His Every Need (12 page)

Allie let herself into the house and glanced at the cluttered living room—clothes,
shoes, newspapers covered every surface along with a fine coating of dust. In the
kitchen, dirty pans littered the sink, there were cracked eggshells on the counter,
and two bags of trash sat next to the back door.

Seriously? Her dad couldn’t even take out the trash?

Trevor was right. Her family was fully capable of managing this stuff without her.
Her dad especially. Allie wasn’t their damned maid, and she wasn’t even living at
home anymore. Instead of clearing out the living room clutter, she would make a to-do
list. But she wouldn’t be able to function, thinking about the germs breeding in the
kitchen.

With a sigh, she kicked off her shoes and began loading the dishwasher. She had just
poured the dish soap when she heard the front door bang.

Allie grabbed a hand towel and strode to the living room, a smile on her face. Brynn
made it home after all. But the smile faded when she saw it wasn’t Brynn but Monica.
She stood with her back to Allie, facing a guy in his mid-twenties. He rubbed his
hands up and down Monica’s ass and squeezed it like he was checking a ripe tomato.

“What the hell, Monica?”

Her sister jumped and spun around. The guy—Brad?—smirked.

Monica’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here, Allie? Are you checking up on me?”
She sounded defensive. Her clothes were wrinkled and she looked pale.

Allie narrowed her eyes. “That would be a little hard to do, considering you’ve been
gone for days and haven’t bothered to let anyone know where you were.”

Monica stepped toward her. “I don’t have to check in with you. You’re not the boss
of me.”

Allie crossed her arms. “Really? That’s all you can come up with, ‘you’re not the
boss of me’? How about acting like the responsible adult you think you are and letting
Dad know you’re still alive?”

Monica moved past her, slammed into Allie’s shoulder, and stormed to her room. Allie
glanced at Brad. What an asshole. She supposed he was good-looking in a just-got-out-of-jail
kind of way, with his longish blond hair and darker stubble.

He gave her the once-over, his eyes lingering on her breasts. “You, uh, must be the
big sister.”

“Yeah. And you must be the dick Monica’s boning.”

That wiped the smirk right off his face. “She said you were a bitch.”

“Get out.”

He crossed his arms. “Monica invited me in. According to her, you don’t live here
anymore. So, I have a right to be here.”

Allie walked over to the phone and punched in 911. “Yeah, I’d like to report an intruder.”

He sneered at her before turning to slam out the door.

She apologized to the dispatcher and hung up before making her way to the girls’ room.
Standing in the doorway, Allie watched Monica throw clothes into a duffel bag.

“Don’t try and stop me, Allie.”

“Is that possible? Or are you so far up Brad’s ass, you can’t even listen to reason?”

Monica paused, a T-shirt in her hand. “You know, when you came home from school, everyone
was so grateful—Allie the Savior, taking care of the family. And you love it don’t
you? You love that Dad lets you make all the decisions. Makes you feel important.
Well, you’re not making my decisions, and if you try and stop me, I’ll kick your ass.”

Allie drew herself up, placed her hands on her hips. “You and who else?” Their eyes
locked in a contest of wills. Monica backed down first and shoved the T-shirt in the
bag.

“Are you even going to let Dad know where you’ll be staying?” Allie asked.

“It’s nobody’s business. Besides, I don’t want you guys coming over and nagging me
to move back home.” She crammed a handful of underwear in the bag.

Allie shook her head. “You’re making the biggest mistake of your life, Mon. Don’t
do this—at least not until you graduate. You’re so close to getting that diploma.”

Monica zipped the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I love him. I know you don’t
get that, because you’re too busy being perfect to have a life, but we love each other.
I want to be with him.”

Allie took a deep breath and willed away the tears stinging the backs of her eyes.
Yelling at her sister wasn’t a good strategy. Allie walked into the room and tentatively
touched Monica’s hand. “Fine, but stay here until graduation. You only have one more
month.”

Monica shrugged her off. “You don’t understand. I don’t care about school. I have
to be with him. I want him all the time, like I’ll die without him. He wants me to
move in with him and that’s what I want too.” She walked out of the room and headed
toward the front door.

Allie followed her. Her sister was screwing up her life and there was absolutely nothing
Allie could do to stop it.

