by Lori Foster
But he’d never had a woman melt for him like this.
While backing her up against her car door, Dean turned his head to find a better fit and sank his tongue past her teeth.
Damn, she tasted good. She felt good, too, like the perfect counterbalance to the emotional upheaval Cam’s attention had caused him. When he touched Eve, he could almost obliterate awareness of his sisters and everything that came with reacquainting himself with their lives.
Anticipating the evening—along with Eve—Dean opened his hands on her narrow back. He thought about getting her alone, naked, under him….
Gasping for breath, Eve turned her head away.
Dean took advantage of the moment to softly warn her away from overstepping herself. “Keep your nose out of my business with my sisters, okay?”
Eve’s mouth fell open. Stunned at his admonishment, her brows snapped down, she gathered herself to give him hell—and Dean kissed her again before she could say a single word. Groaning, she leaned into him….
For about two seconds.
Then she exploded. Or tried to explode, but he had her snuggled in close and other than freeing her mouth, she really didn’t accomplish much with her huffing attitude.
“Now, Eve,” he whispered. “Don’t get mad.”
Straight-arming him, she said, “Back it up right now, mister.”
Another unique trait. Far as he could recall, no other woman had ever given him hell.
Enjoying her, Dean held up his hands in surrender.
Once freed, Eve took a moment to draw in several calming breaths before meeting his gaze. Her expression bordered on hostile. He kept his merely curious.
She drew one more needed breath. “Did you seriously just tell me to butt out?”
“Yeah.” Damn, she was cute. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“A problem?” she sputtered. “Yes, it’s a problem. You can’t come into my best friend’s life, only to walk right back out again.”
“I said I was going back.”
“And you used me as an excuse to walk out. How do you think that made Cam feel?”
Dean shrugged. “I wouldn’t have hung around there all day anyway.”
As if he hadn’t spoken, she continued on her tirade. “And then you seriously expect me to keep quiet and not have an opinion about it?” She ended all that on a high, shrill note. “What is wrong with you?”
“I hope that’s a rhetorical question, that you don’t really expect me to bare my soul.”
Her eyes nearly crossed in confusion. “What?”
Dean laughed. “I’m a flawed man, Eve. Accept it. I have. I’m here with a lot of doubts and misgivings. I have no idea how much I want to know about my sisters or how much I want them to know about me. Getting involved would be a mistake on your part. So I’m telling you nicely: Stay out of it.”
“Good God.” She dropped back against the car in flagrant shock. “I can’t believe you said all that with a straight face.”
“It’s the truth.”
She folded her arms under her breasts. “Oh, I believe you’re flawed.”
Unsure if he liked her agreement, Dean lifted a brow. “Is that so?”
“But I also saw you with your sisters.”
He did not want her to go there. “Well hell. You’re not going to psychoanalyze me are you?”
His sarcasm didn’t put a dent in her resolve. “You want to be a part of them, Dean. You are a part of them—whether you want to admit it or not. I saw it in your eyes.”
What he admitted to himself and what he’d admit to her were two different things. “I barely spoke to Jacki before she hightailed it out of there, so whatever you thought you saw—”
“You hid it better than Cam,” she told him, still undaunted, “but then, Cam doesn’t try to hide it. She wears her heart on her sleeve, always has. From the moment she found out about you, she’s cared. You could have shown up as an ogre, and Cam would still love you.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he complained. But he was half-afraid Eve was right.
“She might not like you, but you’re her brother, and that means a lot to her.” Eve touched his arm. “Luckily you’re a nice guy, not an ogre. And I think being her brother means something to you, too.”
Knowing he couldn’t stop her, not yet anyway, Dean stared up at the sky.
“So I know you don’t mean to hurt her feelings. I know you’ll do what you can to make it up to her.” Eve moved closer. “Right?”
Dean wasn’t about to let Eve manipulate him, even if what she said made sense. Propping one forearm on the roof behind her head, he diverted her off that particular topic and onto another. “Why did you blanch when I mentioned Roger groping you?”
