Читать книгу Just Kiss Me - Kathleen O'Reilly, Kathleen O'Reilly - Страница 7

BACK ME UPON THIS, PLEASE!

Joe Barrington refocused on the tiny letters that were precisely inked into the cocktail napkin, working to scramble the letters into a happier meaning.

Well, she’d actually done it. After twenty-one years of fighting her own battle in futility, she had decided to ask for his help. He should tell her no.

His mouth even formed the words, but when Joe looked up and stared into the fathomless blue eyes of Amanda Sedgewick, he knew he was as perfectly cooked as the Manhattan restaurant’s world famous pâté de foie gras.

Damn. Well, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“No,” he mouthed the words. He shook his head, just in case she missed what he was saying.

“Please.” Amanda mouthed back him, shooting one of those helpless female looks that under different circumstances might have worked wonders on him.

However, he’d never been one of those knights who rode around saving damsels in distress. Nope. Not even close. There were chinks in his armor. Big chinks. Huge chinks.

With a heavy sigh, he stared across the pristine tablecloth at the proud visage of Dr. Avery Barrington, III, his big brother, who was currently studying the wine list like it was the Wall Street Journal. And there sat Joe’s biggest chink.

Avery. The whole world revolved around Avery.

Before Avery had reached the advanced age of eight, he had mapped out his entire future. Mainly because in elementary school, life really sucked for guys named Avery. First, he was going to become a doctor in order to get rich just to spite those bullies who picked on the Averys of the world. And second, to further their torment, he was equally determined to marry the most beautiful girl at Neil Armstrong Elementary, who just happened to be—Amanda.

It was a simple plan, and Joe applauded his brother’s single-minded pursuit of his goals. He’d achieved them all. Avery was a wealthy plastic surgeon, the bullies from grade school were gas attendants with beer bellies, he graduated at the top of his class from Columbia, he drove a German car, but for Avery there was still one big fly stuck in the soup.

Amanda.

The last time Joe had seen her was Avery’s high school graduation. Tonight he had been surprised to see she had developed a maturity that had been missing before. She was still gorgeous, but now there was a confidence in the way she held herself and the way she talked. Just like Avery.

Which brought Joe right back to the plea for help on the cocktail napkin. Well, whatever she wanted him to back her up on, it wasn’t going to happen. Joe firmly believed that Avery’s love life, sterile and lifeless as it was, was none of his business.

“Not my problem.” Joe stated his case categorically, meeting her eyes so there was no misunderstanding. For twenty-one years he had stayed out of the whole thing, listening to Avery rhapsodize about Amanda’s porcelainlike features, and thinking yeah, she was okay if you liked cool blondes with impeccable fashion sense.

But Joe liked his women with fire in their blood and sin in their eyes. He smiled, fondly reminiscing about his last date. Sometimes it was hard to believe he and Avery shared the same genes. Maybe they didn’t. It would explain a lot. Why Joe hadn’t got into St. Alban’s preparatory school, when Avery had. Why Avery wanted to make people well, and Joe just wanted to be around planes.

The wine steward came to the table and wisely, Joe and Amanda let Avery make the selection. Amanda shot Joe another meaningful look. “Please,” she mouthed again. Then she lifted her palms, a suffering angel. Right.

Avery placed the order, and then turned back to Joe. “What were you saying?”

“I was telling Amanda that, no, I’m not going to do anything with her cocktail napkin. Thanks very much for offering.” He passed the white paper back to her, wondering why she had even agreed to go out to dinner with Avery in the first place and even more mysteriously, why she had wanted Joe to come along.

Amanda smiled politely, took the napkin in her perfectly manicured hands and sat her water glass down top of it. Amanda never gave anything away. She was the perfect complement for his brother, the liberal sophisticate.

Everything except that mouth.

In a face composed of high cheekbones and unblinking eyes, her mouth was wild and wicked. Full, red lips that curled up slightly at the corners, as if she had a secret and you knew that no matter how you tried, you’d never discover it.

Joe knew Amanda had secrets, that there was a hidden piece of her that she never showed, and he didn’t know whether it was the poised exterior or the promise of that mouth that inspired his brother.

But that was none of his business.

Finally, she raised one eyebrow, a challenge. Then she turned to Avery, and brushed her hair back on her shoulders. Very smooth. Of course, Amanda was a lawyer, and she knew all the moves. “It’s not going to work,” she said.

Huh?

Amanda picked up her glass of wine and watched Joe, her mouth curving ever so slightly. He shifted, not liking that provocative smile blasting in his direction. She turned to Avery. “It’s time I was honest with you.”