Monica gripped the door handle but didn’t look back. “Tell Dad I’ll call in a few
days.”

And then she was gone.

When Simmons picked Allie up, she climbed into the backseat of the limo with Mags,
who rattled on about wedding details. Allie nodded, pretending to listen and mulled
over the situation with Monica. She’d made a mistake letting Monica provoke her. Maybe
if Allie’d been less confrontational, she could have at least learned Brad’s last
name.

When they stepped into the house, Frances stood in the foyer, waiting for them. She
organized Simmons and Arnold as they schlepped the bags up the stairs, Mags trailing
behind, yakking all the way.

Allie walked down the hall to Trevor’s office. She hadn’t seen him all day and she
missed him—the biting wit, the too-handsome face, the sexual innuendo. She couldn’t
blame it on the champagne, since she’d had none. It must have been the toe-curling
sex.

She softly knocked on the door and stuck her head inside. Trevor, seated behind his
desk, glanced over and motioned her forward. A dark-haired man in a suit sat across
from him.

Trevor rose and the man stood as well, buttoning his jacket. “Get back to me on the
condos, Alex. By the way, this is Miss Campbell.” He gestured to her. “Miss Campbell,
Alex Pade, my attorney.”

Alex shook her hand. “Pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you.” She stepped toward the center of the room and looked out at the
garden. She’d never get any work done with a view like that.

Trevor followed Alex to the door and locked it, then strolled toward her slowly, with
a predatory gleam in his eye. “You hung up on me, Allison.”

Her heart began to pound. He was unpredictable when he was in this kind of mood. A
mixture of wariness and excitement filled her. And he’d called her Allison in that
deep, sexy voice. That made her stomach flutter. “You were in denial about the wedding.
I assure you, your mother plans to go through with it.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the wedding. You hung up on me.” He circled her. She turned
her head, trying to track his movements.

He stopped behind her and whispered in her ear. “I think you deserve to be punished.”

She nodded. “Probably.”

He stepped in front of her. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“Just more family drama. The kind you don’t like hearing about, so please, continue
with the lecture.”

His lips twisted as he raised one brow. “I had something more exciting than a lecture
in mind. But it’s no fun when you’re like this.” He walked back to the desk and sat.
“I’m waiting.”

With a sigh, she flopped herself down in the chair across from him. “Monica came home
with Brad the Douche. She packed her stuff and is moving in with him. I met him.”

“I assume since you so eloquently referred to him as a douche, your fears about him
weren’t alleviated?”

“No. He’s steeped in bad boy. He’s every teen girl’s fantasy.”

“Did you manage to find out his last name?”

“No.”

With his elbows on the desk, he linked his fingers, his eyes narrowed in thought.
“What about a plate number?”

Allie blinked. “Like a license plate?” She slapped her forehead. “Shit, I didn’t even
think of that.” God, she was a fuckup. First, she’d left Brynn high and dry this morning,
then she’d blown it with Monica. She should have looked out the window and made a
note of what the douche was driving.

“It’s all right, Allison.”

She leaped to her feet. “No, Trevor, it’s not all right. I was supposed to make Brynn
breakfast this morning. I know that you don’t understand how important that is, but
trust me, it’s important. She needs me right now, and I’m not there for her. My other
sister is shacking up with a loser and dropping out of high school. What is she supposed
to do with her life if she doesn’t even have a high school education?” At some point,
she’d started pacing back and forth in front of the desk. “And I don’t know what to
do about any of it. So please, oh wise one, who lives in a fucking mansion and has
servants and weird-ass collectibles and a garden that costs more to water than I made
in a year, how is everything all right?” She stopped to glare at him.

He glared back and rose from his seat. “It’s not my job to fix your life any more
than it’s your job to fix your family’s. And I’ve worked very hard for everything
I have. And those weird-ass collectibles, as you put it, were my grandfather’s. I
don’t need to apologize to you or anyone else for what I’ve acquired. So, fuck off.”

She reeled back, felt like she was gasping for air. The man had no compassion, no
human decency. Of course, it was no wonder, considering the two crazies who didn’t
bother to raise him. Still, that didn’t excuse his stupid platitudes. She pointed
a finger at him. “You fuck off, English.” She turned and stalked to the door, but
when she tried to open it, she couldn’t.

