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Causing Havoc

Page 24

by Lori Foster


  As he worked his thumbs down the insides of her feet, Dean watched her toes curl again. “Probably a lot of things.”

  “Like?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think I’m very good at dealing with sisters.”

  Both eyes opened. “Oh?” Eve sat up a little more. “Why’s that?”

  “They’re not what I expected.”

  “You didn’t expect nice?”

  No, he hadn’t. In his mind, he’d built them up to be selfish and self-serving—as if they’d had a hand in booting out a nine-year-old boy. He’d anticipated meeting two pampered, privileged women who he’d find uninteresting and obnoxious.

  Instead they were sweet and kind, loving and likable.

  Everything sisters should be.

  That all sounded melodramatic enough for poetry, so Dean kept the thoughts to himself and instead, he said, “I’m buying Jacki a car.”

  CHAPTER 16

  EVE’S spoon fell out of her hand and hit the bowl with a clatter. Shock widened her eyes and left her soft lips parted. She gulped. “You’re buying her a car?”

  Dean shook his head with impatience. “Not a new car and not anything fancy. Actually she might refuse to drive it.”

  “No,” Eve said. “She won’t. She’ll be thrilled.”

  He hoped so. “It’s a little Escort four speed. An economy car. It’s basic, but solid. It doesn’t even have automatic windows.” And in his defense, Dean added, “She needs her own transportation, damn it, her own independence, and—”

  “Dean.” Eve sniveled, her lips trembled, and she covered her face to muffle a sob.

  Taken aback, Dean stared at her and realized she was actually ready to cry over it. Looking toward the heavens, Dean fell back into the couch. “Why the hell do women always do that?”

  “I’m on my period,” she snapped tearfully. “That’s why.” Using a baggy sleeve on the jersey, she wiped the tears off her cheeks. “If my emotional outbursts bother you, then you can just leave.”

  “Why are you always trying to get rid of me?”

  She shot back, “Why are you insulting me?”

  Not about to retreat, Dean let out a long aggrieved sigh. “I didn’t mean the crying, honey. That’s just female.” He took in her clumped lashes and red nose, then added, “And it’s kind of cute.”

  “Cute?” Her tear-damp face scrunched in anger. “Of all the sexist—”

  To avoid an argument, Dean quickly interrupted. “I meant making a big deal out of nothing. The car wasn’t that expensive.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “I stopped by the dealership on my way home.” Dean felt sheepish—and that was an entirely new sensation for him. “They were still open.”

  “So…” Eve dabbed at her eyes as she carefully picked her words. “You already bought the car?”

  “I pick it up tomorrow.”

  More tears trickled out, and she dashed them away. “Does Jacki know yet?”

  “No.”

  “Does Cam know?”

  He shook his head.

  “Uh-oh.” Swinging her feet out of his lap and to the floor, Eve sat up. After a second of deep contemplation, she turned to him. “Cam won’t like it, Dean.”

  “It has nothing to do with her. This is between Jacki and me.”

  “Jacki doesn’t have car insurance. That is, I’m sure Cam has her insured as a part-time driver on her car, but that’s only—”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  She stared at him, and her face started to crumple again.

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Dean shot to his feet and paced away. “I’m a single man with very few expenses. No kids or home or anything like that. Cam has enough on her plate. It’s not a big deal for me to help out a little.”

  “Buying a car and insuring it is not a ‘little’ help. It’s an enormous contribution.”

  “Not from where I stand.” Needing her to understand, Dean explained, “And don’t think it has anything to do with being a big brother or any of that other clichéd crap.”

  “No, nothing clichéd about it,” she agreed. “It has to do with you being a good guy.”

  Dean rolled his eyes. “Knock it off, Eve.”

  She stared at him in near adoration. “I wish I wasn’t on my period.”

  Surprised, he asked, “Why?”

  “Because right now, you’re almost irresistible.”

