by Kelly, Liz
“Stop on by the house tomorrow,” her father said to Duncan as they headed off. “We’ll talk more football during the Rose Bowl.”
“Will do, Mr. Devine. Thanks.” Duncan let Annabelle lead him away. He didn’t know why she and her family were letting him get away with impersonating an officer so easily, but the fact that they had lulled him into a wonderful sense of security.
Met the parents. Check. Met the tough, gun-toting sister. Check. The night had hardly begun and Duncan felt buoyant having managed his perceived mine field so quickly and easily. His ego was puffed up and in full riot gear when Annabelle stopped him far short of the two very secluded seats he was spying at the far end of the bar. “And this is my sister, Tess,” she announced.
Tess.
Beautiful. Vibrant. Sultry, bedroom-eyed Tess.
Who was also, very obviously––if not to Annabelle, then at least to himself––pissed off at the world, Tess.
The daggers her chocolate brown eyes shot at Duncan ripped his riot gear apart and had his ego lying at her tiny, little high-heeled feet.
Seated on a tall chair at the center of the bar and draped in wine red, Tess’ lush and curvaceous body was turned sideways, her slender arm dangling over the back of the chair. A large cuff of sparkling diamonds circled her wrist as she pointed directly at his heart. He wasn’t certain daggers weren’t going to shoot from her fingertip as well.
“Dun-can Jaaames,” she sung at him. “Man among men! Infamous,” she pronounced. “Tell me, Duncan James, with your GQ hairstyle and your thousand-dollar tuxedo,” she said, swirling her pointed finger all around him. “How is it, exactly,” she said as her eyes narrowed, “that you are able to give my baby sister an outrageous speeding ticket in the afternoon, and then dare to have your hands all over her at our father’s party tonight?”
So much for not stepping on a fucking land mine.
“Don’t mind, Tess,” Annabelle said turning toward him with a light-hearted smile. “She has a wonderful sense for the dramatic. Which serves her really well in all her roles on Broadway. Doesn’t it, Tess?”
Tess threw Annabelle a sarcastic grin.
“Since she’s the one Devine sister without a date tonight, it appears she’s taking her frustration out on you. I’m guessing she’s been imagining Lewis Kampmueller’s hands all over her during their kiss at midnight. Am I right?”
Tess turned back to the bar and lifted her drink. “At least we know he’s a good kisser,” she said before taking a gulp. “Who knows about Officer Friendly there.”
Duncan slipped his arm around Annabelle’s waist and looked down into her pretty brown eyes. “She’s got you there.” Then he lifted his attention to the back of Tess’ head. “His bank statement beats the hell out of mine as well, but I guess you Devine sisters aren’t worried about all that. However….” He took a step toward Tess, bringing Annabelle with him so he could whisper in Tess’ ear. “It’s my understanding that the highly respected Mr. Kampmueller is interested in only one of the Devine sisters tonight. Forgive me for saying this, Tess, but you’re not the one he’s picturing getting his hands on at midnight.”
Tess turned her head sideways and gave him her first honest smile. “Grace has always been the one he thinks he’s in love with,” she said kindly, showing her true feelings about Lewis. “And if Annabelle and I have our way again this year, he’ll be kissing the one he wants come midnight. Michael-schmichael.”
“Grace’s date,” Annabelle explained.
“Ah. A stumbling block for Lewis.”
“Perhaps,” Tess said. “We’ll have to see how it all works out.” Then she waved them away, a queen dismissing her court.
With a hand on the small of her back, Duncan directed Annabelle to the farthest two bar chairs tucked close to the back wall of the room. “Your father seems awfully relaxed for a man who has three gorgeous daughters,” he said.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” Annabelle responded as he helped her into the last chair. It was an intentional move. Duncan hoped that his body would block her from view for a while. He was as social as the next guy, but having survived the last half hour, he needed a breather before encountering any more family or friends. Besides, he thought as he took a serious look at the elegance settling herself beside him, he needed all the time he could get to make a lasting impression on this particularly beautiful Devine sister. He wanted a second date on the books by the end of the night.
