Prima Donna (5 page)

“Sweet? Who cuts it?” Regan’s question was drowned out by Nick’s voice as he wrapped his arms around Jayne and grinned.

“Is it midnight yet?” He leaned down and nuzzled her neck until her cheeks flamed and she gave a halfhearted attempt to squirm away but only succeeded in bumping into Carter.

“Get a room,” he grunted, pushing them away.

“Got one,” Nick grinned, his hazel eyes twinkling. “But Jayne won’t let me get her naked until you guys leave, so anytime you’re ready to go…”

“Nick!” Jayne cried, but he just laughed, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and ushered her back into the living room.

“Is it just Leon?” Katie asked, her brow puckered slightly. “Or is it the general idea of marriage that freaks you out?”

“It doesn’t freak me out,” Regan said. “It’s just not something I want.”

“But how can you say that if you’ve never experienced it?” Katie lifted a cheese-filled chip and fed it to Ben like he was a two-year-old.

“Well, I’ve never experienced smallpox, either, but that doesn’t mean I want to run out and infect myself.”

Carter chuckled, but Katie ignored him.

“I’m serious,” she said. “You probably just haven’t met the right person, that’s all. One day you’re going to meet The Guy; the one you can’t stop thinking about, the one who puts up with you when you’re in full-on bitch mode, and who thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world, even first thing in the morning.”

She tucked her hand under Ben’s and smiled when he kissed her temple. “Look at Nick and Jayne—they’ve seen each other through some really ugly times and they couldn’t be happier.”

“Hardly a fair assessment,” Regan teased. “Life, in general, tends to work out for the almighty Scotts of this town, but for the rest of us who are mere mortals…”

Katie grinned back at her, but Ben’s scowl only deepened. One day that man was going to have to grow himself a sense of humor. Regan picked at the label on her bottle, took a second to breathe, then shrugged.

“Look, I’m sure when you decide to fall in love, it’s all unicorns and candy hearts, and everyone’s happy to promise the moon and stars. But things change,
people
change, and you can’t expect anyone to—”

“Whoa.” Katie straightened up so fast, she knocked her head into Ben’s chin. “You don’t
decide
to fall in love, Regan, it just happens, and sure, things change, but you adapt, work through it. It’s not always easy, but once you open yourself up to it, there’s nothing better. Your turn’s coming, just you wait.”

Regan’s snort was loud and harsh. She’d just as soon let her turn pass, thank you very much, and there was no way she was going to wait for anything ever again. She’d done enough of that growing up. Every month, she’d waited for those two days after payday when there was finally food in the house before the rest of the money went to paying down the tab at O’Malley’s. Every night, she waited for her mom to stop crying so they could both go to sleep. And every day for the last seventeen years, she waited for her dad to come back.

“Thanks all the same,” she said, shaking the memories away. “But I think I’ll just stick with the way things are. I don’t expect anyone to put up with me when I’m in full-on bitch mode, and I have no interest in putting up with them when they are.”

With a little effort, she tried to smile at Katie, but there was no denying it was a pathetic attempt.

“Besides,” she joked, circling her face with a wave of her hand. “No one except me sees this first thing in the morning, because if anyone found out how much work it takes…”

She didn’t hear exactly what Ben muttered, but it must have been bad to have Katie elbow him again.

“What?” he grunted. “She’s like some kind of…I don’t know…like a prima donna or something! She won’t go out with a guy because he drives a Volvo, or wears khakis, or…I can’t even remember what was wrong with the last guy she went out with. She’s got more issues than
National Geographic,
that one.”

“Ben!”

Regan stopped the rest of Katie’s mortified cry with a lift of her hand. Keeping her voice low, so not to cause a scene at Jayne’s party, she leaned over the table a little and stared Ben in the eye.

“You don’t know anything about me or my
issues,
Ben, and last I heard, you were still an insurance salesman, not a psychologist, so why don’t you do us both a favor and keep your Dr. Phil–wannabe bullshit theories to yourself?”