About time. And that sounded like his cue to leave. Joe stood. “Excuse me. I’m sure you two need a little privacy. I’ll just take a train home.”

“No!” All traces of steel vanished from her voice, her blue eyes soft and pleading. Avery heaved a theatrical sigh.

Surely she didn’t expect Joe to stick around while she had The Talk with his brother? Not that Joe thought it would do a bit of good. Avery would never give up. He could bulldoze the entire third world if he put his mind to it, and Joe gave Amanda high marks for managing to escape un-dozed. So far.

“I think we need to tell your brother this together.”

We? There it was again. The whispered tone, that intimate look. Like lovers. A guy could get really used to that look.

And then it all clicked. Joe. Amanda. Lovers.

Holy Cow.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” he answered, every cell in his body flashing red-alert. There were some cells that were flashing more enthusiastically than others, and Joe shifted uncomfortably. He tried for a paternally disapproving voice. “You should have talked to me before you decided to bring this up.”

And still she stared at him, and he almost forgot his good intentions. He almost forgot Avery. Which was a hard thing to do.

Thankfully, the wine steward came, and placed the bottle of wine on the table, waiting for Avery’s approval. Then the ritual began. Avery sniffed, whirled, sipped and finally nodded. The steward poured everyone a glass and then departed in silence.

“What did you want to tell me, Amanda?” Avery asked.

Amanda shot Joe one last pleading look. He almost caved. He’d pretty well figured it out. Joe and Amanda, pretend lovers. Absolutely without question, the most harebrained scheme she’d ever had to get rid of Avery. Of course, Amanda didn’t do harebrained well, and Avery wasn’t very cooperative as a dumpee.

“Avery, I’m in love with Joe.”

Her harebrained skills were improving by the minute.

It was a valiant struggle not to spew cabernet all over the pristine, white tablecloth, but he managed. He’d thought she was proposing an affair, but no, this was Amanda. Of course the lawyer would want it all. She’d say she was in love. With Joe.

Was she nuts?

He took another hasty swallow of wine. He had really underestimated her this time. Who knew that beneath that cool exterior lurked Lucille Ball? No foul though, because, of course, Avery would never believe it.

Feeling rather confident of his prediction, Joe turned to Avery. Three. Two. One.

“Joe?” Avery spluttered, predictable as always. “You can’t be serious! He’s an airline mechanic.”

And so it goes. Joe sighed and began to butter his bread. “Thanks, Ave. Love you too, bro.”

But Amanda wasn’t done yet and if Avery wasn’t blood-kin, Joe would have felt sorry for her. “I am serious, Avery. It’s something I’ve been fighting for a long time.” She turned to Joe, her wicked mouth trembling. “Something we’ve been fighting for a long time. I can’t let you ruin this for me, Avery. I won’t let you ruin my one chance at happiness.”

Avery’s face was all screwed up and confused, not a pretty sight. “But why Joe?”

Enjoying himself now, and feeling quite safe, Joe took a bite. He couldn’t wait to hear the answer to this one.

She pushed at her perfectly coiffed hair as if a strand had fallen in her eyes, which of course, it hadn’t. “Because I’m tired of being restrained and constricted and having to iron my clothes.” She took a deep breath, the neckline of her white linen dress rising discreetly. “I want to stop worrying about what I say, and who I have to meet and whether my nails are done.”

Oh, she was good. If not for the plea for help on her napkin, he might have believed her. He wasn’t going to back her up on this tale, though. Avery might be pompous and stubborn and a little bit weird, but he was his brother. And if Joe had been named Avery, he might have turned out just like him.

“I don’t understand the connection between your nails and Joe.” Avery frowned and rubbed a finger against his brow.

“There isn’t one. There doesn’t always have to be a reason or an explanation. Sometimes things just are. Joe doesn’t worry about having to be something, he’s just happy being.”

Avery assumed his doctor face, which looked so much like their father’s. “Sounds damned irresponsible to me.”

It sounded pretty irresponsible to Joe, too, but he was impressed that Amanda had enough depth to figure that part of him out.

“It’s not irresponsible, it’s serenity,” she said.

He almost laughed out loud at that. Serenity? Sounded more like New Age crap. He wondered if he should interrupt now and put an end to the whole nonsense. He wouldn’t have his brother hurt. Though it pricked at him that Avery acted more appalled than spurned. Just for that, Joe leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

He’d stop it in a minute.

