Any Man I Want (3 page)

Carter—Monday, May 23—1:06 p.m.

 

 

I
loaded Katrina's bags into the trunk of the jeep with a smile. I think that's the first time in our history I'd ever seen her speechless. I liked it. The best way to deal with a high-maintenance, headstrong, used-to-getting-her-own-way woman like Audelia Katrina Montgomery? Keep it simple, state it plain, and keep it moving. Katrina was the kind of woman who men went stupid for. Not just a few men. Most men. And she knew it. And used it to her advantage. I wasn't about to become one of the many.

I'd known Katrina since she was thirteen years old and watched her grow from a cute, self-confident girl to a drop-dead gorgeous, self-assured woman. I'd met Katrina's older brother Beau over fifteen years ago when he transferred into Louisiana State University at the end of sophomore year. He and I became friends immediately. He was a baseball player, I was a football player. We were both popular and outgoing, we liked to have a good time, and neither of us lacked for dates. At one time we were known on campus as the Pontchartrain poonhounds. Though I hated the name, we'd probably earned it. We were young, smart, talented, and if I may say so, handsome as hell. Beau had been the kind of guy to take everything lightly and live one day at a time. I was the guy who weighed out all the ramifications and had a plan for the future. He was flashy in a pretty-boy kind of way and I was understated and good-looking in a less in-your-face kind of way. We probably should have disliked each other on g.p. and competed for every girl on campus. Instead, we fell into complementary synergy that lasted to this day.

When Beau invited me to his house for that first Thanksgiving holiday, I jumped at the chance to see a different kind a family life. I loved the Montgomerys at first sight. They were the exact opposite of my parents. Clara and Caleb Parks split up before I could remember them being together. Caleb took off for parts unknown two weeks after my birth. My mother, never one for responsibility, fled not too long after. For years I had been shuffled from aunt to neighbor to kindly teacher until my grandfather stepped in around the time I turned twelve. Collin Parks became both mother and father to me. He was stern, but fair, and always stressed the importance of living up to your word, getting an education, and facing situations like a man.

A few years later, he went away for a weekend and came back with an infant who he introduced as my younger brother Chris. I loved that kid at first sight. Collin and Chris made up my family unit. It was just the three of us until the day I signed my first NFL contract. That was the first day I ever laid eyes on my father. He and my mother appeared from God-knows-where with huge smiles on their faces, apologies on their lips, and their hands out. The minute I wrote a check, they disappeared, not to be seen again until their accounts ran low. The first time it hurt. The second time it stung. Then I became immune to it. I came to understand that not everybody who gives birth is a parent.

In direct comparison, Avery and Alanna Montgomery were solid, straight-shooting parents who only wanted the best for their kids and were willing to work to get it for them. Beau may have taken some time to come into his own, but there wasn't a mean bone in his body and he was deceptively smart. Roman, Beau's younger brother, was serious and ambitious with a wicked sense of humor. And then there was Katrina. At age thirteen, she was already a looker. Whip-thin and witty with a precocious attitude and smart mouth that only the spoiled baby girl of a family could pull off.

She went from cute and thin to pretty and willowy to jaw-droppingly stunning and curvy in the blink of an eye. Beau had gone into modeling after our junior year of college and Katrina followed him into the industry when she turned seventeen. We had been around each other for years. She and I had easy camaraderie from the beginning. Over the years, our interactions grew a bit more charged. Women like Katrina Montgomery were rare. If she hadn't been the younger sister of my best friend, I would have asked her out the minute she was legal. About eighteen months ago, she started throwing not-so-subtle hints that she was interested in turning the friendship into something more interesting, but as much as I wanted to . . . I wasn't ready to go there quite yet. Watching her come into her own as she stepped further away from the catwalk and more into the corporate side of design had piqued my interest. She'd developed additional depth and she wore the mantle of maturity well. I broached the topic of dating her with Beau briefly last year and he had sounded so appalled that I backed off.

But when this Delancey fool broke bad, Beau called me to ask for my opinion and assistance. Near the end of the conversation he said, “You know what, CP? If this is the type of asshole she's gonna be hooking up with, I'd just assume she'd date you.”

“Wow, ain't that a ringing endorsement?” I teased.

