Sweet Southern Bad Boy

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Sweet Southern Bad Boy Page 5

by Michele Summers


  “That ain’t what I heard—”

  “You’re hearing it now.” Clancy got that belligerent look on his face and was about to say something really stupid, when Katie hooked her arm through his and steered him toward the door.

  “Mr. Perry, as soon as Mr. Kerner and I have ironed out all the details, I will personally let you know if there are any parts in the miniseries suited for you,” she said to a goofy-smiling Clancy. “Thank you for stopping by and informing me of your availability.”

  Clancy shuffled his dirty cowboy boots on the wood floor. “Sure thang. Maybe you and me can talk over beers.” He made a suggestive leer with his tobacco-stained teeth. “You ever ridden on the back of an ATV—”

  “She’s not available,” Vance cut in as he tried shoving Clancy out the door.

  “How do you know?” Clancy dug his booted heels in, preventing Vance from slamming the door in his face. “You ain’t her boyfriend, you douche bag.”

  “Yes, I am. Now get the hell out of here,” he snarled in Clancy’s stupefied face. “And make sure you tell your brother, Clinton, too.” Vance slammed the door so hard it rattled the frame.

  Katie stood with crossed arms. Pointing a finger at her disapproving face, he said, “Don’t give me that look. I did you a huge favor. Clancy and his brother, Clinton, are two characters you want to avoid. They don’t run on all four cylinders. They trim trees for a living and have fallen out of more than I can count, which explains the brain damage.”

  Katie took an aggressive step forward. “I don’t care about Clancy. You promised to listen to my proposal with an open mind. And now you’re saying no before I’ve had a chance to explain.” A wrinkle creased her brow directly below her widow’s peak. “And I’m not your girlfriend, you…you butthurt!”

  He was unable to form a coherent thought, and his pulse quickened as he stared at Katie’s flustered face and heaving chest beneath her oversized sweatshirt. “Did you just call me butthurt?”

  “Yeah. And I meant it.” Katie whirled around and stormed away. “I’m outta here. But I’m coming back tomorrow to present my proposal, and you’re gonna listen.”

  Snapping out of his stupor, Vance followed her to the kitchen. “Where’re you going?”

  “Hotel, motel, bus station. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll sleep in my car.”

  Katie leaving, even for one night, unsettled him. Vance didn’t want her going. He didn’t want her out of his sight. And he really didn’t want to piss off Mike by blowing his chances of getting a movie deal for his books.

  “Look, let me make it up to you. Don’t go yet.” Katie slung her handbag over her shoulder, a distrustful expression marring her pretty face. “Stay and have a glass of wine. I’ll listen to your proposal”—she gave him a you’re-lower-than-dog-shit look—“I promise. Scout’s honor.” He held up his fingers, wearing his most dazzling smile.

  “I bet my new Nikon camera you were never a scout.”

  Vance chuckled, because Katie was as wise as she was beautiful. “What gave me away?”

  “Only the pirate vibe with a side of badass you’ve got going.” She flicked her hand in his direction.

  “A pirate badass? I like it. Might use that in my next book. Thanks.”

  “I’m sure you have plenty of material to work with.”

  “Kat, sarcasm doesn’t become you.” Katie gave a loud snort. “You need to chill. You’ve had a rough day…believe me, I know. Taking care of my brother’s kids is draining.”

  “The kids were fine. I enjoyed being with them.” Her face softened at the mention of the hellions on wheels.

  “Good. Good. Let’s sit down for wine and dessert. BetterBites coconut cream pie is amazing. Okay?” He eased her handbag from her shoulder and placed it back on the countertop.

  Katie checked her watch and gave a curt nod. “Ten minutes. Wine, but no pie. I can’t afford the calories.”

  Relief flooded over him, because he didn’t want her leaving angry…or at all. “Grab two glasses, and we’ll sit on the porch. It’s nice out tonight.” He started uncorking the wine. “Wineglasses are in the cabinet above the silverware.” Vance poured the Chardonnay in the glasses she provided. “I insist you try this pie. And you can afford the calories,” he said, appreciating all her curves in all the right places.

