way I could do both.”

  His thumb caressed the pulse pounding at the base of her throat. “They tell me I’m supposed to pull off ‘hungry’ and ‘passionate’ in this layout. Because hungry sells. I told you I’m no actor, Caroline. But I don’t want to let these good people down. That’s where you come in. I’ve already told them you’ve got modeling experience and that I’ll fly back for free if they aren’t completely satisfied. If that’s irresponsible, then there you have it. That’s what I am. But I know you’re the right fit for this and I need you.” He bent his knees to look up into her eyes. “My sister says you’re always there to help a friend in need. Will you help me, Caroline?”

  “Jesus, you’re good,” she breathed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” His eyes sparkled mischievously but his smile disappeared. “Now unzip your dress.”