“It’s locked,” he said coldly.

She spun around. “I know it’s locked. I can see it’s locked. I don’t need you and
your snotty British ass to tell me it’s locked. Okay?” She unlocked the door, threw
it open, and marched to her room.

***

Trevor thought about taking dinner in his office. It’s what he was used to, and it
would be a hell of a lot better than eating another meal with his parents. He bloody
well didn’t want to see Allison either. How dare she get angry with him because her
life was shambolic? It wasn’t his fault.

Well, it’s partly your fault.

Fine. So he’d insisted that she come live with him instead of at home, where she could
serve Brynn breakfast. What the bloody hell was so important about making breakfast
anyway? Wasn’t her father at least capable of doing that much? For God’s sake, even
Trevor could make toast and tea.

And yes, he had her car towed. And got her fired.

But Allie’s life had been falling apart before Trevor came along. He’d forgiven her
father’s debt, paid off the house, paid the hospital bills. In fact, now that he thought
about it, he was a goddamn saint. She should be thanking him. Instead, she paced in
front of his desk, ranting like a madwoman.

No, he wouldn’t cower in his office. This was his house, and the rest of them could
go hang. They were the interlopers.

He shrugged on his suit jacket, adjusted his tie, and left his office. He found them
in the drawing room, sipping on cocktails. His cocktails. His drawing room.

“Trevor, darling, come join us.” Mags patted the sofa next to her. She wore a bright
blue frock that showed too much cleavage, as usual. A large sapphire and diamond necklace
decorated her neck.

“What can I get you to drink, Trev?” Nigel stood next to the drinks cart, an obnoxious
grin on his face.
Wanker
.

“I’ll fix myself something.” He flicked a glance at Allison, sitting on the other
sofa, her posture rigid. She made a point of not looking at him.

Things had been so good between them. What the hell had happened in less than twenty-four
hours?

Her family issues, of course.

He gave his father a vicious smile and fought the urge to shove the old man out of
the way. “Do excuse me, Father.”

Nigel stepped aside. “Was just telling the ladies that we should go out for dinner
some night this week. Vegas has some bloody decent restaurants. Maybe take in a show
afterward. What do you say?”

Trevor splashed two fingers of single malt into a tumbler and took a healthy swallow.
“I don’t know why you people continue to include me in your plans. If I wanted your
company, I’d have invited you here. When did you say you were leaving again?”

Nigel just toasted him. “Cheers, Trev.”

Trevor ignored him and walked to the sofa. He dropped down beside Allie, his hip fitting
snugly next to hers.

She pressed her lips together and glanced, not at him, but in the opposite direction,
toward the mantel. “Do you mind? You’re in my personal space.”

He leaned toward her and whispered, “My cock was very much in your personal space
last night. And you, darling, loved it.” That got her attention.

She swung her head toward him. “Shut up,” she said through clenched teeth.

“What’s going on? You two having a tiff?” Nigel propped himself on the armrest next
to Mags.

“I think they are, darling. Trevor was very cross this morning.” Mags sipped her champagne,
her eyes fluttering between them.

“It’s time to eat.” Trevor stood and offered his arm to Allie.

Glaring at him, she stood and slipped her arm through his. As they made their way
to the table, Trevor leaned toward her. “I keep thinking about you, naked on the sofa.
Shall we meet in the media room again this evening?”

“Fuck off,” she said, her voice so low he barely heard her.

“That’s exactly what I’m proposing.”

Once in the dining room, he pulled out her chair and took his own seat at the head
of the table. Nigel seated Mags, and Arnold served the salad.

“Allie and I went shopping for the wedding today. Are you still thinking about kilts
for you and Trevor, love?” Mags gazed up at Nigel.

“Haven’t decided. What do you think, Trev?”

Allie smiled at him. Her fake smile. The one that danced on his last nerve.

“I think you would look great in a kilt,
Trev
.” She turned to Mags. “And have you told Trevor your wedding plans for the garden?
I was thinking that tree next to the grotto might need to come down. That way, you’d
have an unobstructed view of the waterfall.” She forked a piece of lettuce in her
mouth, looking rather smug as she chewed.

