by Sandy Lowe
“Peter’s behind you.” Kaitlyn hoped Beck didn’t know exactly when Peter had appeared.
Beck’s eyes widened. She turned and tugged at the collar of her shirt in the sweetest self-conscious gesture. “Oh, hey, man. Did you need something?”
The adorable I’m-embarrassed-to-be-caught-kissing thing was making Kaitlyn feel bad for using Beck as a distraction long enough to alert the others. Not bad enough to regret having done it, but…
Peter smirked. “I’m looking for Eleanor. She was coming this way to find her coat.”
Kaitlyn made a scene of looking worriedly at the door and back to Peter. She was going to kill her friends when this was all over. “She, um, well, I think you should just go back into the ballroom. She’ll find you when she’s ready.” She was talking too loudly, hoping the others could hear her, since the sound of her and Beck falling against the door might not have been enough. Was it enough? She hated being the lookout. So much pressure.
“Do you know where she is?” Peter looked confused.
Kaitlyn looked to the door again and gave guilty and clueless her best shot. Honestly, if Peter was too thick to join the dots, she couldn’t help him.
“Is she in there?” Peter asked, like it wasn’t crazy obvious.
“Well, I, um…” Come on, just push past me and open the door so I can go home. She couldn’t look at Beck. The truth had to be plastered all over her face.
“Peter, I—”
“Move,” Peter said.
Kaitlyn let out a silent breath. Thank God. She scooted out of the way, and Peter swung the door open.
Kaitlyn didn’t want to see. She really didn’t. She was the kind of girl others loved to bring home to their parents. Family oriented. Traditional. She didn’t do threesomes, not even the fake kind. Her idea of a wild Saturday night was a glass of wine and a Sandra Bullock movie. But when Beck moved to follow Peter inside, her heart seized and she rushed to stop her. Oh God, if Beck saw. But she was too late. From behind her, Kaitlyn saw the way Beck’s spine stiffened in shock, heard all the air whoosh from her lungs. Uneasiness churned in her belly, and against her better judgment, Kaitlyn looked over Beck’s shoulder.
If she hadn’t known what to expect Kaitlyn would’ve lost her breath too. They were positioned against the wall opposite the door, Ryan behind Eleanor, her black shirt unbuttoned and her hair a rumpled mess. Eleanor was curved into her body like a spoon, and they were kissing with their arms around each other in a display worthy of a love scene in a movie. Maybe it was fake kissing, maybe it wasn’t. She didn’t want to know, she didn’t want to know, she didn’t…God. Sarah stood in front of Eleanor with Eleanor’s bra-covered breasts in her hands, watching them while shielding most of Eleanor from the doorway.
Once you got past the shock factor, it was a pretty good setup. Plainly obvious what they were doing, but Ryan was covered by Eleanor, who was covered by Sarah, who was still fully dressed. You couldn’t really see anything except the kiss and Eleanor’s bra. And it was quite a kiss.
Kaitlyn touched her lips remembering her own quite a kiss.
“What the fuck, Eleanor,” Peter yelled, and they all made a commendable attempt at shock and scrambling. It was maybe a tad too seamless. Sarah whipping up the front of Eleanor’s dress, and Ryan zipping the back in less than three seconds. They separated, Ryan casually fastening the buttons on her shirt, her white chef pants still buttoned.
“What…” Peter was turning puce. “Are you doing?”
None of them spoke. A picture was worth a thousand words. That’d been the point, after all.
Sarah touched Eleanor’s hand and she jumped. “Just having a little fun on my birthday, Pete. Surely you’re not going to hold it against me.” Her voice wobbled.
“Not going to…” Peter couldn’t seem to finish a sentence on the first try. “You’re cheating on me, you little bitch.”
Ryan took a step forward, but before she could defend Eleanor, Sarah spoke up. “Just like you were cheating on her.”
She winked cheerfully and traced a fingertip lazily down Eleanor’s bare arm. “Can’t blame you for being put out though. Damn. She’s a firecracker, isn’t she? Got a body like Jennifer Lopez. Too bad you walked in. I was really looking forward to fucking her.”
Peter’s fists clenched at his sides. “I was coming to find you to propose, Eleanor. I…” He faltered, looked completely baffled. “I was going to ask you to be my wife.”