Carter would have sprayed beer all over the table if Regan hadn’t shoved a stack of napkins at him. Katie squeezed her mouth shut, grabbed her husband by the sleeve, hauled him off his chair, and shoved him toward the living room.

Silence fell over the room as Carter mopped up the rest of his beer, his eyes fixed on Regan, his mouth curved into one of his slow smiles.

“For the record,” he said, holding his hand up, “he and I are only related through marriage so it doesn’t really count.”

Regan leaned back in her chair and huffed out a long breath. “What the hell does she see in him?”

“Aw, Ben’s okay. Just a little intense.” He set his bottle down, then leaned on his elbows. “So…a chick who’s not into the whole picket-fence and minivan scene. That’s different.”

“I’m not a chick.”

“Right. And where do you stand on running off to join the Church?”

“Not Catholic, either.”

“Excellent.” His eyes warmed, teasing her. “Then we’ll have no problem just using each other for sex.”

“Ohmygod.” Half snort, half laugh, Ben forgotten, she twisted left, then right, making sure no one else had heard him. “What is wrong with you?”

“Hey,” he said. “I’m not saying we should get down to business right here on Nick’s kitchen table, but—” He was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket. Reluctantly he glanced down at the display and sighed. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

He hustled out of the room and down the hall, the phone pressed against one ear, his free hand pressed against the other. “Dr. Scott here.”

Just as well; Regan needed to get going anyway. She slid off her chair, set her plate and empty bottle by the sink, and turned to go just as Jayne came barreling toward the kitchen.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” It wasn’t even a lie. Despite Ben, and despite her mood when she’d first arrived, the party hadn’t been half as horrid as she expected it to be, and that was mostly thanks to Carter. “Thanks for inviting me, but, uh, I’m gonna go.”

“You can’t—” Jayne stopped in mid-argument, which wasn’t like her at all. “I’m sorry about Ben. He’s…well, he’s Ben.”

“I’m not leaving because of him. I just have to go.”

“We’re lucky she stayed his long.” Maya walked up behind Jayne, dismissing the whole conversation with an odd, gentle smile and a wave of her hand. “She’s usually on the couch with New Year’s Rockin’ Eve blaring from the TV by now. She’s weird.”

“I’m not weird,” Regan chuckled, shrugged. “I just…whatever. Maybe I’m a little weird.”

“Okay.” Jayne’s mouth twisted, her eyes narrowed. “I’ll get Nick to walk you home.”

“It’s five blocks, Jayne, I’ll be fine.” From the corner of her eye, she caught Nick pushing to his feet, but with one pointed look from her, he grinned and sat back down. She flicked a quick glance at the bachelors, offering them each a quick nod. “Nice to meet you both. Happy New Year, everyone.”

A spattering of Happy New Years followed her and Jayne to the door.

“Sorry about Leon,” Jayne whispered. “I guess he wasn’t the best choice for you.”

“Ya think?” Regan teased. “I appreciate the effort, really, but I’m not looking for a Leon, or an anyone, for that matter.”

“I know, but—” Jayne stopped, sighed.
“Fine.”

“Thank you. Talk to you tomorrow?” With a quick parting hug, Regan walked out the door and headed into the night.

She’d done a good job of holding it together at Jayne’s, but now she could breathe normally again. She could stop pretending she was fine, that it wasn’t a big deal her salon was closed, and that going home was just one of her quirks. No matter how well-meaning her friends were, none of them needed to know she was, in fact,
not
fine, or that losing her salon was like losing a huge part of herself. And they sure as hell didn’t need to know the real reason she always spent New Year’s Eve at home.

The clouds from earlier in the day lingered, making the dark seem gloomy, almost spooky, and though the wind wasn’t sharp, it gusted in great heaves, pushing her forward at first, then shoving her back a second later.