Avery smoothed out his napkin, then began folding it into precise triangles. “Serenity? You’re spouting that mystic mumbo jumbo, next you’ll be telling me you’ve decided to go off on some mission to find yourself. Amanda, you’re a beautiful woman. Be happy with who you are.”

“Avery, you’re a wonderful man, and I do love you in a special way, but I will never love you like that.”

“Well, of course you will. In time you’ll see sense.” Avery rummaged through his pocket for the package of stomach medicine he carried with him. He swallowed two white tables and turned on Joe, obviously deciding that Joe was somehow responsible for this. “You’ve seduced her, haven’t you? I should call you out.” Always the dramatic one—he got that from their mother—Avery stood and slapped his napkin on the table.

“Now, Avery, sit down. There’s no need to make a scene.” Amanda put a hand to his arm.

Magic words to Avery who despised making a scene. He obediently sat.

“Nothing has ever happened between the two of us.” She cast a calming smile in Joe’s direction. “Joe is much too honorable to do anything while you are so, um, fixated.”

Avery shot a questioning glance in Joe’s direction, and Joe nodded. Damn straight.

Amanda cleared her throat and squared her shoulders and pierced Avery with a steely gaze. “However, I think it’s time that you stepped aside, and let me and your brother be happy.”

Joe watched her, silently applauding her acting skills. It was easy to imagine her in the courtroom. “And for his considerable pain and suffering, my client deserves nothing less than ten million dollars….”

However, Avery, who never got picked for juries, still wasn’t buying it. He turned to Joe, using his doctor face again. “Is this true?”

Joe looked from his brother, who looked just a little smug, to Amanda, who looked just a little desperate. It was a tough choice and his conscience even tweaked him a bit. Avery’s dedication to Amanda wasn’t exactly fair to her, but Joe stood with his brother. Now and always. He might be irresponsible, but he was loyal to a fault. “Absolutely not. She’s lying. Don’t believe a word of it.”

Amanda twisted the spoon between her fingers, that one little move giving her away. She was ticked.

“Avery, can I talk to Joe alone please? He didn’t want to do this tonight.” She shot Avery a pleading look. “Just a few minutes.”

Avery frowned, looking displeased with the idea, but he was too polite to stay, so he stood, and stuck his hands in his tweed jacket. Looking as dignified as always, he scanned the dining room. “Well, it looks like Mrs. Hoyton-Spenser is awaiting her dinner companion. I suppose I should go say hello.”

AMANDA STUDIED her nails to buy precious time, and wondered if she shouldn’t have talked to Joe in advance. Of course he would have said no, which was why she had taken the coward’s way out and waited until he couldn’t say no. It was such a brilliant plan, though and she told him so.

“It’s brilliant. Why don’t you admit it?”

“You’re insane! What happened to telling him you’re not interested?”

Joe and Avery didn’t look a thing alike. Joe was dark. Dark wavy hair, tanned skin. Avery was golden. Fair hair and a determined gleam in his eyes. The blue eyes were similar though. Except Avery’s were placid and calm, like a cool, mountain lake. Joe’s eyes were exotic and dangerous, like the waters of the Caribbean.

“Do you know how many times I’ve told him that? You’re his brother, you know how he is. I can’t divert him.”

Joe pulled at his tie and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “But this is ridiculous! Every other female in America knows how to dump a guy.”

“Joe, I’ve been dumping your brother for,” she looked at her watch, “twenty-one years. I like him. He’s sweet in a stuffy kinda of way. I’ve returned his gifts, made up excuses, gone out with other guys. Heavens, this is the first date I’ve been out on with him, and I made him bring you.”

“It’s the second. You went to the junior varsity football game with him at St. Albans.”

When did his memory get to be so good? “How did you know?”

“Avery talked about it for weeks. That night he was the envy of every guy who had ever beat him up. You always were doing nice things for him.”

“He didn’t deserve to be bullied like that.”

“No.” Joe stared off at his brother.

Amanda adjusted her forks. They were getting sidetracked. Both of them cared for Avery. “My point being, you’re the only way I know of to get him to move on with his life.”

Joe looked at her and raised his brows. “Get another guy.”

There’s the rub. Oh, she’d tried, but every date she’d ever been on could be summed up in one word: boring. Honestly, she was afraid she was boring. She didn’t want boring. She wanted Coney Island, with someone to teach her how to really live. She wanted a man who ate his jalapeños whole. And she’d found him. “Joe, I’ve tried dating other men. Nothing changed.”

Joe sighed. “Get married, then. I bet he’d get the message.”

