Her Kind of Trouble
Sarah Mayberry
It takes one to know one The moment Vivian Walker spies Seth Anderson she knows they're a match made in hedonistic pleasure. And everything that happens between them proves her right. Even better, they both agree their one night together is all they'll share.Now, years later, Seth remains one of Vivian's favorite memories. Surely the sizzling chemistry has faded, though, right? Apparently not. Because when she sees him again he's still sinfully attractive. More than that, she actually likes the man he is. When Seth suddenly becomes a full-time dad to a newborn, Vivian falls hard. Despite the changes, however, she knows Seth will never settle down. And he will definitely never commit to one woman. So she needs to strengthen her defenses before she gets into real trouble!
It takes one to know one
The moment Vivian Walker spies Seth Anderson she knows they’re a match made in hedonistic pleasure. And they both agree their one night together is all about fun, not forever.
Now, years later, Seth remains a favorite memory. Surely the sizzling chemistry has faded, though, right? Apparently not. Because he’s still sinfully attractive, and she likes the man he is. When he suddenly becomes a full-time dad to his newborn daughter, Vivian falls hard. Yet despite the responsibilities, he’s not a good bet for commitment. And she needs to guard her heart before she gets into trouble!
She’d been courting trouble!
As reluctant as she was to acknowledge it, Vivian had been dancing with the devil tonight. God help her.
She’d been toying with herself, with Seth, with the situation. Enjoying the heat of their chemistry and the spark of their banter and the sheer electric thrill of the potential that always seemed to arc between them.
Wondering what would happen if they got naked again, skin to skin, and if the payoff would be worth the risk.
And Seth had called her bluff. He’d read her signals, interpreted them to suit his own agenda—which, let’s face it, was pretty basic and predictably male and not that different from her own—and gone for it.
She could still feel the echoes of her panic, it had been that strong, that instinctive.
That revealing.
She lifted her head and stared unseeingly out the windshield. It was time to be honest with herself.
She still had a thing for Seth.
Dear Reader,
I hope you can tell I had a lot of fun writing this book. The idea for Vivian and Seth’s story came to me a couple of years ago and a part of me has been anticipating writing about them ever since.
For me, Viv and Seth are the classic case of right person, wrong time. I loved playing with their instinctive recognition of each other, as well as their fiery passionate physical connection. They’re both a bit naughty and irreverent, too, with life ambitions that sit slightly outside the norm. Throw a baby into the mix, and you’ve got a pretty crazy situation for two very independent people to try to wrangle.
Neither of these two are perfect, but they have good hearts and good intentions, and I really enjoyed helping them find their happily ever after. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did! I love to hear from readers, so stop by my website, www.sarahmayberry.com (http://www.sarahmayberry.com), to drop me a line if you feel the urge. And, if you’d like, add your name to my new-release-newsletter mailing list.
Happy reading,
Sarah Mayberry
Her Kind of Trouble
Sarah Mayberry
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SARAH MAYBERRY lives by the sea in her hometown of Melbourne, Australia, with her husband and a small black furry Cavoodle called Max. She loves to write, cook, sleep, read and shop for shoes. Not necessarily in that order. She’s about to start a new fitness regimen in the hope of becoming a little less like the Tin Man before Dorothy got busy with the oil can on his rusty joints.
Every book is a journey of discovery, frustration, elation, delusion and determination. I couldn’t get through it without Chris, Max and Wanda.
A big thanks to my lovely writing buddies Marie, Schwartzeputzer, Joan, Mel and the fabulous Melbourne Mob. It’s so nice to know I’m not alone in the madness.
Contents
Chapter One (#u402c81c7-c696-509f-b633-fc5ed6f1d32c)
Chapter Two (#u07c808b5-eb9b-586c-a94f-f08c3cab4bb1)
Chapter Three (#u6b2218af-13fb-5d98-9705-396fe6aebcb1)
Chapter Four (#u89d45a1e-2fc4-5b33-8fee-17d23d56c942)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
March 2004
“WELL. WHAT DO you think? Do I still look like an overstuffed silk sausage?”
Vivian Walker winced as her sister spun to face her, the taffeta of her wedding dress rustling. She would never live down the scathing commentary she’d given the day she’d gone dress shopping with her sister. Next time someone asked for her opinion, she needed to engage her edit function first.
“It looks gorgeous,” she said, because it was true and because the big day was tomorrow and there was no way she was critiquing the gown her sister had chosen.
Jodie smoothed a hand over her hip. She’d been dieting like crazy and the classic fit-and-flare dress clung to her curvy figure perfectly, with not a hint of overstuffing. The lace overlay was delicate, the strapless sweetheart neckline flattering, the dove-grey silk belt the perfect accent for her slender waist. She really did look beautiful.
“You don’t think I should have gone with something more modern?” Jodie asked, flicking her long, dark red hair over her shoulders.
“We can dash down to the mall now, see what the rental place has,” Vivian suggested, poker-faced.
“Ha, ha, smarty-pants. That was your cue to tell me that this is the perfect dress, that there isn’t a more perfect dress anywhere in the world, and that I look like a regal, sex-goddess-princess in it, et cetera, et cetera.”
The guilt that had been hovering since her sister unzipped the dress’s garment bag bit hard. Vivian scratched her nose to hide her reaction from her sister.
Was there anything worse in all the world than letting down someone you loved? She’d yet to find it, if there was.
“You look amazing, Jodie. Really, really stunning,” she said, meeting her sister’s eyes.
It wasn’t a lie, not by a long shot, but they both knew that if things had gone according to plan, Jodie would be wearing a dress Vivian had designed. A one-of-a-kind creation that—in theory—would have been the culmination of all the hard work Vivian had put in over the past three years studying clothing design at the Melbourne Fashion Institute.
If only she hadn’t made that stupid, impulsive offer when they’d gone shopping six months ago. If only she’d paused for a second to consider what she’d be taking on before she asked her sister to let her design something. But she’d been so disgusted by the safe, homogenized, boring dresses, and so full of herself after winning praise at a recent exhibition of student work at the institute, the offer—bold, brash, confident—had simply popped out of her mouth.
Jodie’s eyes had lit up on the spot, and she’d done a happy dance around the changing room. “Viv, that would be so fantastic. And I know that whatever you come up with will be my dream dress, because you are so amazingly talented.”
Panic had set in about thirty seconds later. This was her sister’s wedding day. Whatever Vivian came up with needed to be off-the-planet extraordinary. It needed to be the best, most creative, most sublime thing she’d ever designed.
Was it any wonder she’d choked every time she sat down with her sketch pad to try to rough out ideas in the following weeks and months? Was it any wonder she’d made no less than twenty starts on twenty wildly different designs before throwing each and every one of them out? And was it any wonder her sister had finally let her off the hook after three months of unreturned phone calls and excuses, assuring Vivian that she was more than happy to buy a dress off the rack if designing one was proving too difficult?
That Jodie had wound up selecting one of the dresses Vivian had so vehemently critiqued and rejected on their shopping expedition was the icing on the cake of her guilt and discomfort. “What do you think of the veil? I’m still on the fence about whether to wear it over my face, or to do something with it in my hair, or maybe not wear it at all.” Jodie picked up a lace-edged confection of white froth. “I tried all three options when we did the practice run on my hair and makeup, but I still can’t decide.”
Vivian pushed her feelings aside and stood. “Let’s have a bit of a play, see what we can come up with.”
She fiddled with the veil, trying different ways of pinning and draping it before slipping out to her car to retrieve her workbox. Big, black and heavy, it was actually a portable tool chest that she’d modified for her own purposes, the compartments filled with all manner of trims, haberdashery and sewing supplies she’d collected over the years. She rummaged through the sections until she found what she was looking for—delicate grey feathers that had been dusted with silver and some paste diamond jewelry she’d picked up at a yard sale. She tried a few different options before hitting on the right combination of antique brooch and feathers, pinning the veil so that it fell in delicate, sensuous folds down her sister’s back.
“Oh, wow.” Jodie inspected herself in the mirror. “Viv, I love it. Thank you,” she said, flinging her arms around Vivian.
Vivian hugged her sister, even though she knew she didn’t deserve her gratitude. “If you like, I could come up with something similar for your belt, embellish it a little. I could do it tonight, have it ready for you tomorrow morning.”
Jodie’s smile faltered and Vivian knew she was thinking about the dress-that-never-was, along with all the other things Vivian had screwed up over the years.
“We’ve got the dinner tonight. I don’t want you to feel pushed for time,” her sister said diplomatically.
“I won’t be. It’ll take me an hour, two tops. I really want to do this, Jodie.” She left the rest of her plea unspoken. They both knew that a few embellishments on a belt and veil didn’t come even close to compensating for how badly Vivian had let Jodie down, but it was something.
“Okay. Sure. Why not?” Jodie said, and it killed Vivian that she could hear her sister talking herself into trusting her again.
“I’ll draw up some sketches before dinner and run them past you.”
“You don’t need to do that. You have wonderful taste. Whatever you do, I’m sure I’ll love it.”
The bedroom door opened then and their mother and the other two bridesmaids barged in, laden with champagne and glasses, all of them talking at once.
“God, Jodie, you look gorgeous! Like a fairy-tale princess,” one of them said.
Vivian smiled to herself as she cleared her things out of the way. The princess reference was sure to meet with her sister’s approval.
She stayed for one toast, but the belt was playing on her mind—she refused to let her sister down again—so she made her excuses and retreated to her childhood bedroom to sketch some ideas.
Their mother had converted Jodie’s room into a study the moment she moved out, but she’d kept Vivian’s as it was when she’d struck out on her own a year later, “just in case” Vivian needed it. The message being that while sensible, down-to-earth Jodie couldn’t possibly fail to succeed in the adult world of rent and utility bills, flighty, unreliable Vivian was a much shakier proposition
The galling thing was her mother had been right. Vivian had had to move home twice—once when she’d lost her job working in retail fashion, the second when she’d had a falling-out with her housemates. Worse, things were looking shaky at the apartment she shared with two other students at the moment, too.
Vivian sighed. It would totally suck to crawl home a third time.
Sitting on her bed, she arranged the remaining feathers off to one side, placing a selection of antique brooches next to them. She had another rummage through her workbox and unearthed a packet of pewter-grey and white sequins, along with some seed pearls.
Perfect.
Taking up her pad and pencil, she started to sketch. She had roughed out a design and arranged the component pieces on the belt when someone rapped on her door. She looked up, only registering how long it had been since she moved when her neck objected.
Her mother entered, dressed in a bronze silk pants suit, her faded red hair sprayed into a stiff helmet, gold jewelry gleaming at her ears, throat and wrists.
“Vivian. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. We leave for the restaurant in twenty minutes.” Her expression became exasperated when she saw that Vivian was still in her jeans. “You’re not wearing that, are you? This is the first time we’ll be meeting some of Jason’s extended family.”
Vivian resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her idea of fashion and her mother’s had diverged a long time ago, but even she knew jeans were not acceptable for the private dining room of a swanky restaurant.
“I’ll be ready,” she said. “And I brought a dress.”
Her mother’s gaze dropped to the bed. “That’s not Jodie’s belt, is it? Does she know you have it?” Her mother started forward, clearly determined to rescue it from Vivian’s clutches.
Vivian rested a protective hand over the arrangement she’d spent hours perfecting.
“Jodie gave it to me. I’m finessing it.”