“So what’s your drink, Annabelle?”
“Bourbon and Ginger Ale.”
“Is that right? A true Southern belle.”
“Uh-huh. And how ’bout yourself?”
“Beer, generally,” he said. But when the bartender stepped toward them he ordered, “Two tequila shots.”
The young, dark-headed bartender stopped dead in his tracks. From the expression on his face he was obviously trying to figure something out. “You want them with the cut-up limes and a shaker of salt?”
“That’d be good,” Duncan nodded. “First night on the job?”
A magical smile lit up the young man’s face. “Something like that,” he said. “Two shots, coming right up.”
“Tequila shots?” Annabelle threw Duncan a sideways glance.
“Hey. Midnight rolls around and I’m lucky enough to be kissing you, I want you just tipsy enough that you aren’t comparing me to Lewis Kampmueller.”
Annabelle burst out laughing. “Are you actually worried about outshining Lewis in the kissing department?”
Hell yes! “No.”
Annabelle leaned her shoulder over and nudged him in the arm. “Really?”
He wobbled his head from side to side, causing her to grin. At least it looked like a grin from his peripheral vision. At the moment, he found himself unable to face her. What if he didn’t kiss better than Lewis?
Jesus, he cursed at himself. Man up, dude.
As the bartender arranged the shots in front of them, Annabelle noticed his name tag. “Your name’s Harry?”
“That’s right,” he said, wiping his hands on the towel tucked into his waistband. He held out his hand to Annabelle and the cuff of his white shirt pulled up. Duncan noticed a tattoo on his wrist. It looked like a quiver holding six arrows.
“Harry,” she nodded, taking his hand and shaking it. “That’s a good name. My father’s name in fact.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded. “Harry, would you bring another round of shots when you have a chance? Sounds like Mr. James needs help with his performance anxiety.”
Duncan slapped his hand on the bar, turned his head and laid a disbelieving stare on Annabelle. He could hear the mirth Bartender Harry tried to smother as he headed off to do her bidding, but he didn’t take his eyes from the one he wanted now more than ever. God, he could never have conjured up all the perfect pieces that made up this woman. The same thought he’d had hours before rang out clearly in his mind.
I have found you.
He had. He knew it. And maybe, just maybe, Annabelle Devine knew it too. Because without a doubt, she had just thrown down the gauntlet…and he was more than willing to pick it up.
Duncan nodded his chin at the set of shot glasses. “Let’s see who has performance anxiety.”
Annabelle’s eyes sparkled as she turned her attention to the tequila. Duncan followed just a split second behind as they licked the skin between their finger and thumb, poured on the salt, licked it clean, downed the shot, and then bit into the wedge of lime. He was certain the grimace on her face was far worse than his own.
He wiped his lips with the back of a hand while The Keeper dabbed hers with a cocktail napkin. It reminded him of something. “Pretty impressive. Where did you develop your expertise?”
“Tequila Shoot-Out. Zate House. Fall semester, sophomore year.”
“Ah.” Duncan nodded knowingly. “Wild night?”
“Can’t say for sure. But nothing ended up on Facebook, so except for the insane hangover
the next day, I think I made it through relatively unscathed.”
“Miss Manners. At a tequila shoot-out.” He tried to imagine Annabelle the debutante coed.
“But you’re more than a book on manners, you know. You are gracious.”
“Thank you. Isn’t that one and the same?”
“Not at all,” he stalled while Bartender Harry and his quiver full of arrows set up a second round. “For instance,” he went on quietly as the bartender moved away, “our young friend here offered his hand to you. You know that a book of etiquette says a gentleman never offers his hand to a lady, but waits to have her hand offered to him,” he said drawing on his own cotillion experience. “And yet you don’t stand on principal. You shook his hand without pause.”
“Well, of course. Otherwise it would have created a terribly awkward moment.”
“Exactly my point. You were gracious. You are gracious.”
She fed him a brilliant smile, and leaned in closer. “And you are going to get a hell of a kiss come midnight.”
