When the Cameras Stop Rolling.... Connie Cox

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      You’re the only one who can hold you back, she heard, as if Chuck were sitting next to her.

      She smiled, hearing the wisdom in the words Chuck would have said to her.

      She thought about Mark. Thought about the flirting. Thought about the way she’d felt so alive as she’d teased and sparred. Thought about what could happen next.

      And tried to bury all her angst, all her worry and fear of being hurt again. Tried to be brave, as she said aloud, “Let’s do this.”

      A strong sense of approval passed through her, leaving her feeling warm inside.

      While the logical part of Mark regretted asking Eva to join him, his baser libido couldn’t help watching her backside swing as she made her way to her car.

      It was a little convertible. Black. Impractical with the frequent storms and the excessive heat of New Orleans, but it fit her.

      Was she as impractical as her car? At first glance, a man might think so. But the intelligence behind those heavily mascaraed eyelashes made him cautious about underestimating her.

      With the hard lessons his ex-wife had given him about the dangers of a beautiful woman with brains, anyone would think he’d turn and walk—no, run—in the opposite direction. Apparently, he was a slow learner.

      Still, who was she to offer parenting advice? She had no children. None listed in her bio, anyway.

      But she did have gorgeous child-bearing hips.

      He walked up to the driver’s side of his truck, opened the door and motioned Aaron out.

      “Let me drive, Uncle Mark. Just up to the pizza place.”

      Here came the hard part of parenting. The tough-love part. “No way. You blew that privilege out of the water.”

      “It wasn’t my fault.”

      That was the statement Aaron kept repeating over and over. Not his fault. And that was the attitude that kept Mark worried about his nephew. Being too immature to own his transgressions meant the boy was too immature to learn from his mistakes.

      Mark didn’t let the remark go unchecked. He’d tried that before and Aaron had taken the silent approach to mean his uncle had believed him.

      “That’s right, Aaron. Those other boys tackled you and poured beer down your throat and there was nothing you could do about it. And then they forced you to get into that car and drive twenty miles over the speed limit with police cars behind you flashing their lights for over a half mile before one finally pulled in front of you and made you pull over.”

      Mark gave Aaron his best sarcastic cynicism, one of the few tones of voice Aaron seemed to listen to. “So what part of that wasn’t your fault?”

      Instead of hanging his head in shame, as he had first done when the whole incident had happened, Aaron glared at his uncle. The fierce anger in his eyes gave Mark real worry.

      What was happening to that chubby-cheeked little boy his sister had given birth to seventeen years ago?

      Silently, Aaron turned to stare out the window, his jaw jutting, his forehead creased, fury in every line of his body.

      Mark knew all about being a teenager with a new stepfather in the house. The clashing of two male egos made for a lot of angst and anger.

      But Mark had taken all his pent-up energy to the football field and had left it there, thanks to a few great coaches who had taught their players as many life lessons as sports plays.

      Still, he’d said too many things he still regretted and it was now too late to apologize to his mother and his stepfather, the man who had done his best to make her happy.

      That’s why he’d volunteered to take Aaron into his home. To try to make amends for his own youth.

      Maybe he was looking back through self-forgiving lenses, but he didn’t remember being as cruel and as crude as Aaron had been to his mother. The boy showed no respect. And Mark’s meek, mild sister didn’t know how to command it.

      What would Eva do? She was a talk-show host. She’d probably try to talk reason to the boy.

      Mark had talked until his throat ached. If the right words existed to get through to Aaron, Mark certainly didn’t know them.

      Somehow he didn’t think Eva would put up with the poor behavior his sister accepted. There was something in the set of her jaw and the directness of her gaze.

      As they pulled into the parking lot, Aaron’s scowl morphed into one of anticipation. The boy couldn’t get enough food.

      Even though the pizza buffet offered all-you-can-eat servings, Mark felt like he should pay for two meals for Aaron.

      As a physician, Mark had seen a lot of adolescent growth spurts and Aaron’s ranked at the top of the charts.

      While Aaron was growing taller, he was growing wider at a faster rate. Football and independent workouts in the weight room were turning all his new-found weight into muscle. When his size caught up to his breadth, the boy would be an imposing young man. He had to get that raging temper of his under control before then.

      But Aaron’s mercurial mood had turned into all smiles when he piled out of the truck and headed toward the group of cheerleaders who were waiting outside the door of the pizza place for the boys to show up.

      He felt his own mood turn into anticipation once he spotted Eva opening her car door. Her skirt rode up to show off her long, athletic legs as she climbed from the low-slung car.

      He hurried over to give her a hand, giving him a chance to get an up-close look at the silky skin her skirt exposed.

      When he ran his hands up and down those thighs, he knew they would feel as smooth and firm as they looked. And her hands on him would feel—

      He’d thought he’d outgrown his teenage impulsiveness, but around Eva his libido was still at its pubescent peak.

      She took his outstretched palm, sending pulses straight to his primal brain center and setting off a chain reaction.

      He pulled her up a little too hard, a little too strong, knocking her off balance on those teetering heels.

      When she put her other hand on his chest to steady herself she set his heart beating so strongly she couldn’t help but feel it even through his shirt.

      Her nails were trim and unpolished. Medical-practice standards. He’d expected a fancy manicure like—

      But Eva wasn’t his ex, who had indulged in having her nails done at least once a week.

      He hadn’t spent this much time thinking about his ex since the divorce had been finalized. Why now?

      And why was he comparing Eva to her?

      Because he was trying to find a reason to steer clear of Eva. Judging Eva against another woman wasn’t fair to her. He wouldn’t want to be compared to another man. He owed it to СКАЧАТЬ