Her mother pursed her mouth. “I hope this isn’t going to be like the dress. The wedding is tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Mum, I’m well aware of that.”
“There’s no need to take that tone. I’m thinking of your sister. This isn’t the time for you to go off on one of your whims.”
“I’ll finish tonight.” Vivian ground out the words.
It was one thing to admit to yourself you were a screwup, but it was another thing entirely to have it pointed out by your nearest and dearest. Repeatedly. Ad nauseam.
“I’ll leave you to change, then.” Her mother gave the belt one last mistrustful glance before leaving.
Viv growled, then carefully unfolded her legs so as not to disturb the sequins and pearls. She didn’t have time for a shower, so she concentrated on fixing her makeup before shedding her clothes and pulling on her dress. One of her own designs, it was made from an inky-blue wool crepe and had a loose blouson top with a peekaboo central split and a fitted pencil skirt. She’d been growing her strawberry-blond hair out of a short crop for the wedding, and she pinned it up before spritzing on perfume and racing downstairs.
“Only five minutes late.” Her father made a show of checking his watch. “Got to be a new record.”
Vivian wrinkled her nose at him. “But worth every second,” she said, twirling for him.
He whistled appreciatively.
Her mother made a clucking noise. “You’re a born flirt, Vivian. Try not to give anyone a heart attack tonight, okay?” She tried to close the peekaboo slit that revealed a hint of Vivian’s décolletage.
“Relax, Mum. I know CPR.”
Jodie laughed. “Not much to say to that, is there?”
They trooped out to the car, her and Jodie piling into the backseat.
“So is what’s-his-name going to be there tonight?” Vivian asked as the car pulled into the street.
“I may need a little more detail than that,” Jodie said dryly.
“Jason’s brother. What’s-his-name.” The mysterious best man who hadn’t made it to either the engagement party or the wedding rehearsal because he’d been “touring with his band.”
“Seth. You might want to make a note of his name, since he’s going to be your brother-in-law. Sort of. Family by association anyway.”
“Goodie. I always wanted a brother.” Mostly when one of her boyfriends had turned out to be a jerk-wad.
“Yeah...Seth isn’t really brother material.”
Vivian gave Jodie a look. “What does that mean?”
“I think I’ll let you work it out for yourself.”
It was tempting to badger her, but Jodie was clearly bent on being mysterious so Vivian let the subject drop and asked about the itinerary for the honeymoon.
Their father was cursing under his breath by the time they entered the restaurant, ticked off after having to park on a side street because the restaurant’s lot was full. Their mother murmured soothing words to him as they made their way to the private dining room.
Approximately half the guests had already arrived and her parents began to circulate, apologizing for being late, while Jodie made a beeline for a smiling Jason. Vivian lingered in the doorway to appreciate the lavish decor—over-the-top red velvet curtains with gold tassels, a long dining table surrounded by button-backed chairs in black velvet, lots of glittering candles and bevel-cut mirrors. Fancy.
Not really her cup of tea, but she could appreciate that a wedding called for a bit of pomp, and her parents would have the opportunity to do this only once, since it would be a cold day in hell when she agreed to marry someone. She might be barely twenty-three, but she knew that much about the life she wanted to carve out for herself. There would be no cozy domestic arrangements in the suburbs in her future. No matching rings and big white dress and public vows. There would definitely be no babies.
She was going to be a clothing designer. She was going to launch her own line and build it into a force to be reckoned with. One day, she would send a collection down the runway at Paris fashion week, and women would covet clothes bearing her brand.
One day.
The thought was still lingering in her mind when the huddle of people gathered at the far end of the table opened up and she caught sight of the tall, dark-haired man in their midst.
Hello, sailor.
His hair was raven-black, brushed back from his widow’s peak in a careless, windswept style reminiscent of an old-school, bad-boy movie star. Unlike everyone else, he’d eschewed a suit and tie and instead wore an open-necked black shirt and leather jacket with a pair of tuxedo pants and scuffed biker boots. She wanted to smirk at how try-hard the ensemble was—he might as well have the words wannabe rock star tattooed across his forehead—but was forced to admit that he more than carried off the look.
He was, in a word, sexy. And boy, did he know it. The knowledge was reflected in the way he held himself, the way he studied the people around him and in the small, knowing curve to his lips. He thought he was too cool for school and the best thing since sliced bread all rolled into one, with a helping of God’s gift to women thrown in for good measure.
So, this was Jason’s mysterious, never-around brother, Seth Anderson.
Interesting.
A waiter glided by bearing a tray of champagne flutes and she plucked one for herself before he could disappear. Sipping at the bubbles, she went to greet her aunt and uncle, watching Seth out of the corner of her eye every step of the way.
He was easily the hottest guy in the room. She guessed he was about her age, maybe slightly older. She tried to remember what else Jodie had told her about him, but apart from the fact that he was lead singer in a band called Skunk Punk, Vivian came up blank. Since she’d never heard of his band—and who could forget that name?—she figured that his music career wasn’t much to write home about, despite all the time he apparently spent touring.
But, hey, what did she know? Maybe he was about to break out and be heralded as the next Michael Hutchence.
He glanced up, scanning the room until he arrived at her. For a breathless moment their gazes locked, and a ripple of something forbidden and hot and reckless licked through her. His eyes were espresso-brown, and the glint in them was downright wicked.
He cocked an eyebrow, his mouth quirking into a speculative, assessing smile as his gaze traveled down her body and up again. Not to be outdone, she raised an eyebrow at him and gave him the same treatment, deliberately lingering on his crotch, just so he knew who he was dealing with.
He raised his glass in her direction, an unspoken acknowledgement that she’d trumped him. Or so she chose to think.
She turned her shoulder on him as she joined her aunt and uncle, exchanging kisses and greetings, doing her damnedest to appear as though she had better things to do than engage in eye-foreplay with him. Even though she was burningly aware of him.
Definitely interesting. Maybe this wedding wasn’t going to be all pomp and circumstance, after all.
* * *
SETH TOOK A pull from his beer, not taking his eyes off the redhead who had just walked into the room. She was pretending that she wasn’t aware of him, but he knew she was. He’d known it the moment their eyes locked. She was trouble, with a capital T, and he’d always had a thing for trouble.
He let his gaze slide down her body again. She had a great ass, something that was more than evident thanks to the fits-like-a-glove dress, and unless he missed his guess, she was rocking a C cup upstairs.
Very nice.
He bet she went off in bed—not because she was a redhead, but because of the suggestive curve to her lips. No fake orgasms and holding back for Red. She’d go all the way and then some.
Someone nudged him and he turned to find his brother scowling at him.
“No.” Jason sliced a hand through the air.
“What?” Seth put on his best innocent face.
“That’s Jodie’s little sister, Vivian. She is absolutely out of bounds.”
Vivian. The name suited her. A bit different and naughty.
“She doesn’t look out of bounds.” Seth gave her another once-over. Her high heels were serious business, the stilettos made from shiny silver metal.
Hot.
Jason moved to block his line of vision. “Think of her as a nun.”
“Never gonna happen.”
“Then think of my hand around your throat, squeezing slowly until your ever-loving eyes pop out of your head.”
Seth laughed. “Wow, you are really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“These people are about to become my family. Apologizing for my humpy-dog brother is not high on my list of things to do.”
Seth sighed heavily and turned his back on the siren across the room. “Fine. She’s off-limits.”
Jason stared as though he was trying to work out if Seth was sincere. Seth rolled his eyes and drank the last of his beer. When had his brother turned into such a freakin’ stiff?
“I so need another one of these.” He dumped the empty on the table and, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, headed for the waiter.
There were four years between him and Jason, but right now it felt like four decades. In the space of a couple of years, his brother had gone from being a fun guy who loved to party and hang out to a stay-at-home, cardigan-wearing family-man-in-training. He’d even bought a set of golf clubs last month, for Pete’s sake.
Seth blamed Jodie. Not that she was inherently evil, but she had clearly done something to his brother’s brain, changed its fundamental chemistry so that Jason was now a different man. And he was about to become a husband.
Seth shuddered. Was there a worse word in the English language? Herpes, perhaps. Maybe fungus. But husband had to be up there.
He snagged a beer and surveyed the room. His parents were schmoozing with Jodie’s parents, all of them looking as pleased as punch that they would spend the next thirty-odd years doing exactly the same thing at extended family gatherings. His grandmother was seated, her cane dangling from the table by its crook. But his gaze kept sliding to Vivian.
To her ass, if he was being strictly accurate.
Her skirt was tight with no V.P.L. He bet she wasn’t wearing underwear. She might be wearing a thong, of course, but he preferred his version.
He glanced to where his brother was talking with Jodie and some of her cousins. Jason was preoccupied, his head tilted toward Jodie as he listened to something she was saying.
So attentive. So domesticated.
Since he was otherwise occupied...
Seth headed across the room, only stopping when he was a few feet away from Vivian in her sexy blue dress. She made him wait a full ten seconds before pretending she’d just noticed him.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you,” she said, her eyes sending him a very different message.
A shame he wasn’t allowed to play with her properly. She’d give him a good run for his money.
“Seth,” he said, offering her his hand. “And you’re Vivian. We’re about to become family, they tell me.”
She considered his hand for a beat before sliding hers into it. Her skin was soft and warm, her nails surprisingly short and businesslike.
“Jodie warned me you aren’t brother material.”
She was more of a strawberry-blonde than a true redhead, he decided. Her eyes were an intriguing blue-green, her skin creamy smooth.
He bet she tasted good.
“Did she? I wonder why?”
“You think maybe it has something to do with the whole Marlon Brando On the Waterfront thing you’ve got going on?”
“Damn. And here I was, aiming for James Dean in Giant.”
“You’ll need a cowboy hat to pull that one off.”
“A cowboy hat, huh? I’ll add it to my shopping list. So, Vivian, what do you do when you’re not being the sexiest woman in the room?”
She huffed out a little laugh. “Wow, you don’t mess around, do you?”
“Just calling it like I see it.”
She took a sip from her champagne flute, considering him over the rim. “So, how do you see this working? We slip out between the main and dessert and I do you in the alley? Or were you thinking the bathroom?”
He choked on his beer, going from semihard to hard in no seconds flat. Then she arched her eyebrows and he knew she was yanking his chain.
“Funny.”
“Just calling it like I see it.” She lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug.
The movement caused the slit in her bodice to flare momentarily, offering him a heart-stopping view of cleavage. He was about to respond when he felt the heavy pressure of someone staring at him. He glanced around and met his brother’s dark glare.
Okay. Time to wind up this little chin-wag before his brother burst an artery.
“Vivian, it was nice meeting you. I look forward to seeing you at the altar tomorrow,” he said, offering her a mocking half bow.
“Tomorrow’s a whole other day. And you know what they say about weddings.” She winked then, the sexiest move he’d ever witnessed in the flesh.
Since he knew he couldn’t top that, he offered one last smile and turned away. Jason was angling toward him, and Seth headed in the opposite direction and sat beside his grandmother. As he’d guessed, Jason stopped short, unwilling to give a lecture about keeping his pants zipped in front of an octogenarian.
Wimp.
“Seth, sweetheart. Good to see you. Tell me about all the trouble you’ve been causing,” his grandmother said, patting his hand.
“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but I’ve been busy working. No trouble here.”
She laughed heartily, tickled, and he set himself to entertaining her. And all the while he puzzled over Vivian’s parting words. What, exactly, did people say about weddings? And did it mean he was in with a chance tomorrow or not?
