“It’s all about fucking with you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s been four frustrating days, and I’m so goddamned hard all the time, I could cut rocks with my cock.” He glared at her, as if it were her fault.
In a way, she supposed it was, but her mistress duties had been derailed by the arrival of his parents and her sisters—and of course his own ass-clown behavior.
Mags had been so far off base last night it was laughable. Trevor didn’t love her. He wanted her. He even wanted her forgiveness—at least he seemed sincere about that—but it wasn’t love.
“So, what do you want to do, English, throw down on the breakfast table?” she asked.
He leaned toward her. “God, yes.” Trevor gave her a look of such longing, such heat, she felt seared by it. He picked up her hand and brushed his lips across her palm.
Maybe she could lock the door. A quickie would take what, ten minutes tops? No, what was she thinking? His parents were in the house, and her sisters. And she was still mad at him. But when Trevor touched her like this, every rational thought fell out of her head.
Then Mags and Nigel walked into the room. Trevor dropped her hand like it was poison. “Oh, you two again.”
Mags, swathed in the green caftan she’d worn the night before, lowered herself into a chair. “I’ve been rethinking the wedding.”
Nigel, dressed in a paisley robe, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to Mags. “Do you know what sounds good this morning? A round of golf. Eh, Trev? Let’s hit a few.”
“The whole thing is all wrong.” Mags pressed her hand over her heart and her large diamond engagement ring winked in the light. “I simply can’t do it.”
“I knew it wouldn’t last. When are you leaving then?” Trevor asked.
Mags raised her brows. “What are you talking about, darling?”
“The wedding.” A little smile played on his lips. “I knew you wouldn’t go through with it.”
She laughed. “Who said we’re not going through with it?”
“You did, just now. Not two seconds ago.”
“I bought new clubs. Let’s give them a go,” Nigel said. “Haven’t got much play in lately.”
Mags touched Nigel’s sleeve. “Darling, I’m parched.”
“I’m terribly sorry, my love. Would you like juice or coffee?”
“Both, of course.”
“Goddamn it, Mother,” Trevor exploded. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t yell at your mother, Trev. It’s bad form.” Nigel rose, and as he did, his robe parted, giving Allie a full view of little Nigel. Which wasn’t so little. And it appeared as though he manscaped. Everything.
She tried to hold it in but couldn’t. Erupting with laughter, she slapped a hand over her lips. Shaking, tears ran down her face.
Trevor turned his angry gaze on her. “What the hell has got into you?”
“Your father just flashed me,” Allie said, trying to catch her breath.
Nigel smiled. “Whoops.” He returned from the sideboard and placed a glass of juice and a cup of coffee in front of Mags. “Sorry that you saw my dangly bits, Allie. Sometimes the boys need fresh air.”
She tried to stop but wound up laughing harder. His parents were bananas.
Trevor clenched his jaw. “You”—he pointed at his father—“there are children in the house, you perv. Wear some fucking clothes to the table.” He pointed at Mags. “And you. You said you were rethinking the wedding.”
“What? Oh.” Her brow cleared. “Red’s not the right color. And now we’ll have to change the flowers. And of course the cake I picked will never do.” She sighed and sipped her juice.
With jerky movements, Trevor stood. “You two are leaving today. Do you hear me? I’ve had enough.” He marched to the door and threw it open.
“We’re not golfing then?” Nigel called after him.
***
Trevor strode to his office. They were a pair of nutters, his parents. After all these years, he still didn’t know why he let them burrow under his skin. But when his father flashed Allie, Trevor couldn’t keep his anger in check. For God’s sake, the man had not an ounce of shame.
A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. Allie poked her head inside. “I’m going to run home and talk to my dad.”
“Fine.”
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I assume you’re referring to the two barking mad people who made me?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, them.”
“What the hell is the point of getting married? They’ve had ten weddings between them. Why go through it again?”
Allie walked to his side of the desk and perched on the corner. “Marriage obviously means something to them.”
He rubbed his chin and made a disgusted snorting sound—one that was very unbecoming. He vowed never to make that sound again. “It’s just another excuse for my mother to plan a party.”
“I’ll bet every time they take those vows, they have the best of intentions.”
Trevor laughed. “Did you hear yourself just now? Vows, as in promises.” He waved his hand. “Their intentions are bloody pointless.”
She toyed with the hem of her pink dress. “Would vows mean something to you? I mean, if you made a promise to someone, would it be important for you to keep it?”
He looked up at her and noticed for the first time that she was sitting on his desk, her bare legs within reach. He wrapped a hand around her knee. “I don’t want to talk about parents. Or marriage. Or promises.” He slid his hand down her soft calf.
“Of course you don’t.” She gently pulled her leg from his grasp and stood, smoothing her skirt over her hips. “Trevor?”
He wanted her, here on the desk, and to hell with whoever came barging through the door. “Hmm?”
“It’s none of my business, but how long are you going to let Monica stay?”
More complications—his parents, her sisters. He had a feeling there would be no desk sex in his immediate future. “Of course it’s your business. She’s your sister. And I really hadn’t given it any thought. By the way, I bought the house Brad’s been living in.”
Allie stilled. “When?”
“I had my attorney, Alex, make an offer late last night. The landlord was thrilled to wash his hands of it. There are five people living in a two-bedroom house, and they’ve made quite a mess of it. But, I figured at least this way, I could ensure that Monica has a place to live.”
She looked at him, her brow furrowed. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I can.” She seemed surprised, and he didn’t understand why. She already had too many worries, and if this eased her mind, why wouldn’t he?
***
Allie left the office and walked out the front door and around to the garage. Of course he could afford to buy a house. It meant nothing. He did it for you. That little voice that kept giving Trevor a pass when he acted like a jerk, or gave him more credit than he deserved when he did something nice, was getting louder. More annoying and difficult to ignore too.
But this gesture wasn’t personal. Like he said, he did these things because he could, not because he wanted to make her life easier or better. Or to please her. It was his nature to take charge. He was bossy like that.
She walked into the garage and found Simmons polishing a car.
Her feet practically skidded to a halt. “Is that…” She pointed to the shiny Festiva. It looked just like her car but without all the dings and dents. And it was bright, cherry red, not the faded orangey-red she remembered.
Simmons smiled. “Yes, Miss Allison, it’s yours. Mr. Blake had it fixed, painted, and detailed.” He walked around to the front and patted on the hood. “There’s a brand-new engine, new transmission, new brakes and tires. It’s practically a whole new car.”
“This is my car?”
Simmons chuckled. “One and the same.” He snatched the keys off the wall and handed them to her. “Here you go. Take her for a spin.”