Luxury Model Wife (11 page)

“Yeah.” Beverly’s eyes filled with tears.

“It’ll be okay.” Victoria touched her friend’s forearm. She’d thought of Beverly as the strong one, but realized how fragile the woman could be.

They pulled into Carlson’s parking lot a few minutes later and rushed into the store. Steve stood on a stepladder, trying to coax the cockatiel from the top of Mary’s head. He turned to Victoria with a chagrined expression and said, “Not a religious fellow is he?”

At least Steve hadn’t lost his quirky sense of humor. Victoria glanced around the room. Considering that Pirate had trailed a mess of feathers, dander, and doo across the store, Steve had remained remarkably calm. A surge of gratitude and affection for him filled her. The crusty exterior he presented was a sham.

“Let me try.” When she moved forward, Pirate seemed to recognize her, and squawked. His little legs danced and his black eyes blinked. He stretched his white wings and flapped them as if to lift off, but stopped short of flying and settled again on his perch. The down-covered flesh on his breast fluttered over his rapid heartbeat.

Victoria clicked her tongue and called to the bird. Steve vacated the stepladder and she climbed up after him, leaned close to the statue, and turned her left side against the cool stone. After a bit more prompting, Pirate hopped onto Victoria’s shoulder, preened, and whistled. He winked, looked around, and said, “Got any weed?”

Victoria gasped. Beverly’s hands flew to her cheeks. Steve laughed. Victoria stepped down the ladder with Pirate in her hands and marched him to his cage. She inspected his wing and found, to her relief, that his feathers were merely ruffled. The delicate wing bones were intact.

She placed the cockatiel safely inside his little house and turned back to Steve and Beverly. “Who taught him to say that?”

Beverly’s face flushed crimson. “We were just having a little fun while I bird-sat. I taught him some other stuff, too. Just for laughs.”

“I hate drugs. I don’t want my bird saying that.”

“It was a freaking joke. Lighten up. He’s okay, isn’t he?”

Beverly turned toward her studio and strode away in a whirl of peasant skirt with miniature bells attached at the hem.

Victoria frowned and clenched her jaw. Steve stared at her with the unmistakable gleam of laughter in his arresting blue eyes.

“
What?
” she snapped. Why did he have to look so damned appealing when she was trying to be mad? The curve of his lips made her want to…

She shook away thoughts of kissing—or laughing.

“Beverly was worried sick about Pirate,” Steve said. “She wouldn’t hurt a fly. You know that, right?” His tone was firm, but kind.

He angled his head to meet her gaze. His eyes seemed bluer today, with flecks of white that heightened their intensity. “I’m taking a trip for a buying appointment, but I didn’t want to leave Beverly alone in the store until Pirate was safe.”

“How long will you be gone?” Suddenly, the thought of him going away made her heart beat faster. Anxiety fluttered in her chest. She hoped her voice didn’t betray her physical response to the news.

It shouldn’t matter to her one ounce if he left—even if his jeans
were
wrapped around his finely shaped butt like a Dove chocolate wrapper. And damn if that Hollywood smile wasn’t chipping away her resolve.

What in the world was she thinking? They’d been talking about Pirate and Beverly. She had to snap out of this ridiculous…crush.

Crush?
Is that what you called this heady, can’t-breathe-around-you feeling? She’d known admiration, attraction, and respect for a man, but had never lost her head over one. Steve Carlson made her want to do…things. Crazy things she could hardly put a name to.

She needed to get a grip. “Never mind.” It wasn’t her business how long he’d be gone. “I’ll talk to Beverly. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Maybe she’d overreacted. After she apologized to Bev and cleaned up the store she’d take Pirate and go. Her association with Carlson’s had caused nothing but grief for everyone. To complicate matters, she’d entered some ridiculous flirtation that could only end in disaster.

“It’s the other way around, don’t you think?” Steve reached out and brushed her chin with his knuckles.

“What do you mean?” The feel of his hand grazing her face and the masculine scent of his skin sent tingles down her neck and over her breasts. Her heartbeat sounded like a drum roll. She touched the tip of her tongue to her bottom lip and took a quick breath. She was running out of reasons to deny his effect on her.