* * *
VIVIAN STAYED UP half the night hand-stitching the sequins, seed pearls and feathers onto the belt. She was bleary-eyed when she finished, but the belt was gorgeous and she was certain that Jodie would love it.
It wasn’t a dress, but it was something.
She set her alarm before burrowing into the pillow and willing herself to sleep on the narrow bed. For some reason, her conversation with Seth slipped into her mind as she drifted off. Man, he was cocky. So confident he was almost offensive.
Almost. If he actually delivered on the promises he made with that body and those eyes... Well, it would be a whole lot of fun.
She fell asleep with a smile on her face, slept through her alarm and then had to shower in a panic before joining her sister downstairs to have her hair and makeup done with the other bridesmaids.
“Vivian,” her mother said reproachfully as Vivian slipped into the lone empty seat at the kitchen table.
Vivian widened her eyes. It wasn’t as though the makeup artist or hairdresser had eight arms and was able to work on more than one person at a time. She would have been sitting around twiddling her thumbs if she’d been on time.
The next hour flew by in a waft of hairspray and a dusting of powder. Then it was time to get dressed. She and the other bridesmaids shimmied into their pale green sheaths before helping Jodie dress. Then, holding her breath, Vivian handed over the belt.
“Oh, Viv.” Jodie eyes popped as she reached for it reverently. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Good. I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it.”
Vivian was pretty sure she’d remember the look on her sister’s face for the rest of her life.
There were photographs to take next, then the drive to the church. In the vestibule Vivian and the other bridesmaids helped arrange the small train on Jodie’s dress, then Vivian tweaked the veil one last time. The doors to the church proper opened, the organ chimed the opening chords to “Here Comes the Bride,” and Vivian started down the aisle, her suddenly sweaty hands clutched around her bouquet.
She might not want this for herself, but it hit her that this was a big deal. Jodie was getting married. She was about to become someone else. Mrs. Anderson. She was about to lay the foundation stone for starting her own family.
Vivian blinked rapidly, worried she would ruin her makeup. Then her gaze found the tall figure of Seth standing at the head of the aisle, and she saw the smirk on his lips, as though he fully expected her to turn into a slobbering sentimental wreck any second. She sucked back her tears and lifted her chin. She loved her sister, but she had her dignity to consider.
The ceremony passed in a blur, the only stand-out moments in her memory being when Jason and Jodie exchanged rings, and the time when she got caught staring at Seth’s profile and had to let her gaze drift as though she’d been examining the stained glass window over his shoulder and not wondering what kind of a kisser he was. She wasn’t entirely sure he bought it, but she’d tried.
There were more photos—endless photos—after the ceremony, then they piled into the cars and drove to the Fairfield Boathouse for the reception. The food came quickly, which was just as well as Vivian was starving, having somehow forgotten to eat breakfast and lunch in all the rush. The champagne flowed freely, and before she knew it they were at the speeches part of the evening. Her father spoke well and made everyone cry, then Jason’s mother took the floor and made them laugh. Seth told droll stories and earned his brother some raised-eyebrow looks from her sister. Then it was Vivian’s turn to talk about the happy couple.
She’d never been crazy about public speaking, so she chugged down her glass of champagne before taking the mike. She’d written out her speech, and she pretty much stuck to the script as she shared how happy she was for Jason and Jodie, and how she thought they made a great couple and couldn’t wait for little Johnny and Jan and Jill to come along. Everyone seemed to think that was funny—phew—so she finished on a high note.
With the official stuff out of the way, the music started. Vivian knocked back more champagne while watching her relatives make idiots of themselves on the dance floor, then went in search of the ladies’.
Afterward, she couldn’t quite face returning to the rowdy din. Not just yet. She slipped out the front entrance onto the covered balcony that circled the Victorian building. The river was dark as night, but fairy lights circled the gum trees nearest the boathouse and the world seemed mysterious and full of promise.
The scent of smoke drifted to her and she glanced to her left. Someone stood in the shadows of the balcony, the tip of his cigarette glowing.
She smiled, because she knew exactly who it was. Full of champagne and mischief, she went to talk to Seth.
* * *
WHATEVER ELSE A person thought about Vivian—and Seth had had a few very detailed, very specific thoughts regarding her in the twenty-four hours since they’d met—it was impossible to ignore the fact that she knew how to move. There was a swing to her hips, a strut to her walk that issued a challenge.
Look at me. Take me on.
Watching her walk toward him, half her face in shadow, he could only admire the way she worked it.
“Ms. Walker. Taking a break from the festivities?”
“Avoiding the ‘Chicken Dance.’”
He winced. “Really?”
“Yep. There will be some ‘Greased Lightning’ and the ‘Bus Stop’ before the night’s over, too.”
He swore under his breath and took another drag on his cigarette.
“You got another one of those?”
“Didn’t realize you smoked.”
“Only when I’m drunk.”
He gave her an assessing look. She wasn’t swaying on her feet or glassy-eyed, but her cheeks were a little flushed. She waved a hand dismissively.
“Relax. I’m not there yet,” she said.
“Hey, whatever gets you through the night.”
God knows, she’d get no judgment from him. He’d been guzzling champagne since they’d arrived at the boathouse, trying to anesthetize himself against the knowledge that his brother’s life was officially over.
He offered her a cigarette and lit it, breathing in her perfume. Spice and musk. Nice.
“So I hear you’re a fashion designer?” he said as she blew a stream of smoke into the darkness.
“Been asking about me, James?”
It took him a moment to remember their James Dean/Marlon Brando conversation from last night.
“My mother mentioned it. She seemed to think we might have a lot in common.”
Her eyebrows shot skyward and she looked as horrified by the notion that his mother had matchmaking on her mind as he had been.
“Yeah, I know. I laughed so hard I think I broke my funny bone,” he said.
“What is it with people always trying to pair everyone off in neat little couples? News flash—not everyone in the world wants to file two by two onto Noah’s Ark and live like the Brady Bunch for the rest of their lives. There’s a hell of a lot more to life than paying taxes and making babies.”
“Man, don’t get me started,” he said, thinking of the grief his father gave him every few months about giving up the band to do something “realistic” with his life. No matter how many times he explained that music was his life, it never seemed to get through.
“No offense, but I nearly choked on my own tongue when Jodie told me Jason had asked her to marry him. I mean, she’s only twenty-six. That is young to be getting married these days.”
“You think I didn’t freak when Jason told me he’d popped the question? Your sister is nice and everything, but come on.”
She held her hands in the air. “Hey, preaching to the converted here.”
He reached for the bottle of champagne he’d smuggled out with him and took a swig before passing it to her. He watched her pale throat as she tilted her head back and drank deeply.
“I’ve got to ask this, because it’s been bugging me. What is it, exactly, that people say about weddings?” he asked.
She handed him the bottle. “I don’t know. Why?”
He shook his head, confused. “You’re the one who said it.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah, last night. You said tomorrow is another day and you know what people say about weddings.”
She laughed, the sound loud and delighted. “That’s freakin’ hilarious.”
He watched her, unable to stop himself from smiling even though he had no idea what was so funny. “You want to let me in on the secret?”
“Sure. I have no idea what people say about weddings. I was trying to be mysterious. You were doing your whole brooding thing, and I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t a pushover.” She laughed again and this time he joined in.
“Well, mission accomplished. Congratulations.”
“Why, thank you, James.” She grabbed the bottle and took another swallow.
He took advantage of the opportunity to check her out again. The other bridesmaids looked okay in their dresses, but Vivian looked amazing. He especially liked the split in the side of the skirt that had tantalized him with glimpses of her thigh all day.
“I bet the other bridesmaids were pissed when they heard you’d be maid of honor,” he said admiringly.
“You don’t need to butter me up, James.”
“Don’t I?”
“Nope.” Her gaze held his, and he was pretty damn sure that he wasn’t imagining the invitation in hers.
Well, happy birthday, Mr. President.
“In that case, maybe it’s time for me to bring out the big guns.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out the joint he’d rolled earlier.
“I see you’ve really committed to the whole rock-and-roll lifestyle.”
“You got a problem with that?”
She gave him a slow, steady head-to-toe appraisal. “Not in the least.”
He closed his eyes for a brief moment of thanks. Sometimes, out of nowhere, the universe delivered a perfect moment. He was going to grab this one with both hands and run with it.
* * *
VIVIAN WASN’T SURE if the limo was her idea or Seth’s. It was all a bit hazy in her mind after that first kiss on the balcony. One minute they’d been talking, then she’d been pressed up against the building with Seth’s body against hers and his tongue in her mouth.
And holy hell, could the man kiss.
He’d stormed her mouth and her body as though he owned her, and she’d been wet and desperate for him within seconds. The feel of him, hard and demanding against her belly, had her thinking of getting naked and horizontal pronto. Then he’d broken their kiss, taken her hand and led her to the stairs.
Now, he slipped the driver some money to take a walk. She shivered with anticipation as Seth opened the door and waved her inside.
“Madam.”
One word, but so loaded with promise she had to squeeze her thighs together to contain her excitement. She crawled onto the backseat, kneeling as he got in and closed the door.
“You’ll have to unzip me.” She offered him her back. It didn’t take three years of design school to know that precious little action would happen while she wore a figure-hugging, floor-length sheath.
“Totally on it,” Seth said, his hands on her zipper.
She felt the fabric loosen, and she wriggled until she’d pulled it off and draped it over the driver’s seat.
“Oh, man.” His gaze was avid as he stared at her cream-colored balconette bra and matching panties.
She loved the slightly dazed look in his eyes.
“Brace yourself, I’m climbing on board,” she said, slipping a leg over his body and straddling him.
“Permission to board granted. And anything else that strikes your fancy,” he said. “And speaking of fancy...”
She bit back a moan as his hands slid onto her satin-covered ass, curving his hands to the shape of her body as he pulled her close. They kissed, his hands massaging as she ground against his erection. He smoothed one hand up to the clasp of her bra, and seconds later she felt it slacken around her rib cage.
“You’ve done that before,” she murmured as she slipped the straps down her arms.
“I was a Cub Scout.” He swore under his breath as her bra fell from her breasts. “Vivian, seriously. Could you be any freakin’ hotter?”
She didn’t get a chance to respond because he leaned forward and pulled one of her nipples into his mouth and she was lost.
Utterly gone.
Never had a man’s mouth on her breasts felt so good. Hot and wet, his teeth and tongue teasing her. She gripped handfuls of his hair and held him in place, riding the waves of desire sweeping through her. Then he slid a hand onto her belly and beneath her panties and took her to a whole new level.
The feel of his clever fingers between her thighs was crazy-making, the pressure both too much and not enough. She started to pant, and when he slid a finger inside her she gave a low, guttural moan.
“These have to go,” he said, and she heard a rip as he tore her panties off.
A part of her wanted to laugh at how mad and desperate it all was—the cramped quarters, him tearing her clothes off, their harsh breathing. But then he found her with his thumb at the exact moment that he bit her nipple and she was too busy coming, her head dropping forward as she clutched at his shoulders, needing an anchor to keep her earthbound.
Moments later she opened her eyes to find him watching her with a huge grin on his face.
“Like a handheld flare,” he said.
“Sorry?”
He reached for the buckle on his trousers. “I’ll explain later.”
She stared as he slipped himself free from his pants. Wow. This was going to be good.
“Want to do the honors?” He held up a condom.