With Ryan and Sarah flanking her, Eleanor found her voice again. “Sorry. I’ve decided I’m done with you. Maybe there’s still time to ask the girl you met at a bar this afternoon, though? I hear she’s as stupid as she is ugly.”
Kaitlyn tugged on Beck’s hand. “Come on,” she whispered. “We need to leave.”
In all the drama, no one had noticed Beck standing two feet behind Peter in the doorway, and Kaitlyn wanted to spare her any further awkwardness. Okay, and spare herself too. Just what were you doing with your ex-girlfriend, Kaitlyn? She winced. Yeah, she’d put that conversation off for as long as possible.
They left without a word, leaving the door open behind them, now that everyone was decent.
Once again, Kaitlyn had no idea what to say. There wasn’t anything she could say. Nothing that didn’t make her sound like an ass. How exactly did you explain that you had to make a bunch of noise so your friends could fake a threesome? That you just had to kiss the one woman you’d vowed never to kiss again? That you never expected the kiss to actually mean something? That it’d seemed like a good idea at the time, wasn’t going to cut it.
“What was that?” Beck asked once they were standing just outside the doors to the ballroom. “I mean, were they really…you know. With you standing outside the whole time?”
Why had Beck shown up at just the wrong moment? Why had Kaitlyn panicked and kissed her instead of sending her away? Now it looked as if Kaitlyn had been in on the whole thing, and the worst part was that she had been in on it, fake or not.
“It’s complicated,” she said, hedging.
“Are they all…” Beck paused, searching for the right word. “Having an affair together?”
Kaitlyn flushed. “No.” God. This was so much worse than she’d expected. “It was staged. We caught Peter cheating, even though he didn’t see us see it, so they decided it would be a good idea to get a little revenge, before Eleanor broke up with him. Even the playing field a bit. I was just looking for Sarah, and then Eleanor wanted my help because Sarah was suggesting she kiss Ryan, and honestly, I happened to walk in on them devising the plan. I wasn’t a part of it at all, well, expect for the fact that it was kind of my idea. The threesome, I mean. They were just going to kiss at first, but it wasn’t enough, and I suggested they make it look like more.” Kaitlyn sucked in air and hoped she’d shut up soon. Did her motormouth have an off switch? She was so completed screwed.
Beck frowned. “That was staged?”
Kaitlyn wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. “Yeah. I know it was dumb, but Eleanor didn’t think she could just break it off without dinging Peter’s ego a bit.”
“Girls are vicious,” Beck said with more than a hint of admiration.
“Well, he did have sex with another woman, at a bar downtown, in public,” Kaitlyn said.
“And you saw it?” Beck wrinkled her nose.
“We saw enough. We had to tell Eleanor, and thus a plan was hatched. A dumb plan. But effective, it seems.”
Beck fell silent. She didn’t speak for so long the silence started to ring in Kaitlyn’s ears. “And kissing me, was that part of the plan too?”
Kaitlyn closed her eyes. Maybe, if she couldn’t see Beck, then she wasn’t really there, and she wouldn’t have to answer.
“Kait?” Beck asked.
Kaitlyn opened them again, and there she was. All sexy lips, and long lashes, and thick, wavy hair that was two weeks overdue for a trim. Dammit. “Yes and no. I was the lookout, obviously. I was supposed to alert the oth
ers when he arrived, but then you showed up, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do, so I kissed you as a distraction, and so I could bang on the door without being too suspect.”
“Wow,” Beck said. “Just wow.”
Kaitlyn risked a glance at her face, and the barest hint of a smile was playing on Beck’s mouth.
“I stand by my earlier statement, girls are vicious.”
“You’re not mad?” Kaitlyn asked.
“That you kissed me as a distraction because I was a handy hunk of beefcake?”
Kaitlyn groaned. “I didn’t! You’re not! I mean…what is a beefcake, exactly?”
Beck made a sad puppy face. “I feel so used.”
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“I’m irate. I’m going to call my senator and complain. Loose women, of looser morals, hatching plans to take down the patriarchy by appearing scantily clad in intriguing sexual positions. It has to be stopped.” Beck grinned.