  A pretty shade of pink flushed her cheeks. “A very small sliver, and according to my mother, you can never be too thin,” she mumbled.

  Vance stopped, holding two plates of pie. “No offense, but your mother is dead wrong.” Katie tugged on her big sweatshirt as if not to draw attention to her shape. And something told Vance she wore baggy clothes for that very reason, which was offensive on too many levels to contemplate. She withdrew as a shadow swept across her face. “Come on, K-K-Katie,” he said to cheer her up. “We’re gonna sit on the front porch, North Carolina style. And you’re gonna eat pie and listen to chirping male crickets trying their darnedest to attract the womenfolk.”

  Katie raised a delicate brow. “If you write the way you talk, your books are in big trouble.”

  Vance grinned. She had no idea.

  Chapter 5

  Katie settled on the porch swing next to Vance Kerner, New York Times bestselling author. Yes, she knew who he was and what he wrote…thriller stories about war. She’d Googled him earlier. But she didn’t feel compelled to fuel his already egoistical head with any more compliments. She’d recognized his book covers immediately, because her brothers had raved about them.

  The porch swing groaned under their weight. The quiet April night settled around them like a soft baby blanket. Vance placed the pie next to the swing on an end table designed from a tree stump.

  He kept finding ways to make contact, like when his fingers had brushed hers as he reached for the wineglass, or when he’d slipped her handbag from her shoulder. Katie knew his game. She’d been around enough slick Hollywood types to know when someone was pulling a fast one. And Vance Kerner was as slick as a whistle.

  “Cheers. To crazy days and lazy nights.” Vance clicked his glass against hers and then handed her a piece of pie.

  “I’m going to regret this in the morning, but it looks too good to resist.” Katie almost groaned in ecstasy over the delicious coconut and cream melting in her mouth. It had been ages since she’d indulged in something so decadent. Her mother’s dire warnings of gaining weight played loudly in her head. Being overweight in Hollywood could destroy your career. Not that she had a career in the movies, but since she lived around movie stars, everyone got caught up in the land of human perfection…especially her mother. In the companionable silence, the horny male crickets serenaded with their chainsaw buzzing, and fireflies danced on the front lawn. Katie closed her eyes and simply breathed. The smells of spring hugged the air. Different from California. Here the earthy pungency mixed with honeysuckle, and spring blossoms created a sweet aroma in the simple darkness.

  “Better?” Vance’s voice mimicked the calm surroundings. But she knew better than to be lulled into a false sense of complacency. His sexy voice be damned. This was war.

  “I’ll be better when you agree to let me use your house.” She met his gaze, catching him off guard; he appeared momentarily startled.

  The Prince of Darkness heaved a huge sigh and leaned back, rocking the swing. “Okay. Lay it on me.”

  “Don’t sound so excited. I wouldn’t want you to burst anything.”

  “Now there’s a phrase. Just what exactly are you referring to my bursting, oh Kat of mine?”

  Katie bristled. His familiarity and sly smile unsettled her. “Don’t call me Kat, and I’m certainly not yours.” Her voice sounded prim and starchy to her own ears. Vance’s sly smile grew wider. She gulped her wine for courage. Now or never, Katie McKnight. Make your dad proud.

  “Your house and property are the perfect location for my dad’s new miniser
ies. As soon as you give your permission, I can FedEx the contracts back to California, and the crews can get started on transforming the place.”

  Vance took a long, slow sip of his wine, never breaking eye contact. Katie was no mind reader, but she sensed his dark look didn’t bode well. “And this is the show about teenage vampires on a killing spree?” His silky-smooth voice got even silkier.

  “Sorta. It’s about this teenage girl named Alexis who discovers she has unusual powers, and she’s being chased by the zombies of Squirrel Hollow and”—she gestured to the front yard—“your lawn would make the perfect Squirrel Hollow. Anyway, the zombies want to steal her powers, but she teams up with Evan, the teenage vampire who helps her, and they have to kill the zombies in order to be free.” Vance continued to study her as she spoke, giving nothing away. “Uh, we would need access to the house and grounds to create their spooky world.” Katie glanced at the dark oaks lining the driveway. “They might have to cut down a tree or two, because we need room for trailers, but they’ll replant as soon as they’re done filming.” She glanced at the closed front door with the bunny knocker. “And we’ll have to paint the door bloodred and change the knocker…things like that, but again, all that will be fixed when we finish.”