Within five minutes, she was walking past the giant Nativity scene lit up in front of her apartment building. Mr. Brandt insisted it was sacrilege to take Christmas down before the first of the year, and with the amount of work that went into setting the scene up, Regan was surprised he didn’t just leave it up all year.

In her favorite red flannel nightshirt she washed up, clipped her hair back, and headed to the couch to watch the countdown, her phone clutched in her hand. Last New Year’s Eve, she had her own business, a steady income, and a guy she saw on a semi-regular basis. One short year later, she had no business, no income, and no guy. The business and income she missed. The guy—not so much.

Hugging one of the throw cushions against her stomach, she hit Speed Dial 2 on her phone and waited for one of the nurses to pick up.

“Hi, Lynn, it’s Regan Burke…Fine, thanks. How’s Mom?” She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until it came out in a rush. “You’re sure?…Okay…
She does?
But she never wants to talk to me…Well, yes, of course, if you think she’s up for it…Right. I just don’t want to upset her…If you’re sure…Yeah, I’ll hold.”

Her mom rarely wanted to talk to her, so why tonight? Did it mean something? It
was
New Year’s Eve after all. Maybe it was a good thing; a breakthrough. Or maybe—

Muffled voices on the other end, a hard clank, then her mother’s voice barking out Regan’s name.

“Hi, Mom—how are you doing?” Regan pressed the phone tight against her ear as if that might help her pick up on the slightest waver in her mom’s voice. Nothing. “Yeah? I was up at a New Year’s party…no, by myself…he wasn’t there…because we broke up last summer…No, I didn’t cheat on him. Mom…Mom…I swear I didn’t do anything to him, we just didn’t belong together…It wasn’t anyone’s fault…Mom…Mom…okay, I’m sorry, you’re right.
You’re right
. It was my fault.”

Regan would have agreed to anything if it calmed her mom down a little.

“Tina said they were serving ham tonight…No she’s not, she wouldn’t do that…Tina likes you, Mom, she’d never try to hurt you…yes, I talk to her every couple of days—that’s because you don’t usually want to talk to me.”

She let her head fall against the back of the couch and squeezed her eyes tight. “I’m sure if Dad called, she would let you know; she wouldn’t keep him from you…no, he hasn’t called me…I didn’t do that, Mom…no I didn’t—”

On the other end of the phone, her mom berated someone walking by her chair. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough time for Regan to steer the conversation toward something a little less inciting than the topic of her father.

“Have you been getting outside much? The weather’s been so nice…Uh, no, Mom, I don’t think they’ll agree to that…of course I want to see you, but…no, you’re right, we’ll ask.”

Again, she waited for the slightest hint from her mom that tonight was going to end the same way it had on four other New Year’s Eves, but so far, there was nothing out of the ordinary, and this was the longest conversation she’d had with her mom in years.

From the sounds coming through the phone, someone in the TV room must have taken the chair her mom wanted, which meant Regan had only a few seconds before her mom would hang up.

“I love you, Mom…No…I never expect you to say it back. I tell you so you know…okay, sorry…Happy New—”

The line went dead and she let the phone drop to the couch beside her as she heaved out another breath. It hadn’t gone too badly, and it didn’t seem like her mom was on the edge of doing herself any harm, so it was probably safe to ring in the New Year now.

The countdown party was in full swing on the TV; a bare-chested rapper stomped his way across the stage while thousands of screaming partiers danced around him, everyone decked out in toques, mitts, feather boas, and huge sparkly plastic glasses Elton John would envy.

Less than a minute left on the clock.

She couldn’t honestly say she was surprised when the knock sounded on her door. She didn’t expect it, hadn’t hoped for it, and yet she didn’t have to look through the peephole or ask who was there.

She already knew.

She also knew she’d let him in because if there was one thing she wanted right then, it was a good long distraction.

“It’s not my fault!”