“Beck.” Kaitlyn couldn’t help smiling back.
“Sarah fondling Eleanor has been the highlight of my night so far. Who knew they were a thing? Didn’t they hate each other, or am I misremembering?”
Kaitlyn swatted her on the arm. “No one was fondling, you pervert. It was staged.”
“Yeah. It looked terribly staged. All that kissing and stroking.”
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Kaitlyn said. “Maybe I should be jealous you seem more interested in Sarah and Eleanor than in our kiss.”
“Well…” Beck made a show of considering her options. “You were pretty satisfying, but I’ve had better.”
Kaitlyn winced. She’d set herself up for that one. “Then I guess we’d better head back in so you can find better.”
Kaitlyn turned to walk away, but Beck grabbed her hand. “I need to talk to you.”
“What could we possibly have to say to each other?” She couldn’t blame Beck for flinging her own words back in her face. Kaitlyn had said them first. But, well, maybe it stung just a little that Beck had gotten more of a rush out of Sarah and Eleanor’s faked rendezvous than the actual kiss she’d shared with her. Ugh. This night sucked.
“I came back to support Dad, but I wanted to see you as well.”
The butterfly wings started to reincarnate in Kaitlyn’s stomach. “You did?”
“Yeah, I—”
Mrs. Davenport, a widow of seventeen years, and, as legend had it, the one who wielded the knife that killed her husband, bustled out of the ballroom laughing merrily with a man half her age on each arm. They looked like all their Christmases had come, and Kaitlyn guessed it had a lot more to do with the zeros at the end of Mrs. Davenport’s bank balance than her fading beauty. She didn’t believe the rumors for a second, but had always steered clear nonetheless.
Beck and Kaitlyn had to step to the side or risk being run over.
“Can we go somewhere more private?” Beck asked.
Did Kaitlyn want to? Before tonight, she’d have said no way and not even blinked. Beck had left her, her heart dead by crush injury and her dignity in tatters. But damn if that kiss hadn’t brought it pumping back to life. Not to mention other parts of her anatomy.
“I have no idea where. If you think I’m going upstairs with you, Delmar, you have another thing coming. The kiss wasn’t that good.” She was such a liar. It was totally that good.
Beck grinned. “Sweet talker. I know just the place. Follow me.” Beck grabbed her hand and headed toward the front doors.
Kaitlyn bit her lip. She’d followed Beck with stars in her eyes and dreams in her head when she was just sixteen. She was older now, but was she really any smarter?
Chapter Eighteen
For the Love of Kait
Kaitlyn stopped so abruptly Beck almost pulled her shoulder out of its socket as she forged ahead, Kaitlyn’s hand still in hers.
“What’s wrong?” Beck asked.
“We’re in the parking lot.” Well, what served as a parking lot anyway. It was more an orderly assembly of town cars and sports cars, and many other kinds of cars Kaitlyn didn’t know the names of. All of them expensive.
“Yup. Mine’s here somewhere. Damn valet, where did he put it?” Beck tugged Kaitlyn along, and too perplexed to put up a fight, Kaitlyn followed.
“We’re going to your car? Why?”
“Because spring is playing peekaboo and it’s getting too cold to stand around outside. The car’s warm, and best of all, private.” Beck stopped at a red SUV with black accents and a barely discernible Range Rover logo. She opened the back passenger door for Kaitlyn. “It’s this or a bedroom upstairs at the McGregor place, and something tells me if we get in a room with a bed, you won’t be able to resist my charms.”
Kaitlyn scoffed. “Don’t count on it. I only kissed you to facilitate a threesome between my friends, remember? You were collateral damage.”
Beck grinned. “Oh, honey, I remember. Where are they, and kiss me again.”
Why did she keep doing this to herself? Kaitlyn was being ridiculous, she knew she was, but it wasn’t fair. She wanted Beck to think she’d kissed her as a means to an end, because there was no way Kaitlyn was going to admit she’d wanted it, but when Beck was on board with that, and completely unaffected by their kiss, Kaitlyn wanted to stamp her feet.
Why couldn’t Beck be weak-kneed and desperate for more? Begging her for a second chance? That way Kaitlyn could be the one who shrugged it off and pretended like it was nothing special. Like Beck was nothing special. She wanted Beck to want her, just so she could be the one who did the dumping this time. She was a terrible person.
