Naughty

Home > Romance > Naughty > Page 7
Naughty Page 7

by Arabella Quinn


  My mother looked thoughtful. "You were just a child. I didn't want any of this bitterness between the supposed adults in the situation to touch you in any way. I was worried about you being under Susan's care, but I still trusted your father. I thought if I stayed out of Susan's way and kept my distance, that you would be okay. And you thrived with your father. You got excellent grades and whenever I asked, you seemed to like it over there."

  I thought back to my mother's endless questions when I visited her. I had resented the hell out of it even though she had been just looking out for me. In fact, she just wanted to know about my life. Why had I always been so prickly to her? Because she had walked away.

  My mother broke into my somber thoughts. "Allie, we had lots of fun. I had you for most weekends, which was even better then during the school week. We were able to go lots of places together, the museums, movies, restaurants. Even the vacations we took. Remember the cruises? I'll always cherish those. Some of the best times of my life…"

  Oh crap. The lump was returning to my throat with a vengeance. I could barely swallow down another bite of lunch. Images from our weekends together flitted through my mind. I had always thought my mom was flaunting Frank's money- trying to impress me. To show me how much better she was than my father. I remembered throwing a fit one time; I wouldn't go on the cruise with my mother unless Frank didn't go with us.

  I had been a sullen teenager at many holiday visits with them because it ruined my rare chances to see Nick once he had moved out of the house. How had I acted so childish and selfish towards my mother and never even realized it until now?

  I drank some water, forcing it past the painful lump. "I was always so ungrateful. I was under a lot of misguided notions and misperceptions then. I didn't understand a lot of things." It sounded lame even to my own ears.

  But my mother smiled warmly. "You were always a little moody, but it must have been hard bouncing back and forth. You were always so loyal to your father and that's a good thing. I know you didn't respect me - that you blamed me for the divorce, but that wasn't important to me. I just made sure that you knew that I always loved you. No matter what."

  I needed some time to absorb all the information I had just found out. It was pretty overwhelming. We changed subjects for a while, my mother catching up on some of my latest activities. Which, of course, led to the discussion about me staying in Texas and what a bad patient Susan was. My mother was sympathetic but I noted that she didn't join in with me and help criticize her.

  I picked at the tasty piece of tiramisu sitting in front of me. "So, you'll never guess who showed up on the doorstep last night."

  My mother's eyes lighted with interest. "Hmm. I have no idea. Spill."

  Laughing, I answered. "John Hudson."

  "Susan's son?" Her eyebrows arched upwards. "That must have been interesting."

  "Yeah. Dad didn't seem too pleased. Anyway, he's staying at the house until at least Thanksgiving dinner, which apparently I'm cooking."

  My mother tried to cover he laugh with her hand. "Oh dear. Honey, why don't you dump the whole lot of them and spend Thanksgiving with Frank and me? We won't chain you to the stove. You can relax - I think you've earned it after putting up with Susan all this time."

  Since I knew Nick wasn't going to be there, I contemplated it for a moment. "No, thanks for the offer, but I'd feel kind of bad leaving them in a lurch for Thanksgiving."

  My mother dug into her dessert. "You're too good. So, tell me about John. What kind of trouble has he gotten into this time?"

  I shrugged. "Probably money trouble, I guess. I don't really know him all that well. I just remember Dad and Susan fighting about him. Dad doesn't trust him. Usually they fought because Dad never wanted to lend him any money."

  My mother searched my face. "Is he still good looking? Hmm, he must be in his thirties by now? He used to be quite the womanizer, leaving behind a trail of broken hearts. Who knows what he's like now? Just be careful, Allie, he's a real smooth talking charmer, that one."

  I almost spit out my water laughing. "Oh please. I've got his number. You don't have to worry about him."

  "What about Nick? Should I worry about him?" Her perceptive eyes never missed anything.

  My cheeks grew heated; I knew they were practically broadcasting my secret. "Nick? I don't think he'll be coming to Thanksgiving."

