Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance)

by Sarah Mayberry

  He forced himself to turn away, to take one step, then another, then another. Soon he was across the room, someone handed him a piece of cake and he was agreeing that the music had been very interesting and surprisingly moving. He forced himself to count to twenty before he looked at her, for dignity’s sake. For appearances, because he didn’t want to embarrass Vivian or expose himself more than he already had.

  God forbid his pride might take a pummeling, after all. Not when it was all he had left.

  What he saw made everything in him go very still.

  Jodie had flagged down a server with a tray of tea and coffee. She passed a cup to Vivian, who reached out to accept it, but her hands were trembling so much that she sent tea sloshing over the brim. For the briefest of moments, her composure cracked, her brow furrowing, her chin wobbling. Jodie acted quickly, relieving her of the cup, leaning close to say something. Vivian nodded, then Jodie glanced across the room.

  Straight at him.

  She looked away again almost immediately, but there had been so much emotion in that single look that Seth felt seared.

  Fierce protectiveness. Frustration. Accusation. Sadness.

  And it had been directed at him, by Jodie, on behalf of Vivian.

  “Seth, help me out here—what’s the name of Lola’s friend from the call center? The little dark-haired one?” Dennis said at his elbow.

  Seth blinked, wrenching his gaze from the tableau across the room. He had to force himself to focus on the other man, then he had to prod himself to remember what Dennis had asked, because the bulk of his brain was busy trying to understand what he’d witnessed.

  “Bianca. Her name is Bianca,” he said absently.

  “Of course. And the other girl she’s with is Zara. It was good of them to come.”

  “Yes. Yes, it was.”

  “If you haven’t got plans this afternoon, I was thinking I might take Mel somewhere nice for lunch. You’d be welcome to join us. And Daisy, of course.”

  Seth frowned. This afternoon. He genuinely couldn’t think that far ahead. Not when his mind was so full of Vivian.

  The wobble of her chin.

  The tremble in her hands.

  The way Jodie had looked at him. As though she wanted to kick him. As though she wanted to hurt him.

  There were probably lots of reasons for Jodie to look at him like that. And Vivian might well have been upset by something said during the service. Everyone had commented on how emotional it was.

  She might also be upset because she’d spoken to him. Because he’d kissed her cheek and walked away.

  Because—maybe—she’d spent the past few days being bloody miserable as she stared down the barrel of a life that didn’t include him.

  Was it possible? Or was he simply clutching at straws, a desperate, drowning man?

  “I’m sorry, Dennis, but there’s something I need to do,” Seth said, already turning away.

  He was halfway there before he realized the object of his intent was missing. Jodie and Jason stood alone, their heads together in private conversation. Seth scanned the crowd, standing on his toes in order to see every corner. There was no flash of deep blue dress, no flare of strawberry-blond hair. Urgent, he made his way to his brother’s side.

  “Where’s Vivian?”

  Jodie started, one hand clutching at Jason’s arm. “You scared me.”

  “Where is she?” he asked again.

  “She had a headache. She went home,” Jason said.

  Seth’s gaze shot to the door. She must have slipped out while he was talking to Dennis. She could have been gone only a minute or two.

  He took off, not bothering with explanations. He had to catch Vivian.

  He erupted into the warm air, casting about for any sign of her. There was no one on the path to the main parking lot, and he spun to look in the opposite direction. Again, nothing, which meant he needed to guess and hope he got it right.

  He broke into a run, his suit jacket billowing behind him, his tie flying over his shoulder, fully aware that he could have this whole thing totally ass-about and that he might be about to expose himself in the worst possible way.

  He had no idea what Vivian’s true feelings were. She’d never given any indication that she wanted anything from him beyond great sex and a few laughs. She’d talked about things getting messy, but she’d never said she wanted more. Not from him anyway. Like him, she’d always been very careful to guard herself when they were together. She’d kept things light, and she’d met every riposte he sent her way with a witty sally of her own. She’d never once let him see the chinks in her armor, just as he’d never let her see the chinks in his.

  That was the way it had always been between them, right from the start. A battle of wills. A game. A dance. Parry, thrust, advance, retreat. Neither of them giving any ground. Neither of them showing any weakness.

  It had always been part of the fun. Part of the danger and challenge.

  It had also stopped them from talking about what they were to each other, what place they held in each other’s lives. God forbid they let their guards down. God forbid they show weakness or risk hurt. Not after ten years. Not when there was so much at stake.

  Potentially.

  He rounded the corner to the parking lot and caught sight of Vivian as she walked the final few feet to her car. She pulled her keys from her bag—

  “Vivian!”

  He put on a burst of speed as she glanced over her shoulder. She froze when she saw him, then slowly turned to face him. When he stopped in front of her, she reached out and wrapped her hand around the door handle.

  As though she needed the support.

  “Seth. Is something wrong?”

  She was utterly composed, a faint, slightly quizzical smile on her lips. Friendly, familiar, but not too familiar. Not too anything. If he hadn’t seen that moment with the tea, if her hand weren’t white-knuckle tight on the handle, he wouldn’t have suspected that something far less orderly and controlled might be going on beneath the surface.