“Carter, you know what I mean. My only concern was that the two of you would get together, burn hot and fast, and then flame out, leaving all of us in an uncomfortable situation.”

“Could still happen,” I replied honestly.

“Yeah, but you won't put a damn sex tape of her up on effing YouTube. No matter what happens, I can count on you to treat my baby sister with some respect.”

I was momentarily stunned silent.

Beau laughed. “What did we always say?”

“We may be scoundrels, but we're gentlemen.” I recited our motto.

“Exactly so,
mon ami
.”

“So what are you saying?” I wanted him to spell it out.

“You think I didn't notice the two of you dancing around each other all these years?”

“I never laid a hand on her,” I swore.

“Of course you didn't, but you looked plenty.”

“Still looking,” I admitted.

“We Montgomerys are nice to look at. If you want to do more than look, Big Sexy, you have my blessing. She turns thirty this year and you aren't getting any younger.”

“I'm six months younger than you, bruh, and neither of us are ready for a rocking chair on the porch,” I reminded him.

“But you must admit,” he sniffed, “I'm better maintained.”

“Oh, there you go.” He may have mellowed, but his ego had not diminished.

“I'm just saying, if you ever wanted to give it a try, this is your shot.”

“Pardon me while I check and see if snowstorms have hit hell.” I honestly never thought I would see the day when Beau gave me the green light to date his sister.

“I know, I know. It just seems like a good time for her to get into a stable relationship with a well-respected man. A good man who is strong enough to deal with her without taking advantage, you know?”

“Wow. Not sure if you are complimenting me, dissin' her, or pimping me out.”

“
Mais oui
? You expect me to believe that it's gonna be a real hardship for you to date my gorgeous sister and have her on your arm? Do recall that I have been around for your revolving door of semi-relationships with a bevy of random beauties. Now that you're ready to close the revolving door, you know my sister is an upgrade.”

“You're assuming she'll go along with this?”

“Parks, all that time you were looking at her?” Beau mentioned.

“Yeah?”

“She was looking right back.”

“Well, all right then.” I nodded in satisfaction.

“And Carter?”

“Yeah?”

“You break my sister's heart, I'll break every bone in your body.”

I coughed to cover up my scoffing snort. “You wish you could.”

“Let's not find out.
C'est vrai
?”

“Agreed.”

That brought me back to right now. I was here to get Katrina off this island and sequestered someplace safe before we went back to Dallas to face the music. I figured now was as good a time as any to let her know that the days of her dallying around with the Delanceys of the world were done. As if on cue, she came strolling down the steps of the villa as if she hadn't a care in the world. She slid large sunglasses on her face and smiled at the bellhop as he carried the rest of her bags forward. I leaned against the side of the car to enjoy the view.

Her long, light-brown hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders to the middle of her back. She wore a long dress with big flowers all over it. Her shoulders were bare and she looked like she'd gotten a little sun in the last few days. She caught my interested perusal and peered at me over the sunglasses. “What are you looking at, Parks?”

“Good-looking woman walking toward me.”

“I've no doubt that you've seen one or two or those before.”

“There's no one quite like you, Katrina,” I countered honestly.

She whipped her sunglasses off and squinted at me. “What's all this now?”

I held open the door for her. “We'll talk on the plane. You need to look over your talking points on the way to the airport.”

“You already wrote my talking points?” Her voice was inching towards screechiness, but I was determined to be patient with her. She was having a hell of a day.

“Not me. The new marketing person, I forget her name.”

“Danila. I met her when I was taking night classes at Southern Methodist. She's a good friend and very savvy. We brought her on a few months ago.”

“Yep, her. She wrote them up. I'm just the messenger.” I held my hands up.

“I'm not an invalid, you know. I'm not without brains. I don't need people spiriting me away and writing words to put in my mouth.”

“Understood.” I waved toward the open door as I caught sight of a photographer, who had clearly evaded security, trudging across the beach in our direction. “Can we get going?”

She put her hand on her waist. “Carter, I'm not one of your floozies. I want answers and I want them now.”

