by Mary Beesley
“I need to leave,” Tempest said.
“No. Then he wins. It will look like you’re running away from him.”
“I am.”
“Take Tyson with you. Then it’s like you left with a man.”
“I don’t want Tyson—” Her words cut off as the door opened.
Dean led Leo into the bedroom. “I got it at a flea market,” Dean said. “It’s super dope. You’re going to love—” The men stopped, both gazes landing on Tempest’s bra…well, more accurately the cleavage pillowing out of it.
Tempest lifted her sweater to cover her front.
“Woohoo. Looks like we’re just in time for the strip show,” Dean said with a slightly drunken drawl, taking another step forward.
“Not funny,” Blair said.
“I’m kidding, babe.” But Dean hadn’t taken his gaze off Tempest’s partly covered torso.
“Get out.” Blair’s eyes turned to coal chips.
Leo, face stony but pink, turned and pulled his friend into the hallway. The door closed.
Blair, bless her terrible soul, burst out laughing. “You definitely win this round.”
Tempest flopped over the bed, her arms up to air out her sweaty armpits. “Everyone is losing.” One of the recessed lights in the ceiling had burned out. “Except you and Dean. And my dad and Silvia.”
“You and Leo…soon to be siblings.” Blair laughed harder.
Tempest threw a pillow, hitting Blair in the side of the head.
With visible effort, Blair reined in her mockery. She stood. “While you’re deciding the fate of the world, I’m going to pee.” She disappeared into the bathroom.
When Tempest was alone, she sat up with a jolt, realizing she didn’t want to be lying anywhere near Dean’s bed. Blair’s perfume drifted up from the blanket. Tempest put her sweater on and checked her face on her phone. A little flushed, but the light was dim enough in the front room no one would likely notice. She cracked open the bathroom door and spoke over the sound of tinkling.
“Thanks for bringing me tonight. I’m heading home. You okay here?”
“Yes. Sorry about Leo. Dean didn’t think he was coming.”
“It’s fine. I had fun.”
“See you tomorrow. Love you, Stormie.”
“Love you too, Sticks.”
Tempest crept down the hall as quietly as she could in her heels. Leo stood where the hall spilled into the main room, his back to her as he talked to a pretty blond. The twelve inches between his shoulder and the wall looked like enough room to slip behind him without touching him. Tempest sped up to pass, but he turned at the wrong second, spearing her side with an elbow. She exhaled a small grunt.
He reached out on reflex and steadied her with a hand on her upper arm. She hadn’t needed steadying until he touched her, sending a spark through her system.
“Excuse me, I’m so sor…” He looked up and saw her. He dropped his hand as if she were hot lava.
“Hi,” she said.
He didn’t smile. Neither did she. But she didn’t look away. Couldn’t look anywhere but the smooth planes of his face, his unearthed lips, plump and flushed and calling to her. Was he so sexy because he was off limits now? Or was it the new face? Or maybe the devil was paying her a visit tonight, but she wanted him like a flame wanted air. She brought her fingers to his jaw. He stilled, his breath catching. She ran her thumb along his cheekbone.
“It’s so soft.” Her voice was smoke and velvet.
His pupils popped wide as the night sky. His voice came out hoarse. “The barber does this hot-towel thing that gets a super-close shave.”
She nearly gave in, fell headlong into that glimmering gaze, discovered what kissing that smooth pine-scented skin would taste like. She might have if she had finished that drink; as it was, she was thinking too clearly. This could only end badly. Mitigating her risk, she dropped her hand. “Okay. Have a great night.” She stepped to the side of him.
He stuck his arm in front of her and caught her around the waist. His fingers burned hot all the way through the fabric. Her abs tightened, but her insides melted.
“Tempest, wait.”
Hormones surged, serving up two choices in her mind—battle or embrace. She gritted her teeth and spun, pushing his arm away. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Regret tugged at her heart at the look of shocked injury in his wide gaze.
“I don’t think she wants you to touch her, dude.” Tyson appeared at her side.
Crap. She’d said that last sentence way too loudly.