Oh, I’ll be getting more than a kiss, he promised himself, glancing at his watch discreetly. Maybe the tequila had already started talking. More likely it was Annabelle’s easy humor and the way his body simmered in a state of rapt attention wherever she touched him. And, he noted, she was touching him a lot. But most likely, it was the mounting anticipation of getting his hands on the bare flesh of all those curves covered in just the sheerest of fabrics––so sheer he swore he saw the dark coloration of the tips of her beasts when he dared allow his glance to go there. In his mind, she wore nothing underneath that dress, and he was starting to get just a little desperate to find out if he was right. Hell with a damn kiss at midnight. He wanted some time alone with Miss Devine and he wanted it as soon as he could get it.
Chapter Six
The bar area with its masculine wood architecture and hunter green accents had filled up nicely, and the conversations which ensued created a lovely warm hum that had Annabelle sinking cozily into their little twosome at the far end of the bar. Her body was now turned sideways in her seat, her back literally against the wall. Duncan’s frame had likewise turned towards her, and his broad shoulders and taller height blocked her vision of any guest coming or going. It was perfect.
It was perfect how her knees fit between his and how his inner thighs would brush against her outer thighs as the two of them conversed with an extraordinary amount of animation. It was perfect how his arm laid along the back of her chair, and his fingers would stroke her bare skin from time to time. His touch created the perfect little goosebumps on the outside of her skin and the perfect blast of heat that ran itself ragged on the inside. But the most perfect thing of all was the moment right after their second shot, when they laughed and caught each other’s happy gaze. The world around them stopped, going quiet. That moment…that perfect moment…when their lips were only inches apart and her heartbeat pounded in her ears, when Duncan laced his fingers with hers and brought her hand up, turning it slowly, and placed a kiss on the sensitive skin of the inside of her wrist.
It was romantic and subtle and stole her heart. And it was then that Annabelle realized she had better get to know a little more about her Officer Friendly if she was going to go home and announce to her sisters that she planned to marry Duncan James.
“So growing up in Richmond, you decided to go to NC State?”
“I didn’t have the grades to get into Chapel Hill. I figured it was the next best thing. And don’t laugh, Little Miss North Carolina. In the end, it truly was the right place for me. I met Brooks and Vance and we formed a close-knit group, bonding over our college experience. We shared a lot of good times. But more than that, they always had my back. And they still do today. Best thing that ever happened to me.”
Annabelle loved the way he spoke about his friends and their solid relationship. “But you went to UNC for law school?”
“Well,” Duncan said, eyeing her over a sip of water, “I’m stupid but I ain’t crazy.” She laughed. “I set my sights on law school at Carolina before I set foot on campus at NC State. I like the south, and staying in North Carolina kept me closer to home. So, my goal was to get straight A’s because I was not going to be turned down again.”
“And you got them.”
“I got them,” he acknowledged.
“So are you a hard worker or are you just that smart?”
“Well, now.” He leaned in close, his light Southern accent noticeably heavier. “I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”
Annabelle bit her lip, trying not to show the pleasure that his answer gave her. “Well, unless you majored in drama, I’d say playing the part of Officer Friendly today was pretty hard work.”
“But gettin’ you to insist I be your escort tonight…now that was brilliant.” He flashed an arrogant grin before adding, “And thanks for goin’ easy on me about all that, by the way.”
A pang of guilt about what had really gone down threatened to intrude, but Annabelle shoved it away. Things were going too well to jeopardize the evening with a confession. “Am I detecting a slightly heavier Southern drawl?”
Duncan sat back with his arms crossed over his chest, grinning broadly. With each word he sat up a little straighter and moved in a little closer. “I’m pretty certain that a couple of tequila shots and a pretty Southern belle could reduce me to sounding a lot more like Redneck One and Redneck Two than usual.”
“Brooks and Vance?”
“You catch on quick.”
“Those two are sort of celebrities around here.”
“And don’t I know it. They took State to three College World Series. Won one of them on a no-hitter from Brooks. Man, those guys could play.”
“So how is it you knew you wanted to go to law school before you even started college?”