Sticking his hand beneath the table, he grasped her knee and squeezed gently. She
grunted, her mouth full. “I don’t see that as an option, do you, Miss Campbell?” He
squeezed again, a little firmer this time as she tried to pull away.

“Oh, the grotto sounds lovely. And the waterfall would look beautiful in pictures,
wouldn’t it, love?” Mags asked Nigel.

He reached out and tapped her nose with a finger. “Whatever you want, Mags, it’s yours.”

Trevor let go of Allie’s knee and watched her face. She gazed at Mags and Nigel with
a longing he didn’t understand. What was she thinking? Clearly, she didn’t find them
as annoying as he did.

As dinner progressed, his repulsive parents cooed at each other and Allie ignored
him to poke at her food. Nothing pissed him off more than being ignored.

Trevor was about to squeeze her knee again when Arnold stepped into the room. “Miss
Campbell, your sister has just arrived.”

Allie jumped from her seat. “What? My sister’s here?” She threw her napkin on the
table and hurried toward the dining room door.

Trevor stood as well. “Which sister?”

“A very young girl, brown hair.” Arnold glanced at Allie. “She had a suitcase with
her.”

Allie all but ran to the foyer, Trevor close on her heels.

Brynn stood near the front door, her eyes darting around the room. When she saw Allison,
relief filled the girl’s face. “Allie.”

Allie grasped her by the shoulders. “Oh my God, what’s wrong? How did you get here?
Is Dad okay? What’s wrong?” The words tumbled out of her, falling one on top of the
other.

“I’m okay. I took a cab.”

“Does Dad know you’re here?”

“No.” Brynn shook her head, her hair covering her face.

Trevor moved forward. “Why don’t we take her to the salon upstairs? Arnold, would
you be so good as to have Frances prepare a room and perhaps bring a tray of sandwiches?”

“Very good, sir.”

Allie threw her arm around the girl’s shoulders and followed him up the stairs. Trevor
looked back and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I hear you had to join
a school club? Ghastly, being a joiner.” He shuddered. “So, what did you finally settle
on?”

Brynn quickly glanced at him before her eyes bounced away. “Um, photography. I kind
of like taking pictures.”

“I’d like to see them sometime.” Timid, she would be at home behind the camera, watching
everyone around her, observing but never participating. Perhaps Allison was correct,
Brynn did need her. But that didn’t mean he was letting Allie go. The very thought
made him… He grimaced. Fuck, he didn’t know how he felt. But he wasn’t ready to give
her up. He reached the salon and held the door for the pair of them. “Ladies.”

Brynn, her eyes wide, practically gawked as she twirled in a circle. “Wow.” She reached
out and touched the bust of a long-forgotten Roman nobleman. “Is this for real?”

Allie guided Brynn to the leather sofa and lowered herself next to her sister. “Now,
tell me what’s happened. Why are you here, Brynn?”

Trevor stood with his back against the door, his arms crossed. He’d known Allie would
be difficult, knew she came with a full set of family baggage. Well, this was what
he got for his trouble—little sister turning up unexpectedly. But she wasn’t so bad,
really, this little girl. Could hardly be more of a pain in the ass than his own parents.

And Allie was very gentle with her, very loving. Allison Campbell was a good person.
A great lay but a good person.

“I’m leaving home. I just want to be with you, Al.” With her eyes cast to the floor,
the poor girl looked miserable.

“Brynn,” Allie said, “you know you’re a terrible liar? You have a tell, kid.”

Brynn’s eyes drifted to Allie. “I do miss you.”

“But?”

“Dad’s dating.”

Allie let out a little laugh. “Brynn, honey, that’s crazy.”

“He’s seeing my guidance counselor, Ms. Castor. I overheard them talking on the phone
last night. He was laughing, and he called her Karen.”

“I’m sure you misunderstood. Maybe they were discussing you.”

Brynn looked up then. “He’s been gone two nights this week. He said he had some errands
to run after dinner. You know Dad doesn’t do errands, he leaves all that stuff to
you. Mom’s only been dead for like, six months. It’s disgusting.”

Allie glanced up at Trevor, her face ashen.

He pushed off the door and walked forward, taking a seat across from them. “You’re
welcome to stay here, Brynn. For as long as you need to. But you have to tell your
father where you are.”