Her gaze scuttled away. “He didn’t grope me.”
“He damn near squeezed bruises into your arm.”
“It wasn’t personal on his part.”
“It was damn personal, and you know it.”
Given the way she huffed, Eve didn’t like being corrected. “Roger manhandles everyone. It’s just his way. Something about being a football player.” She gave him a calculated look. “Most of the athletes I’ve met are a little dense that way.”
Dean didn’t take the bait. “There’s dense, and then there’s abusive, and neither has anything to do with sports. The guys I know in the SBC are family men. They care for women, they treat them carefully, and with respect.”
“Even the groupies?”
He grinned at the snide way she said that. “It doesn’t matter who the woman is. Only an insecure jerk uses his size and strength against someone smaller or weaker.” He propped his other arm on the roof of her car so that he caged her in. “And for the record, the groupie who followed me home didn’t get what she came for.”
Eve’s mock surprise looked adorable. “Don’t tell me your scruples got in the way?”
Her time under the warm summer sun had amplified her scent. A breeze teased it past his nostrils and stirred his insides. “I’m not sure I have scruples where sex is concerned.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I’ll always be honest with you.” Her dark blue eyes really were beautiful. But then so was her mouth. And her body. “The truth is, I was too beat up to accommodate her. Then the next morning I got Cam’s note and…” He shrugged. “I sent her home with the promise of free tickets to the next event.”
Dean waited to see what she’d think of his sacrifice, but her reaction almost laid him low.
Shaking her head, Eve placed her fingertips on his chest and smiled with derisive pity. “And she accepted that? What a fool. If you ask me, she got the short end of the stick.”
Dean drew in a necessary breath. “You are such a tease.”
“Not usually.” She slipped her hand up to his neck. “Now I really do have to go. I think you’ve made me late.”
“We’re still on for tonight?”
Her attention went to his mouth, and she nodded. “Yes. But you better be worth all this bother.”
“Damn woman.” He put his forehead to hers and laughed. “I do love a challenge.”
And with one last searing kiss, he let her go.
CHAPTER 4
WHEN Cam opened the door to his knock, Dean knew right away that something was wrong. Her apologetic smile told him so. The nervous twisting of her hands told him so. The negative energy in the air had him looking past her—and he saw not only Jacki, but also a prickly, rigid woman nearing sixty.
Tight faced with disapproval and, if he didn’t miss his guess, barely disguised apprehension, the older woman stared at him.
Bringing his gaze back to Cam, Dean asked, “Lorna?”
Cam’s taut expression said better than words that she expected a scene. “Yes.”
Regardless of all the lectures Dean had just given himself about keeping his emotional distance, he didn’t want to cause her worry. “She’s going with us?”
“When she found out you wer
e here, that is, when I told her Jacki and I were going to dinner with you—”
Dean cupped her shoulder and moved her out of the doorway. “No worries. It’s fine.” He stepped into the house past Cam, and she rushed into introductions.
“Aunt Lorna, this is Dean. Dean, our Aunt Lorna.”
No one would miss the way Cam stressed our aunt. While Dean hoped to ensure a peaceful evening, he did not intend to claim Lorna as a relative. Cam could forget any thoughts along those lines.
Dean couldn’t even bear to touch Lorna, not after what Cam had told him about her wiping him from her memory. To keep her from offering her hand—if she’d intended to—Dean kept his distance and nodded. “Lorna.” He didn’t bother with a smile. “So you’re joining us for dinner.”
A surprisingly firm chin elevated. “I feel very responsible for the girls, and we don’t know anything about you. Of course I’m coming along.”
“I already know quite a bit about him,” Cam corrected. “After Dean and I talked, I looked him up on the Internet. He’s famous.”
Dean swallowed back his groan. “I’m known within a niche audience, but I’m hardly famous.”
“Don’t be modest, Dean. You’re paid to endorse dozens of products. You have a big fan club. The SBC has created T-shirts with you on them.”