“I’m not getting married just to get rid of Avery.” Marriage? She wasn’t ready to get married. Heck, she didn’t even want commitment. No, she wanted an affair, with a capital A. And she’d found just the guy. The perfect guy for a no-strings-attached, screaming good time. And the best part? Finally, Avery would leave her alone. Just thinking about an affair with Joe made her smile. They’d spend Sunday mornings lazing in bed, reading the paper, making love. She closed her eyes, feeling tiny tremors dance across her skin.

That wouldn’t do; she needed to stay focused. She opened her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. “Let me explain. What if we pretend to be passionately in love for say, two or three months? That’s all. I have tons of friends that I think would be perfect for him. I’ll fix him up, he’ll move on and then I’ll be free.”

He didn’t look convinced; really more skeptical than anything. “Why do you think he’ll move on?”

Why were men dense at the most inopportune times? “Joe, for you, he would step aside. It’s the noble thing to do. And Avery is nothing if not noble.”

Joe shook his head mutinously, as stubborn as Avery at times. “He’ll never forgive me.”

“In a few years, he’ll thank you.” She was completely wrong for Avery; they’d bore each other to tears. “Imagine this. We’re on a double date. I have a veritable cornucopia of sorority sisters who would enjoy the company of a prominent plastic surgeon. We’ll go to dinner and Avery acts rather dejected. She asks what’s wrong. He tells her he’s been betrayed by his brother and that his one true love is no longer true. He would love it!”

Joe raised his dark brows. Oh, he had such a great face. All lines and angles and a nose that he’d broken not once but twice. How could a woman not lust after a guy who’d actually broken his nose?

There she was, getting herself distracted again. She got back to the subject at hand. “Okay, so maybe I’m overstating things a bit, but you must admit, it has a certain Shakespearian flair that Avery would enjoy wallowing in for a while.”

“I don’t know.” At last, progress. He was beginning to waver.

“Joe, I’m not going to break down after twenty-one years and suddenly fall in love with him. It’s time for everyone to stop pretending that my future is preordained as Mrs. Avery Barrington.” She stared at her hands, nine perfectly polished fingernails and one that was short and ragged. She allowed herself one nail, but never more.

“Avery would never believe this. We have nothing in common. Hell, I haven’t seen you in ten years before tonight.”

“Avery doesn’t know that and besides, we spent our formative years together. That counts for something.”

“Going to the same church for ten years does not count as the basis for a relationship.”

“Opposites attract.”

“You’re not my type. Avery does know that.”

Ah, he’d overcome the emotional issues and was now moving to the logical. She had prepared her arguments for both.

“As it stands now, you’re right. But I think it’s time to live a little. Let my hair down, metaphorically speaking, of course.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and she studied his rough and callused hands, imagining what it would be like to feel their touch. The tremors began again. Joe was the kind of guy who inspired tremors, and fantasies. Wild, wanton fantasies that involved motorcycles and possibly leather.

Well, today she was going after her fantasy. “Joe, in the long run, this is the best thing for him. This can’t be healthy. He should be married, populating the world with little Averies that he can train in his image. I’m not the woman for him.”

“I don’t know. I think you both are perfect for each other.”

That’s what everyone else said, too. Frankly, she’d grown tired of it. “Then you don’t know me.”

“Guess not.” He cocked his head, studying her, and she wished he could see more inside her than just the facade. “Not going to do it, Amanda. I won’t hurt Avery.”

“Joe, you’re doing him more harm letting him waste his prime dating years stuck on me.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Joe, Avery is thirty. How many dates has he been on?”

Joe thought for a minute. “A handful, I think.”

“How many girlfriends?”

“Besides you?”

She dug her nails into her palms wanting to scream. “I don’t count!” Still, a few people stared.

“None.”

She lowered her voice. “Joe, Avery is probably still a virgin.”

Joe laughed. “Uh, no. There was this…” He cut himself off and cleared his throat. “But that was a long time ago and it’s none of my business.” He took a sip of wine. “I’m not going to do it. There’s got to be a better way.”

There was no other way. “Fine. Name it. You give me some idea of how I can get your brother to move on with his life, and I’ll forget all about the idea. One. Just one little thing I can do.”

Joe sipped his wine, stared at Avery, shaking hands across the room, and sighed in defeat. “Pretend dating, huh?”

Finally. “More than dating. He’s got to be convinced it’s real, passionate, something that will make him think he doesn’t stand a chance. A torrid affair.” She loved the way the words sounded, coming out of her mouth.

