Rita Herron - Have Baby, Need Beau

“Sibling rivalry.”

“We’re not rivals, so don’t start that shrink stuff again. We’re best friends.”

Seth sipped his drink. “So you’re not jealous of her?”

“Of course not. I’m proud of Hannah.”

“Me, too. Hannah and I are friends.” He sipped his drink. “You looked a little uncomfortable today, too, Mimi. Has Joey ruined you for another guy? Is that the reason you’re against marriage?”

Mimi shrugged. “Like Grammy said, he was just a passing fancy.”

Seth chuckled. “Easy come, easy go?”

“Something like that.” Mimi traced a finger along the rim of her mug. “Although he did ask me to wait for him while he was in prison.”

Seth’s incredulous look made her laugh. “But you refused because you can’t wait that long?”

“No, if I really loved someone, I could wait.” She shuddered as Joey’s arrest replayed in her mind. The humiliation. Her father’s face on screen, the police, Joey holding Hannah at gunpoint. “He deceived me. My gosh, Seth, he cheated Dad and threatened Hannah. If anything had happened to them…”

“Your father and Hannah don’t blame you.” Seth covered her hand with his. His hand looked huge, but it felt warm, almost electric, sending strange sensations skittering up Mimi’s spine. Feelings she didn’t recognize.

“You do know that, don’t you?” He tipped up her chin with his thumb.

“Yes, but I feel so stupid. I should have seen through Joey, done something to stop him—”

“Don’t blame yourself, Mimi. Joey was a con artist. A pro. This wasn’t the first time he’d deceived people.”

“I still wish I’d caught on to his game.”

“So what did you say when he asked you to wait for him?”

“To dream on.”

Seth ran his knuckles over her cheek, his smile oddly tender. “Good for you. You can do better than him.”

Mimi hesitated, studying him. “You really think so?”

Seth released her and turned his gaze back to his drink. Odd how cold she suddenly felt, as if losing that touch was important. Must be the chill from her damp dress.

“Sure,” Seth said in a throaty voice. “He was a criminal. You’re hardworking and honest and…”

“And what?”

“And beautiful.”

Mimi almost choked on her drink. “You don’t make that sound like a compliment.”

“Beauty’s great.” Seth angled his head toward her. “As long as you have goals to go along with the looks.”

“I have goals,” Mimi said. “I told you I want to be an actress.”

“Right.”

Mimi’s temper rose. “Okay, so I’m not a brain surgeon or a lawyer and I don’t have a degree in anything, but I do have ambition. And I’m not settling for some two-bit loser like Joey again.” Mimi glanced around the cozy bar. “I realize now that our relationship was just…physical.”

A muscle ticked in Seth’s jaw as if talking about physical intimacy made him uncomfortable. He obviously didn’t specialize in sex therapy. “So, you know what you want in a guy next time?” he asked.

Mimi stewed over that question. “Maybe. Sort of.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m sure of the qualities I don’t want.” Suddenly suspicious he might be using one of his psychiatrist tricks to lure her into spilling her secrets, she turned the tables on him. “What about you? What do you want in a relationship?”

“Someone to complement my lifestyle.” His hand tightened around his drink. Mimi watched his throat muscles work as he finished the drink, tension humming through the air. Boy, he had a nice neck, tanned and muscular.

She had to forget about his neck. “Let me guess. That would be someone steady, settled, a homemaker or another doctor, someone who’ll fit into your routine?”

“You make me sound dull.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“I meant you’re dependable, steady, stable.”

“You don’t make those sound like compliments.”

“No, they’re great qualities. Just predictable.”

He cleared his throat. “I’m not always predictable.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mimi let her gaze travel the length of him. “I bet you eat the same thing for breakfast every day. Get up at the exact same time every morning, even on weekends. Never go anywhere without your pocket calendar. Have sex once a week, Saturday night, 11:00 p.m., right after the news. You wear those old-fashioned white briefs, and you wouldn’t be caught dead without an undershirt.”

“Is that what Hannah told you?”

“Hannah never talked about your love life or underwear. She was always pretty private.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

“I’m right though, aren’t I?”

“I refuse to talk about my love life with you.” He squared his shoulders, his cheeks slightly red. “And as far as my underwear is concerned, you looked when that hope chest tore my pants.”

“I didn’t have to look,” Mimi said softly. She patted his arm, surprised at the rock-hard muscles bunching beneath his suit. “It’s all right to have a routine as long as you don’t forget how to have fun, too.”

“And you’re a connoisseur of a good time?”

Mimi shrugged. “No date has ever accused me of being boring.”

“And there have been lots of dates, I suppose.”

“Enough.”

Seth ran his gaze over her. “You’re right, Mimi, I doubt you’d ever be accused of being boring.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you seem to enjoy stirring up things.”

Mimi bristled. “Things?”

“Men.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know…” He gestured at her hips. “The way you walk.”

“What about the way I walk?”

“That little twitch thing you do with your hips. You kind of sway from side to side. And your legs…”

Mimi felt a smile coming on. The poor man was flustered. “You don’t like my legs, Seth?”

Seth chuckled sardonically. “My God, your legs could be considered lethal weapons. Especially when you wear those miniskirts at the coffee shop.”

“So you’ve noticed my skirts?”

“It’s hard not to. Every man in the place is staring at you. Why do you think the café does such successful business?”

Mimi laughed mischievously. She should save Seth from himself, but she was having too much fun. “I thought it was my ‘hot brownie delight.’”

SETH UNDID the top button of his shirt. Hot brownie delight—jeez. It was her hot little body every man in the place wanted. Didn’t she have any idea how appealing she was? He’d seen men order desserts just to finagle the chance to talk to her.

And how had their conversation turned to underwear and Mimi’s dynamite legs?

He was supposed to be comforting her, not making a fool of himself by acting like the other lust-struck men in the place. And there were plenty.

Mimi was Hannah’s little sister, and he felt compelled to protect her.

“Hey, Seth, they’re playing a great dance number.”

Her green eyes sparkled in challenge, a snappy Ricky Martin tune drifting through the speakers. “Wanna dance? No, let me guess, you don’t.”

He didn’t, but he’d be damned if he’d admit it. He reached for her hand and dragged her to the dance floor. “I told you I’m not always predictable.”

Mimi’s laughter was infectious and so were her moves. He tried to copy the sexy swaying of her hips and body, and found himself transfixed by the heat in her eyes. One button, then two, came undone on his jacket as he strove for air on the crowded dance floor. When the fast song ended, Faith Hill’s sexy voice purred out the slow tune “Breathe.” He took Mimi in his arms and they swayed together, her body pressed intimately into the hard planes of his, her breath whispering against his neck. His heart pounded as her breasts pressed against him.