Full House

  Billie pushed away from Nick, took a tissue from the pocket of her shorts, and blew her nose. She hated being pathetic. "It's just a dumb tomato," she said through clenched teeth before ruthlessly ripping it from the vine. "Besides, who cares about a tomato when you're at Disney World?"

  Nick gently picked two more ripe tomatoes. "You have nothing to worry about, Billie. Your kids are on a vacation. A vacation is like a slice of birthday cake ... a nice treat once a year, but not healthy everyday fare. I'm sure your kids are homesick for their vegetable garden ... and for their mom."

  His perception and sensitivity knocked her back a few paces. "Wow. You don't miss much, do you?"

  "You were leading with your left." He added a cucumber to his cache of tomatoes. "You know, this is the first time I've ever picked my own salad. I'm thirty-six years old, and I've never had my own vegetable garden. I feel—" He glanced up at the odd sound Billie had made. "Are you all right?"

  He was thirty-six! That made her two years older than him. Billie instinctively felt her face for imaginary wrinkles. She told herself she was overreacting, and then reminded herself of the gray hair she'd found only the week before. What was she thinking? Not only was Nick handsome, rich, intelligent, and in mint condition, he was younger than her! He probably didn't own a pair of sensible shoes or worry about things like crow's-feet or varicose veins. He'd probably never before slept with a woman who had stretch marks across her lower abdomen from being pregnant.

  Billie shook her head. What had she been thinking? She'd been living in fantasyland for the past week, that's what. She'd let the infamous smooth-talking Nick Kaharchek convince her she was the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. She'd forgotten she was simply Billie Pearce, mother of two, who lived a quiet, simple life, kept a tight budget, and seldom made an impulsive decision. And yet, she'd hopped in bed with Nick the first chance she'd had.

  "Billie?"

  She snapped her head up, having been so deep in thought she'd forgotten that he was beside her. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking—"

  "About the kids?" He smiled tenderly. "I understand."

  Billie returned his smile, but she knew he would never understand what was going through her mind. Pictures of a younger and stunning Sheridan Flock filled her head. The woman probably wouldn't know what a stretch mark was if it slapped her in the face.

  "Maybe we should take the vegetables inside and have some lemonade."

  Nick dutifully followed her inside and deposited the tomatoes on the kitchen counter. He drew Billie to him and nuzzled her sun-warmed hair. They'd shared a bedroom for the past four nights, and he liked the easy intimacy it had produced between them. A ripple of heat knotted his stomach when he felt her breasts flatten against him.

  "Deedee isn't home," he murmured, "and it's been five hours since I've seen you naked."

  "We need to talk."

  "Later." He claimed her mouth with a ferocity that surprised even him. The need for her tore at him, stealing his breath, his control, leaving in its wake raw desire. He felt her instantly yield to him, felt her heat hum under his touch. He kissed her deeply, and he could not get enough of her.

  Loving Nick may not have been the best decision she'd ever made—losing him was going to break her heart—but she was a woman and people sometimes did things out of simple human need. And she would cherish every single memory, each touch, each kiss. The way his eyes darkened when he made love to her. Each touch had been indelibly imprinted on her body and heart.

  Their loving was perfect, and just as Billie thought she could no longer bear his teasing hand and skillful mouth, he filled her with himself. She arched beneath him, wanting to call his name, but found she had no voice. They moved together, staring into each other's eyes for a short moment until they climaxed.

  It was the most amazing experience of her life.

  She was about to say something just as the phone rang.

  Nick watched her answer the call and wondered at the look of disbelief on her face. She hung up, checked the time on the bedside digital clock, and smacked herself in the forehead. "That was my ex-husband. He's in the hospital with a compound fracture of his left leg, and my kids are arriving at Dulles Airport in half an hour!"

  They both jumped out of bed and began scrambling into clothes. Nick tugged at the zipper of his Levi's. "Why didn't he call you sooner?"

  "Apparently, he was sedated. You get the car out of the garage, and I'll lock up the house."