Patience gone, I stepped to her, crowding into her space until she was pressed against the car. I placed a hand on either side of her and boxed her in. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Katrina, you're possibly the hottest woman I've ever seen and I like you. A lot. On various levels. But I'm not one of your flunkies. You won't be talking to me any old kinda way. I'm a man. All right? No one would ever mistake you for a floozy, diva. You want to have this discussion out here in open while the paparazzi hovers with telephoto lenses, or can we go?”

She blinked up at me as if trying to gauge my mood. I held her gaze while she decided what to do next. A small smile lifted her lips. Her hands slid under my jacket to bracket around my waist. “I know you're a man, Carter. Believe me, I know. We can go.”

“Well, all right then.” I nodded, backed off, and aided her into the car. We exchanged a loaded glance before I pulled out and headed toward the airport.

Katrina—Monday, May 23—3:41 p.m.

 

 

“I
'm not saying this.” I sat in the airport lounge and scrolled through the prepared statement on my tablet and shook my head. “It's very professional and classy and I get why it was written this way, but I'm not saying that.”

Carter let out a full-bellied laugh. “You just won me twenty bucks.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I bet Beau that you would not go for that sugary-ass statement.”

“Yeah, no. If I'm speaking, I'm doing it my way and damn the consequences.”

“My girl. Do you.”

I glanced over at him and then looked out the window at the small plane sitting on the tarmac. “Is that the same plane Beau and Belle used last year?”

“Yep.”

“What's a former football player and current real estate developer doing with a plane?”

“It's a shared resource. Six of us went in on it. Are you trying to ask me something?”

It occurred to me that I didn't know that much about Carter. He went to school with my brother, he owned real estate, he did something involving venture capital, and he had some charities. I knew he had a younger brother and that his grandfather raised him. He was from a small town in Louisiana. I knew he was popular with the ladies. But that's about all I knew. “What's your middle name?”

“Evan.”

“How did you get the name Big Sexy?”

“By being big and sexy, probably,” he teased.

“Seriously, there's no story behind it?”

“There's a story behind it, but if I tell you, I'd have to kill you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Uh-huh. Do the people you work with call you Big Sexy?”

“No, the only people that call me that knew me from my football days.”

“Your wild and wicked days?”

“I didn't attach any adjectives.”

“So you're not wild and wicked anymore?” I probed.

“I don't know about all that,” he answered cryptically.

“I'm just saying. I can imagine.” I could only imagine.

“Can you?” He grinned. “I'll just let you do that then.”

Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth. “Where do you live?”

“Dallas.”

I almost stomped my foot in frustration. “I
know
that. I mean what part?”

“Highland Park.” He named a very prestigious and traditional tree-lined neighborhood where the uber-rich, old money, and power brokers live.

“Highland Park?” I arched a brow.

“Highland Park.”

“I would have pegged you for a loft in Uptown. Or a townhouse near Legacy.” Legacy was a new live-work-play area north of Dallas with corporate headquarters, night spots, planned communities and upscale eateries. It was a haven for up-and-coming professionals.

“Four-bedroom house in Highland Park.”

“Seriously?” That was the home and neighborhood of someone planning on settling down and having a family. Carter had some hidden depths I knew nothing about. But... I was quickly thinking I wanted to learn.

“Seriously,” he confirmed, grinning as if he knew what I was thinking.

“So are you rich?”

“You need a loan, Kit-Kat?” he drawled.

“Nope, I'm just asking.”

“I can afford you, princess.”

I sent a side-eye his way. “I can afford myself, thank you very much.”

“You're welcome very much. You know, we actually have a lot in common.”

“We do?” I wondered what.

“We do. We both became successful in careers that require spectators and look a lot more glamorous from the outside looking in. We're both originally from Louisiana. We both put family above all else. We both get underestimated when people don't look beneath the surface with us. And we both like doing things for ourselves, hate to admit weakness, and won't back down from a fight.”

“Huh.” I let all of that sink in. He got me. Probably better than anyone else I could think of. I wasn't sure what to do with that.

“And of course, we both look good. Any other questions before we film this?”

“Actually, yes. Has that plane been sterilized since the last time Beau and Belle were on it? I heard they tried to christen every surface.”

He laughed. “It's been thoroughly scrubbed. You ready to do this?”

“Now's as good a time as any.”