She smiled, relieved that they weren’t going to have to have that battle. “Don’t mind if I do.”
She pulled the latex from the foil, slipped it over the head of his very hard erection and smoothed it on. The moment she rolled it home, she took him in hand and guided him to her entrance. Holding his eye, she slid onto him in one slippery, wet rush.
His breath sighed out on a wordless exclamation, and when she started to move, his hands tightened on her hips. He felt so good inside her, so thick. Desire tightened inside her again, stoked higher by every stroke of his body. He drew her closer, tonguing her nipples. She tilted her hips and ground herself against him, one hand on his shoulder for balance.
For long moments there was only the sound of their breathing and their bodies coming together. He reached between them, finding her with his thumb again, and she keened desperately, so, so close to coming a second time.
Her movements became urgent, fervent, as she raced toward oblivion. This time he went with her, his hips surging off the seat, his hands dragging her down as he buried himself, his body shuddering. Her body tightened around his as she climaxed, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she kissed him deeply.
She lay limp as a rag doll on his shoulder for what felt like a long time afterward, trying to muster the energy to move. So many things to do—get rid of the condom, get dressed, check her makeup, go back to the reception—but she was so boneless with sated pleasure she could barely blink.
“How you doing there?” he said, his voice a rumble near her ear.
She pushed herself off his chest, letting out a gentle sigh. “I’m pretty good. How about you?”
“Fair to middling.”
They began to laugh, then a car started nearby and they both ducked instinctively.
“Shit. What time is it? People must be leaving already,” Vivian said.
She slid away from him, leaving him to do whatever it was men did with the condom, and reached for her bra. He made himself decent and buckled up, then helped her wriggle into her dress. It was impossible to pull the narrow skirt over her legs while kneeling, so she cracked the door slightly, did a quick scan, then got out. Standing in the V of the open door, she smoothed the skirt down.
“Decent?” she asked.
“Hardly.”
“I meant the dress, funny guy.” She rolled her eyes. Leaning past him, she scooped her panties from the limo floor. No way was she making the rookie’s mistake of leaving those little puppies behind.
“You look fine.”
He got out of the car and she gave him a once-over. It was hard to see much in the dim lighting, but apart from being a little rumpled, he looked fine, too. Which meant they were clear to head into the reception.
She glanced toward the boathouse, not sure how to say what needed to be said.
“Listen, Seth...I had a great time. But just so you know, I’m not really looking for anything. I’ve got a lot going on with my studies, I’ve got a graduate show to prepare for...” She trailed off awkwardly.
He was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “So, what, this was just one night of the best limo-monkey-sex ever, no strings attached?”
She couldn’t tell if he was pissed or not. He didn’t sound pissed, but there was something about the way he was holding himself that made her a little nervous.
“That’s another way of putting it.”
He grinned hugely, his posture and expression relaxing. “I knew you were my kind of girl when I met you, Vivian Walker.”
She punched him on the arm, aware that he’d played her. “Thanks for freaking me out, James.”
“My pleasure.” He tugged her ruined panties from her hand. “I’m keeping these, too, by the way.” He slid them into his pocket.
“Adding them to your collection, are you?”
“I’m going to frame them and hang them above my bed.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, you are so full of it.”
But so charming and sexy, too. And, God, was he good in bed. Or, if they wanted to be strictly accurate, in car.
He pulled the cigarettes from his pocket and offered her one. She shook her head, and he lit up.
“We probably shouldn’t go back in together,” she pointed out.
“You want to go first or will I?”
“You go,” she said.
He considered her for a moment, then reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “See you ’round, Vivian.”
“Back at ya.”
He started walking toward the boathouse, trailing smoke. She watched him, a frown forming as the repercussions of what they’d done finally made their way through her hazy, champagne-muddled brain.
Her sister was married to his brother. She and Seth would see each other at family functions for the next forever. Probably getting naked with him at the first opportunity hadn’t been the best way to kick off their relationship.
Then she remembered his kiss, and the feel of his hands in her panties, and the hard, thick slide of him inside her, and she waved a hand in the air, shooing her concerns away like an annoying fly.
What had happened between her and Seth had been inevitable from the moment they’d laid eyes on each other. They’d simply gotten it out of the way sooner rather than later.
Which was a good thing.
Smoothing her hands over her hips, she took a deep breath and went to rejoin the party.
CHAPTER TWO
Ten years later
“WE READY TO go people?”
The assistant’s voice rang out over the chatter in the studio, causing a flurry of activity. Lights were tweaked, reflectors placed at the ready. Robin changed lenses on his camera, his dark head bent, his focus on the task absolute.
Vivian shook her head in admiration. He was so damn good at what he did; taking him up on his offer to become business partners was one of the best decisions she’d ever made.
The model she was dressing shifted her weight and Vivian turned to her own task, concentrating on knotting the scarf around the pretty blonde’s neck in a jaunty and sexy bow.
When she was finished she stood back, eyes narrowed as she studied the effect. The model raised her eyebrows, waiting. Vivian nodded.
“You are good to go, sweetie,” she said, patting her on the shoulder.
The girl beamed—and she was a girl, barely sixteen—and took her place on the purple velvet chaise that was the centerpiece of the photo. Vivian sighed. Were the models getting younger or was she getting older?
Probably a bit of both.
This was the last shot before lunch, but she went to the clothes rack to check that the next couple of outfits were ready to go anyway.
“Viv.”
She glanced over her shoulder, smiling when she caught sight of Jodie standing inside the doorway of the huge studio space.
“Hey. You found us!” she said, waving for her sister to come in.
Jodie glanced around anxiously, clearly worried about getting in the way. It probably looked chaotic to an outsider, but the organized mayhem was second nature to Vivian after five years working as a professional stylist. Taking pity on Jodie, she met her halfway, pulling her into a tight hug.
“Hey, gorgeous,” she said. “Thanks for coming all the way into the city to see me.”
Even though Vivian had been in Melbourne for over two months now, she hadn’t caught up with her sister nearly enough to make up for the ten years Vivian had spent in the U.S.—something Vivian intended to change now that she was home for good. Hence today’s lunch date.
“It was no big deal. This place is pretty amazing.”
Vivian looked around, trying to see her new workplace through her sister’s eyes. Once a factory, the building had been converted into studios and offices in the seventies. She and Robin had managed to snag the penthouse studio, a cavernous space with age-stained floorboards, rough brick walls that had been painted white and a vast wall of metal-framed windows that flooded the room with natural light, which was one of the many reasons she and Robin had gone gaga over it when they’d found it five weeks ago.
“It’s working out really well.”
Robin had been a friend and occasional work collaborator in L.A., but she’d still had her doubts when he proposed they join forces when he heard she, too, was planning to head home to Australia. All reservations had been blown away the first time they’d sat down to truly hammer out the details of their partnership, however, and from that day she’d been pinching herself that she’d gotten so lucky.
“So you’re settled, then?” Jodie asked.
There was an odd intensity to her gaze as she waited for Vivian’s answer.
“I’m well and truly, officially home,” Vivian said. “No way could I face another transPacific move. Besides, I missed you guys too much.”
Jodie’s two boys, Sam and Max, were nearly four and five, her mum and dad were getting older... It had been time to return, and Vivian didn’t regret it for a second, even if she did miss some aspects of her life in L.A. Her friends, the opportunities. Her very cool apartment in Los Feliz.
“Good. Because I like being able to do this instead of making do with Skype,” Jodie said.
Vivian checked her watch. “You hungry yet? Robin doesn’t need me until after lunch, so we can raid the buffet and go sit on the roof if you like?”
“That sounds suitably inner-city groovy and exciting for a mum of two from Balwyn.” Jodie rubbed her hands together in comic anticipation.
“I might have a couple of scarves and handbags to throw your way, too,” Vivian stage-whispered as they headed for a trestle table laden with food.
“Oh, goodie.”
Vivian had been keeping her sister supplied with a steady stream of fashion and accessories for years. When she was in L.A., Vivian had packed up her finds every month and shipped them to Australia, causing Jodie to joke she was “dressed by Vivian.”
“My God. How are you not the size of a house?” Jodie asked as she considered the array of food.
Sandwiches, subs, doughnuts, cake, lasagna warming in a bain-marie, three different types of salads. Vivian handed her sister a plate.
“I don’t eat dinner most of the time. And usually this sucker has been gutted by the time I get here and I get a sandwich with someone else’s fingerprints on it, and the slushy salad from the bottom of the bowl.”
“Ew. Even I would lose weight in that case.” Jodie patted her well-padded hips self-consciously.
“Jodie, if I ever have children, I will pray to the gods that I look half as good as you do,” Vivian said. “Now, dig in before these vultures break for lunch.”
They both loaded up their plates, then Vivian led her sister upstairs to the rooftop, an inhospitable concrete expanse she and Robin were attempting to humanize with a few deck chairs and potted plants.
They grabbed a chair each and chatted easily while eating—Jodie catching up Vivian on Max and Sam’s latest exploits, Vivian filling in her sister on the challenges of launching a fashion styling and photography business.
“So who is the shoot for today, then?” Jodie asked as she finished the last of her carrot cake.
“Fairbank and Rose,” Vivian said, naming one of Australia’s most prominent and exclusive department store chains.
Jodie’s eyes widened. “Is that an ongoing thing?”
“It’s an audition. We’ve got a proposal in with them, and this catalogue shoot is the first stage. I guess you could say we’re dating, but no one is ready to commit yet.”
“They’ll be down on one knee, begging you to marry them in a matter of days,” Jodie predicted.
“I should record that and play it back while I sleep,” Vivian joked. “On to more important matters. What would Sam love for his birthday?”
Her youngest nephew was turning four on the weekend, and Vivian wanted to get him something memorable and fun.
“Anything that references monkeys in any way will go over a treat,” Jodie said. “Also, anything related to pirates. If you can find a pirate monkey, you’ll have hit pay dirt.”
“Pirates and monkeys. That should be enough to get me started.”
Jodie set her plate on the ground and dusted off her skirt. She’d given up her work as an accountant when Max was born, and usually she spent the day in jeans and sweaters, but today she’d clearly gone to a bit of trouble, pairing a short-sleeved cashmere turtleneck with an Asian-print skirt Vivian had sent her.
“I wanted to ask you something important, Viv.”
She looked so serious that sudden dread clutched at Vivian’s stomach. “Okay. Should I be sitting down for this?”
“You’re already sitting down.”
“Good point. Then do I need a box of tissues?”
Jodie smiled. “I really hope not.”
Then Vivian twigged. “Oh, my God, you’re pregnant again!”
Another niece or nephew. Fantastic. And this time she would be here to share the whole experience. She leaned forward to hug her sister but Jodie fended her off with a laugh.
“Will you calm down and let me get a word in sideways? I’m not pregnant. But you’re kind of on the right track. Jason and I have been talking lately, and we realized that now that we have Max and Sam we need to stop living like kids and plan for the future.”
Vivian blinked. She couldn’t think of a single couple who were more grounded, sensible and grown-up than Jodie and Jason. They were both accountants, for Pete’s sake, they managed their finances down to the cent, they had two children, a mortgage, a dog and a family wagon. How much more adult could a person get?
“Sweetie, if you and Jason consider yourselves kids, then I am officially an embryo. No, less than that, I’m the hopeful, horny glint in someone’s eye.”
“It might look like that from the outside, but we don’t have life or disability insurance.... And we haven’t thought about who we’d like to look after the boys if something happened to us.”