  Forty-five minutes later, Billie introduced Nick to Christie and Joel Pearce. They looked like their mother, he thought. The same silky brown hair, the same slanted hazel eyes and cute little nose. The boy was sturdy and two inches shorter than his long-legged sister. He solemnly shook Nick's hand and with eight-year-old honesty blurted, "You're not my mom's boyfriend, are you?"

  Nick ran his hand through his hair. "Um—"

  Joel rolled his eyes and looked at his sister. "We leave her alone for two weeks and look what happens."

  Christie shifted the weight of the skateboard she carried on her hip and shuffled in her yellow high-top basketball shoes. "Joel, that's not polite. It's not good manners to say things like that out loud." Her eyes grew wary. "This isn't serious, is it?" she whispered to Billie. "Does Dad know about this?"

  "Honey, your daddy and I are just friends now," she said, caught off guard by the question. "We're very good friends, but we're free to have other friends, as well." Billie grabbed two suitcases coming off the baggage carrier. "So, did you guys have a good time?" A change of subject was definitely in order. She could always talk with Christie privately if and when the subject came up again.

  "It was great. Except when Dad got sun poisoning, and caught himself with a fishhook in the behind, and fell off the pier into shallow water and broke his leg. It was all so totally uncool. Like he just turned into this big klutz or something since the last time we saw him." Christie paused to transfer the skateboard to her other side. "He was really upset over the sun poisoning. You know how he is about his tan."

  "Yeah, you should have heard him," Joel added. "He knows a lot of words we're not allowed to say."

  Billie sighed and directed them toward the car in the parking lot. "I suppose there are all kinds of education." Nevertheless, she was thankful her children had seen the side of their father that made him appear human instead of the superhero he often came off as.

  Nick put the suitcases in the back of the station wagon and held the passenger-side door for Billie.

  "He's driving our car," Joel said. "Boy, this guy moves fast."

  Billie bit her lip and whispered under her breath. "I'm really sorry. I think they're a little surprised."

  Nick squeezed her knee. "Don't worry about it."

  The black limo was parked in the driveway when they reached home. Joel's eyes got wide. "Wow, look at the cool car! Look at the license plate. It says 'the assassin.' Awesome!"

  "It belongs to a professional wrestler," Billie explained. "Frankie the Assassin."

  "Frankie the Assassin! Oh, man." Joel rolled back in his seat. "He's so cool. He's the best!"

  Christie was more reserved. "What's he doing at our house?"

  "Nick's cousin Deedee is engaged to Frankie. Deedee is living with us until her wedding next Saturday."

  "That's so incredible," Joel said. "Frankie the Assassin in our house. I can't wait to see him. You think he'll autograph my forehead?"

  Billie stared at her son. "So you're a big fan, huh?"

  "The biggest." Joel rushed from the car to the house.

  Christie followed her brother but paused halfway across the lawn. "Can I call Molly and Doris and Jody and ask them over to ogle Frankie?"

  Billie gave a weak wave. "Of course. I wouldn't want you to have to ogle him alone." She turned to Nick. "Are those my children?"

  Nick ruffled her hair. "They're happy to be home." He kissed her on the nose and handed her the skateboard from the back seat. "You take this, and I'll get the s
uitcases."

  Deedee and Frankie were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking iced tea, when Joel burst into the kitchen. "Eeyeuuw, it's a kid," Deedee said. She wrinkled her nose and squinted at him. "What are you doing here?"

  "I'm Joel Pearce. I live here." He saw Frankie and unconsciously took a step backward into his sister.

  "Awesome," Christie breathed, not even noticing her little brother, who was smushed against her. "Totally massive."

  Billie pried Joel from his sister and introduced them to Frankie and Deedee.

  "What a nice surprise," Deedee said. "Did you guys come home for your mom's wedding?"

  Joel looked at his mother. "You're getting married?"

  Billie felt the color drain from her face. "Actually, Deedee and Frankie are getting married, and—" What was she supposed to say now?