Han Solo,
The Empire Strikes Back

Regan stood in the open doorway as the TV counted down the final seconds of the old year. Carter didn’t say a word; he didn’t even move until the party horns blared, the fireworks blasted, and Regan took a step back. With his dark eyes fixed on hers and a slow grin pulling at his lips, he moved toward her, filling her space, crowding her until she backed into the wall.

God, he smelled good.

“How come you left?” he asked, his voice low.

“Reason number three.” She clutched the pillow against her stomach, wrapping her arms around it so tight she could feel her own ribs beneath. “I always do New Year’s at home.”

“Right. I forgot there was a reason number three.” He pressed his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head, his long, leisurely gaze taking in every inch of her face, her hair, her neck, before it gradually settled on her lips. “But we’re both here now, so can we cross that one off the list?”

“I, uh, I suppose.”

He hadn’t even touched her and still she shivered. Oh, who was she kidding—that wasn’t just a shiver, it was a full-body shake that took hold of her lazy-ass libido and Tasered it to attention.

Ho. Lee. Crap.

“And if I’m remembering this right, reason number one had something to do with a polo-shirt-wearing jock who was on the hunt for a wife. Can I cross that one off the list, too?”

“Definitely.” A couple hard blinks later, Regan mirrored his cocky little grin.

“So that just leaves reason number two.” His mouth twitched slightly, his eyes crinkled at the edges. “Something about locking body parts…”

“No body parts,” she corrected slowly. “You said lips o—”

Carter caught her bottom lip between his, waited until her words faded to nothing, then kissed her; soft, gentle, and oh-so-freakin’ slow. He kept his hands flat against the wall, his body close—very close—but never touching. Warmth built to a heated flicker, and then to full-on ignition that rocked Regan off balance. She curled her toes against the floor and fisted her hands deeper into the cushion, but it didn’t help, and when Carter finally slanted his mouth over hers, strong, hard, taking the kiss deeper, it was all she could do not to slide down the wall into a puddle.

She tried to catch the sigh before it vibrated out of her throat, but her traitorous body wouldn’t respond; not to her, anyway. It had
no
trouble responding to him, to the warmth of his hands, so close to her neck, and to the promise of what he would do if only he’d touch her.

What the hell was he waiting for? Didn’t he…oh, right. He wasn’t going to touch her, just kiss her, except there was nothing “just” about this kiss, especially when he slid his tongue slowly across her bottom lip like that, teasing and tormenting her with a taste of—

Wait. What? Was he pulling away? Oh, no no no.

Regan dropped the cushion and arched off the wall, leaving her without any support, teetering on wobbly legs, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t done yet. Carter backed up, his hands raised in the air, keeping a whisper of space between them, but he didn’t stop kissing her.

Every stroke, every breath, made it more and more difficult to keep her balance, especially when he smiled against her lips, daring her to take control. But Regan wasn’t in control; she knew it before she wrapped both hands around the thin strip of leather around his neck and leaned deeper into his kiss, and she knew it long before she fell back against the wall, dragging him with her.

His fingers scraped the paint as he curled his hands into tight fists against the wall, but still he didn’t touch her. He skimmed his teeth against her bottom lip, nipping it gently and tugging it between his own for one last lingering moment before he eased back, leaving her dazed, her pulse hammering through her veins and her breath coming in short, fast gasps.

So many thoughts raced through her brain it was impossible to focus on just one. If that’s how he kissed…no! But she deserved a distraction, that’s what Maya said. He’s Jayne’s cousin. No, he’s Jayne’s cousin-in-law, that’s different. Sort of.

As fast as the rational side of her brain rattled off its list, the oft-ignored girlie side clamored for attention. Why shouldn’t she do this? She’d just closed her business, she had no job prospects, no impending thumbs-up from the bank, and talking to her mother only reinforced what Rational Regan already knew: loving someone was no guarantee they would ever love you back.

Regan didn’t need anyone to love her, she just needed a little pick-me-up, a little
distraction
, and if anyone deserved that, Girlie Regan argued, it was her. And if that distraction happened to present itself at her front door in a leather jacket, looking and smelling better than any man had a right to, who was she to argue?