Vivian stared at her sister, wondering if she was misinterpreting the hopeful expression on Jodie’s face. Surely she wasn’t asking if Vivian would be willing to step in if Max and Sam needed her to...?
“Jason and I had a big talk about it, and as much as we both love our parents, we think the boys would be better off with someone younger. Dad’s slowing down a lot now, and Jason’s mum adores the kids, but she has a bit of a short fuse when they’re being rowdy. So we wondered how you would feel about being named as guardian to Max and Sam. In case anything, you know, happened.”
Wow. Just...wow.
Vivian blinked away the hot rush of tears. She couldn’t believe this. That her sister—and Jason—trusted her so much. Sure, she knew she’d done a lot to rehabilitate her reputation as the crazy, flighty sister over the years, but for Jodie to trust her with her beloved children...
“Are those happy tears or oh-my-God-get-me-out-of-here-I’m-so-freaked-out tears?” Jodie asked.
“These are happy tears. And the answer is yes. Times a bazillion. I would crawl over broken glass for those boys, and I would be honored to be their guardian,” Vivian said earnestly.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
She was having trouble choking back a wellspring of emotion. “Jodie...I want you to know this means a lot to me. I will not let you down. I will do whatever it takes to make sure Sam and Max are happy and healthy, that they never want for anything.”
“Should anything happen to me and Jason,” Jodie amended with a twinkle in her eye.
“Right. Of course,” Vivian added hastily. “Of course.”
Jodie laughed outright. “Wait till I tell Jason you were ready to drive over and pick the kids up straight away.”
Vivian smiled sheepishly. “An enthusiastic guardian is a good guardian, right?”
“Absolutely. I hope Seth is as happy as you are. I’ll feel so much better having this all settled.”
Vivian frowned. “Seth?”
“Sorry, I should probably explain that, shouldn’t I? We want the two of you to be there for the boys. A male and female influence.”
“Right. Good plan,” Vivian said, even though she was privately boggled at her sister’s choice. Being based overseas, she’d seen Seth only a handful of times in the past ten years, but the family grapevine had kept her up-to-date on the headlines in his life. She knew, for example, that he’d given up on the band seven years ago and had been bumming around in various jobs in the nightclub and bar scene ever since. She knew that he was still a total pants man, showing up with a new girlfriend every six months, without fail. She also knew from the few times they’d been in the same room that he was still charming and cocky and sexy—but none of those characteristics were what she would have chosen for the man who would be guardian to her children.
But they weren’t her children, they were Jodie and Jason’s, and even though it almost killed her to bite her tongue, Vivian did. If they thought he would make a good role model and parental stand-in, then she would bow to their superior judgment. After all, they knew him much better than she did.
“How did he, um, react?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet. Jason’s seeing him tonight after work. He loves the kids, though, so I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. Which is probably just as well, since he’s going to be a father himself, soon.”
Vivian nearly fell off her chair. “What?”
When did this happen? And how come she hadn’t heard about it earlier? Surely if Seth had settled down with one woman long enough to get her pregnant, her sister would have considered it gossip-worthy?
A strange feeling gripped her. A little like vertigo, but not. In her secret heart of hearts, she’d kept a casual eye on Seth, ensuring she knew enough, but not too much about his life. Not because she was interested in him romantically, God forbid, but because he was the male approximation of her on Jason’s side of the family—the younger sibling, a bit of a screwup, never one to color within the lines. In a strange way, he’d become the benchmark for her own success—or not—over the years. As long as he was still single, it was okay that things hadn’t worked out with Franco and she was alone again. As long as Seth was still floating around, trying to find “his” thing, it was okay for her to be doing the same—although that hadn’t been an issue for her for a while now.
But now he was in a relationship, having a kid...? Suddenly she felt left behind. She’d been so sure she’d be the first one to settle down and start a family.
“We found out about it just last week. Personally, I think it’s because he worked out that if he’s going to be hitting me up for babysitting duties, he should probably let me know there’s a niece or nephew on the way.”
Vivian chose her words carefully. “So, have you met his girlfriend?”
“Oh, she’s not his girlfriend. This is Seth, remember? I think they were friends with benefits for a while and she got pregnant, yada, yada.”
“How’s he coping with that?” She honestly couldn’t imagine Seth getting up to do a late-night feed or changing a diaper.
“You know, pretty well.” Jodie nodded thoughtfully. “As Jason said, he’s manning up. He’s been to Lola’s doctors’ appointments and he’s doing all he can to make sure she’s got what she needs.”
“Well. Good for him.” Although, really, it was the bare minimum that should be expected of a man who had gone halves in a baby. Even accidentally. Mind, there were plenty of baby daddies who ran for the hills, so Vivian figured Seth deserved a couple of elephant stamps for effort.
“So, have you met Lola?” She was starting to feel like Mrs. Crab Apple, the gossipy neighbor, but she couldn’t deny her curiosity.
“Yeah. She’s a nice kid.” Jodie kept her face absolutely straight, but Vivian didn’t miss the implication.
“How old is she, exactly?” she asked, not sure whether to be amused or exasperated. Honestly, Seth was practically a caricature of himself.
“Twenty-four. Give or take.”
Vivian blinked.
“It’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure,” Jodie said, almost but not quite smothering a smile.
Vivian didn’t bother trying. “Hoo yeah.”
“You can tease him about it at Sam’s birthday this weekend. He will love that.”
“I bet he will.” She grinned, thinking about how much fun it would be needling him. “So, do you have any paperwork I need to sign to get my hands on these kids of yours or what?”
“Not yet. We’ll talk to our lawyer next week, though, so I’ll let you know.”
Vivian caught her sister’s hand, the easy smile fading from her lips. She wanted—needed—her sister to know that this was a big deal for her.
“Thanks for trusting me, Jodie. I won’t let you guys down.”
“I know, sweetie. That’s why I’m asking you.”
They hugged, and the warmth of her sister’s arms was the best thing Vivian had felt in a long time.
Yep, it was damned good to be home.
* * *
SETH PACED IN front of the clinic, checking his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. Lola was late again.
Even though she hadn’t responded to any of the other messages he’d left, he dialed her number, rubbing his temples. He stopped in his tracks when she actually picked up. Hallelujah.
“Hi, Seth. Sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier but I was at the checkout and there was such a huge queue behind me, I didn’t want to hold everyone up by talking,” Lola said, her Yorkshire accent more evident over the phone.
Checkout? Queue? She was shopping, instead of turning up for her thirty-six-week checkup?
Unbelievable.
Although, considering it was Lola, only too believable. To his eternal frustration.
“Lola. I’m at Dr. Mancini’s. Where are you?” He did his best to keep the impatience out of his voice, but wasn’t certain he pulled it off. They’d learned a few weeks ago that their baby was in the breech position, and this scan had been scheduled to see if the baby had corrected his or her position.
In other words, it was bloody important.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I heard about this amazing warehouse sale for baby furniture, and... Well, I forgot. Can we reschedule?”
Seth gave a silent sigh. In any other woman, he’d blame Lola’s lapse of memory on pregnancy hormones, but the truth was that she’d always been a bit flaky. Forgetful, more inclined to rub a crystal to get rid of a headache than take a painkiller, and absolutely hopeless with money. She also wasn’t great at thinking through the repercussions of her actions, or planning ahead.
“I’ll see if they can reschedule us and call you back with the time.”
“Oh, you’re waiting for me? I’m so sorry.”
Of course he was waiting for her. He came to all her appointments. Where did she think he was?
He bit back his irritation. There was no point getting frustrated with Lola. Her feelings would be hurt, and then he’d get the silent treatment for days.
“I’ll call you in five.” He hung up and went to talk to the receptionist. She was very understanding, managing to find a spot for Lola the following day, then he called Lola and passed on the details.
“Why don’t you set up a reminder on your phone for tomorrow morning?” he suggested.
“I’m not stupid, Seth. There’s no need to talk to me as though I’m a child.”
Dear God, not the don’t-treat-me-like-a-child argument again.
“I was just making a suggestion. If you don’t think it has any merit, feel free to ignore it,” he said, attempting to defuse the situation.
Too late, Lola was off and running. For the next ten minutes he listened as she enumerated her achievements—leaving her home in the United Kingdom to come here on her own two years ago, being promoted to shift leader at the call center where she used to work after only three months on the job, having to ask her parents for money only twice since she’d left home, while the girl she was living with practically had her rent paid by her father.
At times like these, he was reminded only too well of how young she was. At twenty-four, he’d been messier, less organized and a whole hell of a lot more irresponsible than her. Just as well one of his guys hadn’t slipped through back then. Twenty-four-year-old him and twenty-four-year-old Lola would have been a disaster of epic proportions. As it was, it would be a line-call as to whether thirty-four-year-old him and Lola could pull this thing off between them.
Although it wasn’t as though they had a choice.
Somehow he managed to assure her that he hadn’t been taking a shot at her, agreeing that he’d meet her at the clinic again tomorrow before ending the call. He needed to get to the bar to make his six o’clock appointment with his brother, so he jumped into his Audi and wasted five minutes trying to get it to start before the engine finally caught and he could hit the road. He made a mental note to talk to the mechanic to get the ignition fixed. One of many things he needed to take care of in the run-up to Lola’s due date. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a car that wouldn’t start when she was in labor.
He was tired and hungry by the time he parked in the reserved spot behind the bar, not a great sign when his day wouldn’t be over until at least midnight. Scrubbing his face, he let himself in the back door and hollered out a hello to the guys in the kitchen before heading upstairs to his shoe-box-size office.
He sat at his paper-strewn desk and stared bleakly at the scuffed wall. There was no getting around it—he was deeply, profoundly worried about how Lola would cope with being a mother. Not because she was a bad person, but because she simply didn’t handle difficult situations well. Her default reaction to any stressful situation was to retreat to bed and stay there eating junk food for as long as she could get away with it. Yes, she could be fun—a lot of fun—when she was in the right frame of mind, but she could also be impatient, temperamental and self-centered.
Right, and you’re a freaking saint. Perfect daddy material.
He wasn’t. He was the first to admit that. He’d lived selfishly his entire life. About the only thing he’d ever fully committed to was the bar—and, perhaps, to being a decent uncle to his brother’s kids. But he was fairly certain he understood many of the challenges that lay ahead. He knew there were going to be late nights and not a lot of sleep and periods of intense frustration and worry. He knew that no matter what else was happening for him or Lola, the baby needed them to put him or her first. Every time.
He wasn’t one hundred percent certain Lola had the same take on parenting, however. He wasn’t sure that she’d given much thought to the way things would work between them, in fact. She preferred to “take things as they come” and not get “bogged down in all the details”—both phrases she’d used to fob him off last week when he’d tried to discuss a care schedule for when the baby was born. He’d wanted her to know that he would be there to support her in any way she needed him to be, but she’d shied away from the discussion. As though by avoiding the conversation she could pretend for a little bit longer that she wasn’t about to become a parent.
Which boded really bloody well for the future.
The phone on his desk buzzed, signaling a call from downstairs.
“Hey, boss. You’re brother’s here,” Syrie said when he picked up. “You want us to send him up?”
“Thanks. And send up a couple of beers and a large fries, too, okay?”
“I’ll put it on your tab.”
“Funny.”
He took a second to check his emails—nothing urgent—before the sound of steps on the stairs announced his brother’s arrival.
