Too Hot to Handle (17 page)

“I also don’t have shoes or a purse.”

“Jewelry,” Logan said. “A girl can dress in rags and tatters, but if she’s wearing the right baubles, everyone will listen to what she has to say. I still have your grandmother’s emeralds. You can wear them.”

Emeralds that would weigh heavy around her neck like iron chains she’d have to return before she could do anything else. “No thanks.”

If they were going to be friends, it wouldn’t just mean Logan listening to her problems and giving her good advice. He was an old man, with no one to look out for him. Sure, he might have been tough when he was younger, but that didn’t mean someone with a slick computer and a forceful personality couldn’t convince him that the world was a living organism about to be sucked dry by a giant spider.

“I’m from a bad bit of town, Logan. You shouldn’t loan someone like me emeralds. For that matter, you shouldn’t go around telling people like me you have emeralds to loan. They’ll take advantage of your good nature.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of having a good nature before.” Logan’s smile was bright, reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’ll loan you the emeralds, and I won’t take no for an answer. Now, can you find a dress?”

“No, but I know someone who can.”

“You look beautiful.” The compliment was a bit of polite fluff, but it was also true. Jessica had her chocolate curls pulled up into a fancy arrangement accented by a pale yellow rose. Diamonds that had been a gift from her second husband glittered at her throat.

“Of course. I was going to wear red, to go with the ‘Strawberry Fields’ theme, but I changed at the last minute.”

“The theme is Strawberry Fields?” That explained the strawberry shortcake on the dessert table and the garnish in his champagne.

If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have noticed the theme. He’d have complimented Jessica on her hard work, taken his mother on a tour of the dance floor, and left already. Instead, he was stuck there with his feet glued to the floor and his tongue flopping around awkwardly in his mouth.

Things had been going wrong for him all week. Ever since he’d loaned Honey his car, expecting to see her a few hours later across the street from the police station, and she’d vanished into the night.

He’d looked for her all over the city, rousting assorted family members who’d been less than thrilled to find a police officer at their door. They hadn’t known where Honey was, or they weren’t willing to tell them.

Either way, Jack had been left feeling frustrated and angry. Where the hell was Honey? Why had she run away? What if something had happened to her? He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his breath even.

“I’m sorry. I’m not very good company tonight. I’ve been out of it for a few days.”

“I had the most bizarre afternoon imaginable. Would you care to guess what I did?”

“A dishwasher broke a plate, and you had to track down a new set of china.”

“Bite your tongue.” Jessica smiled. “Logan Burrows took me out for ice cream.”

Jack’s throat went dry. Hell. It had been a little over a year since his sister’s last husband died. It was about time for her to start looking for a new one, and Logan was just her type—smart, old, richer than god. They’d have a few good years together, traveling the world, and then he’d keel over on a golf course somewhere.

Jessica looked good in yellow, but she looked great in black.

“Please tell me you’re not going to marry him.”

Logan might be her type, but he was tougher than her previous husbands. When he died, he might take her with him.

“There’s an idea. I hadn’t even considered that. Mrs. Logan Burrows. I wonder if you can still wear a white dress the fourth time out.”

Jack’s dismay must have showed, because Jessica laughed. “Just kidding. You should see the look on your face.”

He could only imagine. “You skipped out of party preparations for ice cream with a man, and you’re not getting married?”

“We went shopping first. He bought me this rose.” She reached up to pat her hair. “He was very sweet.”

Sweet. Jack’s eyes swept the crowd, trying to find the “sweet” man who’d bought his sister a rose. His boss had agreed not to suspend him, but only if Jack promised not to go looking for Logan.

His gaze moved back and forth before spotting Logan over by the punch bowl with his arm around the waist of a woman dressed in scarlet.

The woman’s back was to him, her body half hidden by Logan’s tuxedoed form, but that didn’t stop Jack from recognizing the shape of her muscular legs and her curvy behind.

Brilliant curls fell down her back, glistening like an autumn moon.

“Honey,” he murmured before he even realized his mouth was open. “She’s here with him?”

“Yes,” Jessica said. “We had a grand time looking for that dress.”

The dress was beautiful, with a low back that showed off acres of smooth skin and a skirt that swung above dimpled knees. When she turned toward him, the top of the dress cupped her breasts. Jack was no expert on women’s fashion, but he knew what that neckline was called. Sweetheart.

A sweetheart neckline for his sweetheart.

Make that the woman who had been his sweetheart. Now, she wasn’t objecting to the grip the old man had on her arm.

“Honey’s going to marry Logan?”

“What?” Jessica’s yelp drew attention from all corners of the room. Honey focused her gaze on him. A familiar smile spread across her face, one side slightly higher than the other. Even her smile was crooked.

The last time he’d seen her smiling like that, he’d been inside her. He’d been so damn happy, he’d felt like he could fly—just like that morning so many years earlier when he’d walked up to her outside the high school with the taste of her kiss still on his lips.

Cherry cola. It was still his favorite soft drink, but he hadn’t ordered it in years. Too sweet, too sugary. It might taste like sunshine and young love, but he knew it was bad for him.

Honey was the same way—bad news. Standing in his kitchen a week earlier, wearing his T-shirt and those damn lollipop panties, she’d been original sin. Eve in the garden. She’d offered him the apple, and he’d taken a big, juicy bite.