  “There’s something I forgot to tell you. Something important,” he said. “That night, when we were talking about why I never settled down. I said it had never felt right, that I’d never met someone amazing enough, but that was a lie.”

  He studied her face, trying to get a read on her, aware of his heart threatening to beat its way out of his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was hopeful or terrified, maybe a bit of both, but he was beyond the point of no return.

  He’d sat in a room and said goodbye to a woman who should have lived a good, long life. He’d listened to her parents sob, and he’d paid witness to her mother’s painful regret. He was over being safe. He was over letting this particular woman walk away from him because to ask her to stop and stay might mean he was exposing himself utterly. Something Seth Anderson never did, because he was just too damn cool for that kind of vulnerability.

  So freaking cool it hurt.

  If he was about to crash and burn, so be it. He’d rather risk humiliation and rejection than go to his grave not having tried to seize this thing that had always lived between him and Vivian and turn it into everything it could be. Everything he wanted it to be.

  “It was a lie because it has felt right once in my life, but I was too young and too scared to acknowledge it. I met this girl at a wedding, you see—”

  Vivian closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping. “Seth.”

  She sounded broken. Defeated. But he wasn’t about to stop talking, not when he was knee-deep in his declaration.

  “She was the sexiest, hottest, wildest, smartest woman I’d ever laid eyes on, and when I kissed her it was like finding the other part of myself. But I was only twenty-four, and I was frankly terrified that I could feel that way so quickly about someone I’d just met. I figured I had my whole life ahead of me, that there would be other amazing women. Truckloads of them, since I was going to be a rock star.”

  She now watched him with a quiet intensity, waitin
g him out.

  “There never was, though, Vivian. No one else ever measured up. Never even came close, because none of them were you.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”

  “I should have said it years ago. I should have said it that night I tried to crawl into the sofa bed with you at Jason’s place. I should have said it every time I saw you for the past ten years. But I’ve always been stupid around you. I’ve always been scared of the way you make me feel. Of the way you make me want. Vivian, I freaking love you. And I honestly have no idea how you feel, but I really bloody hope you’re willing to give me a chance to prove to you that, despite appearances and a truly shitty track record and a life that’s pretty much a one-man disaster zone right now, I adore you.”

  He’d run out of words. All he could do was stand there and wait. The toughest, most raw seconds of his life.

  Vivian let go of the handle. Her eyes were as clear as the blue-green of ocean water as she took a step toward him. “I lied, too, Seth. I told you once that Franco was my one-that-got-away. But it’s always been you. Always.”

  “Jesus.” Relief was a blow to his solar plexus. He dragged her into his arms, foregoing any pretense at finesse as he kissed her so hard their teeth clashed. Her words were still ringing in his ears, but he couldn’t get close enough, needed the reassurance of her body against his. He pulled her closer, his fingers digging into her shoulders as the full import of what she’d said sunk in.

  She cared. She wanted this. She wanted them.

  “Seth.” She pulled back from their kiss, her face creasing into a frown as she looked at him. Then her expression softened, and she touched his cheek, which was when he realized he was crying.

  Like a big baby.

  “I love you.” She cupped his cheek and kissed his tears. “You don’t need these. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I know.” And he did, deep in his gut. He simply couldn’t believe how close he’d come—they’d come—to letting this slip away. “I guess I’m a little freaked by the close call.”

  Her eyes were bright with understanding. “Yeah, we like to run things down to the wire, don’t we? Such drama queens.” She hooked both her arms around his neck, her body warm again his from breast to knee. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride. You know that, right? There’s a lot of ego to wrangle between us. And a ton of attitude.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. Because he could. Because she’d declared herself his, and it would take a decade or two before that ceased to be a wonder to him.

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he said. Then it hit him that while it was one thing to acknowledge how they both felt, they weren’t exactly starting with a clean slate. “Daisy—”

  Vivian pressed a finger to his lips. “You don’t need to ask. She’s a part of you, which means I will always love her. I don’t pretend to be an expert on babies and children, but I can promise you that I already love her more than is wise. Holding your hand while we both make mistakes would be an honor, Seth. If you’re willing to trust me with your girl.”

  He swore under his breath and had to tip his head back to get a grip on his emotions. “Sweetheart, I’d trust you with my life. Ten times over.”

  They kissed, a long, slow, intense meeting of mouths and tongues, arms tight around one another. He could feel her heart beating, could feel the intensity of her emotions vibrating through her body, and knew she could feel his in turn.

  “No more lies,” he said when they came up for air. “No more bullshit to save face. No more trying to out-cool each other.”

  “Deal, my love. My Seth.” She smiled, a sweet, slightly wistful curve of her mouth. “Do you have any idea how many years I’ve wanted to say that to you?”

  “No. But you can tell me later, when I take you home.”

