Taken by Tuesday (Weekday Brides Series) (2 page)

As if she couldn’t help herself, Judy glanced down, and it was Rick’s turn to laugh. He brushed the edge of her body with his and removed the cue from the table. “What do ya say, Utah? I’ll even let you break. Ladies first and all that.”

Rick knew they were drawing a crowd, but the interplay between them matched the sparks that hovered over them like a damn rainbow, and he was powerless to care what anyone thought.

“A hundred bucks is steep, Judy.”

“S’OK, Meg . . . Rick’s a big talker. Besides, he doesn’t know what I’m capable of.”

Rick shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Now, now . . . don’t want to show all your cards.”

“She’s really good, dude,” the guy she’d relieved of twenty bucks said from across the table.

Rick lowered his voice. “Will you go easy on me, babe?”

Judy regained some of her lost composure and pushed away from his personal space. “Not on your life. And I’m not your
babe
!”

We’ll see about that.

He couldn’t stop smiling.

I’m not going to smile. I’m not going to smile.
OK, inside she was smiling. Though the man could be quite aggravating, he was so yummy to look at. Made the men in the bar look like boys. Compared to him, they were.

Meg lowered her lips to her ear. “Who is he?”

Judy chalked her cue stick and whispered, “Mike’s security.”

“The guy from last summer?”

Yeah, the guy who helped find Becky Applegate and bring Becky’s abusive father to justice. Rick might have the nickname Smiley, but that smile would vanish in a heartbeat if someone screwed with him. She’d seen him in action, and he was a tornado without a weather warning siren. Though if her own heart beating in her chest was any indication, she was being given a warning or two about this man.

“Grrr!” Meg growled under her breath like a freaking cat.

“You should go for it.”

Meg snickered. “Hon, he’s not here looking at me.”

Judy glanced up and noticed Rick’s intense stare. She finished her beer and signaled the waitress. “The bet is a hundred bucks and a round of drinks.”

“Whatever the lady wants.”

“Another round, Cindy . . . and whatever he’s having.”

Rick waved his beer in the air, leaned back, and crossed his arms over his chest. Too bad this dive didn’t have Dom Pérignon or she’d see if Rick’s wallet could handle her. Not that she’d had a lot of experience with expensive wines . . . well, when she visited her brother there always seemed to be pricy bubbly.

“Anytime you’re ready, babe.”

Around her, there were side bets taking place. Not that she had any earthly clue of Rick’s ability, but she had to guess some of the guys thought his very stature was enough to bet on. She had to admit, his confidence shook her . . . a little.

Judy placed the white ball on the table and leaned over. Directly in front of her, Rick stood, just on the other side of the colorful balls all racked up and ready to fly. Pool was nothing but angles and lines. Things she worked with every day in school. Once she pictured the table as a big grid with a multitude of possibilities, she started sinking balls and raking in some spending money for her and Meg to blow. She didn’t have to hustle pool. Her friends at the bar did it for her. Newbies were warned, and the bets were never high . . . just drinks and pocket change.

It was fun, and in the end, everyone had a good time.

She pulled back on the cue a few times, lining up the balls. “How many times do I have to tell you . . .” She slammed the balls together and both a solid and a stripe managed to disappear in opposite pockets. One glance at the table and she set up three more shots . . . solids. She walked around to Rick’s side of the table, leaned over, and finished her sentence. “I’m not your babe.” She sank the four and stood with a grin. With her index finger, she pushed Rick out of her personal space, and offered him her ass as she banked the one ball into a corner pocket.

She couldn’t remember flirting this shamelessly, especially when she had no real intentions of making good on her sexual vibes. Flirting with Rick was fun, but the man screamed danger and she just didn’t do danger. Not even for one night.

The next shot wasn’t a given, it would take a bank and it would probably hit the striped ten ball on its way in . . . but if she hit the ten at ninety degrees, it might just work. Judy lined up her angles while everyone around the table grew silent.

She felt the weight of Rick’s stare as she tapped the ball and watched as it slowly hit her target and nearly stopped before sinking. She sighed and grinned.

“Damn, Utah . . . you
are
good.” Yet Rick’s smile didn’t waver.

“Warned ya, dude.” Jerry was the resident killjoy, making sure every opponent knew the risk of betting against her.