But it had ended with pain and confusion, just like always. He had to keep remembering that, or he’d walk over to her and ask for a dance that lasted a lifetime.

Jessica was talking, babbling, but he couldn’t quite hear the words.

“What are you saying?” Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

“For that, I should leave you to squirm. Fortunately for you, I’m a good person.” Jessica gave him a small pat on the arm. Just a little harder than was necessary. “Honey called me this afternoon. She needed help finding a dress. We went shopping. We talked. I like her a lot. I think the two of you will be great together.”

“She’s here with Logan.”

“You’re a moron. She’s here
with
Logan, but she’s here
for
you.”

Honey was here for him. The room blurred for a long moment before he swallowed hard, focusing on the woman in red. She was here
for
him.

Across the dance floor, something Logan said made her laugh, and her entire face lit up. She shimmied in place, dancing to a beat that was faster than the orchestra’s elegant concerto. Dark jewels glittered around her neck. Floaty red fabric swayed with her, tantalizing and exotic.

“It’s a beautiful dress.”

“Thank you,” Jessica said. “She wanted something a size smaller and three inches shorter. Pretty enough, but not really the thing. Consider it an apology.”

“An apology?” Jack must have been distracted again, because he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what his sister had to apologize for. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Yes, I have.” A raw quality to Jessica’s voice made him pay attention, even if he couldn’t take his eyes off Honey’s lips. “Mom ran off a dozen of my boyfriends before I started dating men she approved of, but you never had that problem. You always did the right thing. I should have warned you.”

This was certainly a day for firsts. Honey Moore stood in the middle of the Black Palm Park Country Club looking like she belonged, and his big sister had admitted she’d done something wrong.

“That’s why…” Damn, he should have realized. Jessica’s attraction to older guys made more sense now. Her husbands had been exactly the kind of men Amelia Ogden would approve of. Even Carlos—the walking, talking domestic assault charge—had his mother’s stamp of approval.

“It’s my fault as much as it is yours,” he said. “I should have tried harder. With Honey and with you. We’ve never had the best relationship.” His entire life, he’d always seen Jessica as his perfect older sister. A statue on a pedestal, not a real woman. That needed to change. “We should do something. Do you want to have dinner together sometime next week? I’m free on Friday night.”

“We’ll never get reservations for Friday night.”

“Who needs reservations? You can come over to my place, and we’ll order in pizza or Chinese food.”

“Pizza’s not on my diet.” She smiled. “But I think I can make an exception for a family dinner.”

“Good to hear.”

His gaze refocused on Honey, caught by the way light reflected off the curve of her neck. Letting her walk away a week earlier had been a mistake, but he wasn’t sure if it was one he was willing to rectify anytime soon, no matter how soft and inviting she looked. The woman was trouble. Hell on his heart, and pure poison when it came to his career.

“Do you think I should go talk to her?”

Too late. Honey was already walking his way, with Logan at her side. The only option Jack had if he didn’t want to talk to her was to run away. He didn’t need his sister to tell him that would be a mistake.

Stalking across the dance floor, Honey reminded him of a cat treading gingerly through someone else’s territory. Not a barn cat hunting mice, but the kind of feral cats that populated Los Angeles alleys.

“Jack Ogden,” she purred, her head held up high, defiant. “Imagine seeing you here.”

A laugh, light and warm. It took Jack a moment to realize the sound had come from his own throat. Of course she’d known he was coming to the fund-raiser. He’d spent a week hunting for her, and now she’d come looking for him. There could be no other reason for that dress. It was red, a color she thought looked bad on her. A color he’d complimented.

Instinct was pushing him onward. He wanted to take her with a kiss, bruising her lips and hearing her moan. Finally his.

Except that wasn’t true. Despite the red dress. Despite what Jessica said. This was another one of Honey’s games. A half-baked plot cooked up in the steel trap that passed for her mind. Completely incomprehensible to anyone with a little common sense.

“Honey Moore.” His lips flared upward into a feral smile. “Where did you steal that necklace?”

“I don’t steal,” Honey said. “I don’t sneak, and I don’t steal.”

“You stole my car.”

“I
borrowed
your car.” Her voice stressed the difference between
stealing
and
borrowing
, even if they both meant she’d had the car for the last week and he hadn’t.

“We were supposed to meet up after I gave my statement.” He struggled to maintain some semblance of control. To keep from bellowing at her in front of his parents’ friends. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I— I’m sorry. You can have the Super Bee back anytime you want. All you have to do is ask. Nicely.”

It almost sounded like a polite offer, but Jack knew better. He knew it was a challenge.

Asking for his car back nicely would mean admitting he’d loaned it to her in the first place. It would mean admitting she hadn’t done anything wrong. He was willing to believe there’d been some confusion when he handed over the keys, but he wouldn’t proclaim her innocence. Not yet.

“Mr. Burrows, the last time we spoke, you said you’d never even heard of Miss Moore. Would you care to revise your statement?”

“Don’t be a jackass,” Honey said. “Your parents were right. I look like Logan’s wife because she was my grandmother. She left my grandfather for him, and he paid for me to go to the academy. Now he’s changed his will to leave me a boatload of cash. It’s all very confusing, and at the moment I could care less. We need to talk.”