  For a solid minute, Vance didn’t move a muscle. Katie began to fidget, waiting for his reaction. The longer he took, the more nervous she became.

  Finally, he placed his empty wineglass down. “Aw, fuck no.”

  Okay, not exactly what she wanted to hear. “That’s just a quick overview. The rest is spelled out in the contract, along with how much you’ll be paid for leasing your property.” Vance pushed his long fingers through his thick, wild hair, making it appear even more pirate-like. “Um, it’s really a lot of money. McKnight Studios pays well on location,” she said, hoping to sweeten the pot and remove the appalled look from his chiseled features.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. No freakin’ way anyone is cutting down one-hundred-year-old oak trees on my property.” His voice was gruff and irritated.

  Obviously a deal breaker. “Well, there’s certainly room for negotiations. Why don’t you have your attorney look it over, and you can discuss it with the McKnight team.” Spearheaded by her two attorney brothers. Katie was scrambling for ways to make this deal appeal to Vance.

  “Kat, you appear to be a nice, sweet girl, and I’d love to do this for you because, well, you’ve been great, and the kids seem to love you, but holy shit… I can’t wrap my head around a team of movie makers tromping all over my grounds, cutting down trees, and painting my door bloodred.”

  Katie jumped up from the swing and paced the length of the porch. “But there’s room for negotiations. I’m sure if you specify no trees are to be touched, they won’t touch them.” She really had no idea. She was grasping at straws.

  Vance rose slowly as if his back ached. “Look, Katie, here’s the thing. I’ve got four weeks to finish three quarters of my next manuscript to meet my deadline, or my agent, not to mention my editor, is going to rip me a new one. And I’ve got three monkeys posing as kids sleeping upstairs who will be awake”—he glanced at his black watch—“in less than nine hours, which means my day will careen straight to hell from there. Just like every day for the last five weeks. In other words, the creek’s rising, and I’m up to my ass in alligators. I don’t have time to babysit kids and a movie crew at the same time.”

  “What will it take for you to agree?” Katie blurted without thinking.

  Sparks shone in Vance’s inky-dark eyes, and he shoved his fisted hands in his jeans pockets. “Aw, Kat. You don’t want to know what it will take. And quite frankly, once I started, I’m not sure I’d be able to stop…with you,” he rumbled low.

  Smacksy. Katie stopped pacing at what he’d implied, and her pulse skittered for shelter as her heart took a big tumble.

  The Dark Knight continued, “You see, as much as I’d like to help you so you’ll stick around, I don’t see how it’s possible. I don’t want to keep you from doing your job and finding another appropriate location.” His silky drawl sucked all the air from her lungs.

  A crazy feeling of doom came over Katie at the prospect of leaving. She barely knew where she was, but she couldn’t see herself leaving…yet. And losing this location was not an option. She had to prove to her family she could do this job. Because she craved their approval. Yeah, way pathetic. Gnarly pathetic. Even at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, she hadn’t figured a way out from under the pressure. Which was why the next words tumbled from her lips. “I’ll make a deal with you.” Sudden interest sparked his dark, devil face. “I’ll babysit for the next four weeks so you can finish writing your book if”—Katie stood mere inches from Vance and poked him in his rock-hard chest—“at the end of those four weeks, you let us have access to your property to film the show.”

  Vance wrapped his callused palm around her hand. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into. There’s gonna be crying, begging, and misbehaving—”

  “I can handle the kids.”

  “I was referring to me.”

  Katie smiled. “I’m a big girl. I can handle you too.”

  “If only you would,” he whispered, tipping his head. Breath unsteady, her lips parted…

  His head popped up. “Mother fuh—” Vance pushed Katie aside and bounded down the front steps.

  Katie blinked. Beach bunnies! He was a pirate with mystical methods of persuasion, and Katie should be tased for falling in lust. Not smart, Kathryn Ann McKnight.