There wasn’t a decent shot on the table, so Judy made sure the white ball wasn’t in an optimal position for Rick to make an easy target.

Rick walked around the table, studied the balls. “Wanna up the bet, babe?”

Judy’s back teeth ground together. The term
babe
just wasn’t one she’d ever liked.

“What do you have in mind?”

“If you win, I’ll stop calling you
babe
.”

“And if you win?”

“A date . . . anytime, anywhere I choose.” He wasn’t even looking at her when he suggested it.

“A date?”

He chalked his cue. “Anytime, anywhere.”

“I have finals and graduation.”

“Those dates are exempt.”

Judy glanced at the table . . .

“Seems like a win-win to me,” Meg chimed in from the stool she sat on while sucking on her vodka tonic.

Judy rolled her eyes.

“OK, bad boy . . . you have yourself a bet.”

Noise from the bar caught her attention. A couple of guys were arguing about a game on the massive TV.

She turned around and focused on Rick.

“So.” He leaned over and without any real focus, sank the eleven, a shot she hadn’t seen. “You really don’t like being called
babe
.”

“I prefer Utah over
babe
.”

The fourteen was an easy hit, but he managed to bank it and shove the nine in an opposite pocket on the other side of the table.

Those around the table started exchanging dollars.

Rick’s next shot missed.

Judy pulled off her jacket and handed it to Meg. So he wanted to play hardball?

The seven practically took a protractor to line up, but down it went and up went Rick’s eyebrow. Her next shot missed, but so did Rick’s.

She managed the two ball and was feeling confident when Rick sank two in one shot . . . again.

The hell!

“So, they play a lot of pool in the service?” she asked.

He laughed. “Not really.” He lined up his last ball on the table. It went in with ease and Judy’s heart rate shot up. She didn’t really have a hundred bucks on her. They’d only been in the bar for a couple of games before Rick managed to make an appearance. And then there was the date on which she just knew he’d call her
babe
the entire time.

“So where did you learn to play?”

He paused . . . made eye contact. “Hustled pool when I was seventeen. Made a ton of money, too.”

Ahh damn.

Noise from behind them caught both their attention. Seemed the resident drunk didn’t like the ref’s call and was getting in someone else’s face about it.

Judy focused on the table, noted the position of the eight ball. In all its black glory, it hugged the side of the table. Rick would have to be a moron to miss the shot. She might as well have the name
babe
monogrammed on her towels now.

“What’s the matter,
babe
? You look upset.”

“You don’t know me well enough to know if I’m upset.”

Rick chuckled, leaned over, and pulled the cue back.

From the bar, glass crashed to the floor. Judy swiveled in time to see a chair sailing in the air. She was about to duck when strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her out of the line of fire.

Her lungs exploded and all the air inside pushed out and had her head spinning.

Rick tucked her head into his strong, thick shoulder at the same time she felt his body jerk. Around him, wood splintered and she heard Meg yell.

Judy dared to look and noticed the bar erupt in a full-blown fight. This had happened once before, right after she’d turned twenty-one, but that had been a couple of years ago.

“You OK?”

Green eyes accompanied a stern face . . . so different from the laughter that always seemed to dominate Rick’s expression. His entire body covered hers . . . from head to knee. She felt every hard edge of him. Every edge.

“Fine.”

Rick suddenly turned his face toward hers, and shoved her even farther under him. Glass splattered over them both.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Meg and their friends fleeing through the back door.

Noise filled the room and the sound of fists meeting flesh made Judy cringe.

Rick practically lifted her off the ground at the same time he pushed off the floor, his arm a vise grip on her waist.

The minute he was on his feet, someone threw a punch and was met with Rick’s elbow, followed by his foot, tossing the drunk aside.

“Back door?”

Judy pointed in the direction her friends had just exited and Rick ran with her out the exit.

They stumbled into the damp alley, and the cool spring night smacked up against her face.

Without meaning it, she found a smile on her face despite the sting to her arm where she’d met the ground with Rick’s tackle. His blow to the ground was better than a chair across her head.

“Are you all right?”

She started to laugh.

“Judy?”

She leaned forward, hands on her knees to catch her breath and stop her laughter. “Ever notice how every time we see each other something crazy happens?”

