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“You here a lot?” I shot back.
Mom stepped between us, clearly feeling like this little showdown needed to come to an end. “I babysit for Katie while Clara works late sometimes,” she said, forcing a blue drink into Clara’s hand. “We’re all out on the patio, dear.” Then she bent over, looking Katie in the eye. “Do you want a blue drink too?”
“Okay,” Katie said eagerly, suddenly dropping the indignant act and following Mom to the counter.
“The kid probably doesn’t need a Blue Hawaiian, Mom,” I said, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator.
“It’s Blue Hawaiian punch,” Mom said, handing a plastic martini glass to Katie, who smirked at me as she followed Mom back outside.
I opened the beer in the now-quiet kitchen and took a long swig, trying to build my defenses back up after the double assault of seeing Clara again and being called to the mat by her daughter.
It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER4
CLARA
DIRTY CANDY
Ileft the kitchen with Violet and Katie, heading for the small group gathered on the patio.
“Clara!” Beckett greeted me, friendly and cheerful as ever.
“Hey Beckett.” I returned the warm smile he offered as Violet waved me toward a padded rattan chair facing a low coffee table where the others sat.
“So great to see you, and Katie. Hello,” he said, softer now, looking at my daughter who was pretending to be shy, ducking behind Violet as they joined the group.
“Katie, you know Beckett. You can say hello.” I met her eyes and gave her a meaningful look.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“And I’d like to introduce you both to Zara,” Beck said, his hand reaching to that of the beautiful dark-haired woman in the chair next to him. “My fiancée.”
“Oh my gosh, congratulations,” I said, gushing a little bit because I really did just love love. And they looked so happy, sitting there, beaming at one another. “That’s wonderful.”
“Good to see you again, Clara,” Sam said, more personable now that he was detached from his recliner and the television.
“You too, Sir. Thanks for inviting me over.”
Katie had managed to gain a bright blue mustache in the few minutes since we’d left the kitchen, and now she abandoned her blue punch to hover behind my chair. I could feel, more than see, that she was taken with Zara beside me. It was hard not to be. There was something magnetic about the small woman with the dark eyes.
“Are you tired of telling the ‘how we met’ story?” I asked her and Beck.
She laughed, “Not at all.”
“I haven’t heard it either.” Sly’s deep voice rumbled from somewhere behind me, and I did my best not to react, but my body had a will of its own where he was concerned. I wished it wasn’t true. It would have made life so much easier in high school, but I didn’t seem to be able to help that I was ridiculously attracted to the man. He was only the first in a string of ill-suited men that my libido seemed to fixate on.
I was older now, though. More mature, certainly. I could hold my own here. I steeled myself.
And then he took the chair on my other side, and the subtle scent of something smoky and soft hit me, teasing my senses. He smelled like caramel and leather—and the combination twisted up my insides and muddled my brain.
Damn Sylvester Remington. Why couldn’t I ignore this man?
“You smell like dirty candy,” Katie told him, clearly having overcome any uncertainty where he was concerned.
Beckett burst into laughter, and I took Katie’s hand, pulling her to sit on my lap. “We don’t comment on how people smell,” I whispered.
I glanced at Sly, who looked amused by her pronouncement as he took a swig of his beer.