Had a guy ever whispered her name against her neck like that, so soft, so deep, so…oh, screw it. What’s the worst that could happen? With her fingers still hooked around the leather strip, Regan swallowed hard.

“Close the door before we scare Mrs. McLaren across the hall.”

A slow smile spread over Carter’s face as he reached his foot back and kicked the door shut.

She inhaled slowly and forced herself to stop staring at his mouth. “I have one rule.”

“Only one?” He pinched open her hair clip, tossed it over his shoulder, and filled both hands with her hair as he leaned in to kiss her again.

Damn, he was making it
really
hard for Rational Regan to think straight. Another smile, another kiss, this one against her jaw as he chuckled low in his throat.

“What’s your rule?”

“I…uh…oh…”

He pressed a soft kiss just below her ear, then moved lower to where her neck curved into her shoulder, pulling another full-body shudder out of her.

“Damn, you smell good.” His low, ragged breath had Regan moving, tripping, bumping into furniture and walls as she dragged him backward through the apartment, one hand fisted around his shirt, the other fumbling to shove his jacket over his shoulders and down his arms.

As they crashed against the bedroom door, Regan’s sensible side tried desperately to run blocker, but her girlie side, finally set free, wasn’t about to give up an inch of ground. Not now when Carter had her pulled her up tight against his chest, and definitely not when he looked down at her with those oh-so-dark eyes and that sexy little half grin that promised this would be a New Year’s to remember.

Girlie Regan looked up from where it had Rational Regan pinned in a half nelson and cheered, but not before Rational Regan choked out her final breath.

“You can’t sleep over.”

Carter’s slow, rumbling chuckle was muffled slightly as she jerked his shirt up over his head. “I don’t know what you think is gonna happen here, sweetheart, but you can bet your ass sleep’s not going to be part of it.”

Free from his shirt, he reached for her, paused, and frowned. “What
the hell
are you wearing?”

“It’s my nightshirt,” she laughed, looking down at her calf-length red flannel nightshirt. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” he snorted. “If you were an eighty-year-old man. It’s gotta go, Red.”

And just like that, he whipped the shirt up over her head, leaving her standing in nothing but her underwear. Regan knew she was no supermodel, but the way he stared at her, his dark eyes widening, his mouth tipped up in the barest of smiles, and his breath coming out in a low whistle, she may as well have been.

If he did nothing else right for the rest of the night, he’d get full marks for that.

She gave him a second to make a move, and when he just kept standing there, not even blinking, she pressed her hands flat on his chest—his broad, solid, smooth chest—and pushed him gently until he stumbled back, caught his knees on the edge of the bed, and sat, pulling her down with him.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, not gently, not softly, but with the same urgency she felt building up inside; an urgency that made her want to touch him everywhere at the same time and to have him touch her the same way.

“Carter,” she muttered against his mouth. “You’ve got about five seconds to get out of those jeans or—”

He was out of them in three and then scrambled to get them back so he could pull a condom out of the back pocket.

“Always prepared, huh?”

“Hey,” he chuckled, fumbling with the package like it was his first time. “I’m like a regular Boy Sc—ah,
shit
!”

“What?” Good grief, was that her voice so full of frustration?

“I—” He held up the condom for her to see. Both pieces of it. “Ripped it.”

One look at his face and Regan started to laugh, quietly at first, then harder, until Carter laughed, too.

“In the drawer.” She stretched over to the bedside table, but Carter beat her to it, jerked the drawer open, and fumbled around until he pulled out another one.

“Can you manage this one?” she teased. “Or do you need my help?”

His mouth curled but he didn’t answer as he worked the next one carefully out of its package. By that time, Regan was done waiting. Hands around his neck she pulled him down for another kiss, another touch, another smile against his lips as he finally cheered his own success.