  Christie stood motionless with the phone in her hand. "Does Grandma know about this?"

  "Nobody knows," Billie said. "I don't even know."

  Christie looked shocked. "You're getting married, and you didn't tell Grandma? Boy, the bananas are gonna hit the fan when she finds out about this. Grandma likes to know everything," Christie explained to the group.

  "Wait a minute," Deedee said. "Is this the grandma named Mildred? She called while you were out. I told her everything. She said to call her back pronto."

  Billie reached out to steady herself on the kitchen counter. "You didn't tell her about the, uh, wedding, did you?"

  Deedee winced. "I figured you'd already told her.

  I don't think your dad took it so well because there was a lot of yelling in the background."

  Coming up beside Billie with the suitcases, Nick heard most of the exchange. He took one look at Billie's face and set the bags down. "You're hyperventilating, honey. Take a deep breath."

  It happened suddenly. A few spots floated across Billie's field of vision and then blackness.

  Nick caught her before she hit the floor.

  Chapter Nine

  When Billie came around she was lying on her bed. "What happened?"

  Nick let out a whoosh of breath, took the wet cloth from Billie's forehead, and wiped his face with it. "Man, I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. You fainted."

  "I didn't! I never faint."

  "You hyperventilated, and then you fainted."

  She blinked at the anxious group standing behind Nick. "I'm okay now. Could you guys leave me alone with Nick for a few minutes? There's something we have to talk about." Billie watched Joel and Christie and Frankie and Deedee file out of the room and close the door. "So, what are we going to do?"

  "Everybody thinks we're getting married," Nick said, brushing a stray lock of hair from Billie's forehead.

  "That's ridiculous."

  "Is it?" He didn't know what to think. Every instinct in his body told him to run like hell, but he couldn't imagine going even one day without seeing her.

  Billie pulled herself up to a sitting position. "For starters, you've never asked me to marry you. I certainly am not going to marry a man who's never even proposed. And even if you did propose, I don't know if I'd say yes. I hardly know you."

  Nick grinned and raised his eyebrows.

  "Well, maybe I know you pretty well in some ways. But what about my children? You can't just spring this sort of thing on a kid. And there are other things to think about ... like the fact I'm thirty-eight years old. Old enough to be, well, your older sister."

  "You must have hit your head when you fell. I certainly don't think of you as my sister, and I hardly think a couple of years' difference in our ages makes it an issue."

  "I don't have a dress. And besides, I think I have an appointment to have my teeth cleaned next Saturday. If I cancel that appointment I won't get another one until October. You know how dentists are."

  Nick put the wet cloth back on her forehead. "Maybe you should lie down for a while. You're sort of ... um, babbling."

  "I am not babbling. I'm having a nervous breakdown. There's a difference."

  Nick sighed. "Do you want me to ask you to marry me?"

  "I don't know what I want. Everything is happening so fast I can't catch my breath."

  He knew the feeling well, but he wouldn't risk losing her.

  "I think we would make a good team."

  "Team?"

  "You're looking for security, and I'm looking for—" He paused, trying to think of what it was exactly he had found in Billie Pearce that had made such a difference in his life. There were so many things that made her special.

  "Sex?"

  He looked at her. "Sex has a lot to do with it, yes."

  "Get out."

  "What?"

  She pointed. "I am not about to prostitute myself for any man."

  "Sex isn't the only reason, Billie. I like your cookies, too."

  "Don't you have someplace you need to be?"

  Nick banged his head against the wall. "What would it take to convince you?" When she didn't answer, he planted his hands on his waist and regarded her. "I care about you, dammit. I care what happens to you and your children. I can provide a good home, a stable home." At her look of incredulity, he went on. "Well, once I find Max, and I do intend to find him. Today. I don't care if I have to hire the National Guard, I'm going to find the kid and bring him to his senses."

  Billie stared at the ceiling above her bed. He cared about her, but he hadn't mentioned love. "I need time alone."

