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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

BOOK: Going Overboard
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She abandoned her task, leaving his coat dangling from one arm, and came around to stand in front of him, hands on hips. “Look, you’re not on anything, are you?”

He took his coat the rest of the way off and tossed it
on the hall table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t. Let’s take a look.” In another totally unexpected move, she put both hands on his shoulders and pulled him forward to peer into his eyes.

He caught his breath, too entranced by this close-up view to protest. Looking into those hazel eyes of hers, he could think of nothing but what it would be like to kiss her. He couldn’t understand it. He’d been sane before she opened the door, but now he wouldn’t testify to having any brain cells working.

“Your pupils don’t look dilated, but I swear, if you’ve come here doped up, I’ll report you.”

He gazed down at her and detected a flicker of sensual awareness in her eyes. “Who’re you going to tell?” he asked softly.

She released him just as quickly as she’d grabbed him and pushed him toward the living room. “Never mind who I’ll tell. Just get in there.”

He stood his ground. No matter how sexy she was, he wouldn’t be ordered around. “I’ll need my briefcase.”

“I told you that I’d take care of that part.”

“I don’t think so.” He made a grab for the briefcase, but she jerked it out of reach.

“I’ll do it! Will you
please
get into that room and start stripping before those women sober up?”

He stared at her, unable to process the whole sentence at once. First he had to digest the part about her wanting him to strip in front of a group of women including his mother. He had just about worked his way around that and was heading for the
sober up
part, when the doorbell rang.

She grimaced. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Wait a second. I don’t want you starting without me.”

“Not on your life.”

She strode back to the door and jerked it open.

A guy in a police uniform stood there, grinning at her. “Somebody called about a loud party up here.”

“Sorry, Officer, we’ll keep it down,” Andi said, and started to close the door.

He stuck out his hand and held the door open. “Just a second. You’d better get me Andi Lombard.”

She opened the door wider. “I’m Andi.”

“Hello, Andi. I’m your stripper.”

Chance folded his arms and waited. He told himself not to feel the least bit sorry for her. She’d hired a stripper for a party that included wives of major stockholders. That included his
mother,
for God’s sake. She’d also apparently gotten them all blotto. She deserved this little moment.

He felt sorry for her, anyway.

She stood motionless, her back to him. Finally she spoke, her voice high and squeaky. “Would you both excuse me for a minute?” Then she walked out the door, past the confused stripper.

Chance followed her out the door. “Stay right there. Don’t do anything,” he said to the man.

“I’m paid by the job, not the hour. I can wait.”

He found her several feet down the apartment hall, her face the color of a stoplight, her eyes squeezed shut as she pumped her fists up and down in an obvious effort not to scream.

“Andi, listen, I—”

She went immediately still but kept her eyes shut. “A kind person would just shoot me.”

God, she was cute with her color high like that. Too cute for his own good. “I’ll leave the papers for Nicole on the hall table,” he said. “Have her sign where I indicated and get them back to me tomorrow.”

She nodded, still not opening her eyes.

He started to say something else, something to ease her embarrassment, but thought better of it His position didn’t allow him to condone this kind of behavior, even if the perpetrator was the most adorable screwup he’d met in years.

He walked back to the apartment, took the papers out of his briefcase and left them where she’d see them. Then he picked up his topcoat and walked out. As he passed the stripper still standing outside the doorway, he paused. “Just remember that most of the women in that room have only seen one naked man in their lives. Go easy on them.”

2

S
EVEN LONG MONTHS
since she’d seen Nicole, Andi thought as she paced the gate area of the Las Vegas airport, waiting for her sister and Bowie to walk through the jetway. This houseboat trip on Lake Mead, just the three of them, was a great idea, and she had Nicole to thank for it. For one thing, she’d get to see Nicole before the baby was born in two months, and for the other, Nicole would be able to give her some guidance as she struggled, at long last, to get some direction in her life.