  That irritated him all over again. “Just because I bought a damn car—”

  “Actually it has little to do with the car, so don’t get defensive.” While appearing to mull things over, Eve smoothed the hem of the shirt over her knees. “It’s not any one thing, Dean. It’s the whole package. The bod and the face, the attitude and confidence, your ability and your honor—”

  Honor? Of all the…

  “I want you, too. A lot.” Dean had to stop her before she sainted him. Hell, if he wasn’t immune to a blush, he’d be red faced for sure. “But I don’t mind waiting until you’re more comfortable.”

  With a wobbly smile, Eve reached out her hand to him. The second Dean reseated himself, she crawled right into his lap and snuggled against his chest. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time earlier today.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  “And I’m glad you insisted on coming over despite my grumpy mood.”

  “Me, too.” Dean meant it. A lot of the unsettled worry he’d carried had dissipated while talking with Eve. “You realize that I didn’t tell you about the car to seduce you or anything?”

  “I know.” Tilting her head back on his shoulder, Eve smiled at him. She slipped her hand around his warm throat to the side of his neck. “Dean?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Why did you tell me?”

  Hell if he knew. But talking with Eve was easy. She knew his sisters, cared about them, and expected him to do the same. Unlike Gregor, she wouldn’t harass him about assisting Cam.

  No, she just cried over it.

  Making a big production out of rearranging her ponytail, Dean smoothed it down her back. Eve needed an answer, so he cupped her cheek, touched her eyebrows with his thumb. “I guess…it was bothering me. What Cam and Jacki are going through, I mean.”

  “What are they going through?”

  He looked away from her insightful gaze. “Hell, I don’t know. It’s just that I always figured—that is, I assumed—that they had the better bargain after our folks died. Not that Uncle Grover was bad. He wasn’t. I cared a lot about him.”

  “You loved him.”

  Dean nodded. He felt no shame in his feelings for Grover. “And respected him and liked and admired him. He was a hell of a role model. Fair without thinking about it. Considerate almost by accident.”

  “Honorable,” she said with conviction.

  Dean frowned at her. “Grover was strong as a horse and determined to have things his own way, but never by force or abuse.”

  “Hmmm. Sounds like someone I know.”

  To keep her from singing his praises again, Dean picked up her hand and examined her fingers. So delicate and feminine, but with a woman’s strength.

  He imagined them wrapped around his cock, squeezing, stroking, and lust twisted through him. Feeling her warm, soft weight in his lap, her gentle breaths, Dean knew it’d be easy to change her mind about lovemaking during her monthly.

  But he wouldn’t.

  Lacking a rationale that he could easily discern, Dean wanted her to know that he could enjoy her company with or without the benefit of sex. Dropping his head back on the couch and closing his eyes helped him to stay focused on their conversation.

  “When I compare Grover with Lorna, it torments me, because I have to admit that I’ve lived with things backward in my mind.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I had the bargain,” he insisted. “I always felt like I’d been kicked out. Now…now I feel like I abandoned them.”

  “Dean.” Eve squirmed around on his lap, making D
ean’s teeth lock, until she could kiss his chin. “Don’t think that Lorna was all bad. She wasn’t.” With a gentle touch, Eve brought his face down to hers. “Cam and Jacki had whatever they really needed.”

  “Not love.” And not me. His hands clenched. “They didn’t have affection, either.” That resounding fact was made utterly clear every time Dean witnessed Lorna with them.

  “I don’t know. Lorna’s an odd duck. On the surface, she might seem to care mostly about appearances and her own comfort.”

  “With Lorna, I’m not sure there’s anything below the surface.”

  Eve poked him in the ribs. “She took Cam and Jacki to the doctor when necessary. They never missed a dental appointment. They might not have had the newest fads in clothes or makeup, but they were always decently dressed and clean.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “That has to count for something, right?”

  With every word Eve spoke, Dean felt more pained. He put a hand to Eve’s back and rubbed. “Sometimes, in the countries where we worked, the nearest doctor was a day’s drive away. Only in the case of an emergency did you bother with a doctor.”

