“OKAY. PUSH THE FIVE ROLLING casters into the base until you hear them click in place.” Reading the easy-to-follow instructions aloud, Stephanie snapped each caster with ease then sat back on her knees, glancing at the diagram for the next step.
“Well, that part at least was simple,” she muttered to herself. “Insert the three part cap and gas cylinder into the hole on the base.”
Rising up, she leaned over the base and pushed the two pieces into place, widening her knees at the last second for leverage since the mechanism needed quite a shove.
“What in the hell are you doing?” a voice boomed behind her, startling Stephanie and making her topple over onto her butt on the hardwood floor.
Calder Dane. Shit. What in the hell was he doing here? And not only that, why in God’s name did everyone just come and go from each other’s homes without knocking? Okay—maybe the fact that she’d left the porch door wide open accounted for why he was standing less than five feet behind where her bottom had just been wagging in the air.
Rising swiftly to her feet, she smoothed down the slim skirt with the pleated side vent and pirouetted around on her favorite gray Prada suede heels until she faced the man invading her privacy. Shame that the minute she had him in her sights she forget her name, what he’d just barked at her, and whether they were speaking in English. Why the hell did he have to be so good-looking and so damn infuriating at the same time?
“Hello to you, too,” she finally jeered with a good dollop of eat shit implied in her delivery.
Well, she thought when he grimaced; at least he had the sense to appear peeved that she’d called him out on his lack of manners, but that didn’t stop the look he gave her which was full of menace and bordered on downright nasty. Unless she was reading him all wrong, he didn’t like her one little bit.
“Hello,” he snarled, then paused for good measure. “I’ll ask again,” he enunciated with a bite as if she was a dolt while nodding at the chair she was assembling, “What in the hell are you doing?”
She pursed her lips and glared at him. “I think it’s fairly obvious what I’m doing. What isn’t clear, however, is what you’re doing here. Draegyn left for the airport earlier—as I’m sure you no doubt know.”
The big man ignored her attempt to put him in his well-deserved place and shuffled past her, checking out the pieces left of the chair she was putting together on the floor.
“You’ll need a screwdriver. A Phillip’s head,” he said absently while surveying her chair-building progress. “And I’m here because Alex wanted me to check on Victoria—make sure she was okay with Drae being gone.”
He looked back at Stephanie, and she stiffened slightly when his steel blue eyes went on a head-to-toe visual inspection that left her wanting to slap his handsome face.
“Aren’t you a bit overdressed for what you’re doing?” he taunted. “You do know that we’re in the middle of the goddamn desert, right? The heels seem a bit much.”
Okay. She’d had enough. “Why, shugah,” she drawled with her Southern twang set to high, “don’t you know that a proper lady sleeps in her heels? Never know when some beefy hunk of testosterone may come calling.”
To her surprise, Calder Dane flinched at her pithy put-down, then reared back and barked a laugh, shaking his head and swinging his hands to his waist.
“Okay lady,” he chuckled. “I deserved that but really, heels? Please tell me you own at least one pair of jeans and some footwear that isn’t meant to drive a man insane.”
She couldn’t help but smile in return. Pushing some hair behind an ear, she sucked in her stomach and made an effort to look somewhat dignified even though Stephanie suspected she was failing miserably. This man had the strangest effect on her composure.
“Of course I have jeans,” she answered swiftly. “It’s the uniform of my generation after all!” she said while eyeing what he was wearing to make her point. “But I’m having lunch with Carmen once my daughter and Lacey get back from dropping the men at the airport—we’re going into town, and knowing Alex’s housekeeper as I do, she’ll be dressed to impress so I’m just following along.”
Calder nodded then went back to considering the pieces of the chair still on the floor. “So, explain the chair thing.”
Stooping to retrieve the instructions, she smacked a hand on her skirt, specifically on her bottom in case she’d gotten dust or dirt on her clothes when she’d sat on the floor and caught an odd gleam in the eyes of her surprise guest.
