Writing a Wrong (3 page)

"About that bet..." he whispered huskily into my ear, the deep vibration of his voice making certain areas of my body practically spring to life.

"Yeah," I whispered, gripping the counter tighter. If I reached for him, I would be conceding. I could not lose this time. He pressed every lean hard inch of himself against my backside. Holy hell. The edge of the counter felt like a life raft. I couldn't, shouldn't, and most definitely wouldn't let go of it.

The palms of his hands skated along my ribs. His thumbs tickled the undersides of my breasts. That bastard. He knew that was one of my sweet spots. The softness of his lips trailed from my ear and across my cheek, barely nipping the corner of my mouth.

Any determination I had left was almost gone as my body sagged against his. I slammed my eyes closed, trying to think of anything else, but I couldn't help it. I wanted Alec bad. So I'd have to let him read my work in progress. It was better than walking around with the female equivalent of blue balls.

One of his hands left my side and began gently stroking my face. If his dirty tactics didn't feel so good, I would have called him out on it. "Open your eyes," he breathed against my lips.

I shook my head, burning all the willpower I had left. If I allowed myself to look into his deep dark brown eyes, the bet would be over. The husky smell of his trademark scent enticed me to lean in and inhale deeply from the hollow of his neck.

"Nicole." His voice was low and insistent. "Look at me. I need you to look at me."

The pleading tone in his voice was my undoing. I could not deny him. I was going to lose the bet and I no longer cared. My eyes fluttered open just as he brushed a thumb across my bottom lip. I sucked it into my mouth, making him groan in approval as I swirled my tongue around the tip. He slowly extracted his thumb from my mouth and began grinding against the lower part of my body. No longer able to take the sweet torture, I took a deep breath, ready to concede.

"Uncle," Alec whispered seconds before I could get the words out. He engulfed me with his arms as his lips crashed onto mine. Releasing the counter from my viselike death grip, I threw my arms around his neck, devouring his kiss.

"Uncle? You sure?" I asked, coming up momentarily for air.

The room tipped as he swept my feet out from under me and carried me from the kitchen. "Yep. You win. Your damsel-in-distress act worked."

My betting luck had finally changed. Who would have thought my clumsiness would work in my favor for once?

Chapter 3

"Have you talked to Jillian yet?"

"If you mean today, no. Why?" I usually spoke to my agent every week or two, but Olivia seemed to know something I didn't.

"Okay. Are you sitting down?" Olivia's excited voice leapt from the phone I had cradled between my shoulder and ear.

"Is that a trick question?"

I could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. "I'm serious. You might want to be sitting down for this."

I grinned. Olivia was known for her dramatic flair. "Fine, drama queen. I'm sitting down. What's up?"

She ignored my teasing. "Remi forwarded me your book event schedule. They've decided to do a big launch party and a twenty-city tour for the print release."

I groaned. I adored Remi, my editor extraordinaire from the publishing house I signed with, but traveling was near the top of my long list of phobias. "Twenty?" I'd done book events before, but twenty cities back to back seemed daunting. A cold knot of fear crept into my belly as another thought occurred to me. All the signings I'd done to this point were with other authors. Lots of authors. Authors who drew crowds. Now they wanted me to do a solo act? What if no one showed up? Or even worse, what if people who hated my book showed up and screamed at me and held up signs to tell the world I suck? The thought of it made me want to puke. "I'm not sure, Liv. I—"

"It'll be you and three other authors," she interrupted like she hadn't heard me. "All of you are releasing around the same time and your publisher thinks it would be good to cross-promote you. They're calling it A Little Romance on the Road. They're even leasing a tour bus for the entire trip. Like a rock band or something. Can you believe that shit?"

I weighed her words. A signing tour like that with other authors involved definitely had possibilities. Plus, the fact that I wouldn't have to fly for each leg of the journey made it seem more tolerable. I guess things weren't nearly as bad as I had initially thought. "That sounds doable."

"I'm not even done yet," she harped.

Nuts. Close, but no cigar. "Okay, what's the bad news?"

"I also heard from your publicist, and she has several other things she'd like to add to your schedule. A few of the bigger events and a—" She had to clear her throat from talking too fast. "And a couple interviews."

And there you had it.

The boom had been lowered. The dreaded word being interview. My king of all phobias. I could practically hear the little minions chiming in with the dun dun dunnn.

"Interviews? Why?" My voiced sounded squeaky, like a mouse.