“Who are you?” Leo asked, voice hard and annoyed.
“I’m the guy who’s not going to let you get away with disrespecting women.”
Leo’s nostrils flared.
“And who are you?” Tyson’s tone turned challenging. Pectoral muscles flexed beneath his shirt.
Leo looked to Tempest. She waited for him to make up some bullshit name. His jaw twitched like he’d been caught, like he knew her thoughts. He turned on Tyson. “You need to butt out. I’m not some random jerk disrespecting Tempest. I’m her br—”
“Don’t you dare say brother.” She pointed a stiff finger at his chest, her worst fear bubbling up.
He swallowed, his face tensing as he seemed to recognize his monumental mistake.
And she had almost kissed him two seconds ago.
Tyson’s whole demeanor changed, a goofy grin appearing. “Her brother! Oh. That makes so much sense. Sorry, man.”
“No. I’m not…” Leo stopped talking. His face went white with dismay.
Zena approached, throwing an arm over Leo and another over Tempest. “Family meeting?” She chuckled at her own joke. “What did I miss?”
Blair appeared. She looked over the trio of soon-to-be siblings and turned right back around. She walked over to Dean and slipped under his arm. His hand drifted down Blair’s side. Tempest wanted Leo’s hands on her hips.
“I think I’m going to take off.” Tempest stepped out from under Zena.
Leo opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Tyson said, “I’ll come with you.”
Leo’s jaw rippled, and as much as Tempest wanted the satisfaction of him watching her leave with another man, she didn’t want to leave with Tyson anymore.
She sent Tyson an apologetic smile. “No. You should stay. I’m not feeling well, and I’m heading straight home.”
His face drooped. “Are you sure? Let me at least walk you out.”
Leo’s voice was cold. “She said she doesn’t want you to. Maybe you should respect what she said.”
Zena’s jaw came unhinged as she looked from her brother to Tyson and back again.
“Bye, y’all.” Tempest marched out the front door without looking back.
****
Leo felt as if he were being dragged through the fourth level of hell. His insides froze and his skin boiled as he watched Tempest walk out that door.
The family camping trip was a terrible idea—his terrible idea. But not worse than saying he was Tempest’s brother just to one-up that guy.
That guy turned on Leo. “Dude, I’m a nice guy. You didn’t have to do me wrong like that.”
“You can’t seriously be wanting to pick a fight with me right now.”
“Just give me her number.”
Leo felt as if he’d been doused with cold water.
“She was going to before you got all weird about us and made her leave.”
Satisfaction clashed with fury, but only a hint of his simmering emotions came out in his cold voice. “There is no way in hell I would give her number to you. And I had nothing to do with her wanting to get away from you.”
Zena stood between the two men, wide eyes darting back and forth.
“What is your problem?”
“At the moment, you.” Leo had no idea what he was saying, but the words felt good.
The guy had inches on Leo and arms the size of saplings. A dangerous gleam darkened his face. Big hands fist
ed at his sides. Leo stared back, his own heartbreak making him bold. He almost wanted the stranger to hit him—a distraction from the pain inside. For maybe the first time in his life, this computer nerd wanted to brawl. The big man finally shook his head and lumbered away, muttering curses under his breath.
“Did that just happen?” Zena coughed out a stunned laugh.
“That guy was a dick.”
“Seriously, who are you right now?”
He glared at her, still steaming from the confrontation, still seeing the image of Tempest without her sweater on.
Zena laughed. “Already acting the protective older brother to your new baby sis?” She thumped him on the shoulder. “You do it so well.”
Horrors.
She dropped her arm. “Although I don’t think Tempest appreciates it as much as I do.”
He hissed out a heavy sigh. “I guess I should apologize to her again.”
She pursed red lips. “No. It’s so not a big deal. That woman needs to chill.”
He bristled but swallowed the arguments that rushed to his tongue. He was not talking to Zena about Tempest. The whole point of this party was to move on, but his face still tingled where Tempest had laid claim to his jaw and cheek with her velvet touch, and his blood still boiled in anticipation of fighting over her.
“Come on,” Zena said. “There’s Tasha and Jill.”