  “Somehow I can’t imagine you being ill very often.”

  “I rarely am. I think I built up a great immune system.” Without even realizing it, Dean’s hand had wandered from Eve’s back to her hip. He raised it again. “If I went to the dentist, it was because I had a toothache. And clothes were things you bought when there were too many rips to keep them together.”

  Eve made a wry face. “Huh. Well, maybe that explains your choice of wardrobe now.”

  Because he wore ragged jeans and a faded black SBC shirt, Dean laughed. “Comfort will explain most of what I do.”

  “Right. Like getting the crap beat out of you in the ring?”

  Pretending to dump her off his lap, Dean listened to her squeal, then righted her again, saying, “Smart-ass. I catch a few punches here and there. That’s unavoidable. But they pay me well to fight because I fill the stands.”

  She looked dubious, and damned if Dean didn’t feel defensive again.

  Other than negotiating a new contract, he never discussed money with anyone, mostly because he didn’t allow a dollar sign to define him as a fighter or a man. He’d grown adept at avoiding a direct reply to media inquiries, and anyone daring enough to ask out of sheer nosiness got rudely put in place.

  But this time, before Dean could censor himself, the words came out. “I get a quarter of a million just to step in the ring.”

  Eve’s jaw dropped.

  “Winning gets me more, and as I told you, Eve, I usually win.”

  When she finally found her voice, Eve gasped. “I had no idea.”

  “I noticed.”

  She shoved back from his chest to glare at him. “I wasn’t asking about your personal finances.”

  “No, you were just assuming a lot.” He gave her a look. “All of it bad.”

  Her gaze skipped over him, and she relented. “Okay, so you dress for comfort. I believe it.”

  Damn it, did she have to sound so sarcastic. “It bothers you?”

  “No. Why should it?”

  Even the less-than-astute Roger had noticed they were fast becoming an item. “You’re a regular fashion plate, honey, and I’m far from it. That’s why.”

  “So?”

  “You’re seen in public with me.”

  Her absurd look of confusion wouldn’t fool anyone. “But it’s not like we’re married or anything. We’re not even really all that involved.”

  Her denial of a real relationship had Dean stiffening with unreasonable affront. In a cold whisper full of challenge, he said, “You don’t think so?”

  “Of course not.” As if she mistook his mood and wanted to reassure him, Eve patted his chest. “Don’t worry, Dean. I won’t forget that you’re here for a visit only and that you’ll be taking off again soon.”

  “I don’t know when I’m leaving.”

  She just smiled. “But you know you’re not staying. So I won’t complicate things, I promise.”

  “Damn it, Eve—”

  “I’m enjoying you a lot; I won’t lie about that. While you’re here, I hope to see you more. But I won’t make the mistake of falling for you.”

  “You won’t, huh?” He’d have to see about her determination to keep him at arm’s length. If he put his mind to it, he could get her to—What the hell was he thinking?

  Dean scowled at her, though his irritation was mostly self-directed because of his gut reaction to her lack of interest.

  “No, I won’t. You don’t have to worry about me trying to change you in any way. How you dress is none of my business and I know it.” After she said that, she dared to smile and touch her fingertips to his collarbone in an innocent caress that set him on fire. “Besides, no matter what you wear or don’t wear, you look pretty darn hunky to me.”

  Shit. Dean knew he needed to get his mind on other things ASAP. His physical need for Eve was hard enough to resist. Now he wanted to seduce her into admitting it was more than physical for her.

  Because it was more than that for him.

  He hadn’t known her long enough to feel the way he did. The rational part of his brain told him that, but every other inch of his body, psyche, and soul insisted that time frames didn’t matter one iota. Not this time.

  He knew part of his fascination with Eve might be her close relationship to his sisters. She had an inside track with Cam and Jacki; already she knew them better than he ever would, guaranteed by a shared history that he’d missed.