Olivia sighed. "Uh, I don't know. Could it be that you're a kick-ass number-one New York Times bestselling author, not once but twice, and you scored a seven-figure book deal for your series? You're barely twenty-two and you're living the American dream. People want to hear your story."

"Lots of authors hit bestseller lists and never do interviews."

"What are you so worried about? You've been interviewed on TV before."

"They're TV interviews? You're kidding me, right? Why me?"

"Because you're not like everyone else. When other people our age, people we know, cared more about parties, chasing ass, and trying to stay awake in classes, you were busy writing and publishing bestselling books."

"You make it sound way cooler than it actually is. What it boils down to is I'm a total college recluse who got lucky."

"Lucky? Don't be a douche-mouth. I'll drive over there and kick your ass. I think what you mean to say is you have an ass-ton of talent and you worked hard. Stop shortchanging yourself."

I smiled ruefully. Olivia was loyal to the core. That's why we were best friends. She always had my back. She might have rose-colored glasses where I was concerned, but I still loved her guts. Liv was my person. "How many interviews are we talking?"

"Two by yourself and then a live video chat with the other three authors."

I gulped. That might work, I guess. Just the one interview with the other authors would have been fine by me. Better yet, none would be the best. "Who are the other authors?"

She rattled off the names and I was pleased to know that two of them were actual friends of mine. That would make the tour bearable and more fun.

"So what dates are we looking at?"

"Right after the first of the year. To give you time to finish and turn in this next book."

I nodded. At least it was after the holidays and after I met my deadline. "That works. How long are we talking?" I was guessing a month or so, which would definitely suck, but it would be manageable.

Olivia remained silent. I pulled the phone away from my ear, thinking maybe I had lost my signal or something.

"Liv?" She was still on the line, just not answering. Obviously she hadn't given me the really bad news yet.

"Two and a half months," she finally answered.

She had to be screwing with me. "What? I can't be gone for two and a half months. I have a deadline for my next series. Not to mention all the other projects I have on hold." I refrained from mentioning the real reason I couldn't leave for that long. That reason had left his sweatshirt draped over one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. There was no way I could leave Alec for two and a half months.

"They understand it might cause a couple of wrinkles, but they'd really like you to get behind this."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose to try and ease the headache that was beginning to develop between my eyes. "Meaning I don't have a choice."

"Of course you have a choice. They'd just like your decision to swing in their favor. I know it'll be tough, Nic, but I can join you for the first leg of the trip. The way they're talking, this isn't just a regular bus. We're talking rock star kind of shit, like with areas for all of you to write. And you'll still be at a hotel each night."

My eyes remained on Alec's sweatshirt as Olivia rattled on. A steady ache had spread across my chest. Two and a half months was practically a quarter of a year.

Olivia was still talking, but I tuned her out. Only when she mentioned Alec's name did I snap back to attention. "I know you'll miss your eye candy, but maybe Alec can fly in for a couple of the events."

"I doubt it. Not with school and work," I said with a heavy heart.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

I didn't laugh. "When do they want me to leave exactly?"

"The first of January. Sorry, Nicole. I know that'll put a damper on your New Year's Eve plans, but they want you in New York City for Good Morning America the following morning. You'll be in the city for two weeks where you'll have meetings with the publishing house and your editor. Jillian will be flying in that week also."

"Good Morning America? No fucking way."

"What? I said TV interviews," Olivia said, trying not to laugh at my expense through the phone.

"Yeah, but I thought you meant, like, local station stuff like I did here. Why would they want me? It doesn't make any sense." My head suddenly felt like an overinflated balloon on the verge of popping. I would rather jump off the Brooklyn Bridge when I got to New York than embarrass myself on national TV.

"We're not going through this again. Face it, Nic. People like your books. Give yourself some credit. Besides, you'll have Jillian there to take care of everything." I reluctantly nodded my head even though Olivia couldn't see me. It made sense that Jillian would want to be there for the meeting with my publishing house. I just hope she'll be prepared to drug me to get me in studio for the interview. "Okay," I said simply. This was part of my job. Meeting and interacting with readers was perhaps the most important part of being an author.

"You're cool then?" She sounded surprised that I had conceded without more of a fight.

I exhaled deeply, moving my gaze away from Alec's sweatshirt. "No, but I'll make it work. Are you still coming Thursday?" I changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on the bomb Olivia had dropped.

"I've been thinking about that, and I think maybe I should bow out this year."