She didn’t need him to go slow, but she wasn’t going to argue with him if he wanted to take his time kissing her like that, deep, long, and oh, so thoroughly. She didn’t need soft caresses, but if he wanted to slide his hands over her hips like that, or up over her breasts like…ohhhh boy…yeah…like that…she wouldn’t…oh
wow
.

She shifted under him, wanting more of him against more of her, and without a word spoken, Carter pressed his body against hers, belly to ankle, holding most of his own weight up on his arms. She slipped her hands around his back, walking her fingers down his spine, loving the way his moan started quietly and grew louder the lower she moved.

By the time she slid her hands over his butt, he’d buried his face into the side of her neck.

“Regan,” he breathed. “I—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish, just arched up and took him in, deep and hard. There was a moment, a heartbeat, where they both hesitated, and then he was kissing her again, lingering over her bottom lip and down the side of her neck to that same spot…right there near her shoulder…that made her whole body tremble.

Moving together, Carter kissed her again, slow and deep, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, then easing her back, dragging a harsh frustrated groan from her throat.

“Carter.” She tried to hold on, but at the sound of his name Carter smiled against her mouth and drove them straight over the edge together, holding her there until his name was nothing more than a breath against her lips.

He rolled onto his back, pulling her up beside him, and they just lay there for a long time, both trying to catch their breath. After a few minutes, Carter pressed a kiss against the side of her head and chuckled wryly.

“The first time was supposed to be soft and slow,” he muttered. “Guess we sort of ruined that, didn’t we?”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” She grinned, trailing her finger across his abdomen. “The first time is supposed to be hard and fast to release the pressure. After that you can take your sweet time.”

“Is that right?” Carter shifted slightly so he could see her face. “So what you’re saying is…?”

“Is that I hope you ate your Wheaties this morning, champ, ’cause this time I’m going to make you work for it.” She pressed a kiss against his Adam’s apple, then squealed when he flipped her over and hovered above her, grinning wickedly.

“And I hope you’ve got more supplies in that drawer over there.”

“Should be a full box,” she chuckled. “Will that do?”

“It’s a damn fine start, sweetheart.”

The walk back to Nick’s wasn’t nearly cold enough to douse the fire in Carter’s veins. He’d gone over to Regan’s for a New Year’s kiss, hadn’t planned on doing anything else—hell, he wasn’t even going to touch her, but then…

Holy shit.

No chick had ever kissed him like that before, so free, so giving and so…
selfish
. She took as much as she gave, maybe more. And her skin was like…well, hell, he had no idea, because he’d never felt anything that soft before, never had a chick touch him the way she did, her hands moving over him as though they’d touched him a thousand times before and knew exactly where he wanted them to go next. She didn’t try to control him and he soon learned not to try and control her, but instead she drove him crazy with those sexy little sighs, the full throaty laugh when he ripped right through the first condom he tried to open, and the way she breathed his name every time they crashed over the edge together.

Holy shit
.

The first time he’d met her, she’d been with that guy, Todd, and while Carter didn’t have many rules, he never went after another guy’s girl. Not even if she was smokin’ hot like Regan was, not even if she looked bored out of her skull, and not even if the guy was a total dipshit. And there was no question, dipshits didn’t come much bigger than Todd.

Carter hadn’t spoken to her since Nick and Jayne got married, but he’d thought about her a couple times.

Okay, maybe more than a couple. And since he saw her wielding that bat at her salon earlier, she was
all
he’d thought about. Hell, it was all he could do not to kiss her the second she opened the door, or when she stood there jabbing at his feet with the broom, or any one of the times he caught her watching him in the mirror. And then, God help him, at Nick and Jayne’s with her hair down like that, smelling sexier than any chick ever had.

He knew kissing her was going to be something else, but he sure as hell never expected she’d come off that wall the way she did. Carter blew out a long, slow breath and scrunched his eyes closed for a second.

And when she grabbed him and pulled him back with her…

Ho. Lee. Shit.

It was a damn good thing she hadn’t let him kiss her at Jayne’s.