“I’m the one who’s caused problems,” he said. “It’s time I fixed them. My showdown with Jimmy Van Orr is long overdue. I won’t let him stand in my way anymore. Especially now.”

“Now?” Victoria lifted her face to his.

“That I’m going to kiss you.”

He traced the apple of her cheek then tucked a tangle of hair behind her ear. The motions sent low-voltage electrical charges across her skin while his fingers brushed the sensitive patch behind the circle of her lobe. The currents grew stronger as he dragged the edge of his nails along the crease behind her ear, awakening every nerve ending in her body. Their sensual connection wrapped around her like an invisible cord.

An emotion blossomed that she couldn’t describe because she’d never felt it with another man.

When his palm cupped her ear, Victoria leaned her head against his warm, solid hand and closed her eyes. A feminine part of herself she’d never acknowledged stirred.

During her marriage she’d been the seductress, the vixen, the secret to restoring her husband’s aging libido. Pleasing her husband had been her primary focus. With Steve, she sensed that pleasure would be mutual in every way.

The thought made her dizzy with want.

He kissed her then, and her eyelids fluttered as if she’d awakened from a long sleep filled with shadowy dreams. And in a way, she had. Desire burst to life.

His fingers traveled down the column of her neck and his thumb edged the line of her collarbone as he deepened the kiss, shooting tiny flames over her skin. Tongues touched and tasted, met again and retreated, while they explored. Victoria plunged her fingers into his hair, kneading his scalp with her fingertips to pull him closer. The thick blond strands tangled around her fingers and she reveled in her simple yet decisive act of possession.

*****

When they broke their kiss, Steve took Victoria by the hand. “I’ll help you clean up after Pirate. Then I think it’s time I told you the truth about my falling out with Jimmy—and about Layla. I can’t kiss you again in good conscience until I do.”

They returned to Steve’s office and he poured them both a drink. Victoria took a seat opposite the desk. “Judging by the proof of that whiskey, you must have some story.”

Steve smiled, but there will little humor in his expression. “I want you to know what you’re getting into…if you decide to be with me.”

Be with me.
Their relationship was taking a huge step forward with his confession. She wanted that, right? Victoria took a swallow of the drink in her hand. Whatever Steve told her next would help her decide.

“I want Beverly to hear this, too. She deserves to know the truth, since she’s involved in almost every aspect of Carlson’s business.” Steve left his office and returned moments later with Beverly in tow. He offered her a chair and poured her a drink.

Beverly tasted the whiskey then turned to Victoria. “I’m sorry about Pirate.”

Victoria stared back. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.” She had to laugh. “I guess this means we’re truly friends. We’ve had our first fight.”

Beverly tapped her glass against Victoria’s, and then touched it to Steve’s. “Here’s to good friends.”

“Those lost and others found,” Steve said. He took a gulp of his drink, poured another shot, and began to tell his story.

*****

“Her name was Layla. Like the Clapton song. Damn well fit her, too. I used to wonder if she tried to live up to her name or if fate made it fit. Let’s just say the woman pulled me through a razor-edged knothole until I was a bloody stump. I stayed far, far away from women for a long time after her.”

He shot Victoria a dead-on stare, hoping she’d see he wasn’t messing with her emotions. Victoria stared back, as if trying to read him.

He re-crossed his feet and scuffed the edge of one boot with the other in the process.

“I was in med school with Jimmy. We were friends most of our lives, just like our dads. When my dad delivered antiques to the Van Orr estate, I’d go with him and hang out with Jimmy.

“Kids don’t have the same social restrictions adults have. Jimmy and I really clicked, though our dads were more like business friends. They played golf or had a drink once in a while, but the Van Orrs were way out of our league. Our fathers didn’t socialize as much as they might have liked, because the Van Orrs were part of an elite group that kept them a cut above most everyone else in town. Their lives rotated on a different axis than ours. I admit I envied Jimmy’s status, and how easily things seemed to come to him. But I honestly liked him and valued being his friend.”

Steve paused with the memory of the bond they shared. Warmth filled him for the flicker of an instant, before dissolving into stone-cold regret. “As the years passed, and the lines between social classes blurred, being friends with a rich kid wasn’t such a big deal anymore. In college, Jimmy and I became roommates, and in med school we shared an apartment. By then we were more like brothers than best friends, and I never thought anything could come between us. Or anyone.

