The Best Mistake of Her Life. Aimee Carson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ suggestion. “You following my career, Angel Face?”

      The nickname struck her hard, and emotion punted the protest from her lips. “Please,” she said, the light tone now a struggle to maintain. “Don’t call me that.” She’d hated his name for her as a teen, and had even more reason to despise the label today.

      “Well,” he said, an amused sparkle in those sinful eyes. “Angel Face fitted the placid, rule-obsessed girl you used to be.” And then his gaze flared with a fire that sparked through the air and lit an unwelcome blaze in her, too. He stepped closer, looking down at her with the knowledge of a man who knew all her secrets, his rumbling voice loaded with memory. “But I guess we both know at least one incident where the nickname doesn’t fit.”

      Fighting for calm, she sent him what she hoped was her legendary campaign-cool smile. “Angel Face didn’t suit me nearly as much as Devil did you.” It was time to set the ground rules of their new relationship. They were both adults, certainly they could move beyond the past to a more … sedate friendship.

      One could only hope.

      “So forget about coming on to me, Memphis,” she went on firmly, ignoring the disturbing sensation his proximity created. “I’m not that easily intimidated teen anymore. The years have taught me how to maintain a certain amount of grace and dignity, no matter the adversity.” A humiliating tabloid-dissected divorce had helped, as well.

      “Are you referring to me?” he said.

      “Yes,” she said. “You take pride in being as adverse as possible.”

      “A guy has to be known for something,” he said easily. “Is that why you’re here, to put your new skills to the test?”

      “It’s an unfortunate perk,” she said. “I’m here because I need your help.”

      The surprised scoff was sharp. “My help?” He stared at her for a moment, and then the hint of a teasing grin reappeared. “The circumstances must be dire for the mighty Kate Anderson to request assistance from little ol’ me.”

      The soft Southern twang he reverted to when irritated, or aroused, only made his already rough voice sexier. The small knot of anxiety in Kate’s stomach bloomed bigger, and she licked her lips. It was a risk pinning her hopes on the wildly unpredictable Memphis.

      But which was worse? Suffering through more of the humiliating public sympathy that, deep down, she knew she mostly didn’t deserve? Or enduring the taunting tone of the only man outside her marriage who knew why?

      “Why are you coming to me for a favor?” Memphis crossed his arms across a well-cut chest, and his biceps bulged beneath his T-shirt, momentarily throwing Kate’s concentration. “Is Armageddon upon us?” he said wryly. “Is the end of civilization at hand?”

      “It is according to the man holding the sign on the corner of Fifth and Main,” she said, striving for a nonchalant tone. “But on the off chance that doesn’t pan out, my ten-year high-school reunion is a month away. And there are several pre-reunion functions that I don’t want to attend alone.”

      Memphis tipped back his head and let out a genuine laugh. Yes, compared to the end of days her predicament did seem rather trite. But right now the doomsday feeling was real.

      “The solution seems simple to me,” he said. “Just don’t go.”

      “I have to attend,” she said. “I’m in charge. I’ve been working on this reunion for the past year.” As chairwoman of the event she’d spent months coping with her isolation and loneliness by stressing over every detail. She had no choice. “Skipping out isn’t an option.”

      “I guess it never occurred to you to go alone,” he said, and his voice lowered a notch. “Or is Kate Anderson still unable to show her face in public without an adoring sap on her arm?”

      The critique stung. “I don’t need adoration.”

      “You certainly were on the receiving end of plenty in high school.”

      “I just want company.” She inhaled a breath, struggling for calm. “Who I go with doesn’t matter.”

      “Just a hint, Angel Face.” Amused, he tipped his head, as if sharing a secret. “That’s no way to make a guy feel special.”

      “You aren’t special,” she said lightly. “You’re trouble.”

      His brow bunched together with exaggerated concern. “Clearly you need to work on your dating techniques,” he said. “I prefer to be wooed.”

      “Wooed?” she said, struggling to maintain her composure. “This won’t be a date. You’d simply be attending as my friend.”

      His eyebrow climbed meaningfully. “Except, I’m not your friend.”

      “You are my brother’s friend and I’m asking for a favor.”

      Two heartbeats passed before he said, “I guarantee you, Kate.” His eyes grew dark with an emotion that left her spinning. “You don’t want my help.”

      She steeled herself against his sensually teasing tone. By the look on his face it was clear he showed no signs of relenting, and her anxiety edged higher. With Memphis accompanying her, no one would dare lecture her about moving on from being the discarded wife. “I’m asking nicely, Memphis.” She tried not to sound as desperate as she felt, digging deep for the Anderson smile that she’d perfected from an early age. “I just need a little of your time,” she said, laying a hand on his arm.

      The muscles beneath her fingers bunched, and the last trace of teasing amusement in his eyes died. A myriad of expressions flitted across his face, none of them obvious. But when he spoke, his voice was resigned.

      “Sorry. You’ll have to find another guy to parade around town,” he said, and then he turned and headed for the crew gathered around a monitor, watching a replay of his spectacular fall.

      Kate followed him. “There isn’t anyone else.”

      He kept his eyes forward. “Where are all your groupies from that expensive private high school you attended?”

      “I didn’t have groupies.”

      “Okay, I stand corrected,” he said, and then he glanced down at Kate. Unfortunately those long legs of his kept right on going, forcing her high-heeled sandals to double as track shoes. “Perhaps flock of admirers is a better phrase?” he went on.

      “I didn’t have those, either.”

      He let out an amused laugh. “That’s not how I remember it. What I remember is a straitlaced, popular princess who attended the high school with the highest per-capita-income area code in the state, Biscayne Bay Preparatory Academy.” He stopped and stepped close, and Kate’s discomfort stepped up a notch, too. “A girl who was too good to give the time of day to a kid from lowly County High on the seedier side of town.”

      Heat crept up Kate’s face. As a teen, there had been a whole host of reasons why Kate had treated her brother’s best friend with a nonchalant reserve. Money had never entered her extensive list. “Your memory is jaded, Memphis.”

      He cocked his head, СКАЧАТЬ