  She watched as a black SUV wound down the long driveway. Vance stood with hands splayed on his hips, glaring at his unwanted visitors. More eager Harmony citizens wanting to audition? Katie shook her head in disbelief. This small Southern town could be its own reality TV show.

  * * *

  Vance frowned at the black Porsche Cayenne. It belonged to Keith Morgan, retired professional tennis player. Vance liked Keith. He was sharp, hard-working, and drove a lot of business to Harmony with his Keith Morgan Tennis Academy and high profile. What he didn’t like was Bertie, Brogan, and Lucy sitting in Keith’s car, coming to call on him. More like spy, snoop, and give him grief over Katie. Damn small towns and damn social media. Worst combination ever.

  “What’s up, Kerner?” Keith called, climbing from his car and opening the back door for Lucy.

  “Hey, Vance, how’s it going?” Lucy Reese asked. “Brogan and I brought you some homemade muffins for the kids.” She held a brown pastry bag from BetterBites in her hand. Nice cover. He’d bet his left nut they didn’t all pile in a car and drive ten minutes from town to deliver baked goods. Brogan had jumped out from the passenger side and opened the back door for Bertie.

  “Hey, handsome,” Bertie said, gliding forward wearing a stylish yellow skirt with white top and blue geometric sweater. Bertie had the same flair for fashion as she did for interiors. She stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. “How you holding up?”

  Keith shook Vance’s hand, and Brogan followed, wearing jeans, a green BetterBites collared shirt, and a cocky-ass grin. Vance narrowed his eyes. He knew Brogan had gossiped like a seventh-grade girl and told everyone Vance had a woman stashed away. Pinhead.

  “Great. What brings you guys out here?” he barely gritted between his teeth.

  “Just a friendly visit…amongst friends. Speaking of friends, why don’t you introduce us?” Brogan, the jackass, was enjoying himself at Vance’s expense. He ambled toward Katie who, judging by her expression, thought they were all nuttier than a jar of dry roasted Planters.

  “Hey. I’m Brogan Reese, and you are?” Brogan extended his hand, and Keith, Bertie, and Lucy crowded behind him, peering at Katie as if she were the freak exhibit at the state fair.

  Katie cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you. Katie McKnight from McKnight Studios out of California.”

  “My wife,
Lucy”—Brogan put his arm around Lucy’s waist as he smiled down at her—“and Keith and Bertie Morgan.” Lucy and Bertie shook Katie’s hand, trying not to gawk and blatantly check her out.

  “Keith Morgan? Aren’t you the Prince? I didn’t realize you lived here now,” Katie said, referring to Keith’s nickname when he’d been on the pro tour.

  “Yeah, I moved here a few years ago,” Keith said.

  “Not happily, I might add.” Bertie gave Keith a cheeky grin. “But we managed to change his mind, and now he loves Harmony and wouldn’t trade it for the world. Right, Prince?”

  Bertie’s expression dared Keith to disagree with her.

  Known for his high intellect, Keith responded, “Yes, dear. Anything you say, dear.” He kissed the top of her mahogany-colored hair.

  Bothered by how severely he wanted to kick his friends off his porch and snatch Katie in his arms, Vance said, “Shouldn’t you be home tending your kids? Potty training or telling bedtime stories?” He hoped they’d take the hint and get the hell off his property. Instead, Brogan chuckled and shook his head as if Vance might as well hand his balls over to be smashed with a hammer, because they weren’t going anywhere except inside to get settled for a more formal interrogation.

  “Maddie’s babysitting.” Lucy gave him a sly you’re-busted look. Maddie was Keith’s daughter from his first marriage. “Come on, Katie McKnight.” Lucy slipped her arm through Katie’s. “Let’s enjoy Vance’s wine while we get to know each other.” Code for we’re going to grill you until you’re charred. Katie shot him a nervous glance over her shoulder.

  “Crap,” Vance muttered under his breath, climbing the steps.

  “Charming, rock star. Now smile and quit scaring Katie with your badass, scowling face.” Lucy, who never held her punches, knocked him in the gut with the side of her fist.

 

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