He didn’t follow his sister over to the group of ladies gathered near the dining table. He went to the bar. Dean and Blair cornered him in the kitchen. Please not the roommate right now.
“Arty.” Blair’s voice was colder than the ice in his plastic cup.
He refused to respond to that name.
“Thanks for scaring Tempest off.”
He turned. “I did not…” He stopped talking. He wouldn’t win this argument with Blair. He exhaled and looked into her dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Blair. I didn’t mean to lie to Tempest, or cost her her job, or hurt her. After I found out about your hideous bet, I was afraid she wouldn’t give me a chance once she knew who I was. I really liked her.” His voice dropped, and he looked down at his cup. “I still like her. I’m a mess at relationships.”
“That’s true, he is,” Dean said.
Leo did not appreciate the support.
Blair softened. “I believe you.” She sighed grandly. “Well, are you going to remain a coward, or are you going to go fix this?”
Leo blinked, wishing it were that easy but fearing starting over was impossible. He’d ruined his opportunity with Tempest. He washed down the terrible tang of regret with a swallow of cheap beer. “You’re not going to tell me to stay far away from her?”
Blair shrugged. “Is that what I should be saying? Besides, seems futile to try and keep a brother and sister apart.” She grinned with pure wicked delight.
“You’ve got one sexy sister,” Dean said. Clearly, he’d had too many drinks tonight, and by the red-tinged look Blair speared him with, he was going to have to pay for that comment. And Leo didn’t think she would let the strip-show joke slide either. At least Leo wasn’t the only idiot here tonight.
Leo spoke, drawing her scowl away from Dean. “Oh, I see. This little conversation wasn’t to make friends. It was to continue the torture.”
She dropped the mockery and held out a hand. Her tone turned serious. “Friends.”
Leo accepted it. “Friends.”
Dean kissed her brow and grinned. “Look at us all getting along like one big happy family.”
Leo’s voice came out low and threatening. “Never use that word again.”
****
At nine thirty-six on Saturday morning, Blair stormed into the house and slammed the door. Her hair was a riot of tangled curls. Last night’s makeup ringed her eyes. She wore sweats and flip flops, her arms full of stuff.
Tempest dropped the fork she was using to whisk her eggs and slipped around the kitchen island. “What happened?”
Blair flung clothes and cosmetics cases over the couch. “Why are men such disgusting pigs?”
Tempest floundered for a clever response.
“I could have forgiven him for his insensitive comments while drinking.” Blair looked up and pointed a finger. “Although he needs to filter that too.” She slumped onto her clothes and slung a leg over the back of the couch, the picture of drama. “But this morning I woke up to him taking the nastiest dump—with the door wide open!”
Tempest burst out laughing.
Blair’s thick lips turned up. “I told him to shut the door and put some water on it. And do you know what he said?”
Tempest shook her head.
“He looked up, his eyes all red and his face waxy. I mean, I was right there on his bed, five feet away, and he goes, ‘You’re still here?’ With that exact tone, all unpleasant surprise.”
Tempest’s eyes widened. “Oh no, Dean.”
Blair tried to run her hand through her hair, but it got stuck. She jerked her fingers free. “I honestly think he was just being a hungover idiot, but I’m not okay with that.” Her bravado failed, and Tempest could see true sadness underneath.
“I’m sorry, babe.”
Blair’s eyes pinkened. “Yeah. I had liked him. At least the cool attractive him I first met, not the dumbass I went to bed with last night.”
Tempest knew just how her friend felt. And she didn’t admit she was a little glad it was over with Blair and Dean—one less connection to Leo. “I can make you some eggs.”
Blair laughed. “Eggs.” Her voice was incredulous. “Those are not going to cut it this morning.” She stood. “I’m showering, and then we are going to the grocery. Get ready for some serious culinary therapy.”
Tempest braced herself.
****
The gray sky reflected Tempest’s mood as she and Blair walked up to Jo’s house the next morning. Jo swung her front door wide and beamed. “Welcome to Fake Thanksgiving. Fakesgiving.”