He turned pale. “Torrid?”

She nodded. “Torrid.”

Awareness flared in his blue eyes and all that exotic fire shot in her direction. She struggled to breath. He smiled. “Princess, I don’t think you can do torrid.”

“Is that a wager?” she managed.

As quickly as it came, the fire was gone. He was back to looking at her like everyone did. Avery’s girl. “You think this plan of yours will really work?”

“I’m willing to bet on it, aren’t I?” She held out her hand across the table, waiting. “Are you in?”

He stared for a moment, and her heart began to pound. He had never touched her, in twenty-one years, never once. She had dreamed, imagined, fantasized and now she was going to discover how his skin felt against her own. He wrapped one rough, calloused palm over her silky smooth hand and the tremors started in earnest.

“I’m not going to hurt my brother,” he said, his voice sounding faraway because he was still touching her, and her entire nervous system was threatening to explode.

She swallowed. “I don’t want to hurt him either, but I’m not about to marry him just because I think he’s a nice guy.”

He stayed silent for a moment, then dropped her hand. “I’m not going to rub his nose in this.”

Under the table, where he couldn’t see, her fingers traced the spot where Joe had touched her. “Rub his nose in it? You saw him. He doesn’t even believe it. Yet.”

“So, what do we do?”

“Well,” she pretended to think about it for a moment. “We go out on a few dates. Maybe he could catch me over at your apartment a few times…What does Avery usually know about the women you—date?”

Joe smiled, satisfied and smug, obviously recalling past—dates. Amanda wanted to smack him. Not jealous, not jealous, not jealous.

Thankfully, she saw Avery heading back, arrogant and harmless. Why couldn’t Avery be a jerk? It would make things so much easier. Instead, he was like a full-grown puppy dog. She sighed. “Look, Avery’s coming back. Tonight we’ll ease into this thing and just see what happens. Maybe it’ll be easier than you think.” Amanda doubted it, but miracles could happen.

Joe shook his head. “If he gets extra weird, I’m bailing, Amanda. I can’t see how this can be a good thing.”

At last. Acceptance. “Okay, okay. Just let me do the talking.”

He spread his hands wide. “You’re the shyster.”

Oh, fudge, this was going to be harder than she thought. “Cut the cracks. Remember we’re supposed to be deeply in lust.”

Joe just laughed; obviously thinking such an idea was ludicrous. Just you wait, Joe, just you wait.

WHEN AVERY RETURNED, he looked calm as ever. Which could only be a good thing, Joe thought. Somebody needed to be calm. Joe sure as hell wasn’t. Insane was the actual word that flashed in Joe’s mind.

With surgical precision, Avery placed his napkin in his lap; a graceful gesture that was obviously for their benefit. First Avery looked at Amanda and then back to Joe. “Well?”

Amanda began first. “As I said…”

Avery held up his hand. “No. I want to hear what Joe has to say.”

Damn. Joe had never been prepared at school, that’s why he’d been exiled into public education, and he certainly couldn’t win at a debate with his brother. He kept it simple. “She’s right.”

Avery leaned forward and Joe got that awful spider-in-the-web feeling. “Joe, are you really in love with Amanda, or are you just after a temporary diversion that is several plateaus above your normal standards?”

What was he supposed to say? Avery was his brother. He stalled, not quite ready to commit himself yet. “Avery, if I were in love with Amanda, what would you do?”

Avery took a sip of water. “And she was in love with you?”

Joe nodded.

Avery stroked his chin. “If the two of you were truly in love, I couldn’t interfere.”

Amanda shot Joe her female “told-you-so” look. “However,” Avery continued, “I fully expect this little walk on the wild side to run its course after a short time. A very short time.”

Avery lifted his glass and swirled the wine, but Joe wasn’t fooled. This was serious to Avery. “Are you in love with her, Joe?”

He didn’t like lying to his brother; there were better ways of ducking the truth, but maybe Amanda had it right after all. Joe clinked Avery’s glass with his own and nodded.

Instead of dejection, Avery’s smile was full of that same smug confidence that had got him accepted at St. Albans, a scholarship to Columbia. “Then may the best man win.”

Joe closed his eyes and sunk into his seat. No way. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? He was not going to enter into some hellish competition with his brother. When it came to Avery, Joe always lost.

Amanda poked him with her fork under the table and he shot her a dirty look. He didn’t deserve that.

But he’d gotten himself in too far. She’d sucked him right into her little pact with the devil, and so he just smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

This was such a bad idea.