He motioned to a young guy standing over to the side clutching a small video camera. “Katrina, this is my assistant, Shawn. Shawn, Katrina Montgomery.”

Shawn almost tripped over his feet hustling forward. “Ms. Montgomery, I'm delighted to meet you. Pictures don't do you justice.” He looked to be in his early twenties and was dressed in a pink polo shirt and khaki pants. I stood up as he approached and—just because I could—when he extended his hand to shake I took it, held it, and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“
Enchanté
, Shawn. I hope you're referring to pictures in which I'm clothed?” I teased in a sultry voice.

If it was possible for a dark-skinned black man to blush, Shawn did just that. “Oh. I—well—now.” He shot a panicked, awed look over to Carter.

Carter shook his head and stood up. “Katrina, have mercy on the young'un. We still have a two-hour flight ahead of us.”

“Where are we headed?” I queried.

“Punta Cana.” He named a popular resort town in the Dominican Republic.

“Another beach?”

“Problems, diva?”

“I'm just wondering what the point of taking me off one beach to deposit me on another one would be?” Shawn's head swiveled back and forth as he watched the byplay between us.

“I'm borrowing a house there. No one will know how to find you. Maybe I need a few days off. You can scout locations for the summer catalog. The Dominican Republic is lovely this time of year. Need any other reasons?”

I sighed. “Fine.”

“So glad you approve.”

I dug into my purse, pulled out a small makeup kit, and touched up my lipstick, added some drama to my eyes, and brushed a sparkly bronzer across my cheeks and forehead. I bent over and ran a brush through my hair before flinging it back and teasing it on the ends. “I'm ready for my close-up.”

Shawn's jaw dropped as he took in the results of my quick makeover. “Wow.”

“Close your mouth, Shawn, and pick up the camera.”

“She's like a goddess or something,” Shawn stammered as he fumbled to get the camera operational.

“Or something.” Carter shot me a look. “See what you've done? You've fried Shawn.” He reached over, patted Shawn on the shoulder, and took the camera. “You wanna practice or just go on three?”

“We'll go on three.”

He held up the camera, aimed it, fiddled with the setting, and then motioned
one, two, three
with his other hand.

I took a deep breath, exhaled, and flashed my runway smile. “Hi everybody, it's Katrina Montgomery here. You've been reading and watching a lot of things about me recently. I wish I could say that everything Kevin Delancey said wasn't true. But, unfortunately, I did make the disastrous error of sleeping with him twice, indoors, with the lights out. It lasted about fifteen minutes. It wasn't noteworthy. And it certainly wasn't worth trading any favors or risking my reputation over. In fact, sometime after the first three minutes of the awkward episode, I would have paid
him
to cease, desist, and leave. Imagine my surprise to see a fabricated video that in no way resembles the truth. Just to be clear, I have never and would never offer my body as payment for anything. I'm a designer, a businesswoman, and a model—not a hooker. Or at the prices he's quoting, that would be more like a call girl or escort? Pardon me if my terminology is off. I'm not as acquainted with the seamy side of life as Kevin appears to be. The only errors in judgment I'm guilty of involve an unfortunate obsession with neon lace leggings in my early twenties and having the audacity to break up with a mega-maniacal multimillionaire who has never heard the word
no
or thumbed through
Sex for Dummies
. Really, Kevin, just a passing acquaintanceship with female anatomy? Would do you a world of good, sir. An entire world.”

Carter cleared his throat.

I got back on track. “But that's neither here nor there. In the meantime, it seems that I'm a little too popular for my own good right now, so I'm going off the grid for a while. A family friend is whisking me away. Love and appreciation to those of you who have supported me and continue to see me for who I truly am.” I raised my hand in the peace gesture. “Team Kat!” I winked.

“That's a wrap,” Carter said before handing the camera to Shawn. “Upload it and send it to Beau before we take off, will you?” Shawn nodded and ran off. Carter swept me up in his arms and swung me around. “You rocked it.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and giggled. “I kinda did, didn't I?”

“Oh, yeah. Neon lace leggings? Cease, desist, and leave?
Sex for Dummies
? Instant classics.” He set me back on my feet and I stood loosely in his embrace.

I snickered. “That was the nice version. The first draft in my head had a line about him being a two-inch, two-minute, two-faced bastard.”