  "Are you waiting for me to tell you I love you?" he asked, feeling as though she were expecting him to go out on an emotional limb when she had never once given him any indication of her own feelings. The words had never come easy for him, and he didn't want to say them unless he was certain.

  "I most certainly am not waiting for you to tell me that," she lied. "I don't expect either of us to have fallen in love this quickly. What we have here is a serious case of lust, nothing more."

  Nick felt his shoulders sag. Lust? Is that all Billie felt for him? He had felt that way about a lot of women, none of whom he had considered spending his life with. Even with Sheridan his emotions had been different from how he felt about Billie. Billie Pearce, whether she knew it or not, had been giving him large doses of his own medicine.

  Nevertheless, he had no intention of letting her go. "Just let me say this," he began. "I'm a man accustomed to getting what I want, and I want you. I don't care what it takes to have you. If you want to be properly courted, okay. I will wine and dine you and, hell, whatever it takes, but in the end, I'm going to have you, even if it means, um, you know." He had trouble saying the word. "Marriage."

  He stepped close and kissed her on the nose.

  "Don't worry about the kids. I'm great with kids." Even as he said it, Nick wondered if it were true. The closest he'd ever come to dealing with a kid was Max, and he didn't seem any closer to mending the relationship than he had been two weeks ago.

  Billie felt the panic rise from her chest. "I can't discuss this right now."

  "We have to at some point." Yet, he didn't feel any more prepared for the discussion than she did. Wanting her and marrying her were two different things. And there were children involved. Not to mention a dog and a cat. Hell, it felt as though he were taking on an entire city. If only they could have a trial run. But he knew she would punch him in the face if he suggested they live together.

  "I need time to think," she said. "Why don't you come to dinner Sunday? We can talk some more then."

  "Okay," he said. "Right now, I need to get home and see if there's been a Max sighting."

  * * * * *

  Billie looked at the dining room table and decided it was satisfactory. Lace tablecloth, good china, pretty candlesticks, and her mother's linen napkins folded just so. She straightened a fork and a crystal goblet and took a step backward.

  Joel stood beside her in the neat slacks and starched cotton shirt he'd worn to church. It was obvious he wanted to get into his play clothes. "You think this guy's worth all this
fuss?" he asked, tugging at his collar.

  "It's not just for Nick. It's Sunday, and I thought it would be good to have a nice family dinner."

  "Are you going to marry him?"

  "It's too soon to think about marriage."

  "Then how come you haven't called Grandma back?"

  "I did call her back. I left a message, remember?" Billie had taken the coward's way out and called that morning when she knew her parents would be attending the early church services. She'd left a message that the marriage thing was a misunderstanding and she would call them in a few days. Knowing what penny-pinchers her parents were, she suspected they'd wait for her call instead of putting additional charges on their phone.

  She had never felt so stressed. She cared deeply about Nick, but she wasn't going to let that sway her. She had no intention of following in the footsteps of Deedee and engaging in an endless procession of short-term marriages. This next marriage was for keeps. Husband number two was going to be reliable, mature, and monogamous, and he wouldn't come with a lot of baggage, including an ex-fiancee who obviously wanted him back.

  "I guess Nick isn't so bad," Joel said after a moment, "but Frankie would have been better. Is Frankie coming to dinner?"

  Billie tried to imagine Nick in flannel boxer shorts and couldn't. "Frankie and Deedee are gone for the day," she said. "Nick is the only one I invited."

  Christie passed by the dining room on her way outdoors. "I invited Lisa Marie to dinner. Is that okay?

  She's going to scope out Nick for us. She's had lots of practice, since her mom has been married several times."

  "Wonderful. Only next time I'd appreciate it if you'd ask in advance." Billie went to the kitchen to get another plate. "Anything else I should know?"

  "Buffy threw up on the couch. I think it's because she ate Deedee's eyelash. Buffy probably thought it was a spider."

  Joel wrinkled his nose and curled his upper lip. "Gross!"

  "We only have about a million spiders running around this house," Christie complained. "It's so disgusting. I'm almost embarrassed to invite my friends over."