Downhome Darlin' & The Best Man Switch (33 page)

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Authors: Victoria Pade

BOOK: Downhome Darlin' & The Best Man Switch
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He placed her lovingly on the bed and undressed her as carefully as if she were a treasured gift. Each time a new part of her was exposed, he stopped to examine and caress. His searing blue gaze made her feel beautiful, and cherished. And being the recipient of so much loving attention in turn gave her a confidence she'd never had before, so that when it was her turn to respond in kind, she didn't flinch. How could she? Her curiosity, her desire, was too great.
When they finally lay in each other's arms, both as naked as the day they were born, she felt that she had never been so close to another person before. But how could that be? They'd only known each other for such a short time. Maybe he did have some magical bewitching power that made her lose her good sense. Or, more wonderful still, maybe they were just meant to be.
She hoped it was true. She wanted to believe that when they made love, it would be the beginning of forever for both of them. That they would create a full life together, and a home, and children. Could it be? The jungle drums still beating insistently inside certainly felt that way. But what was left of her rational mind piped in with a memory.
I think I love you, Mitzi.
He thought he loved her. As usual, she was pondering forever, and the man was just agonizing over the moment-to-moment.
As last-minute doubts swirled in her mind, her eyes remained riveted on Grant, his eyes, his gorgeous body, his very aroused body. She blushed, the first hint of modesty she'd shown all night, then remembered how desperately she had waited for this moment. How unhappy she'd been when she'd thought, even for a short time, that she and Grant might never get their relationship off the ground. Now it was taking off like a rocket, and she wasn't about to complain.
He pulled her close, kissing her earlobe, and whispered, “Is something wrong?”
Too often in the past, she'd deep-sixed her romances by pushing for a commitment too soon. Not this time, she vowed to herself as she felt desire build from his caresses. This time, she would live in the here and now. If it killed her.
She nestled closer to him. “Everything's perfect.”
And once their passion had played out and they lay together, sated and happy in each other's arms, she knew that she had spoken truly. Everything was perfect.
For now.
 