Carter winced. “Harsh.”

“But true.”

“I'm curious. What did you see in the dude?”

“I was trying to date a grown-up. And he masqueraded as one for a little while.”

“You need to upgrade your taste in men, girlie.”

“Got anyone specific in mind?” I peered up at him through my lashes.

“Only one possible candidate.” He yanked me back up against him and kissed me with precision, purpose, and power. I immediately caught fire and my head started spinning, thoughts scattering like grains of sand swept out to sea. His lips moved against mine as if he had been kissing me for years. He knew exactly where to slide his tongue, where to nibble, where to soothe. My hands gripped the back of his neck and I was tempted to climb him like a tree and cling for dear life. His hands grazed my rear before he broke off the kiss. “That's addictive,” he muttered in a gravelly voice that indicated he was no less affected than I was.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Yeah.”

“I mean . . . whoa.” I licked my lips and tried to get my bearings.

He ran a finger along my jaw and dropped a quick kiss on my lips. “Let's go, diva, we're due a conversation.”

“Naked conversation?” I asked hopefully.

He smirked. “We talk with clothes on first and then we see what comes next.”

I blinked at him in amazement. As much heat as we just generated and he wanted to spend time talking? Like, actually talking? “You're not planning on getting me naked soon?”

Shawn had walked back in on the last half of that sentence and stopped dead in his tracks. “Uh, do you want me to come back later?”

Carter shot me another look and waved him forward. “Video transmit okay?”

“Yes, we got confirmation that Mr. Montgomery received it. He said it will be up shortly, safe travels, and not to forget what he said about your bones. I'll see you back in Dallas in a few days. Great to meet you, Ms. Montgomery.”

I smiled and waved at Shawn before I raised a brow in Carter's direction, “Your bones?”

“Yeah, Beau threatened to break them if I break your heart,” he announced casually as he glanced at his watch.

“My heart? You talked to my brother about my heart?”

“Problems, diva?”

“One, I'm about tired of you calling me a diva. Two, you talked to my brother about being with me?”

“Three, I'm not getting you naked fast enough?” he added with a knowing smirk.

I didn't know whether to slap him, kiss him, or storm off. I contemplated the wisdom of doing all three. I was a little insulted that he didn't seem eager to consummate what we started. Most men wanted to get to that part right away. One of the reasons I had been semi-impressed with Kevin was that he seemed (in the beginning, at least) willing to wait for the naked part. Now I found myself frustrated that Carter was applying the brakes.

He reached out, picked up my purse, and handed it to me. He took my other hand in his and started walking toward the tarmac. “I'm a different kind of guy. One, you
are
a diva. It's fine, I'm cool with it. Part of your charm. Two, I talked to your brother about dating you and your heart came into the conversation. He's cool with us exploring whatever there is between us. Provided no heartbreak occurs. Three, part of this exploration involves getting to know each other. With and without clothes on. You didn't even know my middle name thirty minutes ago.”

“I don't need to know your middle name to sleep with you. I've known you for over ten years. Do we really need all the foreplay and seduction after all this time?”

He pointed toward himself. “I'm Carter. Not the other guys you've had falling at your feet. I'll respect your brain, worship your body, cherish your company, enjoy your conversation, indulge some of your whims, and honor your wishes as much I can. Okay? I know you, Kat. I got you. But I'll do these things on my terms. Not yours. Are we clear?”

I drew to a stop at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the plane. My eyes locked with his. It was a battle of wills that he clearly intended to win. I was not this girl. The girl who lets men—this man—tell them what to do. The girl who lets a man take her by the hand and lead her along. I was strong, independent, and self-sufficient. I was a Montgomery. We stood up. We pushed back. We made ourselves heard. We made up our own minds, forged our own paths, and damned anyone who didn't like it.

But seriously, what's a girl supposed to say to those words that rolled off his tongue, those words that came effortlessly out of his mouth in that sexy baritone? This man flew to my rescue just because my brother asked him to. Maybe because he wanted to be there for me. I didn't know, but either way he got in a jet and came for me. For me. This man who had intrigued me for years. When this man who also made me weak from one kiss took me by the hand and told me he's got me, what's left for me to say? “We're clear.”