“No choice in that.” Duncan shrugged. “I was born to it. My dad is a criminal defense attorney, and if that’s not bad enough, my mother is a judge.”
“Your mother is a judge?” Annabelle exclaimed wide-eyed.
“That’s right. And we aren’t talking Judge Judy, although at home she settled our disagreements about the same way, I suppose.”
“You have brothers and sisters?” Annabelle asked, finding all of this fascinating.
“Three sisters and one brother. I’m the oldest. Then the girls––Molly, Lacey and Abigail. Then Jesse.”
“Your brother’s name is Jesse James?” When Duncan nodded, Annabelle laughed so hard she snorted.
“Oh my God, that’s the first unladylike thing I’ve seen you do,” Duncan said, grinning from ear to ear. “You are a mere mortal after all, aren’t you?”
“I am indeed,” she agreed. “Seriously, Jesse James?”
“My parents might be lawyers, but they are lawyers with a sense of humor. And they probably needed a good reminder of that when kid number five arrived.”
“Annabelle!” A deep-pitched baritone from the other end of the bar caused Duncan to turn. Annabelle probably wouldn’t have noticed it––so enthralled with the man in front of her––but following Duncan’s lead, she looked down the bar as tall, blond and long-ago heartthrob, Stubs McKenna started to call her name again.
“Anna— Oh, there you are,” Stubs said as he spied her down the way. He pointed his finger at her and started muscling his way through the crowd gathered at the bar to get to them.
Duncan’s disgruntled protest gave her great satisfaction as she assured him this would only take a minute. With eyes only for Annabelle, Stubs landed a heavy hand on Duncan’s shoulder, only acknowledging him with a quick “Hey, Bud,” before shoving his head in the space between Duncan and herself to plant a big ol’ kiss on her cheek. Annabelle was pretty sure she saw her date stiffen. Another boost to her feminine pride. “Come on now,” Stubs said, holding out his hand, “the band is kicking serious ass. Why are you crammed back here in the corner? You know you’re my go-to gal on the dance floor.”
Duncan, whose a
rms were crossed over his chest, glanced down at Stub’s big hand sitting on his shoulder, then up into Stubs’ face as he blurted all this out. Then he rolled his eyes dramatically toward Annabelle, giving her a direct look that said, “You have got to be kidding me.”
She winked and held up one finger to Duncan, seeking a little patience. “Well, bless your heart, Stubs,” she started, turning her full attention to the man. “How thoughtful of you to come find me when there are so many other pretty girls just dying for you to ask them to dance. In fact,” she went on, turning Stubs’ attention where she wanted it, “Katherine Stuart was asking about you the moment she arrived. See her over there, just out in the hallway?” She gave him a little push in the right direction. “Now you be the gentleman and go on and give that girl a thrill.”
Annabelle and Duncan watched as Stubs ambled away. “Well, I’ll be,” Duncan whispered, then turned his attention back to Annabelle. “It was like you put that lummox in a trance and he didn’t have the capability not to follow your orders.”
She took a sip of water. “Oh, he’s just a big ol’ sweetheart. Probably didn’t even realize he was intruding. Now, where were we?”
Duncan took her hand in his and bounced it up and down. “You know, I was thinking,” he said, “you were probably an undergraduate while I was in law school at Carolina. We were on the same campus. I wonder if our paths ever crossed.”
“I highly doubt it,” Annabelle scoffed. “Sounds like you were probably in the law library, and I have to admit, I was rarely in any library at all. I did not go to college to make the dean’s list, much to my parents’ chagrin.”
“Is that so?” Duncan’s expression was priceless. A combination of amusement and wonder.
“Well, of course I wanted a good education, and I got it. My only redeeming academic achievement is that I never ever missed a class. Which I repeatedly pointed out to my father whenever he started ranting and raving about my grades and the cost of tuition. I assured him I was getting his money’s worth, and I did. More than most students, because I filled every hour with a group or club. There were just too many enticing activities and too much stuff to learn to justify spending more than the minimal amount of time necessary studying for tests.”