Hmmm. She’d let it go for now but a prickling sensation dancing along her nerve endings was sending some confusing signals. While she got the distinct impression that Alex’s uncle didn’t exactly care for her, he was also giving off a deepening sexual vibe that was rattling her cage.
“The chair thing,” she repeated softly. Straightening she said, “Yeah. About that—it’s quite simple really. When Tori was younger, we used her father’s old desk chair as a sort of rolling wagon. We’d stack it with grocery bags and shove it from the front door to the kitchen. Since she’s having a bit of a tough time getting around, I thought it would be fun to get a couple of these pneumatic chairs. That way she can sit and scoot all around.” She shrugged like it was no big deal and quirked a grin.
He nodded approvingly and gave her a serious raised eyebrow like she’d just discovered life on another planet.
“That’s actually a great idea,” he drawled. “And you got the ones with the arms so she’d have something to keep her steady.”
They both stood there and surveyed the chair she’d been building and the two additional chairs still in boxes.
Laughing, Calder slapped his hands together rubbing them gleefully. “I like the way your mind works—now locate that screwdriver for me and I’ll have these things put together in a flash.”
He dropped to his knees and started rearranging the pieces then looked up at her with a frown. “You do have a screwdriver, I hope?”
Cocking her hip defiantly with a hand resting at her waist she bit out, “Of course, I have a screwdriver. I’m not helpless, you know. And you don’t need to do that. I’ve got this, Mr. Dane.”
God but the man rubbed her the wrong way and excited her at the same time. Something about seeing him on his knees with those broad shoulders hunched over the half-assembled chair and noticing the way his overly long hair hung past the collar of his chambray shirt got her pulse pounding.
CALDER WAS HAVING ONE HELL of a hard time keeping his thoughts out of Stephanie Bennett’s underwear. From his vantage point on the floor, he had a devastatingly close view of her fantastic legs in those damn heels. If he leaned slightly to the left, he’d be close enough to run his hands from ankle to knee, and up under the slim gray skirt she wore. He bet she wouldn’t be stuffed into one of those stretchy Spanx garments—she in no way needed the help because her figure was impressive as it was. That thought only made him wonder what type of lingerie she preferred. Probably something soft, silky, and very, very feminine.
That didn’t mean, however, that the lady wasn’t in possession of a serious set of balls. He didn’t doubt that she was capable of kneeing him in the groin if he overstepped, and judging by that snarky mouth she had going on, he was pretty fucking sure she’d be impressive in a verbal altercation. His initial impression that Tori’s mother would be some high-maintenance Southern belle was quickly evaporating. This woman was nothing like he imagined. Nothing at all.
“You can forget that Mr. Dane shit, Stephanie,” he jeered. “I think we’re kind of beyond that, don’t you? Now hand over the fucking screwdriver and be quick about it.”
She glared at him in silence. It took all his strength not to laugh. It was abundantly clear to him that this dragon-woman saw herself as some sort of one-woman dynamo—capable of doing it all. Typical I am woman, hear me roar shit. And she probably could. Thank God. He hated helpless females, especially when the helplessness was an affectation. It was challenging to a man like him to go up against just the opposite. She didn’t want help. Yeah, well fuck her. He was the guy in this scenario and helping was what he was built for.
Holding his hand out like he was waiting for a scalpel in the operating room, Calder bit back the chuckle building in his throat when she stomped to a side table and grabbed a screwdriver while muttering under her breath. He wasn’t sure what was cuter. The way her ass tightened up, the sound of those damn heels tapping on the wood floor, or the under-her-breath comments, which he was sure, involved damning his entire sex to the fires of purgatory.
Handing him the tool, she backed off when he started deftly building the chair. After a minute she said, “Tell me again why Alex sent you down here.”
Shrugging off her question as he quickly screwed the baseplate into the chair bottom, he told her, “I think he was worried about Tori after the way she reacted last night. He’s tied up with his lawyer and Meghan couldn’t come because she’s down in the kennel giving Zeus a bath. So…here I am.”