  Her eyes narrowed. "That's not what I mean. What about you and Nick? I know you always had a thing for him."

  I groaned my embarrassment. Had I been that obvious? "I may have had a slight crush on him, but that's run its course now."

  "Not from the look on your face it hasn't. What's going on Allie?"

  I desperately needed to unburden myself to someone I trusted. I had misjudged my mother for years. She had always supported me. She was always on my side.

  I took a deep breath and told her. Whispering in a low voice, I told her about the near rape with Rob and the aftermath when Nick came to my rescue. She listened quietly and only looked startled once - when I told her about losing my virginity to Nick and how he freaked out and left when he found out.

  She cringed. "Oh Allie. I'm so sorry all that happened to you. You should have told me sooner. Carrying all that around must have been hard. Have you and Nick talked about this since it happened?"

  I looked down at my empty plate. "No, he hasn't spoken to me since."

  "And you still have feelings for him, don't you?" She shook her head sadly. "You can't go on tip-toeing around each other forever. You need to talk to him. Resolve whatever feelings you have so that you can move on from this. He's obviously feeling really guilty about what happened; you need to let him off the hook. Then you need to find yourself a new man. Preferably not a Hudson."

  Her words almost seemed to have the opposite affect from what she intended. Warning me off Nick only served to make me realize that I was no where near over him. I still had it bad.

  I studied her face. "Should Nick be feeling guilty? Was what we did so wrong? He's not really my brother."

  She looked sympathetic. "No, not really. But it is pretty awkward. Some people would judge you rather cruelly. Including your father and stepmother. You better keep whatever is going on from them. I have a feeling that Susan would go ballistic if she thought you were anywhere near either of her sons. You better tread carefully."

  Well, at least she wasn't out right disgusted by my behavior. "I'll be careful. Believe me, I have my eyes wide open about Susan now."

  My mother finished her dessert and looked at me. "Allie, it's only normal to have mixed feelings about the first man you've, uh, well- you've been intimate with. But Nick is a Hudson, just like John. Their father was a notorious cheater and Susan lived with it. It was an extremely horrible example for those boys. Plus, Nick is in that awful band. The whole rock star thing Nick has going on - well, I'm sure you know. You're a smart girl. Don't let guys like that take advantage of you. You deserve so much better."

  I wanted to argue that Nick was different. I stubbornly didn't want to accept the probability that I was most certainly wrong. From what I knew of Nick's life, he did have casually flings with different women all the time. He may have tried to hide it from me when I went to his shows, but I was smart enough to notice all the women around him. Ugh. It was all so complicated. If only I could turn off my feelings for him and find a nice normal guy that rocked my world. Life would be much less complicated that way.

  My mother and I parted with her telling me how proud she was of me and how I was growing up so fast while I rolled my eyes at her sappy declarations. But as I headed back to my childhood home, I thought about all the things I hadn't known growing up. They had caused so many misperceptions on my part for years. I had never understood my mother at all. I had been unfair and judgmental based on lies and half-truths.

  Our talk had left me feeling closer to her than I had ever felt. When I had told her about Nick, she hadn't been disapproving or disgusted with me. But her manner and h
er words let me know that others might not be so understanding. It would be best for me to move on and forget all about Nick.

  Chapter Eight

  I was dripping with sweat as I stood over the kitchen sink. It was only eight o'clock in the morning, but already I could tell the day was going to be warm. I glanced at my laptop, which was propped on the counter to the left and watched the video for the second time while I cleaned up all the nasty juices that had escaped as I wrestled the heavy turkey out of its wrapper.

  Already I was regretting my hasty decisions from the day before. I had gotten approval from Susan for all the holiday recipes I had found on my computer and had gone out and bought all the necessary ingredients. I should have just bought everything pre-made, because I was quickly discovering that the turkey alone was enough to overwhelm me. Getting this all done on time was not going to be easy. I didn't even care what it ended up tasting like at this point.