It hit a little too close to the “let’s fake a threesome to get back at your cheating ex” scenario for her comfort zone. She might not do something as crazy as a threesome, but she wasn’t above her own need for revenge, and that was small and shallow. What Beck did to her had broken her heart, but they were adults now, and setting someone up to fall wasn’t her style. She was better than that. Or she hoped she was.
“Two questions before I consent to getting into a strange car with an untrustworthy woman.” She’d meant it as a joke, but the flash of pain in Beck’s eyes stalled anything else she might’ve said. “I didn’t—”
Beck smiled and winked at her, the emotion masked almost as quickly as it had appeared. “I promise, if you hop inside, pretty girl, I’ll give you candy.”
Kaitlyn swallowed. Candy was the last thing on her mind, but the deliciously devious tone Beck was using had her thinking of some very specific things that, if memory served her, tasted even better. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” Kaitlyn prayed Beck couldn’t tell where her mind had just been.
“Damn. That usually works too.” Beck sighed dramatically. “Okay, what are your questions?”
“Why is your car unlocked, and since when do you drive a Range Rover?”
Beck pulled a key fob smaller than a matchbox out of her pocket. “The car senses the key and unlocks itself.”
“Huh.” Kaitlyn could fit what she knew about cars on the back of that key. “So, the car is telepathic? That’s cool.”
Beck looked at her like she’d just said the sky was green. “It’s not telepathic. It’s a smart key. There’s a sensor inside the car that picks up on the sensor inside the key, and—” She stopped herself. “Do you actually care?”
Kaitlyn shrugged. “Not really.”
Beck rolled her eyes. “To answer your other question, it’s Dad’s car. I gave mine up when I moved to DC. He’s letting me borrow it.”
“Ah,” Kaitlyn said. “Midlife crisis red didn’t seem like your style. You’re more of a low-slung sports car in muted gray type.”
“Oh, I am, huh?”
“Yup. Expensive, but too classy to flaunt it,” Kaitlyn said before she could think better of it.
“If I promise to be classy, will you get in?” Beck asked.
Kaitlyn got in. Beck walked around front to start the engine, ran the heat, and turned on the overh
ead light, before hopping in the other side.
“So here we are,” Kaitlyn said in an ominous horror movie voice. “What’s so secretive you had to whisk me away?”
Beck had turned to face her, but she stared somewhere past Kaitlyn’s right ear. She was a little pale in the glow of the overhead light, and Kaitlyn couldn’t help but reach out and touch her cheek. “Hey. I’m sorry. Is it your dad? Is something else going on you didn’t tell me?”
“No,” Beck assured her. “It’s not that. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I was a real shit to you in high school. I loved you like crazy, but getting into Harvard, and Mom and Dad’s expectations. It blew my mind.”
Kaitlyn rubbed at her nose. Okay, so apparently, they were going to go there, even though it helped no one and solved nothing now. Pain stabbed her chest, turning an emotional ache into a physical one. Why did it still have to hurt so much? “I appreciate that. But if you really are sorry, then admit that you left because it’s what you wanted. Your parents might have pressured you the way anyone would with an acceptance to an Ivy. But if you’d really wanted to stay, New York has some pretty great colleges, too.”
Beck shifted on the seat. “I wanted to stay. But I wanted to go too. I was seventeen. I wanted to prove myself. I had to find out who I was outside my family’s shadow. Can you understand that?”
Kaitlyn wasn’t sure if Beck had phrased the question that way to suggest Kaitlyn couldn’t understand because her family was dead, or if Beck was simply pleading for forgiveness for a decision that had cost Kaitlyn everything she’d ever truly cared about. Either way, Kaitlyn wasn’t handing out redemption.
“What I understand is that you wanted to go more than you wanted to stay,” Kaitlyn said, fighting to keep her voice from wavering. “I couldn’t have followed you, not with Forrester Fund on my shoulders. You knew that. You had no such obligation at that age, and you chose to leave. It’s not like we’re from Podunk Nebraska. We live in one of the best cities in the world. You could’ve been a lawyer here too.”