The prospect of becoming an aunt had trained a spotlight on her own unsettled lifestyle and made her yearn for more stability. Maybe she’d found something worth pursuing in her latest venture of teaching yoga, but she wasn’t quite sure, and desperately wanted some validation from Nicole. It was, she thought with a smile, sort of like running to Nicole with her unfinished term paper, the way she’d done so many times when they were younger. Nicole would know what to do.

Andi had been having similar thoughts for quite a while, even before the wedding, but that hadn’t been a time for long talks with Nicole. After the disaster with Chance Jefferson at the bridal shower, Andi had tried to keep a low profile. In fact, she’d specifically been trying to avoid him when she’d toppled over backward into the hotel fountain during the reception. She was certain he thought she’d had too much to drink, when actually she’d
stayed away from the trays of champagne flutes. She didn’t want to get tipsy and embarrass herself.

And it
really
wasn’t her fault that two of those waiters had been so busy watching her climb out of the fountain they’d run into each other. Could she help it if Chance had been right in the line of fire when the champagne trays went flying? Thank God she wouldn’t have to spend much time in Chance’s company. Between being attracted to his good looks and intimidated by his efficiency, she became a basket case every time he showed up.

She concentrated on the flow of people from the black tunnel of the jetway, and finally spied Nicole. With a shriek of welcome, she hurried forward, arms outstretched. “Come here, you pudgy woman!”

“I am not pudgy!” Nicole hugged her fiercely. “I’m just smuggling a small watermelon.”

“You look darling carrying a watermelon.”

“Doesn’t she?” Bowie came up behind her, holding a duffel bag. His good-natured face beneath a thatch of sandy hair had filled out a little, probably due to Nicole’s cooking, Andi figured.

Andi released her sister and turned to give him a hug. “Hey, what do you mean, knocking up my sister?”

“It’s what guys do,” he said. “I can see we need to have a talk about the facts of life. How’ve you been? Fallen in any fountains lately?”

Andi pulled his head down and whispered in his ear, “That’s a dangerous thing to say when we’ll be on a houseboat together for a week. Accidents happen, you know.”

“Andi,” Nicole said, a tremulous quality to her voice, “we have the best surprise.”

Andi turned toward her sister. “Twins?”

“No.” She glanced behind her.

For the first time, Andi’s field of vision lengthened to take in more than her sister and brother-in-law, and when she saw who was standing behind them, suited up as if for Michigan Avenue, briefcase in hand, she gulped.

“Look who agreed to come on the trip,” Nicole said. “The four of us will have a ball, don’t you think?”

As Andi looked into Chance Jefferson’s blue eyes, she saw her own astonishment mirrored there.

He glanced at Bowie. “Andi’s going, too?”

H
E’D BEEN SET UP.
And so had Andi, judging from the look on her face when she’d first seen him. As they headed toward baggage claim, Andi and Nicole walked ahead, lost in conversation. Chance hoped it was about bassinets and crib mobiles; he feared it was about him. Andi had her arm around her sister. At first, Chance had wondered if she’d back out, knowing he was part of the package, but apparently she was willing to suffer through a week in his company to be with Nicole.

Chance grabbed Bowie’s arm and dropped back a few paces.

Bowie sighed. “Okay, so I should have told you.”

“And
her.
Did you see the look on her face when she first saw me? She doesn’t want me on this trip.”

“Nicole wanted to tell both of you, but I was afraid at least one of you would cancel if you knew. Nicole and I cut cards to settle the argument about telling or not, and I won.”

Chance kept his voice low. “So what’s the deal? Is this some plot to create family harmony between Andi and me?”

Bowie glanced at him. “Something like that.”

Chance didn’t trust the gleam in Bowie’s eyes. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

“Just get to know her, Chance.”

“Hey, I’m not interested in—”

“She’s a great gal. You two got off to a rocky start, but—”

“Are you insane? I can’t believe you’re seriously trying to fix me up with your wife’s sister. There’s, conservatively, a million-to-one chance of it working out, and that leaves a hell of a lot of room for total chaos. This is a terrible idea, Bowie.”

Bowie set his jaw. “Is it? I saw the way you looked at her when she climbed out of the fountain, like somebody hit you between the eyes with a two-by-four.”