  The video made it look simple, remove the bag of giblets and rinse out the cavity with cold water. And yet, as I poked gingerly around in the hole, there was no bag. Just a few bloody looking stumps. Ugh. Did they forget to bag them? I used a large spoon to scoop out the loose pieces - there was no way I was going to touch them with my bare hands - and let them drop into the sink. Now what?

  I pulled the slippery turkey into the sink basin and ran water through the cavity and all over the skin. Okay, not too bad. I lifted the turkey to hoist it onto the cutting board and noticed something slipping loose from the bottom.

  "What the hell is that?" I tried to turn the turkey to see what it was more clearly when the whole thing slipped out of my hand and landed back in the sink with a jarring thud, right on top of the bloody, pulpy pieces I had removed earlier.

  I muttered my frustration to the lifeless turkey, "Damn! If you don't cooperate, I'm gonna beat you before I stuff your ass and roast you."

  "Whoa, remind me never to get on your bad side." I jumped as the voice just behind my ear startled me.

  John was peering over my shoulder, looking into the sink. "What's going on with the turkey? You two fighting?"

  I snorted in disgust. "More like I'm fighting and it's just ignoring me."

  John laughed, "Let me just wash my hands and I'll help you out."

  After he returned with clean hands, he turned to me. "Okay. What have you done so far?"

  Pointing to the disaster in the sink, I told him. "So far, I took the giblets out and rinsed it out with cold water."

  John grabbed the turkey by the legs. "That stuff in the sink looks like the neck column. The giblets are… in here." He pulled out a bag filled with organs.

  I watched slightly revolted while he worked.

  "This is the main cavity you want to rinse out. Okay, where do you want him?"

  I slid the cutting board next to the sink. "Right here. Thank God you came! I wasn't even poking in the right holes." What did I just say?

  John gave me a sidelong glance as he effortlessly hoisted the turkey onto the cutting board. "Well, I do have a bit of experience in that regard. Glad to be of assistance."

  Damn. I was always saying such stupid things around incredibly hot men. Just ignore it, Allie. "Maybe you can stick around and make sure I don't screw anything else up. I don't really know what I'm doing."

  John had a mischievous smile on his face. "Is this your first time doing this?"

  I stared at the turkey sitting on the counter. "Well, like I mentioned before, I've done bits and pieces of it before, but I've never done the whole entire thing."

  Amusement danced in his eyes. "Are we still talking about poking and holes or are we talking about Thanksgiving dinner now?"

  I feigned outrage at first, but then I jokingly pitched a dishrag at him. "Really, you're so juvenile. I don't need your help. Shouldn't you be busy drinking beer and watching football, anyway?"

  "It's a little early for all that. But I'll make you a deal. If I don't have to help clean up anything after dinner when I'm busy boozing and watching football, I'll help you out with the cooking now."

  It was a deal I couldn't refuse. "Are you serious? It's a deal. You may have just saved Thanksgiving dinner."

  We worked surprisingly well together. He kept up the suggestive banter, but it was playful in nature, so I didn't mind. I even got into the spirit of it and cracked a few suggestive jokes of my own. Besides his earlier knowledge about the turkey, he didn't know much about cooking, but he was a willing helper cutting, peeling and prepping whatever I needed assistance with.

  When everything was prepared it was just a matter of juggling the oven schedule to get it all finished at about the same time. The kitchen was stifling hot despite the open windows, so when everything was finally under control, I couldn't wait to jump in the shower. I thanked John for helping me again and headed upstairs to shower.

  After I finished showering and toweled off, I wrapped the bath towel securely around my body and headed back to my room. I was running through a mental checklist of all that needed to be done for dinner, so I wasn't paying much attention when I banged into the solid form that suddenly stepped outside of John's room.

  "Oh, John. Sorry, I wasn't…"

  I looked up into the piercing blue eyes that belonged to Nick. Shocked, I gasped his name, "Nick!"

  He stepped away from me quickly. "Sorry to disappoint you, but it's just me."