It took a minute, but Rick started to laugh along with her. “I’m going to blame you.”

“Easy to do since I live here and you’re visiting.”

She straightened and placed a hand to her sore elbow. Then she remembered her favorite jean jacket inside the bar. “Oh, damn.”

“What?”

“Nothing . . . my jacket . . . whatever.” It wasn’t worth going back in for.

“Judy?” Meg called her name from the street.

“We’re here.”

Two patrons exploded from the back door, and Rick once again pulled her away from the fists flying as the fight moved onto the street.

They jogged away from the chaos and met with Meg and two of their male friends.

“That’s one way to end the night!”

Judy blew out a long breath. “I have my final to work on anyway . . . what time is it?”

“Not even ten.”

Judy cocked her head to the side as her eyes met Rick’s. The man was such a contradiction. Soft green eyes, thick muscles . . . easy smile, fierce protective gene.

“That’s it!” That’s what her project needed. Soft lines and thick wood. God, it was in front of her the whole time. It was going to be brilliant. OK, maybe not brilliant, but over-the-top unique and nothing that had been done before . . . or so she hoped.

“Utah?”

Judy didn’t consciously realize that she’d lifted her hand and traced Rick’s arm. Soft and thick . . . she snapped her hand back when he reached to steady her.

“Did you hit your head?”

It ached, actually . . . but that was probably the noise from the bar spilling out and the excitement of knowing exactly what she needed to do for her final.

“No . . . I’m good. Meg?” She turned toward her friend. “We gotta go. My final . . . I know what I need to do.”

Meg shook her head and laughed.

Rick grasped her hand before she could sprint away. “About that date.”

Judy tugged away, pointed a finger in his direction. “You didn’t win, Green Eyes.”

“I didn’t lose,
babe
.”

Judy laughed. God, he annoyed her in a perfect kind of way. “Until a rematch then.” As Meg was pulling her away, Judy said, “Thanks for keeping my head from being kicked in.”

Rick stood in the alley, rain drizzling all around him as the fight from the bar moved into the street and sirens started from somewhere east of the alley. “Anytime, Utah.”

Judy turned and ran down the rainy street to the apartment she shared with Meg, all the while knowing that Rick watched her from behind.

Chapter Two

Michael rented a small reception hall and cased in the Dom Pérignon for Judy, her friends, and their families.

Judy floated on a cloud. She’d aced her finals, had the well-earned honors cords around her neck, and a smile on her face that no one could knock off.

Meg stepped into the reception hall, her parents at her side.

Judy ran up and once again that day, threw her arms around her best friend. “We did it.”

“You’re a geek, Gardner. You knew we did it last week.” But Meg was smiling just the same.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal.” She kissed Meg’s parents.

“You make me feel old, Judy.”

Judy shrugged, refusing to call Meg’s parents by their first names. “It’s the way I was raised. Have you met my parents?” She flagged over Janice and Sawyer and introduced them to Meg’s parents. Once the four of them started talking, Judy pulled Meg away.

“C’mon, we need some pictures.”

She started with Mike, but first she needed to drag him away from her other friends, who zeroed in on the celebrity and were asking for autographs.

She hugged her brother and let him lift her and turn her in a circle. “There’s the graduate.” He kissed her cheek.

“Thanks for the party.”

“What’s a rich older brother good for if not a decent graduation party?” Mike knew he was so much more than that.

“This is Meg, by the way.”

Unlike any of her other friends, Meg oozed coolness and none of that fan-girl crap. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mike.”

Mike raised his eyebrow, probably because of the use of his name. Everyone other than family called him Michael. “I heard that the two of you were in a bar fight that may or may not have involved hustling pool.”

Meg shrugged. “Well, there was a bar fight, but we never
hustle
pool.”

The memory of that night had Judy looking around the room. She’d seen Rick in the back of the VIP box at graduation, but she’d not seen him since.

Judy stopped one of her friends as they walked by. “Can you take our picture?”

Judy sandwiched Mike between herself and Meg and blinked when the camera flashed. The second picture was perfect and she immediately posted it to Facebook.

“We need to get all of the family before anyone leaves,” she told her brother.

“I doubt Mom will let us leave without it.”