She had him there. The SBC actually had a whole line of apparel with his face or name on them. “Okay, true enough.”
Cam smiled at his reluctant agreement. “There, you see, Aunt Lorna. We’re probably safer with Dean than without him. He’s well known and very capable.” Good manners had her adding, “But, of course, we’re thrilled that you’re coming along. I’m sure you’ll want to get to know Dean, too.”
Rather than listen to Lorna choke over that, Dean turned his attention to his youngest sister. “So, Jacki, you can make it after all?”
Jacki gave a negligent shrug. “Cam twisted my arm.”
“I did not!”
Seeing how easily Jacki riled Cam, and how much she enjoyed doing it, made Dean laugh.
“Relax, Cam.” Jacki tossed back her hair, now styled bone straight with an occasional skinny braid here and there. “He’s not taking me seriously.”
With her coal-lined eyes and funky outfit, Jacki looked wickedly teasing. Dean wondered if she was a handful when younger. He’d bet his next fight on it.
She wore a metallic brown halter top that tied behind her neck and super low jeans with holes manufactured into the knees, across one thigh, and over a hipbone. Her tattoo showed through, but he couldn’t quite make out the design.
“I’m relieved to see we’re not dressing up.” He’d worn his own holey jeans and an untucked Grateful Dead T-shirt. He’d half expected to catch a little grief for his super casual wear, but Cam, dressed in white slacks and a turquoise shirt, was too pleased to be anything but bubbly.
Lorna, however, made her disgust apparent with a searing look.
“This is as dressed up as I get,” Jacki told him. “But Aunt Lorna wouldn’t be caught dead in jeans, especially any as comfortable as ours.”
From her styled light brown hair, fake fingernails, designer dress and heels to her aloof attitude, Lorna Ross was everything Dean had expected. Uncle Grover hadn’t exaggerated one bit.
“Some of us,” Lorna said, in a frosty tone, “care about our image.”
Their aunt was so cold that Dean almost felt pity for his sisters. Grover hadn’t supplied a cushy life, but at least he’d known how to laugh and occasionally cut loose with a beer and a few raunchy jokes.
Sticking his hands in his pockets, Dean tilted his head at Jacki. “I’ve never really given a shit about image, but I’d say yours is young, fun, and casual.”
“Right on, brother.” Jacki high-fived him before turning to Cam with satisfaction. “Told ya he wouldn’t care what I wore.”
Dean stood still. That simple touch, that brief moment of unity, left him flummoxed.
Until he saw Lorna scrutinizing him. Then he shrugged off the novelty of siding with a sibling and gestured for the door. “Everybody ready?”
Cam hugged his arm. “I hope Italian is okay with you.”
“Anything’s fine.” They left the house and strode down the walkway. The sun still beat down, making the day hot and humid. “I’m not picky, as long as it doesn’t require a suit. Like Jacki, it takes a lot of coercion for me to spiff up.”
He opened the back door for Lorna and she slid in without a word. Jacki followed her, leaving Cam to sit up front with him. After the ladies were all seated, he rounded the hood and got behind the wheel.
“This place is totally casual,” Cam assured him, “but they have the most incredible pasta and breadsticks and—”
Lorna’s icy voice cut through Cam’s enthusiasm. “What about your sister’s wedding? Will you ‘spiff up’ for that?”
Cam turned in her seat. “Aunt Lorna, for crying out loud. Nothing’s been confirmed, yet. Roger and I are still discussing things.”
“Meaning that you’re dragging your feet when you should be pouncing on his proposal.”
Jacki slouched in her seat. “I think she should keep dragging her feet for another decade.”
“Nobody asked you, young lady.”
Leaning forward again, Jacki said to Dean, “If I end up stuffed in some hideous bridesmaid dress, then you’re going to have to bite the bullet and wear a tux.”
Dean felt that damn constriction around his windpipe again. They all spoke as if his attendance to a family wedding was a given. Maybe he should discuss it with Cam…. No. Who she married was none of his business, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw Jacki watching him, waiting for his reaction. “Buckle up.”