As GRANT'S BYES swept open, he was overcome with bliss. In his arms lay Mitzi, her hair tousled across the pillow. His fingers itched to comb through all that luxurious hair, but he didn't want to disturb her. Instead, he basked in the memory of all that had taken place last night. He'd never felt so much for anyone before. It was more than infatuation, that was for sure. The woman had turned his life upside down, and at a time when it seemed pretty wobbly already.
With the ink on his divorce papers barely dry, he'd found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The trouble was, she wasn't even going to be in the same city after Saturday, and that was only two full days away. Long-distance romances being what they were, their fledgling relationship seemed destined to go the way of the dodo bird before it was barely off the ground.
As if sensing the tension his gloomy thoughts had spawned, Mitzi turned in his arms and looked up at him. Grant's heart did an elaborate flip in his chest. For a moment he was blinded as he remembered every touch, taste and sound. He swallowed, barely suppressing a groan. He thought his body would have been absolutely sated. Not so.
She smiled contentedly and stretched like some exotic feline after a particularly satisfying catnap. He couldn't stop looking at her. He wanted to make love to her again in the most desperate way.
Mitzi gazed back at him, and her smile slowly faded until dread registered in her eyes. “This is it, isn't it?”
He frowned. “This is what?”
“The end.” Stoically, she sat up, careful to keep the floral sheet modestly over her bosom. “I should have known that after the most fantastic night of my life, I would wake up and discover I've been living in a fool's paradise.”
He was having a hard time following her. “Last night was the most fantastic night of your life? Really?”
Mitzi groaned, collapsed, then flopped the bedsheet over her face. “Oh, how mortifying,” her muffled voice exclaimed. “I thought you were at least enjoying yourself, too.”
Grant shook his head, wondering how two people could make such a muddle of communication. “Are you kidding? It was wonderful!”
But he was talking to a bedsheet. He pried the sheet back down over her head and looked into her eyes. “Would you please come up for air and tell me what's wrong?”
Mitzi hesitated. Grant's confusion sounded genuine—a good sign. Last night she had let her guard down so completely; she'd never been so uninhibited with a man. Or so nervous come the dawn. But maybe for once the ax wasn't going to fall.
She shimmied up to a sitting position and eyed him doubtfully. “You tell me.”
He looked perplexed. “The only thing wrong I can think of is that we're eventually going to have to get out of our love nest to forage for food.”
Her assessing gaze remained pinned on him, until slowly the sincerity in his eyes telegraphed to her heart. “You mean you weren't about to tell me
bon voyage?”
“Where did you get that idea?”
She smiled. Wonder of wonders! “You mean you aren't about to set off on your dream of exploring Antarctica?”
“Not in this lifetime.”
Mitzi looked into those blue eyes of his and felt her fears fade away. “Oh, Grant,” she exclaimed, melting against him. “I don't even want to think about lifetimes, or what might happen tomorrow. For once, I'm going to go with the flow and enjoy myself.”
He looked down at her, confused. Was she still thinking that they were having a fling? “But?”
She covered his lips. This morning, she didn't want to hear any proclamations that might not hold water in another week. “No, Grant, let's take this one day at a time.”
Grant frowned. “That shouldn't be difficult, since we only have two days.” Personally, he was ready for two decades, two lifetimes, two centuries, but he didn't want to overplay his hand. If Mitzi wanted to take it one day at a time, he'd have to go along with her. After all, just five days ago he'd told his brother he wasn't ready to get married again.
There was only one problem. He didn't want her to leave.
“Why don't you stay?” he asked.
“In Austin?” She propped up on one elbow and studied his face. “I can't,” she said regretfully. “I'm due back at the office on Monday.”
Office!
Suddenly his work came rushing back to his love-fogged memory. It wasn't only Mitzi's timetable getting in their way. In an agony of dread, he slapped his palm over his forehead.
Mitzi hovered over him, concerned. “What's the matter?”
“The next two nights are a mess. Tomorrow my stepmother is having a big party for the people who want to buy Whiting's. I have to be there.”
Mitzi smiled. “I've got the perfect party dress, Grant. It's lime-green, and has a few food stains on it, but I'm sure you won't be too embarrassed to be seen with me.”
A party at Mona's wasn't how he wanted to spend his last night with Mitzi, but she did have a point. Grant grinned back at her, and for a moment as he looked into her sunny eyes, a weight fell off his shoulders. How could he worry about a stupid party when he was in bed with the most wonderful, whimsical woman in the world?
“Tell you what,” he said. “Forget the party. We'll tag it, then we'll have one of our own—a party for two catered by yours truly, with thick steaks and champagne.”
Mitzi's mouth watered in anticipation. “Steaks and champagne, and a bubble bath.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Would that be as an appetizer, or dessert?”
“I always wanted to drink champagne in a bubble bath,” she explained.
“But wouldn't a whole dinner get a little messy? I mean, the steak juice running into the bathwater.”
Mitzi laughed. “Okay, forget the bubble bath.”
Grant gazed at her adoringly, and in a moment she could tell that the bubble-bath idea had also taken root in his imagination. “Don't worry, we'll work around it.”
In fact, a long bubble bath with Mitzi might be just the thing to top off this stressful week, Grant thought. Of course, he tried not to dwell on the fact that they were planning their private farewell wingding. He couldn't bear the thought of parting from her just now, when they were suddenly so close and so happy.
Two days. It was so little time. Tonight. Thursday night. He groaned.
“What is it?” Mitzi asked, looking primed for bad news.
He hesitated to bring up his date with Joy Moreland, but decided that honesty was the only policy to use with Mitzi from now on. “The real problem is tonight. Ted promised my stepmother that I would take out Mr. Moreland's daughter. I'd rather have a root canal, but I don't see a way out of it.”
Mitzi nibbled her lower lip in thought. “There must be some way out.”
They both lay flat on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, searching for an answer. So much was hanging in the balance. One night. It didn't sound like much, but when it came to Mitzi, Grant didn't want to sacrifice a single hour.
Mitzi bolted up. “Ted!”
Grant sat up, too, but quickly shook his head, catching her drift. “He wouldn't do it. I don't even feel comfortable asking him to.”
“Why not?”
“He's already picked up so much of the slack.”
There was no hiding Mitzi's disappointment. It shot like a spear through his heart. “But don't you see? Ted is your secret weapon. One date with him and Joy Moreland will pack her father's bags and they'll head back to wherever they came from.”
Grant laughed. “You know, you might be on to something.”
“I speak from experience. After one truck ride with your brother, I was ready to hop on the next plane out of Austin.” She grinned. “And to make sure the plan's a success, I might try to find Joy Moreland ahead of time. Just to make sure she and Ted really hit it off. Maybe I'll suggest a long boat ride, and you could make sure they have an especially wonderful time by performing a little nautical sabotage.”
Grant still hesitated. Even if Mr. Love had botched quite a bit of last night, in the final analysis his efforts were a sizzling success. He didn't want to pay Ted back by forcing him into doing another switch.
He felt Mitzi's hand on his thigh, and when he looked into her green eyes he didn't miss the sensual intent in them. Her hand began to work a slow path toward the part of him that was already burning with hunger for her. He swallowed.
A slow grin touched her lips. “It would just be this one last time,” she whispered in a voice that was practically a coo.
When Mitzi's fingertips finally reached their ultimate destination, Grant closed his eyes and felt all thought of resistance fly from his mind.
Mitzi could be quite persuasive.
 
HAUTE HAIR, one of the more fashionable salons among the Generation X set, was in full swing that afternoon. Every station was filled. Mitzi was lucky enough to maneuver herself into a chair next to Joy, whose whereabouts she had found out after a fib-filled call to the Morelands' hotel suite. Joy was a pretty, chipmunk-cheeked young woman still on the beer-and-peanuts side of twenty-five. Her perfectly sculpted body was tanned and fit without looking overly muscled up. And those cheeks of hers gave her the aura of being a soft little cuddlebug. A Sandra Dee for the nineties.
And, God bless her, she was a chatterbox, and luckily for Mitzi, the one topic she absolutely couldn't shut up about was Grant Whiting.
“His stepmother says he's just a doll,” the young woman jabbered to her stylist, a green-haired woman in her thirties who looked bored by what Joy was saying. “And so sad—his wife just left him flat. Can you imagine? I know that if I ever get married, I'll never get a divorce. My parents were divorced, and I've always sworn that I'll never go through that. Or put my children through that. Once I get married, that's it, so it's got to be love. Love, and financial solvency. I don't know if I could give up my Bergdorf charge account!”
Beneath her silver plastic salon poncho, Joy's shoulders squared with determination at the thought of finding Mr. Right for the high-end shopper. Mitzi felt for her—little did Joy Moreland know that she was aiming at the wrong target.
“Of course, Daddy doesn't want me to get married right away,” Joy said. “He's one of those strict old-fashioned dads. Still and all, I sometimes think it would be just so great to bust out on my own and get married. I majored in psychology in college, so I know it's really important for a young woman to establish her independence from her parents. Especially if a good-looking rich guy who can take care of her comes along.”

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