  It had been months since I had seen him last. Although my brain had decided it was important for me to move on, my body seemed to have different ideas. Images of the last time I stood in front of him, half-naked, flitted through my mind. I remembered how I had dropped my robe and climbed onto his lap. How he had touched me…

  My hands tightened around my towel. My body may have been yearning for his touch, but I was completely nervous around him. "I, uh, I didn't know you were coming. Your mother said-"

  Nick cut off my babble, "My plans changed at the last minute. Sorry, I should have called ahead. I hope you don't mind that I'm here." He sounded far too serious and formal.

  I tried to play it cool, but my heart was beating crazily in my chest. "No. Not at all. There's plenty of food."

  Nick stepped to the side to pass me. "Okay. I'll see you downstairs then." He walked off leaving me flustered. I raced to my room and closed the door. I hadn't planned on wearing anything special or even applying any makeup for that matter. Maybe I should stick to that plan. I lost that internal debate within seconds. Forget acting like everything was normal. Nothing felt normal when I was around Nick.

  I was eager to get downstairs and see Nick, so I rushed through my usual routine and got ready as quickly as I could. As I headed down the stairs, I heard the sound of voices in the living room, but I went straight to the kitchen. I began arranging a few trays with cheese and crackers and cut up vegetables and dip for appetizers. When I finished, I took a peek at the dinner cooking and hoped that it was all going well.

  I took a deep breath, picked up the trays and headed for the living room.

  Of course, I zeroed in on Nick when I walked into the room. He was sitting on a small chair glumly watching the football game. Susan took up the loveseat next to Nick's chair and my father and John sat on opposite sides of the couch.

  John stood up when I entered and took one of the heavy platters out of my hand. He looked me over and winked. "You sure clean up nicely."

  I laughed as we made room for the trays on the coffee table. I had been wearing a ratty old t-shirt and sweat pants earlier and my hair had been tucked up in a messy ponytail. And even though I had rushed through my primping routine, I hadn't stepped out the door until I was satisfied that I looked good. Sexy, but not obviously so. It was a combination that had taken me years to perfect.

  Susan glared at me. "Allison, where did you get that shirt? It's a god-awful color on you."

  I bit my tongue as all eyes swiveled toward me. Even my father who was deeply absorbed in watching the game, glanced up and looked at my shirt, and then resumed watching as
if the conversation didn't merit any more of his attention. Why was Susan so dead set on undermining me?

  Before I could think of an adequate response, John spoke up. "I like it. It's very trendy and the color is nice."

  I smiled my thanks at John and decided not to say anything.

  But Susan couldn't let it go. "Just because it's the latest fashion doesn't mean it isn't ugly. Really, Allison, you should start dressing a little more modestly."

  This time I choked back my laughter as I looked at her sitting so primly on the sofa wearing her mauve jacket with the hideous floral pattern decorating the shirt underneath. If she thought a turquoise chiffon blouse with slightly off the shoulder sleeves was immodest, then so be it.

  John sat down on the couch and patted the seat besides him. "C'mon Allie. Take a load off and sit down."

  I grabbed a few veggies off the platter and sat next to him. "Who's winning?"

  My father leaned forward to pick at the tray of food. "The answer is who cares? Dallas doesn't play until later."

  Wow, this crowd was fun.

  John drained his beer bottle. "I'm getting a refill. You want one Allie?" He leaned in and spoke quietly into my ear. "You're going to need one. This crowd is a real laugh a minute."

  This time I laughed out loud and received a contemptuous sneer from Susan. Geez. "Thanks, I could use one."

  Nick hadn't said a word, but he was definitely watching our exchange the entire time. The atmosphere was so stifling and uncomfortable; instead of waiting for John to return with my beer, I snatched some appetizers and headed into the kitchen.

  John handed me a beer from the refrigerator. "We've only got a 12-pack, so pace yourself accordingly."

  "Thanks." I took the beer and headed out the kitchen door to the small stone paver patio behind the house. I wiped off the crappy plastic chair with my hand and sat at the dingy outdoor table. I closed my eyes and lifted my face to catch the warm rays of sun.

  I heard the door open. "Mind if I join you? I brought the bottle opener."

 

‹ Prev