The waiter walked by, offered tall flutes filled with champagne, and the three of them toasted the day.

“You sure it’s still OK that Meg and I stay in your place when we get to LA?” Judy had lined up an internship at Benson & Miller Designs, and Meg wanted to see if California had anything to offer. The first couple of months would be easier to handle in a new city with a home base. Her brother’s Beverly Hills home was anything but tiny. Not that she planned to stay there long, just long enough to find a part-time job and for her and Meg to get their own place.

“I’m never there, Judy. I’d appreciate someone I can trust watching over the place while I’m on location. Ask Karen.”

Karen was Mike’s ex-wife, and Zach, their other brother’s new wife. It was a complicated script, and a family secret. Apparently, Mike married Karen as a paper marriage when the studios wanted him to look like he’d settled down. Karen and Mike had never been anything but friends. When Karen and Zach met, apparently, there were some serious sparks and they hooked up. That was a good thing, because Judy liked Karen. She didn’t want to hate the woman because she broke her brother’s heart . . . either of her brothers.

Hannah, her younger sister, snuck up behind them, her cell phone in hand. Meg took pictures of all of them, and before Judy knew it, someone was dragging her away.

She’d shed her cap and gown and danced when the DJ started playing. Seemed everyone enjoyed a good party, and Mike knew how to keep it rolling. Zach and Karen had shown up along with her older sister, Rena, and her husband. The family picture was taken before every hair managed to get out of place.

After an hour of nonstop dancing, Judy stumbled outside to catch her breath and some fresh air. The sun was nearly gone, only a few remaining strands of orange and pink with a scattering of clouds. Seattle had been good to them on their graduation day, and that was rare. Mt. Rainier stood in the distance, a sight she knew she’d miss when she moved to LA. But that’s where her internship was taking her.

Footsteps behind her made her turn around.

Rick, wearing a suit that belonged on a secret service agent, loomed over her. He tilted his head and spoke into a mic she couldn’t see. “I found her. Everything’s fine.”

Judy put her hands up in mock surrender. “Was there a kidnapping threat when I wasn’t looking?”

There was no humor in Rick’s stern expression. “There’s no telling what someone might do to get to your brother.”

Wow! Who knew Rick took his job so seriously? Seems he always had a smile and laughed in the face of adversity.

“Just looking for fresh air, Green Eyes.”

His shoulders relaxed. Even in the suit, he took on the laid-back posture of the man she’d grown used to. “I haven’t seen you all night. How is it you knew I walked away?”

“Just because you haven’t seen me doesn’t mean I’m not there . . . watching.”

Lord, if she didn’t know the man . . . or kinda know him, that line might have made her squirm. “Stalker much?” she said even though she knew Rick wasn’t the twisted stalker type.

“Private security is a license to stalk.” He smiled now, as if he was enjoying his own private joke.

“So . . .” She paused, took a breath. “You were on duty . . . or assignment the other night?”

She expected a safe retort, not the truth.

“No. That was personal.” His lips actually lost some of his smile and his eyes peered into her in a way she’d never seen before.

“P-personal?” The cool air around her actually heated.

He tilted his head to the side, as if he was debating what exactly to say. “I take it you passed that final.”

“Hard to graduate without passing your finals. Now, back to that personal thing . . .”

Rick rocked back on his heels. “I wanted to see if the girl I met in Utah had the same amount of fire in her as she did last year. Then I find you hustling pool—”

“Playing for money isn’t hustling. You’re the one who said you hustled pool.”

Rick nodded. “I guess that’s true. Though bets over a hundred usually constitute a hustle.”

She pointed at him. “You’re the one who suggested the hundred bucks. I didn’t even have that much on me.”

Rick closed his eyes and dipped his head. “Welching on a bet? So bad.”

“I didn’t welch. You didn’t win!”

“I would have.”

Yeah, he would have . . . they both knew it, but she sure as hell wouldn’t let him know she knew it. “Gee, ego much?”

Rick walked to the side of the open veranda while Judy leaned against the pillar.

“I hear you’re going to stay at your brother’s while you find your own place in LA.”

“Mike tell you that?”

“I do monitor his place when he’s in town and come to events like this with him.”