“Jimmy had class and style to spare and was smart, too. Brilliant, in fact. Few men could stand beside Jimmy Van Orr and walk taller. He was not your stereotypical spoiled rich kid.”

“I haven’t seen much of that side of him,” Victoria said. The corners of her mouth tightened ever so slightly, and her gaze dropped to the drink in her hand.

Steve knew her relationship with Jimmy wasn’t much better than his, and let the comment pass. Though he shouldn’t feel an ounce of loyalty to his old friend, Steve missed those days of camaraderie.

When Victoria looked up, he continued with his tale. “I was raised in a solid home with two good parents. We weren’t wealthy like the Van Orrs, but not hurting, either. I was expected to do my share of the chores around the house, do well in school, and stay out of trouble. I had no real problems and nothing to complain about.

“I’m not as smart as Jimmy, but close enough that we could get into the same college and pledge with the same fraternity. No one had to know I paid tuition with student loans while Jimmy’s alumnus father paid cash. We dated some of the same girls and played on the same teams. Jimmy wanted to be a cardiologist, and since my mother’s a surgeon, I figured, why not me, too? There was no reason not to apply to medical school. Jimmy and I had talked for years about opening a practice together.”

Victoria nodded. “He told me about that. I think he’s bitter about you leaving medical school.”

Steve swirled the whiskey inside his glass and watched it whirlpool. “I know. But it became clear to me early on that I didn’t have the stomach for medicine. And despite being smart, I lacked the genius of a true healer. I knew I was doomed to become a drone in some grueling family practice—if I made it through school, at all. I tried to hold on, but figured I’d wash out sooner or later.”

Beverly made sympathetic noises. “That must have sucked.” She tilted her head and watched him in a new way. “I didn’t know you were capable of self-doubt.”

“Hmm.” Though he doubted that was exactly true, since Beverly knew him better than most, Steve’s solar plexus tightened with anxiety. He’d worked hard to win the respect of everyone associated with Carlson’s, and hoped his confession didn’t diminish the women’s opinion of him. His gaze flickered to Victoria.

Her eyes lifted to his, encouraging him to continue. “Everyone’s capable of uncertainty.” The practiced calm he remembered hearing in Victoria’s voice the first time they met rang with a thousand untold stories.

Beverly relaxed in her chair and crunched an ice cube between her teeth. “What happened then?”

The beginning of the end of what he thought would be a lifetime friendship.

Steve shifted in his seat. He’d told them this much; he might as well let it all out. “I crashed headlong into my fate. I started drinking, missing classes, and chasing women.”

The shame he’d felt back then returned as he remembered the bewilderment in his mother’s eyes, the confusion on his father’s face, and Jimmy’s relentless rage. Steve knocked back his whiskey and continued talking, as if retelling the story could somehow fix what had broken.

“One of the women I hooked up with was Layla Grimes—a tall, lanky blonde who, quite literally, scrambled my brains. She was like an addiction I couldn’t shake. That’s when my medical career really took a nosedive. But I didn’t care. Layla gave me the perfect excuse to fail.”

He shot another glance at Victoria, hoping his honesty didn’t backfire and she’d think him a loser. Her expression remained impassive, though, as she shifted in her chair and re-crossed her legs. Steve’s eyes drifted upward and settled on her beautiful face. No tension bracketed her mouth, and for that, he was grateful.

“How long were you with her?” Beverly asked. She spun the ice cubes inside her glass with a fingertip. Always the curious one, Beverly was never shy about asking questions. She thrived on close personal connection.

Steve turned back to Bev, glad for the distraction from Victoria’s superb legs and the memory of how kissing her felt. “A month. Maybe six weeks. Then she dumped me when she met Jimmy.”

“Wait.
Whaaat
?” Beverly sat straighter in her seat. “She dumped
you
for Jimmy? Then why is
he
so angry? Seems like it should be the other way around.”

Steve nodded. He’d been furious at first, but had let his anger go. He’d reached the lowest point of his life and had almost understood why Layla dumped him. “We’d dated the same girls before. Jimmy had always had the best of things and probably felt entitled to Layla when I started screwing up.”