“I am not going to your reunion.” Brian’s old classmates would take one look at Memphis and remember his highly publicized mistake. The one that had almost killed his friend … “That’s beyond the kind of torture I can take. You’ll have to find someone else for that phase of your plan.”
Kate blew out a breath and eyed him steadily. “One dinner party, two cocktail parties, and the reunion weekend,” she said, going on smoothly. “Brian will be there, and he’s looking forward to seeing you.”
Damn, another low blow. “One reunion event,” he said, hating that he’d caved in the face of her less-than-subtle pressure. “Either Friday or Saturday. Your choice.”
“Deal,” she said, and then her eyes swept down his well-worn jeans. “And I get to select the clothes you wear.”
The grin hit him hard, as did her sweeping gaze. “You got a problem with my wardrobe?”
She lifted a brow. “I remember what you wore after one of my misguided classmates invited you to our prom.”
“Tiffany Bettingfield didn’t mind my faded kakis and athletic shoes. Because after I watched you get crowned Prom Queen alongside your golden-boy Prom King—” his smile crept higher “—Tiffany suggested we head to my car. I was happy to show her that there are more important things about a man than his clothes.”
“Hopefully she’s recovered from her lapse in judgment by now,” she said with a sarcasm that was so smooth he almost missed the tone. “Do we have a deal?”
Despite everything, Memphis was delighted with Kate Anderson’s new spunk wrapped in her usual class. “Deal,” he confirmed. “But just to be clear, I’m doing this for Brian, not you.”
Her lips twisted. “Don’t worry, Memphis. I’m under no illusions you would ever do a favor for me.”
A sliver of anger shot through him, momentarily dimming his good humor. There was a time in his teens when he’d have done anything for Kate, if she’d only hinted that she cared. But those days were long gone, killed in a fateful night that had had far-reaching consequences that neither of them could have predicted.
Her ice-princess behavior and hands-off attitude used to frustrate the hell out of him, but these days things were different. He was certainly done touching Kate, but now he was impressed and intrigued by her cool demeanor and polite facade, especially in the face of their tumultuous past.
Yet a small part of him longed to see her emotional cool crack, just for a moment. And, after their teen years, provoking her was as ingrained as breathing.
“I did you a favor once.” He deliberately turned his voice husky. “Do you remember?”
He took comfort in the slight catch of her breath, a small smile forming on his lips as Kate clearly struggled to remain composed.
“Memphis,” she finally said, recovering her cool and holding his gaze. “That was a long time ago. And even you can’t be so conceited as to think of sex as a favor.”
He studied her for a moment and then he leaned close, inhaling the haunting scent of lavender he’d come to equate with Kate. “Well, it ranked right up there as one of the best nights of my life,” he murmured, and the bitter truth in his teasing words made his smile grow tight. “Right up until I found out you and Dalton were still married.”
CHAPTER TWO
GUILT.
Kate closed her eyes as her heart strained to keep from crumpling under the weight of the emotion. She’d let the feeling drive her back to a marriage that had begun to die long before the night she’d spent in Memphis’s arms. And then she’d let the emotion keep her stuck in her vow of forever well beyond the point where all hope for a happy-from-here-on-out was gone.
But there was only so much guilt a girl could take before she eventually was either permanently crippled by it or finally declared she was moving on. And the time for that was now, if for no other reason than to save her sanity.
She lifted her lids and said the words that were five years overdue. “I’m sorry.”
Too bad the apology didn’t make her feel any better.
“Sorry?” He tipped his head skeptically, as if vaguely amused by her pitiful words. “For which part? For leaving without saying goodbye? Or for me learning the truth from your brother?”
Her heart stopped. “You called Brian?”
“The very next day,” he said. “And in an attempt to figure out what the hell had just happened, I casually asked him how you were doing.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Imagine my surprise when he said you were having marital problems.”
Heart now doing double time, Kate pressed her lips together and blindly turned to look at the dwindling crowd, but she was determined to keep moving forward. Growing up in the spotlight—with every family problem scrutinized by the public in excruciating detail—had taught her to persevere. Pretending everything was okay wasn’t always the best choice, but sometimes it was the only one you had.
“The first function is this weekend.” She faced Memphis again. “We need to make plans.”
He shot her an incredulous look.
“Part of the deal was I’d help you pick out something suitable to wear,” she went on.
After a brief hesitation, his lips twitched. “I’m sure I can find something appropriate in my closet,” he said, the look in his eyes one of pure entertainment.
At her expense, of course.
Clearly her soundness of mind was taking a brief holiday. After all, she’d convinced Memphis to spend the next month helping her. She was going to need a straitjacket before this was over, mostly to keep from pulling her hair out in frustration.
“You forget,” she said, feigning patience. “I’ve seen your idea of appropriate.”
“Fine,” he said, startling her with his easy agreement. Grateful he’d given in so easily, she let her tensed muscles relax, until he jerked his head in the direction of the street. “Let’s go,” he said.
“Where?”
“To check out my wardrobe.”
“Now?” Her heart sank and the tension returned. She hadn’t even begun to recover from seeing him again.
“No time like the present.” He sent her a tiny smile that left her hugely nervous. “You can follow me home and check out the contents of my closet.”
Still questioning her good sense, Kate followed Memphis into the upmarket apartment in an exclusive neighborhood, noting that he was all but ignoring her as she trailed behind him into the kitchen. The lack of attention was a welcome change. He tossed his keys on the kitchen table and turned to lean a hip against the counter, watching her as she assessed what was clearly meant to be temporary living quarters.
In one slow pivot she took in the kitchen and the spartanly furnished living area. A flat-screen TV, a single leather recliner and a side table were the extent of the furniture.