She hadn’t expected that. “I never wear a seat belt.”
Such a rebel. “My car, my rules.”
“Is it your car?” Lorna asked, and he heard her skepticism.
Did she consider a nice sedan beyond his means? Dean wondered. Or did she assume he’d have something rich and sporty, as most of the other fighters did? He’d already told her, image wasn’t one of his major considerations.
“It’s a rental. Back home I have a truck that’s probably as old as you.” Lorna gasped at that dig, but he didn’t give her a chance to voice her insult. “It’s not much to look at on the outside, but it gets me where I’m going. I don’t get to drive it that often since I’m so seldom home. I end up with a lot of rentals or sometimes leases. I looked at a few cars today and I think I’ve found one I want.” He started the engine, but didn’t put the car in gear. “We’re not going anywhere until everyone buckles up.”
Full of impatience, Cam looked at Lorna, and she gave up and latched the seat belt into place. “You do realize that some people have died because they wore a seat belt.”
“Far more lived because of them.” Dean pulled away from the curb. “So where to?”
Cam gave him quick directions. “It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes or so to get there.”
Silence reigned for about fifteen seconds, then Jacki asked, “So what type of car are you getting?”
“Nothing too fancy. Just a Sebring Convertible. Here, take a look at this.” He lifted the trifold color brochure off his dash and handed it back to Jacki. “I like the red one.”
“Wow.” Jacki studied the photos. “Nice.”
“There’s a good short-term lease.”
“Short term?” Cam asked.
Dean honestly didn’t know how long he’d hang around. “It has the option to buy later.”
“Must be nice.” Jacki handed the brochure back to him. “I have to get rides from other people, and it sucks.”
Cam rolled her eyes. “Like you don’t have a dozen guys just waiting for a reason to give you a lift.”
“It’s not the same as having my own car.”
“So why don’t you get one?” Dean asked.
“Some of us,” Lorna informed
him, “aren’t made of money.”
“Aunt Lorna,” Cam warned. And then to Dean, “We can’t afford it right now, not with college and everything else.”
Given Jacki’s appearance that afternoon, he thought she’d either skipped college or gotten a two-year degree. “What’s your major?”
“Elementary Education.”
Dean almost choked, but he managed to hold it in. “You’re going to be a teacher?”
“That’s the plan. But the way things are going, I won’t get my degree anytime soon.”
Had he tripped into another touchy subject with her? “If you’re having trouble with your classes…”
“Trouble paying for them, not passing them.” The sarcasm came through loud and clear. “Money that should have gone for college got diverted elsewhere.”
Dean was thinking that he didn’t want to know about their financial situation, so no way in hell would he ask, when Lorna snapped, “You listen to me, young lady. Despite what your sister tells you, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
Tension crackled in the air. Cam turned in her seat. “Well. Now that we’ve aired our dirty laundry for Dean, do you think we can all concentrate on having a good time?”
Jacki snorted. “Oh, sure. Count on it.”
Dean knew women well enough to know that Cam was mortified, and Jacki was hurt, and that’s what decided him. Between loans and a job, Jacki should be able to handle her tuition. “Where do you work?”
She leaned closer to the window, so close that her nose almost touched the glass. “I don’t have a job.”
“You don’t…” The idea of a twenty-one-year-old adult not working had never occurred to him. “Seriously?”
Like a mother hen, Cam pounced on him. “I wanted her to concentrate on her grades. I know how hard it was for me, working and studying.”
“Hard work never killed anyone.” Dean caught Jacki’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “I worked my way through college. Sounds like your sister did, too.”
“You’re wrong.” Cam laced her fingers tightly together. “I dropped out without finishing.”
Dean grunted in disbelief. He wasn’t well acquainted with all of Cam’s traits, but he’d have put money on her being stubborn and proud. “I thought you said you attended a local college. How expensive could it have been?”