Blair held up a baker’s box and nodded her head to indicate the two bags Tempest carried. “Pumpkin maple bars, as requested. And garlic rolls, mille-feuille, and coconut rice with pomegranates and pine nuts, because I felt like it.” This morning, as Blair packaged everything up to give away, she’d said all her comfort cooking had to go somewhere besides her own ass.
Jo clapped her hands. “Sounds amazing. Thank you so much.” Blair was the only one whose food was always welcome. Jo hustled them into the house and out of the damp cold. “Turkey’s got another fifteen minutes. We have hors d’oeuvres in the kitchen.”
“Auntie Blair!” Hannah ran up and hugged Blair’s legs, nearly knocking her over.
Jo snatched the box away from her before the precious maple bars met with disaster. “Hannah.” Jo’s voice was short, her brows drawn.
Blair leaned over and stroked Hannah’s brown curls. The start of a real smile brightened Blair’s face. “Hello, my tiny princess. What have you been up to?”
“I made you a painting. Come see.” Hannah took Blair’s hand and led her away.
“It’s like she didn’t even see me. I’m invisible,” Tempest said, her voice teasing. Blair had magic, and Tempest did not. And that was fine.
“I wouldn’t mind your superpower once in a while,” Jo said. “Or on the daily.”
“Ha.” Tempest followed her sister into the kitchen. Benji’s head appeared in the window, wreathed in a cloud of smoke from the grill on the patio. He waved at her with his tongs. Tempest set out Jo’s cutting board and sharpened a paring knife. Jo did not sharpen her knives enough. Tempest pulled the salad fixings from one of the bags she’d brought and got to work chopping the pears.
“So,” Jo said, picking up a fussing baby Harrison from the swing and patting him against her shoulder, “how have we not talked about Thursday? Dad’s engaged! How do we even feel about this?”
Tempest was not about to untangle that answer. “He seems really happy, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. I mean, I know he’s been so lonely. And I wa
nt him to be happy, but I feel weird. Mom just died.”
“It was over a year ago.”
Jo pursed her lips and snitched a slice of pear from Tempest’s pile.
“Is she going to be good for him?”
“Two divorces isn’t a good track record.”
Tempest sprinkled the pears over the mixed greens and added glazed walnuts. “Do they have a date for the wedding?”
“Dad wants March.”
Tempest jolted. “That’s so soon.”
“It’s whatever.” Jo waved a hand. “As long as we don’t have to plan it.”
“It seems like Silvia would really enjoy doing all that. She was certainly good at making wreaths.”
“I bet it will be fancy. She’s fancy. But don’t get me wrong. I like her. I’m kind of really impressed that Dad snagged her. I mean, she’s got a great bod. She’s young and peppy. She’s pretty and hip. And he’s just Dad. Is that mean?”
Yes, it was mean. But Tempest had also thought it. “He’s steady and kind, and maybe she’s finally realizing how much that’s worth.”
“She seems like a great mom. I really like her kids.” Jo wiped spit off Harrison’s mouth. “Do you think they like us? Leo seemed a little closed off. I bet people hit him up for money all the time. That would be so annoying. But if we’re family, do you think we’ll get in on that gravy train?” Jo giggled at her own candor. “I hope he gives good presents.”
Tempest resisted the urge to touch the sapphires on her ears.
“He had Hunter’s sweater cleaned and delivered.”
“How pretentious.”
“How polite.” Jo wrinkled her nose and checked the baby’s diaper. “Just gas.” She rubbed her nose against Harrison’s and put him back on her shoulder. “Zena is pretty. I mean if I had all the time and money in the world to get my hair and face and nails—” Her voice cut off when her phone rang. She picked it up and snorted, tilting the screen toward Tempest.
Silvia Steele.
“Do you think she felt us talking about her? Like ESP or something?” Jo answered and put the phone to her ear. “Hello. Great, thanks. And you? We had a great time. We are so excited for you and Dad. And Leo and Zena are really wonderful.” She bounced Harrison on her hip, her forehead crinkling as she listened for a long time. Then the confusion on her face turned to pure excitement.