“Good to see you,” Seth said when Jason entered the office. “Grab a seat. I’ve got some beers coming our way in five.”
“I knew I liked coming here for a reason,” Jason said as he loosened his tie and set down his briefcase.
Seth tried not to smile. He could count on the fingers of one hand the times Jason had dropped by Night Howls for a drink. Usually he was either working late or had some commitment with his family—which was the way it should be when you had two kids under five.
“What did you have to do to get out of jail early?” he asked.
Jason touched his briefcase with the side of his shoe. “There’s a reason why that bastard weighs a ton. Lots of stuff to go through when I get home.”
“Man, I don’t know how you do it,” Seth said, shaking his head.
He’d long since given up the hard partying days of his youth, but the thought of showing up at an office in the city at eight every morning and sitting under fluorescent lights all day and not checking out again till it was dark outside made him want to launch himself from the top of the nearest building.
Jason shrugged easily. “Horses for courses, mate. No way could I stand working the hours you do, either. I’m comatose once it hits nine.”
“That’s because you’re up at sparrow’s fart. I don’t start the day till ten, minimum.”
“That is so going to change when the baby comes along.” Jason’s laugh held more than a hint of schadenfreude. “How many weeks is it now?”
“Four.”
“It’ll be so much fun watching you do this.”
“This is an ugly side of you, just so you know.”
“Consider it payback for all the years you gave me shit for not coming out to play because I had to be home with Jodie and the kids. I’m allowed to savor the irony a little.”
Seth shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, I was a dick. You’re a good dad, and you have awesome cute kids. If they were mine, I’d want to be home with them, too, instead of out with a douche like me.”
“Funny you should mention that.” Jason yanked at his tie, loosening it further.
Seth braced himself. When his brother had called to ask if they could catch up tonight, he’d been a little surprised, given they mostly saw each other on Jason’s turf. It had only taken him a few minutes’ thought to work out what his brother wanted to see him about, however. Seth had dropped the big news about Lola and the baby on Jason and Jodie only last week, and he figured his brother was here to offer him some guidance, man-to-man. Which, frankly, he was more than happy to take. He figured he and Lola needed all the help they could get.
Syrie arrived and Jason held fire on whatever it was he was about to say while she distributed the drinks and fries. Once she was gone, Jason took a big mouthful of his beer before eyeing Seth.
“I know you’ve got a lot on your plate at the moment, so this is probably going to seem as though it’s coming out of left field, but Jodie and I talked about it and we decided that we’d leave the decision up to you. If it’s too much, we totally understand, given what you’re taking on. But you’re at the top of our list and we wanted to give you the option.”
Seth was genuinely baffled about where this conversation was going. “You want to tell me what this list is for?”
Jason nodded, smoothing his hands down his thighs, and Seth realized he was nervous. Which made him nervous.
“Okay,” Jason said. “You’ve always been really good with Max and Sam. The best uncle ever, is the way Max puts it. And Jodie and I have started putting things in place for the future in the past few weeks, just in case. Insurance, wills, that kind of thing.”
“Cheery stuff. What brought this on?”
He shrugged. “Jodie saw some movie with her girlfriends a few weeks ago—I don’t know the details, but she’s been freaking out about making sure the boys are looked after if something happens to us. Which is where you come in.”
“Me?”
“Long story short, Jodie and I would really like it if you’d be Max and Sam’s co-guardian in the event that something happened to us.”
For a moment Seth was literally speechless. He’d given his brother’s wife a lot of crap over the years—a reciprocal arrangement that they both mostly enjoyed—although he’d never had anything but the utmost respect for her as a parent. Same for his brother. They loved their kids, were firm but loving, generous but measured, and Seth figured that Sam and Max would be a whole hell of a lot better adjusted than him by the time they were grown men. That Jason and Jodie wanted him to step into their shoes if necessary was both daunting and touching.
He realized Jason was waiting for his response, a small frown between his eyebrows.
“Sorry,” Seth said. “You threw me for a second there. Yes, absolutely. I would happily be guardian to the boys. Whatever you guys need me to do.” There wasn’t a doubt in his mind.
Jason’s expression smoothed out as he sat back in his chair a little. “Good stuff. Great.”
“You didn’t think I’d say no, did you?” Seth was more than a little astonished by the notion.
“No. I know you love the kids. But taking on someone else’s family is a big deal. I wouldn’t blame you for hesitating, given your situation with Lola.”
“Since the odds of anything actually ever happening to you guys is ridiculously small, I’m not going to get too sweaty over it. But you should know that I would do whatever it took to make sure those kids get everything they want and need. As for Lola and the baby...I’d work it out.”
“Good to hear. Thanks, mate. It’s a load off, for sure. I know Jodie will be thrilled to have this all sorted. Assuming, of course, that Vivian is in, too.”
Seth had just taken mouthful of beer and he nearly choked as the meaning of his brother’s words hit home. Because Jason had said “co-guardian,” hadn’t he? Which implied that there was at least one other guardian. And now his brother had mentioned Vivian.
“You’re not seriously thinking of asking Vivian to be guardian, too, are you?” The words were out his mouth before he could think of a better way to phrase his objection.
“Why? You got a problem with Viv?”
“Not with Vivian herself, no. She’s fine—awesome fun—as herself. But as a stand-in mother? Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”
He didn’t understand how his brother couldn’t see what was so patently clear to him. Vivian was a good-time girl. She’d flitted from career to career for the past ten years, bouncing from the east coast of the U.S. to the west and then back again, rubbing shoulders with celebrities and professional party animals. Jason had regaled Seth with tales of her adventures. And now the guy thought she’d be a reliable substitute for Jodie should the worst happen?
Jason frowned. “She loves the kids. When she was in L.A. she spoke to them once a week on Skype, never fail. And since she’s been back she’s been making up for lost time with them.”
“Right. Until the next shiny, bright thing comes along,” Seth said.
“Viv’s not like that anymore. She’s grown up,” Jason said.
“You need to know that whoever you choose is rock-solid. Utterly reliable. Take it from someone who is dealing with a flaky, unreliable woman every day, it’s a nightmare and you don’t want to be exposing your kids to that kind of uncertainty.” Seth could hear the vehemence in his own tone, but he wasn’t about to apologize for it. This was important.
“I take it you’re having some issues with Lola?” Jason said carefully.
“Yes. Just a few.” It was tempting to spill his guts, but this wasn’t about him and Lola. This was about Sam and Max and doing what was best for them.
“You have my sympathy, but Viv isn’t Lola. How many times have you even been in the same room as Viv over the years anyway? A dozen?”
“Enough to know what I’m talking about.” Enough to know that he knew and understood Vivian far better than Jason ever would. He’d never told his brother about the night of the wedding and those mind-blowing minutes in the limo, and he wasn’t about to now. But as far as he was concerned, that night was the perfect illustration of his worries. Vivian had been having a good time, and she hadn’t stopped for a second to think about what the repercussions of her—their—actions might be. She’d just stripped off her dress and climbed on top because it felt good. From what he’d heard and seen over the years, doing what felt good was her life philosophy. Which was great if you were looking for a hot encounter in the back of a limo, but not so great when you were talking about ferrying kids to soccer practice and worrying about fevers at one o’clock in the morning.
In the back of his head, a voice piped up, pointing out that he’d done all those things in the back of the limo, too, and that he’d pretty much thumbed his nose at convention all his life, lived recklessly, done all the things he’d just accused Vivian of doing, and then some. He ignored it, driven by the anxiety tightening his chest. He couldn’t do anything to alter the situation he was in with Lola, but his brother could definitely dodge this bullet.
He realized that almost every muscle in his body was tense and that he’d shifted to the edge of the chair. The need to reach across the desk and grab his brother by the lapels and shake him until he saw sense was almost impossible to resist.
“I appreciate your concern, but Jodie and I are pretty settled on this,” Jason said evenly.
“Then maybe you need to talk some more. Really think about it.”
“We have thought about it. A lot. That’s why I’m here.” There was a steely note beneath his brother’s words. Despite his calmness, Seth had rattled him.
Good.
It was tempting to push harder, to drive home his point further, but there was a look in his brother’s eyes that told him it was time to back off. He’d issued his warning in the strongest terms possible, done his best to alert his brother to the danger he was courting. The rest was up to him and Jodie.
“As long as you guys are going in with your eyes open. It’s your decision,” Seth said carefully.
“Yeah, it is. Our lawyer will draw up some papers. I’ll get them to you as soon as possible so we can get this wrapped up.”
“Let me know what you need me to do or whatever and I’ll make it happen.”
There was weird vibe in the room. Jason was pissed with him. Well, so be it. If someone had tapped him on the shoulder nine months ago and told him how things were going to pan out with Lola, he would have set a new land-speed record bolting in the other direction. He’d simply given his brother good advice. He wasn’t going to apologize for that fact.
“You want another beer?” he asked.
“Actually, I should probably head home so I can help get the kids into the bath,” Jason said.
“Sure.”
He walked his brother downstairs and through the bar, following him out to the street. They exchanged a little more small talk before Jason headed for the tram stop on the main street.
Seth stood watching him walk away. Then he went inside to prepare for a busy night.
CHAPTER THREE
“WHY DON’T YOU two walking, talking menaces take it outside for five seconds while your mum and I make the magic happen?” Vivian said.
Her two nephews skidded to a halt halfway through their fourth lap of the kitchen island. They’d been circling her and Jodie like electrons around the nucleus of an atom for nearly half an hour now, fueled by excitement and too many gummy snakes in the lead up to Sam’s birthday party this afternoon.
“Are we getting in the way?” Max asked.
“What do you think?” Jodie asked.
“I think we are being superannoying,” Max said, giving his brother a high five.
Vivian tried and failed to hide her amusement.
“Please don’t encourage them. They already think they’re a comedy duo.” Jodie walked to the sliding door and pulled it open. “Outside. Now.”
Sam and Max moaned and groaned but they did as instructed, trudging across the lawn to the play equipment in the corner of the yard as though they’d been sentenced to life imprisonment.
“Poor babies,” Vivian said.
“Oh, yes, their lives are blighted. It’s a wonder they can smile, let alone laugh.” Jodie rolled her eyes.
They resumed work on the salads. Jodie mentioned that she’d caught up with Nell, one of her bridesmaids, the other day, and Vivian heard the CliffsNotes version of the other woman’s divorce. They talked about various school friends as they finished the prep work for the party, then Jason came inside from cleaning the barbecue, covered in black gunk and rust, and Jodie herded him into the laundry room to clean up. Listening to them bicker companionably and watching her nephews race up and down the climbing frame outside, a warm sense of belonging stole over Vivian.
She had loved every second of her time overseas, but there was no denying that it was good to be back. There was something about the clear, far-off blue of the Australian sky and the faint hint of eucalyptus that wafted through even the most suburban of streets on a sunny day and the flat, familiar drawl of the Australian accent that eased a pressure inside her that she hadn’t even known needed comforting. Put simply, this was home, where she belonged, and it felt right and good to be here at this stage in her life.
Her small moment of introspection was broken by the arrival of her parents, loaded down with yet more food and presents for her nephew. The other guests poured in after that, and it wasn’t long before the house and yard were alive with the sound of children playing and adults talking and laughing. Vivian did her best to be useful, circulating with platters of finger food and keeping one eye on the horde of children rampaging around the yard. She was, however, very aware of the fact that her gaze kept darting to the door every time a new guest arrived, and after catching herself doing it for the fifth time she admitted she was waiting for Seth.