“Oh,” she mumbled. “Well, Tori’s fine. Draegyn, uh…well, that is to say—her husband took matters into his own hands and by this morning they were all smiles again.”
Calder noticed from the corner of his eye that she’d turned a rosy color and was shifting back and forth, probably from embarrassment. Yeah, he just bet Drae took care of things. Nothing like some old-fashioned loving to get things back on track. And how funny was it that this unbelievably beautiful and very classy woman blushed at the mere suggestion of something sexual going on?
He contemplated all he was learning about the surprising enigma that was Stephanie Bennett while he assembled the rest of the chairs. When he was finished, Calder pushed each one to make sure the rollers worked properly then looked to where Stephanie stood with her arms crossed on her chest, leaning against a sturdy console table at the back of a sofa that had the distinctive look of something Drae had made in his woodshop.
Arching an amused eyebrow at her he asked, “Want to try them out?”
“Absolutely!” she enthusiastically declared with a broad smile. Dropping into the chair nearest her, she pushed both heeled feet on the floor, raised her ankles and scooted into a corner squealing with delight. “Perfect!” she gushed approvingly. “Just what the doctor ordered.”
Calder joined her in a chair and scooted around the big open space, bouncing off walls and telling her to, “Watch out,” as he zoomed in her direction. Before they ended up playing bumper cars, he grabbed the arm of her chair and gave her a hearty spin, enjoying the way she laughed gleefully all the while.
“Hey,” he hooted, “ever hear of the Doo Dah Parade?”
Oh, my God!” she giggled. “I know what that is. Pasadena, right? One of the pageant girls submitted a video of her in the parade and we all laughed at how hilarious it seemed.”
He was secretly thrilled to learn she knew about the Rose Parade’s unusual sister event since it was one of his absolute favorite quirky things to do when he went home to California. He and his sister had gone to the first one ever held when he was just sixteen. The irreverent, tongue-in-cheek alternative to the visually stunning Rose Parade never failed to make him laugh. He loved the Lawn Mower Brigade with their precision maneuvers and the moms pushing strollers who made the Rockettes seem like amateurs.
“Yeah, Pasadena. Ever been to one?” he asked with a wide grin.
“No, but after seeing the contestant’s submission, my assistant and I found a bunch of a YouTube videos that were nothing short of mind-boggling. Certainly does seem like a good time.”
Calder grabbed her hand and scooted their chairs together. “Come on then, Beauty Queen. Let’s make up a rolling chair routine.”
He liked the way her laughter bounced off the walls and how quickly she got into it. Before too long, they’d choreographed a couple of sweet maneuvers that had them twirling with hands joined, then scooting apart and zooming together back-to-back with their elbows folded and locked for another series of spins. Then they changed positions, put a knee on the seat and kicked off dramatically in series of passes that ended with them howling with laughter. They met again in the middle and held hands while they spun in tandem.
It was the booming laughter and them spinning like school kids acting up in detention that greeted Tori and Lacey when they came back from the airport.
“OOOOH, WHO’S A PRETTY GIRL?” Meghan cooed as she lathered up the black lab sitting so meekly in the big stainless steel canine bathtub in the kennel.
There were suds everywhere, but she didn’t care. Giving Zeus a weekly bath had quickly become one of Meghan’s favorite pastimes since she’d returned to Arizona. Alex’s female dog with the big brown eyes had become a fast friend all those months ago. From their first encounter, when he’d behaved like a dick and the dog quickly defected, she became Meghan’s devoted ally. Girl power!
“I think Daddy will like this bath wash,” she told the soaking wet dog as she poured more gel onto her coat and rubbed vigorously.
Zeus must have agreed because she stroked her wet tongue up the side of Meghan’s face, making her laugh with merriment. “Mmm, dog kisses. Yay!”
“Hi, Meghan,” she heard a voice drawl with humor from the doorway. “Whose bath time is it? Yours or the dog’s?”
Looking over her shoulder, Meghan beamed at the man lounging in the doorway and laughed out loud.
“Hey, Parker! You and the Major all finished?” She was surprised that Alex’s lawyer and old friend had come looking for her.