"Bow out? Not on your life, slick. Besides, Tony's been looking forward to it," I teased.

She snorted. "Your brother has a Teflon ego. I'll give him that. You'd think he'd get sick of me shooting him down."

"You know you can throw him a bone and actually go out with him once. Except for his wet willies, he's really not all that bad."

"No way. It's too much fun toying with him. Besides, I told you I'd never risk our friendship by going out with any of your brothers."

"Liv, our friendship will never be at risk. I personally feel you secretly have the hots for Tony. You're just too afraid to admit it."

"You wish," she muttered. "I'll see you Thursday and we can go over the schedule in more detail."

She hung up before I could tease her any more, but something in her voice made me think I might be onto something between Tony and Liv. Tony had been making a play for her for years. Olivia continually shot him down before he could even get his flirt plane in the air, and man, did we give him shit for it. Still, he hasn't given up. The idea that she might actually say yes was both intriguing and a bit unsettling. I loved Olivia like a sister, but even I couldn't deny her praying mantis reputation. If she ever went out with Tony, there would be a chance she'd leave him chewed up in pieces. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

***

Two days later, Alec and I were making our way up the sidewalk to my parents' front door as I balanced an apple pie and a pumpkin pie in each hand. We could hear yelling coming from inside the house before we even reached the porch.

Alec looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "Do we even want to go in there?" His concern was cute, but I wasn't worried. I could handle whatever lay behind that slab of wood.

"That's normal. Can you get the door for me?"

Alec draped a protective arm around me as he opened the front door. His need to shield me was flattering, but even he couldn't save me from this kind of madness. Hell, even he wasn't safe. Alec might be a strapping six-foot-something specimen with abs of steel, but that meant nothing once we stepped through the door.

The octave level intensified the instant we opened the door. The loud ruckus was nothing new to me. After all, it was the holiday season. It wouldn't be Thanksgiving in my childhood home without a bunch of rowdy guys, and girls for that matter, yelling at the television. I could understand what it must have looked like to an outside observer, but when you grew up in it like I did, you tended to become immune. Alec's concern changed to bewilderment when a pillow sailed across the room, smacking Zachary square in the face.

Zachary cackled with laughter. "I told you the Cowboys were going to choke. Why you continue to bet against the master is beyond me."

His taunts were met with collective boos and hisses from the rest of the room.

"My family gets into their football," I explained to Alec as we stood waiting to be acknowledged. My family was a loud bunch during normal occasions. Add a little pigskin into the mix and we were like a pack of wild animals.

Alec's face eased into a grin."I gathered that," he said, fist-bumping Tony, who had just noticed our arrival.

Tony deftly caught the pillow that Zachary chucked back at him.  "Dude, please tell me you're a Cowboys fan. I need the support."

Alec shook Dad's hand and accepted a hug from Mom before answering. "Sorry, bro, me and the Cowboys don't mix."

Zachary crowed with delight. "Spoken like a true football fan. Stay away from the dark side. Losers get the beanbag chair," he said, pushing Tony toward the isolated spot in the corner no one else wanted. In a family of five, favorite spots were coveted and fought over. Usually a bet was involved, which would explain Tony's sour expression as he tried to put Zachary in a headlock.

"Hey, mind the table or you'll be watching the game from outside," Dad chastised them, rescuing his beer and Mom's glass of wine before they could be knocked over.

I handed the pies to Mom and walked over to my grandma to give her a kiss. She sat in the rocking chair, watching my brothers acting like a pack of wild dogs with a mixture of amusement and dismay. Grandpa was settled at the end of the couch next to her. "Grams and Pops, this is my friend, Alec," I said, waving Alec over.

"It's nice to meet you," Alec said, walking toward my grandparents with his hand outstretched. He greeted Grams before turning his attention to Pops. "I've heard a lot about you, sir."

"Eh?" My grandpa looked at Alec with a sour, confused expression on his face.

"I said, I've heard a lot about you," Alec repeated loudly.

"What? I have something on my shoe?" Pops answered. Alec looked to me for help, but it was my grandma who rescued him.

"Henry, stop it. You're embarrassing the young man," she said from her chair.

"Yeah, Pops. Take it easy on him," I added, kissing him on the cheek.

Alec smiled, realizing he was the butt of the joke. Pops had always been a practical joker and never missed an opportunity to razz anyone. "He's harmless. I promise," I said, comforting Alec.