  But Dean was smart enough to know that not just any woman would have drawn him so easily. From the moment he’d spied Eve standing there in Roger’s bar he’d felt the chemistry. Just as she had. From the jump, he’d wanted her, and having her hadn’t made the craving go away. If anything, knowing her intimately had only intensified things.

  Catching Eve’s playful fingers, Dean held her hand flat on his abdomen and asked something that had been bothering him for a while. “Does Cam know how our parents died?”

  The question stumped Eve. “What do you mean? They died in a car wreck, right.”

  “That’s all Cam knows about it?”

  Growing more concerned, Eve said, “Why? What else is there to know?”

  “She’s never said anything more to you?”

  “Dean.” Eve scooted off his lap before he could stop her. “I’m not in a tolerant mood today, as you already know. Stop playing around and tell me what’s going on.”

  Dean ran a hand over his hair. Should he tell Eve before Cam and Jacki knew? He could trust her not to say anything. That wasn’t the point.

  Thinking aloud, Dean said, “I’m not even sure they should know. I mean, it’s not a nice story for a daughter to hear.” He turned his head toward Eve, and said by way of question, “I can’t imagine that either of the girls remembers much about our parents?”

  “No. And with almost all the photos missing, they didn’t have any visual reminders to grow up with.”

  “That might be a good thing.” In fact, perhaps that was Lorna’s reasoning for removing all the photos. Could she have altruistic motives after all?

  No. Dean didn’t think so. “Some people aren’t cut out to be parents.”

  “Meaning Lorna?”

  He shook his head. “You know I was nine years old when my mother and father died.”

  “A very young boy.”

  “Not mature by any stretch,” he agreed, “but old enough to remember my friends, the games we played and the scuffles we got into. Unfortunately I can’t recall much other than a few brief smiles from my mother. My memory is of a beautiful woman who didn’t look or act like a mother.”

  Eve settled back into the couch and listened quietly.

  “She hired people to care for Cam and Jacki and only involved herself enough to dictate how they were dressed, so that her friends would go on about how cute they were.”

  “What about you?”

&n
bsp; “Boys were a father’s responsibility.” He shrugged, remembering his mother’s sentiments. “But Dad was the type who enjoyed the image of a family man, and not the family itself. When he wasn’t working, he was golfing with his business buddies, making connections. That sort of thing.”

  “As you said, you were only nine when they died. It was an awful time, losing your folks, being removed from your home. Maybe you aren’t remembering it exactly right.”

  She sounded hopeful and sad. Dean smiled. Eve had said she wanted children someday. He instinctively knew she’d be a loving, caring mother. Seeing her interaction with her own family shored up that impression, and then there was her close, caring relationship with Cam.

  “Because your parents are so close with you, it probably seems impossible to you for a mother and father to be so detached. But that’s how it was. I do remember a lot of it, and what I don’t remember was there in photographs and letters. Anything that wasn’t real clear to me, my uncle helped me with.”

  “And you don’t think he might have a skewed perception of things?”

  “No.” Dean touched her face—and unburdened himself. “My mother was having a long-standing affair. My father found her in bed, in our family home, with another man. I was out playing with friends, but Cam and Jacki were there, supposedly down for a nap with the nanny watching over them.”

  “Dear God.”

  Dean dropped his hand. “According to the nanny, there was a lot of screaming. The man left…and my mother went with him.”

  Eve sat there, speechless.

  “I guess my father wasn’t ready to let her go. Or maybe he was too angry to let her lover just walk away. He drove after them, both cars were going too fast, and that’s how they wrecked. Ironically, though my parents were in separate cars, they both died.” Dean shook his head. “Mother’s lover didn’t.”

  Her face pale, her hands twisted together, Eve whispered, “Cam and Jacki have no idea.”

  “I figured as much, but I wasn’t a hundred percent certain. Lorna knows. She could have told them.” He shrugged. “She and Grover were at the house together after the funeral when the man showed up.”

  Eve’s hand slipped into his. In a voice tinged with anger, she asked, “Where were you?”

 

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