“Which is about what I expected to happen next! Whenever she’s around it’s like being in a disaster movie. Coming this summer, to theaters near you—
Andi.

“You looked that way when you went bonkers over Myra Oglethorpe in tenth grade,” Bowie persisted.

“You can’t possibly remember how I looked at Myra Oglethorpe.”

“Wanna bet? I was the kid. brother. You were like a god to me. I remember the orchid corsage you bought her for the Christmas dance. I remember the burgundy cummerbund you didn’t want to wear until Mom told you it made you look like Tom Selleck. You were so nervous you passed out ten minutes before you were supposed to leave with Dad to pick her up.”

Chance’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his brother. “And you threatened to tell her all about it at the bus stop on Monday unless I gave you twenty bucks.”

Bowie shrugged. “So I was into blackmail. A guy has to supplement his allowance somehow.”

“Now I know why I came on this trip. So you could remind me of all those golden memories. Dammit, Bowie, I think I’ll snag my luggage and take it back upstairs to
the ticket counter. I have a ton of work to do, and Andi would love to see me disappear. I’d save us all a lot of trouble.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Look, if you’re trying to get something started between Andi and me, I might as well leave. I can see it’s a mistake, even if you can’t.”

“It’s not just that.”

“So what else?”

“This is supposed to be my birthday trip, right? The one Dad always took us on a week or two after our birthdays.”

The role he’d been shoved into so abruptly began wrapping its tentacles around him. “Yeah, but—”

“When you said we could take this trip together, I felt like…” Bowie looked away. “Well, like we were keeping something important going.”

Hell.
Chance knew a killer argument when he heard one. Bowie had instinctively appealed to his sense of tradition and responsibility. As much as he might want to fly back to Chicago, as much as Andi might want him to, he was stuck here.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” he said quietly. “But this matchmaking thing is not happening, Bowie. I—” He was distracted by the beeping of a cart whisking passengers.to a gate. It bore down on Andi and Nicole, their heads together in serious discussion, oblivious to the world around them.

“Nicole! Watch out!” he called, sprinting forward.

Andi looked up first and pushed Nicole out of the way, but the cart had to swerve to avoid Andi. It sideswiped a gift-shop display, which launched glittering souvenir visors and fanny packs out into the terminal. The smooth soles of Chance’s dress shoes found a slick spot on the
floor and he landed on his butt amid the scattered merchandise. Fortunately, a fanny pack cushioned his briefcase as it slammed to the floor. And so it continues, he thought
Andi, The Movie.

A
NDI WOULD WALK
through hell for her sister, and hell it would be this week, she thought as she drove her van toward Lake Mead. They’d all bought visors and fanny packs from the disrupted gift stand as a peace gesture, and everyone wore a visor except Chance, who’d stuck his in his briefcase. Andi supposed it didn’t go with his suit, but he should have put it on just to demonstrate solidarity, in her opinion. Not that he gave a damn about her opinion.

Before the latest incident, Nicole had been explaining that Chance desperately needed a break from his crushing responsibilities and besides that, he and Bowie needed time to bond. She’d been laying the blame on Bowie for not notifying Andi about this little surprise appearance, when the courtesy cart had nearly taken them both out. Andi figured she might as well get used to that sort of pandemonium. It never failed to happen when she was around Chance.

For the moment, she concentrated very hard on her driving, which wasn’t simple considering that Chance sat in the passenger seat next to her. It was a logical arrangement, along with assigning Bowie and Nicole to the middle seat. The rest of the van was stuffed with luggage and the gear she’d brought. Bowie had packed an extra sleeping bag for Chance, and brought an extra fishing pole. As long as they caught fish, the groceries Andi had bought would probably stretch to four people. Logistically, Chance’s presence wouldn’t cause a problem. Emotionally—well, she’d just have to try to ignore him.

Ha. What red-blooded woman would be able to ignore
a man who looked like Chance? Too bad he hadn’t turned out to be a stripper. So far today he’d taken off his suit coat and tie after experiencing Las Vegas in the middle of an August heat wave, but that was the extent of his disrobing. A faint scent of expensive men’s cologne drifted across to Andi as he shifted in his seat to say a few words to Bowie.