  And he kissed her again, because the sun was shining, and they’d finally found each other, and they were alive, with a lifetime of adventures and challenges ahead of them.

  Which pretty much made him the luckiest man in the world.

  It had taken them ten years to get here, to this place and this time and this moment. One thing was certain—he wasn’t wasting another second.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from WINNING OVER SKYLAR by Julianna Morris.

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  PROLOGUE

  EIGHTEEN-YEAR-OLD Skylar Naples held the blanket-wrapped infant in her arms and stared down at the tiny, scrunched-up face.

  Holy cow.

  This was her kid.

  She winced as she shifted in the hospital bed. Giving birth sucked, but the result was kind of awesome.

  “I’ll try to be a good mom,” she said. “Honest.”

  The baby yawned and closed her eyes. She’d have to be fed again soon, and Skylar felt a twinge of worry. There were so many things a baby needed—doctors, food, clothes...roller skates. She’d never had roller skates herself, but her daughter was going to have them. She wanted her kid to have everything she’d never had. It wouldn’t be easy to do it working as a cashier at a hamburger stand, no matter how nice the owners were being to her.

  Still, she’d have to find a way.

  Mr. and Mrs. Gibson had thrown her a baby shower, so she had some stuff to start. She’d also picked up things at garage sales. She hadn’t liked doing it at first, but Mrs. Gibson had said that babies and toddlers grew so fast they didn’t have time to wear clothes out, so she may as well get them secondhand for a while.

  Skylar carefully adjusted the bundle in her arms. She was renting a room from an older lady who’d offered to watch the baby in exchange for yard work and housecleaning. Mrs. Bealer was sweet and kind and a Sunday school teacher at her church, so it should be okay to trust her. Hopefully. A fierce protectiveness had filled Skylar the moment she first saw that tiny red face; she wasn’t sure she trusted anyone with her child.

  “Karin Grace is Mrs. Gibson’s name,” Skylar whispered. “I like it. So if you don’t object, that’s what I’ll call you. Only she goes by Grace, and we’ll use Karin. Okay?”

  The baby’s mouth worked sleepily. It might be silly to ask, but Skylar didn’t know much about being a mother and a name was awfully important.

  “Karin,” she said, to see how it felt on her tongue.

  The baby’s eyes opened and looked at her. It seemed like a good sign.

  Skylar rested her head on the pillow and continued making plans. She’d have to do this alone. She didn’t want anything to do with her own messed-up parents or Karin’s father.

  Her eyelids drooped. She was so tired. Her last thought before drifting off was that she wished she’d met Jimmie Gibson before she’d gotten herself in trouble and that Karin was his daughter.

  * * *

  SKYLAR WOKE WITH a start.

  The baby.

  She panicked before realizing her daughter was still in her arms, even though she’d fallen asleep holding her. Jeez, at the very least she should have put Karin on the bed first.

  “Hello, hello,” called a voice from the door.

  At first the only thing visible was a huge bunch of balloons, and then she saw Mr. and Mrs. Gibson...and Jimmie.

  “Hi,” she said awkwardly. Jimmie had been so sweet to her since she’d moved to Trident to work for his parents, but now the baby was here and the whole thing was much more real than befo
re.

  Jimmie grinned merrily and her awkwardness disappeared. “Hey, Sky. You look great.”

  He put a bouquet of flowers on the bedside table and tied the balloons to the chair in the corner. His parents piled gift bags on the end of the bed, but when Skylar tried to tell them they’d given her too much already, Mr. Gibson waved her concern away.

  “Nonsense. Just a few small items.” He pulled a toy koala bear from his pocket. “Let’s see your big production,” he said. “I’ve been waiting months to meet her.”

  “Me, too,” Jimmie and Mrs. Gibson chimed in unison. They crowded around and made cooing sounds as she pulled the blanket away from Karin’s face.

  “May I hold her?” asked Mrs. Gibson.

  Skylar nodded and watched as the three of them inspected Karin, counting fingers and toes and calling her the prettiest little girl they’d ever seen. Her eyes stung, and a funny sensation came into her throat. She hadn’t known there could be people like the Gibsons.

  She’d grown up in a neighboring town, and all her life she’d been the daughter of “that drunken Naples couple.” They were the family that everyone detested, with weeds and trash and broken-down cars surrounding their shabby house. Once she’d planted a flower bed, but her father had stomped it down in a whiskey-soaked rage, knocking her halfway across the yard when she tried to stop him.

  “Sky, have you decided on a name?” Jimmie asked.

  “Karin Grace, if it’s okay with you, ma’am,” she said quickly, looking at Mrs. Gibson.

  Mrs. Gibson blushed pink. “Oh, my... I’d be honored. Imagine having this lovely child named after me.”

  Mr. Gibson beamed and seemed pleased, too.

  As for Jimmie...he smiled and squeezed her hand. If Skylar hadn’t known better, she’d have thought he liked her as a girl, and not just as a friend. But it was dumb to get her hopes up. Jimmie had lots of girlfriends. He didn’t need one who already had a baby.