It wasn’t a comfortable admission, given their history, but there was no point denying the truth. From the first moment she’d laid eyes on him she’d been aware of him—drawn to him—and apparently time, experience and maturity hadn’t changed that fact. Regardless of whatever else had been going on in her life, she’d always enjoyed matching wits with him at the family events they’d both attended.
That didn’t mean that she wasn’t fully aware of his many, many shortcomings, of course. She’d always known him for what he was—temporary fun—and had managed their relationship accordingly. But she’d be lying to herself if she pretended that she wasn’t looking forward to seeing him today. Especially since she would have the opportunity to tease him about impending fatherhood.
Despite her vigilance, he must have somehow snuck into the party without her noticing, because the next time she scanned the yard to see if there was anything she could do to help her sister, her gaze got caught on a familiar dark-haired figure keeping Jason company by the barbecue.
Seth glanced over his shoulder at almost that exact moment and her heart gave a distinct excited kick as they locked gazes.
Just like old times.
He smiled, the same cocky, confident grin she remembered so well, and she grinned in return, offering him a nod of acknowledgement. It was tempting to weave her way through the crowd to talk to him, but that would be breaking her self-imposed rule where he was concerned. She was allowed to be amused by him, she was even allowed to indulge in a little flirting, but she was not allowed to make him important. Racing to his side the moment he arrived at the party definitely fell under that category.
Instead, she returned to the kitchen, eager to occupy herself handing around more food.
“Go away. You’ve done enough,” Jodie said, shooing her away like a housefly.
“I want to help,” Vivian protested.
“Great. Go and be charming and funny and make sure everyone is having a good time.”
“It’s much easier to hand around a platter of sushi,” Vivian grumbled.
“Why do you think I’m here in the kitchen?” Jodie grabbed a clean wineglass and poured a generous amount of a sémillon sauvignon. “Here.”
Vivian took the glass with good grace and was about to slip through the sliding doors when Jodie called to her.
“Wait. Jason probably needs a beer. Which means you should probably take one for Seth, too.”
Vivian dutifully accepted the two bottles of beer, letting them hang between the fingers of her left hand. Taking a deep breath, she headed for the barbecue.
She could see Jason’s and Seth’s heads above everyone else’s. They were both slightly taller than average, and they always seemed to stand out in a crowd. Seth’s shoulders were broader than Jason’s, though, his hair darker. He was dressed more stylishly, too, in a pair of low-slung jeans and a wrinkled black shirt with cowboy boots, as opposed to his brother’s polo shirt and slightly too loose bright blue jeans—daddy denim, as she and Robin called it.
Her professional self had to give Seth points for figuring out early what suited him and sticking to it. He always looked effortlessly cool, as though he’d slung on the nearest thing when he rolled out of bed and it just happened to be a very hip shirt and the latest in edgy jeans.
“Apparently you two reprobates aren’t capable of looking after your own hydration levels,” she said as she drew closer, causing both Seth and Jason to swing to face her.
“Finally. I was beginning to think Jodie had forgotten me,” Jason said, his eyes lighting up when he saw the beers she was carrying.
“You could have gotten a beer yourself, you know,” she said as she handed one of the bottles over.
“And leave my sacred post at the barbecue? What sort of heresy have they been teaching you over in the U.S.?” Jason said.
Finally Vivian allowed herself to look at Seth. He was watching her with lazy approval, his gaze sliding over her face before dropping to her body.
“Looking good, Viv,” he said. “As always.”
She was suddenly very aware of the warm sun on her face and how cool and slippery the bottle was as she passed it to him.
“High praise from a connoisseur like yourself, Seth. Thank you.”
His mouth kicked up at the corner at her dry tone. “And she comes out fighting.”
“Self-defense. As always.”
He glanced at the beer label. “I take it there were no Peronis?”
“I don’t know. Would you like me to race back and check for you?”
He offered her the beer. “You’re a champ.”
She let the bottle hang between them, her smile becoming a grin. He knew she wasn’t going to scamper off to fetch him his preferred brand of beer, and she knew that he loved suggesting that she might.
All part of the game.
“Better drink that while it’s still cold.” She took a mouthful of wine. “Might be the only one you get.”
He laughed. “You haven’t changed much.”
“Neither have you.” It had been two years since they’d last seen each other, and any changes in his appearance had all been in his favor as far as she could see. There were new lines around his eyes and mouth, but they only served to underscore the rugged handsomeness of his face. He’d been good-looking when he was younger, but now he was truly a man, and it showed in the hard, slightly cynical light in his eyes and the density of the two days’ worth of scruff shadowing his jaw. He seemed more comfortable in his own body, too, as though he’d settled more deeply into his own skin.
“Jason tells me you’re back for good this time?”
She couldn’t help but register the skeptical note in his voice.
“A friend and I have started a business together. We’ve got a studio in West Melbourne.”
He looked surprised. “Yeah? So you really have given up all that la-la-land stuff?”
“That’s right. How about you? A little birdie tells me you’re running a bar somewhere suitably grungy.”
“Collingwood. And I own the place.” His tone told her he was aware she’d been taking a retaliatory shot.
“The same little birdie tells me that congratulations are in order.” She raised her glass. “Here’s to becoming a daddy.”
He snorted his amusement. “Go ahead, get your digs in while you can. Everyone else has.”
“Have they?” She glanced at Jason, who shrugged apologetically.
“You’ve got to admit, it’s pretty ironic. Considering.”
She knew exactly what he meant. Seth had always been a walking, talking poster boy for an unencumbered, live-for-the-moment lifestyle.
“So have you swapped that little car you used to drive for an SUV yet?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“You should probably get onto that,” Jason said. “Not much room in that Audi TT for anything.”
“It’s a baby, not a refrigerator,” Seth said.
“Still. You’re going to need to haul a lot of stuff around,” Vivian said. “Diaper bag, pram, portable cot, baby seat... You might even need to get a wagon.”
“Enjoying yourself?”
She pretended to consider. “You know, I am. Is that wrong?”
Jason laughed. Seth gave him a sardonic look.
“Your burgers are burning, by the way,” he said.
“Shit.” Jason turned to the barbecue and started urgently rotating hamburger patties.
Seth didn’t even bother trying to stifle his smile.
“This’ll be you soon,” Vivian said, unable to resist teasing him some more. It wasn’t every day a girl was handed such a golden opportunity. “Barbecues, kids running all over. The whole nine yards.”
“I’m up for it,” he said, surprising her.
She cocked an eyebrow and gave him a look, but his gaze remained unwavering.
“Well, look at that. James has grown up.”
“It’s not that much of a stretch, believe it or not. You’ll see when it happens for you.”
She laughed, acknowledging the hit. “That about makes us even, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. That stuff about my car was a low blow. I might need to get a few more digs in.”
She held her arms wide. “Free shot. Head or gut, your choice.”
His gaze ran down her body, lingering on her thighs in her tight black jeans.
“Can I choose a different body part?”
She checked her watch. “And there it is. A new record, even for you. Less than five minutes before the first innuendo passed your lips. Impressive for a new father.”
He tried not to laugh but couldn’t pull it off. “Jesus, you’re a smart-ass.”
“Thank you. I’ve had ten years of practice.”
“Has it been that long?” His gaze narrowed.
“Jason and Jodie’s ten-year anniversary was two months ago.”
He whistled. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“Doesn’t it?”
Seth took a pull from his beer. “So, tell me about this business you’re starting up.”
They talked for half an hour, filling in the gaps in each other’s lives. As always, she was hyperaware of everything she said and did while near him. He’d always had that affect on her, magnifying her self-awareness to almost painful levels.
Probably that was the rampant sexual awareness that always seemed to be unleashed when they were within a few feet of one another. As she’d acknowledged to herself all those years ago, it had been inevitable that they would sleep together, given that they enjoyed what could only be described as sizzling sexual chemistry. It was just as well that they’d gotten it out of the way early, when it meant about as little as was possible. She wasn’t so sure that she would have escaped unscathed by Seth’s charms if she’d held off any longer. He was simply too magnetic, too attractive and sexy.
Plus, she liked him. She was aware that if one of her girlfriends was dating him, she would advise her to expect nothing but great sex and lots of disappointment. But since neither she nor anyone she personally cared about was emotionally invested in him, she was free to enjoy and celebrate his good qualities.
He was funny. He was hot. He was self-deprecating in the best possible way, yet also charmingly unrepentant about his worst characteristics. He knew who he was, and he liked himself. The older she got, the more important—and rare—both those things seemed to be.
Their conversation ended naturally when Jason started transferring the cooked food to the table that was serving as a buffet. She went one way, Seth the other, and while she remained aware of him for the next few hours, she made a point of not looking in his direction or engaging with him again.
It would be too, too easy to allow their light flirtation to become something else in her own mind. She’d sidestepped that pitfall when she was twenty-three, and she wasn’t diving headfirst into it now she was thirty-three. No matter how wicked and compelling his dark brown eyes were.
The party began to die down after the birthday cake had been dispensed. Children started to become overtired and the high-pitched wail of an upset child became the norm not the exception. A steady stream of parents made their way out the door, and even though Vivian was starting to feel the call of an afternoon nap—one of life’s greatest pleasures in her book—she wasn’t about to abandon her sister to clean up alone. She was returning to the kitchen with yet another armful of dirty plates and cutlery when she found Seth saying goodbye to her sister.
“Great party, as always, hostess with the mostest,” he said, dropping a kiss onto Jodie’s cheek.
“Glad you enjoyed yourself,” Jodie said.
To an outsider, the way her lips curved upward would have looked both welcoming and friendly, but Vivian could see that there was absolutely no sincerity behind either her sister’s smile or her words. In fact, if she had to guess, she’d say Jodie was mightily pissed with Seth. Which was weird, since they had always got on surprisingly well.
“I did, thanks,” Seth said after a small hesitation. “The cake was amazing. I got some good pictures of Sam blowing out the candles. I’ll email them to you when I get home.”
“Thanks, that’d be great.”
Seth’s eyes narrowed at Jodie’s cool tone, but he didn’t push the issue, shifting his focus to Vivian and giving her a quick nod. “Good to see you, Viv. Good luck with the business.”
Behind her, Vivian heard a sound, but when she glanced at her sister, Jodie’s expression was carefully neutral.
“You, too,” Vivian said. “Maybe I’ll drop into this sleazy dive of yours sometime and have a drink on the house.”
“You do that.”
Seth glanced at Jodie one last time before heading for the door. Vivian waited until he was gone before turning to her sister.
“What was all that about?”
Jodie went to the sink and rinsed the sponge. “What do you mean?”
“All that stuff with Seth just now. Are you guys fighting or something?”
“No. Of course not.”
Jodie had always been the world’s worst liar. Her voice got all funny and high, and her gaze started wandering all over the room. Vivian decided to take the fact that her sister was currently addressing the light fixture rather than looking at her as a sign that she was onto something.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine with me,” she said.
Jodie pressed her lips together as though she was trying to contain herself. “He’s such a bloody hypocrite, that’s all. I saw the way he was looking at you when he was talking to you earlier. Like you were a woman-shaped lollypop and he wanted to lick you. If I could get away with it, I’d kick him in the shins.” The words burst out of Jodie as though propelled, and she immediately started wiping the counter as though she would mop up her words in the same way.