In the midst of the conversation, a phone rang.

Andi glanced around before realizing the noise came from the briefcase at Chance’s feet. “Your briefcase is ringing,” she said.

“Yeah.. Excuse me.” He pulled it onto his lap, flipped it open and took out a cellular phone.

While Nicole pointed out landmarks to Bowie, Chance spoke at length with the person on the phone and made notes on a pad he pulled out of a briefcase pocket. He looked as if he were sitting in his office back on Michigan Avenue. If he kept this up, there would be precious little bonding going on, Andi thought.

“Look at that lake, Nic,” Bowie said as Andi took the road leading around it toward the marina. “Smooth as glass.”

“I’ve been looking. I’m dying to get into the water and cool off.”

“Me, too,” Andi said.

“Control yourself,” Bowie said. “I know how you like to fling yourself into the first body of water you come to.”

“Sometimes it’s more fun to fling someone else into the first body of water I come to,” Andi retorted. Although Bowie’s teasing helped keep her from obsessing about Chance’s being around, her brother-in-law was partly to blame for her having to deal with Chance in the first place. She just might push Bowie overboard. She’d
push Nicole overboard, too, except she had to think of the baby.

Chance put the phone back in his briefcase and continued to make notes on the pad.

“Who was that?” Bowie asked.

“Eikelhorn.” Chance kept writing.

“You know,” Bowie said, “I wonder if he’s steering us wrong about that ad agency. I’ve seen a couple of their ads, and they seem pretty pedestrian to me.”

“Mmm.” Chance’s attention remained on his notes.

“There are a couple of other agencies that might be able to do a better job for us, if you’d like me to check them out.”

“Eikelhorn has it under control.” Chance underlined something and tapped the end of his pen against the paper. It was obvious he wasn’t really listening to what. Bowie had said.

“Yeah, well, it was just a thought.” Bowie sounded disappointed but resigned.

Andi glanced in the rearview mirror just as Nicole put a comforting hand on Bowie’s knee. Then she looked over at Chance, who was still engrossed in the notes he was making, apparently unaware that he’d cavalierly sliced and diced his brother’s suggestion. Anger boiled in her. Bowie was a great guy, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be dismissed like that. Chance might be gorgeous. He might be skilled and efficient at business matters. But he didn’t know squat about how to treat his brother.

Andi suddenly didn’t feel so intimidated by the man. Chance Jefferson wasn’t perfect, after all. In fact, he needed to be taught a thing or two. Apparently, Nicole hadn’t made any progress in that department, but then, she’d always been shy about such matters. Time for the second team to take the field.

C
HANCE MADE SEVERAL
calls on his cellular phone before they reached the marina and, in the process, he concluded that concentrating on business this week would help him keep his mind off Andi. She’d met them at the airport in very short shorts, a skinny little neon-green shirt and hightops. He could tell she enjoyed flamboyance, although she probably considered him immune to it. He wasn’t Bowie was right about his reaction to her. Despite the disasters that swirled around her, he was fascinated. Come to think of it, the emotions she stirred in him weren’t so different from the way he’d felt when he’d fallen for Myra Oglethorpe.

But he wasn’t in tenth grade anymore, even though there were days he wished he were, days when he’d give anything to abandon the prestige and money in favor of freedom. It wasn’t an option.

“Well, gang, here we are.” Andi parked the van next to the marina. “I’ll get the paperwork taken care of if you’ll load everything into those wheeled carts down by the dock.” Then she hopped out of the van, grabbed a folder of papers and started toward the registration office.

Chance watched the hypnotizing motion of her bottom for about two seconds too long and Bowie caught him at it. “Well, what are we waiting for?” he asked briskly, ignoring Bowie’s grin as he stepped into the blast furnace of a Nevada summer day. The growl of outboard motors filled the air and the acrid scent of diesel fuel triggered memories of his uncle’s boat and lazy Wisconsin summers. Back then he’d been impatient to grow up, with no clue how precious those carefree days had been.

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