Page 37 of All Bets Are Off

“Sorry.” I meant it. Or maybe I didn’t. Slowly, I unleashed the same smile I reserved for the showgirls I used to try to entice here and there. “If it’s any consolation, it was a nice break from my day.”

“You did not just say that!”

Oh, but I had said it. I’d meant it too. “I’ll leave your sub on the coffee table.” To my utter surprise, I was smiling when I left her bedroom. Sure, I’d invaded her privacy, but my day was clearly looking up. “Have fun with your book.”

“You read it, didn’t you?” she hissed at my back.

I laughed. There was nothing else I could do. “Have a good afternoon, Shortypants.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Fine. Good luck with your resumé tweaking, Squirt.”

She let loose a low scream which was almost enough to have me turning to see if I could get another glimpse of her naked and wet body. Honestly, I hadn’t expected for the view to be so glorious. She was still short but completely proportional. She had nice breasts that weren’t too big or too small. Her hips had a pronounced curve to them, as did her ass. She was basically perfect.

That’s going to be a problem,my inner voice warned. Now that you know that, you’re not going to be able to get her out of your head.

I ruthlessly pushed that idea away. It was fine. It was just something else to tease her over. Right?

Right?

9

NINE

It wasn’t as easy to find a job as I was hoping. Two weeks after the wedding—one week after the horror of him seeing me naked—and I was still twisting in the wind. I’d applied for thirty jobs, gotten three second interviews, and yet nobody was pulling the trigger. I didn’t have to think too hard on why.

“I told you I could get you a job,” Zach offered from the couch, where he was watching a basketball game with my brother. It was early—West Coast time meant that games were played when it was still light out—but it was obvious he was settling down for a long night in front of the television.

I did not get men and sports. I understood most sports—although if you asked me to explain exactly how soccer penalties worked, I would be adrift—and I even got excited for them sometimes. I was a huge Olympics geek, for example. Both winter and summer. Watching the Los Angeles Lakers take on the Detroit Pistons didn’t exactly blow up my skirt, though.

“What did I say?” I demanded of him. I was at the dining room table on my laptop, my body hunched over as I desperately searched for more jobs to apply for. I could’ve done it in my bedroom, but then I would’ve missed out on the opportunityto leave dishes out in the open and watch the vein in Zach’s forehead pulse.

Yeah, we were still inthatplace. It seemed to me that the only thing I had going for me was my irritation skills at present.

“I’m just saying, Livvie.” Zach looked pained now. “If you work here for a year—it doesn’t have to be a career—that will give people time to forget you’re the one who brought down Bucky Junior.”

“He’s right,” Rex offered from his spot next to Zach. “Your name is probably mud in certain circles.”

I used my imaginary death rays to explode my brother’s head. “Why am I being punished for doing what I was supposed to do?” I demanded.

“Because nobody actually wants their misdeeds publicized,” Zach replied. “They say they do—and if it was an employee they could publicly blame instead of a family member they would’ve appreciated it—but the truth is they want to sweep the embarrassment under the rug. That means throwing you under the bus.”

I hated—absolutely loathed—that he was right. “This sucks.” I pushed my laptop away. “I did the right thing.”

“You did,” Zach agreed. His attention was fully focused on me now. “You did the only thing you could do. It’s not fair, but it is what it is.”

“I can’t do nothing. I’ve been doing nothing for two weeks. It’s not fun anymore.”

“Oh, come on.” Zach let loose the sort of smile I knew separated women from their panties with alarming regularity. Well, it was having no effect on my panties. Not even a little. His charm didn’t work on me. “You know you’ve been having fun leaving dishes all over the penthouse for me to pick up.”

Iwashaving fun doing that. I would never deny it. That didn’t mean I wanted him calling me on it. Rather than respond,I left the table and ambled over to the two of them. “Why are we watching this?”

“Because we like it,” Zach replied. “It’s basketball. Who doesn’t like basketball?” There was that smile again. He knew it irritated me. There was no other reason for him to be aiming it at me with such alarming frequency.

“Let’s do something else,” I suggested.

Zach reached for his beer. “Like what?”

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