“Okay. Is there any reason why Seth flirting with me is a problem? I mean, I know he’s having a baby with someone else, but they’re not together, right? And he and I have always had that little flirty routine going on. It’s our thing. It doesn’t mean anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I know it’s your thing. And I’ve never had a problem with it. I thought you guys were friends. But—” Jodie took a deep breath. “You know what? This isn’t even worth getting into. Forget I said anything.”
Vivian weighed her sister’s obvious desire to drop the subject against the rather disturbing snippet Jodie had let slip and decided that she simply wasn’t able to let this one go through to the keeper.
“I was under the impression that Seth and I were friends, too. What makes you think we aren’t?”
“Nothing. It was a slip of the tongue. Ignore me.”
“Jodie.”
Her sister closed her eyes for a beat. “Viv. You don’t want to get into this. It’s between me and Jason, really. Not even that. It’s been Seth and himself. The idiot.”
Vivian watched her sister clean the already pristine granite counter. She wasn’t sure why, but for some reason she found herself thinking about the conversation they’d had earlier in the week when Jodie had asked Vivian to be co-guardian to Max and Sam. She felt a little crazy linking the two things, but her intuition was going nuts and she’d learned to trust it over the years.
“Is this to do with the guardianship?”
Jodie went very still, and Vivian knew she’d hit pay dirt.
“I don’t think we should have this conversation,” Jodie said miserably. “I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. Can we please forget it?”
Jodie looked so unhappy, Vivian swallowed her objection. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“I do. I want us both to erase the last five minutes.”
“Okay.” Uneasy, Vivian went to collect more plates.
She couldn’t stop herself from mulling over what little Jodie had said while she worked. Did Seth have some sort of problem with sharing guardianship with her? Did he want it all to himself, perhaps? Was he worried she’d fight him for custody...?
She couldn’t get her head around it. She definitely couldn’t imagine Seth agitating for sole guardianship of Sam and Max should anything happen to his brother and her sister. But clearly something was going on. Something that involved her and Seth.
“Vivian...”
She turned to find an uncomfortable-looking Jodie watching her from the patio.
“Please tell me you’re not out here imagining a million different horrible scenarios.”
“I’m not. Just one or two. That way I can get the details nice and vivid.”
Jodie groaned. “God, sometimes I have such a big mouth.” She joined Vivian at the buffet table. “Are you going to be able to forget what I said?”
“Of course. Although I’ve got to admit that I’m tempted to ask Seth what the problem is. Straight to the horse and all that.”
Jodie’s eyes went round. “God. I almost want to encourage you to do that.”
Vivian set down the dirty forks she’d collected. “Are you going to spill or what? Because you can’t keep dangling the carrot forever.”
Jodie glanced toward the house. “I promised Jason I wouldn’t say anything to you.”
“Right.”
“But I’ve already kind of ruined that, haven’t I?”
“A little.”
“Promise me that you won’t take this to heart, okay? This is about Seth, not you. About his stupid situation. Which is why he’s such a freaking hypocrite.”
“Jodie, come on. You are literally killing me here.”
“Seth doesn’t think you’re a good fit to be guardian to the boys.” Jodie said it in a rush, almost as though she was afraid that she’d lose her gumption if she went any slower.
“A good fit. What does that mean, exactly?” Vivian asked carefully.
“He’s an idiot, Vivian. His head is messed up over this baby stuff with Lola. He’s having problems with her. It’s a classic case of projection.”
“What did he say?”
“He thinks you’re unreliable. A party girl. Flighty.” Jodie curled her hand around Vivian’s. “But he doesn’t really think that, Viv. Or, if he does, it’s only because he doesn’t know you well enough to know the real you.”
Her sister’s words seemed to come from a distance, as though she was shouting them from another room. Suddenly all Vivian could remember was the way Seth’s gaze had slid down her body and lingered on her thighs when he’d asked if he could pick another body part. Meanwhile, he’d been dripping poison in her sister’s and brother-in-law’s ears, trying to convince them not to trust her with their precious children.
How. Freaking. Dare. He.
She inhaled slowly through her nose, trying to order her chaotic thoughts. There were so many directions to go, after all. Outrage, hurt, shame, anger.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I wasn’t there. Jason spoke to him alone. But he told him that we’d made our decision.”
“Was Jason worried? After what Seth said?”
“No. Not for a second.”
Vivian was hugely grateful for the fact that her sister didn’t hesitate to reassure her.
“In fact, he thought Seth was way out of line. It’s not like Seth’s got a fantastic track record himself. He’s hardly been the poster boy for upstanding citizenship over the years. He’s got a good heart, though, and we both think that is way more important than either of you having nine-to-five jobs. Who cares if it took you a while to find yourself? Who cares if you used to party like it’s 1999? All of those things mean that you’ll be able to offer Sam and Max awesome advice when they need it. If they need it.”
Vivian blinked. “He brought up my career changes? And my lifestyle?”
Jodie slapped a hand to her forehead. “Why do I keep making this worse?”
Vivian gripped her sister’s shoulders and looked her dead in the eye. “You need to tell me everything he said. Every word.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You need to.”
Because Jodie might think that Seth was being a jerk, that he was projecting, that this was some kind of manifestation of the stress he must be feeling as a parent-to-be, but she didn’t know the full story. Jodie didn’t know that ten years ago, Vivian and Seth had had wild limo-monkey-sex at her wedding.
And that changed everything. Big-time.
“Start at the beginning, and don’t stop until you reach the end,” she instructed. And then she braced herself, because she knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT TOOK VIVIAN half an hour to drag a full account of Seth’s assholery from her sister. Then it took another half hour of cajoling, begging and bullying to extract his address.
“It’s okay, Jodie, I’m not going over there with a loaded gun,” she’d assured her sister.
“You could still do plenty of damage without a gun,” Jodie protested.
Vivian planned to. And then some. But she didn’t want her sister worrying in the meantime.
“I’m simply going to let him know that he’s got it wrong. Take the higher ground. Be mature,” Vivian said. “I don’t need to stoop to his level.”
How she managed to stop her voice from trembling when she was sitting on a veritable volcano of fury was a mystery to her. But she did, and Jodie seemed somewhat mollified by her calm words and grounded demeanor.
“Okay. But just...take it easy, okay? I feel horrible telling you any of this. You weren’t ever supposed to find out.”
“I would have found out eventually, Jodie. You really think people can hide that kind contempt from one another?”
Because that was what this was about. Seth was contemptuous of her. He had judged her and found her wanting on almost every level.
The hypocritical jerk.
Never mind that he’d been in that limo, too. Never mind that he’d been the one to produce the joint, and that she was sure that weed wasn’t the only substance he’d abused during his many years of wannabe rock-and-roll stardom. Never mind that the man practically needed a revolving door installed in his bedroom to keep up with all the women he bedded, and that he’d been colossally irresponsible enough to get one of them pregnant. Never mind that he was the one who’d made a second pass at her during one of her visits home five years ago when they’d happened to be staying under the same roof for a night.
Nope, none of those things counted because he was a man, and he could do anything he wanted with impunity.
She glared out the windshield as she drove to Seth’s address in the eastern suburb of Ivanhoe, her hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. Beneath her anger, she was aware that there was a wellspring of hurt, but she refused to acknowledge it. She already felt foolish enough. For years she’d been under the illusion that she and Seth were kindred spirits. She’d believed that they’d both experienced a moment of recognition at the rehearsal dinner, that they’d understood one another intrinsically. Instinctively. Those crazy, hot minutes in the limo and all the interactions they’d had since and everything she knew of his life had only reinforced that notion.
Like her, Seth had had to shelve his dream of living large and instead find another, more realistic niche for himself. Like her, it had taken him a while to discover what that niche would be. They’d both resisted the call of convention, living their lives in ways that worked for them. And they’d both made mistakes—sometimes big ones—but managed to power through them and come out the other side with a semblance of dignity intact.
That had been her take on their relationship and on him. Clearly, Seth saw things differently. Apparently, he saw her as a sluttish loser who couldn’t get her act together. An unreliable, insubstantial party girl who shouldn’t be trusted with the well-being of two people who were incredibly precious to her. All of which made him one of the most judgmental, uninformed, narrow-minded ass-hats she’d ever met.
She found his street easily, slowing to a cruise so she could find his house number. The houses were old and large, most of them built from the deep red clinker bricks that had been popular in the twenties and thirties. She made a rude noise in her throat when she found Seth’s place. It had a high gabled front, bow windows and a neatly manicured formal garden.
Mr. Respectable. What a crock.
She slammed the car door shut with a satisfying thud. Chin high, she took a deep breath, eyeing the door of his house. Then she stalked up the driveway, suppressed rage grinding the spiked heels of her boots into the concrete with each step.
She hoped Seth had medical insurance, because he was going to need it after she’d finished with him.
* * *
SETH WAS IN the backyard scooping leaves from the swimming pool when he heard the doorbell ring. He leaned the skimmer pole against the pergola and made his way to the front door, his bare feet almost silent on the polished floor. He could see a slim silhouette through the frosted glass, and he frowned as he reached for the handle. He wasn’t expecting anyone, definitely not a female anyone. Whoever it was, he really hoped she wasn’t about to interfere with his plans for the rest of his one free evening of the week—pizza, the footy on TV and then maybe a movie. The perfect antidote to an afternoon of screaming, raucous children and his mother’s endless questions regarding Lola and the baby.
“You are a flaming hypocrite of the highest order, Seth Anderson. In fact, I don’t think I have met a more sanctimonious asshole in my entire life.”
The words flew at him the moment he opened the door, and a heartbeat later something solid thunked him in the chest. He looked down to see Vivian’s hand drawing back before the heel of her hand smacked into his sternum a second time, the power behind the blow enough to force him back a step.
“How dare you bad-mouth me to your brother? How dare you even imagine that you have a clue as to who I am or what I’m capable of, you judgmental, self-righteous prick?”
He blinked rapidly, scrambling to catch up. Vivian was clearly angry about something. Really angry, if the way she was snarling at him meant anything. Then his brain kicked in and he understood that his brother—or more likely Jodie—had shared his concerns regarding Vivian’s suitability for guardianship with her.
Awesome.
“You have no idea how lucky you are that I’m a girl and no one ever taught me to punch properly, Anderson, because your nose would be a pancake right now if I had my way.”
He caught her hand as she took a third shot at his chest, a little surprised at how hard he had to work to keep her at bay. Apparently rage bestowed unnatural powers on a woman. Who knew?
“Listen—”
“No, you listen. You don’t know me. Just because you once had the privilege of being inside my body for a few minutes—something that would never have happened unless I was very drunk and very stoned, by the way—does not mean that you get to pass judgment on me. No freaking way. You have no idea who I am or how I live my life or what my values are. You know nothing about me. Nothing. And yet you dared to try to cut me out of my nephews’ lives. Do you have any idea how freaking evil that is?”
Her blue-green eyes were bright with fury, her body rigid as she fought him for control of her arm. Her jaw-length hair swung around her face, the ruler-straight fringe ruffled by her exertions.
“Look, I have no idea what Jodie told you, but I think you might be overreacting,” he said. “Ow.”
Pain bit into his shin. She’d kicked him. Shock made him loosen his grip on her arm and she wrenched it free, taking a step backward so that she was out of his reach.
“Don’t you dare tell me I’m overreacting, you snake in the grass. You told Jason I would make a shitty guardian to Sam and Max. You said I was unreliable and a bad role model.”
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