“More or less,” he told her as he strode forward and joined her at the side of the tub. “When you’re finished with that mountain of suds, I’ve got some papers for you to sign.”
Grabbing for the sprayer, she adjusted the water temperature then started squirting the bubbles off the dog, telling Parker, “Don’t stand too close unless you want to be wearing some of this! If she decides to shake, that suit of yours is going to take the worst of it.”
“Nah,” he joked as he rubbed the dog’s head. “Me and this lady go way back. She wouldn’t soak her old buddy, now would you girl?” he asked. “I was here the weekend she arrived and saw firsthand the love affair that instantly fired up between man and dog.”
Meghan chuckled. “Yeah. I would have been odd girl out if Zeus had decided not to accept me.”
Turning the water off once all the suds had been rinsed away, she grabbed a huge towel and dropped it over the dog’s back, rubbing vigorously to sop up as much water as possible. She’d shake from her nose to the tip of her tail eventually so limiting the inevitable spray of wet was imperative. When she was finished, Meghan called for one of Brody’s assistants to come take Zeus to the dryers while she wiped a clean towel down the front of her t-shirt and jeans.
“Okay, Mr. Lawyer,” she joked as she led Parker out to the hallway. “What am I signing today? Seriously—who knew getting married was so complicated.”
Alex’s old friend elbowed her playfully and scoffed. “It’s a business proposition these days.”
Meghan instantly scowled at the reminder. “You better not be coming at me with any more of that prenup bullshit because as I’ve told my fiancé, fuck that noise. I’m not signing, so there.”
“C’mon, give the old man some credit. He’s just trying to protect you, Meghan. After all, you’re coming in to this marriage with a shipping container full of money. Must say, it’s one hell of a weird position for a man like Alexander Marquez to be in. And one that I find highly amusing,” he joshed.
Amusing or not, she wasn’t having any of it. All that money was a fluke, plain and simple. She’d been lucky, that was all. Winning a huge lottery jackpot wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, though, and she spent many an hour figuring out how best to put those funds to good use.
“I don’t need protecting,” she bit out. “And the very nature of a prenup is all focused on a doom and gloom exit strategy. When I make those vows to love, honor, and obey till death, I’ll mean it from the depths of my soul so there won’t be any need for some elaborate plan to divvy things up in the event of a divorce.”
Parker looked at her with unmistakable approval shining in his expression.
“And besides, if a divorce ever becomes necessary, I’ll be under arrest for shooting his ass, so the money won’t be an issue in that case.”
Parker laughed and slung an arm about her shoulders. “This is why I like you, Irish, and why you’re so good for my old friend. If he ever steps out of line and ends up in your bull’s-eye, I’ll be supplying the bullets.”
Rounding the corner, they ran into the man himself standing like the captain of a sailing ship, legs apart and arms crossed over his chest. Oh yeah and he had a comical scowl on his face that made Meghan choke back a giggle.
“Unhand my woman, you asshole,” Alex taunted with barely disguised laughter. “What the fuck did I tell you about keeping your goddamn hands to yourself?”
Parker pushed her behind him melodramatically as though he was protecting her from the big, bad man. “She’s too good for you, Marquez,” he scoffed. “I challenge you to a duel. Winner takes all!”
Alex tossed back his head and laughed heartily then fixed her with a half grin, crooked his finger at her and said, “Meghan?”
“Nice try, Parker,” she teased then flew in to her hunky Major’s arms and planted a loud smooch on her fiancé’s cheek. Smirking at the good-natured lawyer, she hugged Alex’s arm close to her side. “I think he was propositioning Betty, even though she’s old enough to have changed his diaper. We have to find him a good woman so he stops hitting on every female with a pulse,” she purred to Alex.
Something weird passed between the two old friends, but before Meghan could pin down just what that was, it vanished. Hmmmm.
“Okay, c’mon you two. Let me get your John Hancock on a couple more things and then I’m out of here. All this lovey-dovey shit makes me nervous.”