Judy laughed. “I don’t think his sister’s graduation party is a high-risk event that requires a bodyguard or security.”

He turned to her now and ran a hand over his chin. “You’d be shocked at some of the crap your brother puts up with because of his fame. Living in his home will put you center stage.”

“After last summer, I don’t think I need to worry.”

“Last summer was all about someone else and had nothing to do with Hollywood’s leading man that everyone wants a piece of.”

Rick had her there.

But her adventure with Rick in locating Becky had made her feel alive in a way she’d never felt before and gave her confidence. Becky’s parents had kidnapped her, and Rick and Judy drove over half the state of Utah searching for the girl.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Rick’s eyes lost their laughter as he turned his head to the side. He placed a finger to his ear. “Moving inside now.” He closed the space between them and placed a hand on her waist. “Time to go inside.”

“What?” She moved alongside him, looking over her shoulder at the darkened sky.

“Paparazzi spotted on the south lawn looking for a photo op.”

“I doubt they care about me.”

Rick leaned in. “Anonymity is your friend.”

Inside, the music seemed even louder, and before she could say his name, Rick was walking away. His parting words were, “See you in LA, Utah.”

At least he didn’t call her
babe
.

The apartment she and Meg shared in Seattle had come furnished, perfect for college students who didn’t have money. Only now, they didn’t have anything! They had their cars, their clothes, and boxes of personal stuff that didn’t need a home outside of an attic for a while. Moving into Mike’s home was a blessing and also brought to light that she and Meg had a lot to accomplish before they could move out and do more than sleep on the floor.

Two guest rooms sat on the opposite side of Mike’s room in the massive house. Both Meg and Judy piled boxes into them, using the closet space and cluttering up the en suite bathrooms.

“I can’t believe your brother is letting us stay here. This place is amazing.”

Meg’s enthusiasm matched her own. Mike’s taste was off the charts. His Spanish-influenced palette of colors and textures complemented the rambling mission-style home and stucco walls. The massive great room opened up to the chef’s kitchen and dining room. Double glass doors opened to a courtyard that spread for at least a quarter acre, complete with fountains and a view of the city below. Judy couldn’t wait to explore every inch of the house and property.

“And we have our own bathrooms. Do you have any idea what it was like growing up in a house with so many people and only two toilets?”

“Not a clue,” Meg said. She was an only child and didn’t have to share a Barbie, let alone a sink and commode.

Now the light in the bathroom actually turned on when they walked into the room, no need to adjust a switch or anything. Both of them were about to embark on a style of living neither of them had any experience with.

The sound of Karen’s voice rang from the front of the house.

“Back here.” Judy brushed her hands together, removing some of the dirt that had accumulated from the stacks of boxes.

Karen’s blonde hair and bubbly personality moved with her into the guest room. In her hand, she held the foam board that Meg and Judy had laughingly placed in the back window of Judy’s car on the drive down.
California or Bust
sat in bright green letters with stars and smiley faces surrounding the text. It was juvenile and perfect for their postgraduation trip to LA.

“Look who made it in one piece.” Karen tossed the foam board on the bed and accepted Judy’s hug.

“I swear it took longer to get from Santa Barbara to here than it did from San Francisco to Santa Barbara.”

“Welcome to LA traffic. Might want to get used to it if you plan on staying.”

“My internship lasts six months . . . from there, who knows.”

Meg walked into the room and offered a wave. “Hey, Karen.”

The two greeted each other with a hug before Karen dragged them from the guest rooms. “I think you both need to know what it’s going to be like living in this house.”

Karen had lived there for over a year as Mike’s wife. Only she and Mike were never really “together,” no, their marriage had been arranged in order to make Hollywood and the producers of the films Mike starred in think he was happily married. The ruse was meant to last a year and then fade away. It did fade, but not in the nice, calm manner Karen and Mike wanted. Karen met Judy’s other brother, Zach, and the two really fell for each other. Needless to say, the media had a field day with the entire affair and littered the tabloids for months after the divorce.

Something Judy realized during those few months was that Hollywood, and the plastic lifestyle that followed her older brother, was nothing but an illusion. She still didn’t think she knew the entire truth about her brother and Karen’s brief marriage, but living in LA in her brother’s home would probably bring her up to speed.