A Love Surrendered Page 8
Annie peeked up at the half curtain of bangs, stomach in a tizzy. “Not too ‘come hither,’ I hope. Steven doesn’t like fast girls.”
Peggy hooked her arm through Annie’s and led her down the street, a throaty giggle on her lips. “The trick with a man like Steven O’Connor,” she said with an air of authority, “is to look ‘fast’ enough to catch his eye, but proper enough to keep him interested. Apparently he’s an old-fashioned guy. Tends to fall for the vamps, but then dumps ’em if they’re too fast, or at least that’s what Joanie said happened with his old girlfriend.”
Maggie? Fast? The notion stung every time Annie heard it, and she suspected and hoped it was Erica and Joanie’s jealousy talking and not the truth. Even so, she was going to have to confide in Peggy that she was Maggie’s sister. Tonight, before they met with the gang. A knot shifted in her throat. “Did you know her? Maggie, I mean?” she whispered.
“Naw,” Peggy said, glancing both ways at the next intersection before dragging Annie across. “But Erica and Joanie did. They were all part of the same crowd from college.”
“It could be a rumor, you know,” Annie said quietly, determined to stick up for her sister. “Erica seems to dislike her a lot, so maybe she spread nasty things about her.”
“Yeah, maybe. Joanie says Erica’s always been crazy for Steven, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” She nodded toward the beach, where the welcoming sounds of music could be heard several blocks away. “Hear that? Joanie says it’ll be crowded because Paul Whiteman is playing.” Her excited chatter continued all the way to the Pier before she halted in front of the dock to pluck Annie’s heels out of Steven’s pockets. She handed them to her friend with a gleam in her eye. “Coat off and heels on, Annie Lou, you’ve got a man to catch.”
Pulse pumping, Annie kicked off her Keds, which Peggy quickly stashed under the pier. She slipped into two-inch heels that boosted her confidence as well as her height, then reluctantly slid Steven’s coat from her shoulders, immediately missing its warmth. Peggy chuckled at wolf whistles from a group of guys passing by, but Annie didn’t dare look, certain her cheeks were aflame. With a roiling in her stomach that rivaled the churn of the bay, she folded Steven’s jacket over her arm and blinked at Peggy, nerves as shaky as her two-inch heels on the cobblestones beneath her.
“So . . . how do I look?” she asked with a crack in her voice.
Peggy laughed and tugged Annie’s sweater a smidge south before delivering a sassy wink. “Like a woman who’s going to steal Steven O’Connor’s heart—and every other guy’s if they’re not careful. Let’s go.”
“Uh, Peg?” Annie stalled, wobbling in place. “I have something I need to tell you.”
“Yeah?” Peggy turned.
“Steven’s old girlfriend?” A lump shifted in her throat as she absently pulled the sweater back up. “She’s my sister.”
Peggy blinked before her eyes flared wide. “Holy smoke, Annie, are you kidding?”
She shook her head, sneaking a peek at Peggy with tented brows. “So, I kind of don’t want anyone to know my name is Kennedy just yet, you know? Especially Steven.” A sigh withered on her lips. “But I’m not real sure how to do that because I don’t want to lie.”
Peggy looped her arm through Annie’s with a wink. “Leave it to me, kiddo,” she said with a grin. “But, wow, if this shocks me, just think what it’s going to do to Steven.”
“Yeah, I know.” Annie gave her a weak smile. “But for now it’s our secret, okay?”
“You bet,” Peggy said with a chuckle. “Heaven knows I’m a sucker for surprises.” She towed Annie down the ramp, and the moment they stepped in the ballroom, the magic was back, causing Annie’s stomach to whirl as much as the couples on the floor. She followed behind Peggy, inching through a crowd that shimmered with excitement like the mirror ball overhead.
“You made it,” Joanie said when they reached the table. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“Sorry, Annie’s aunt doesn’t approve,” Peggy explained, pulling chairs out for them both, “so she has to wait till she’s asleep to sneak out.”
“Well, I sure approve,” Joanie said with a quick scan of Annie’s outfit. She spotted Steven’s coat draped over Annie’s arm. “Hey, what’s that?”
“Oh, Steven lent Annie his coat to keep warm while he walked her home last week,” Peggy said effortlessly, sliding into a chair next to Erica while Annie followed suit.
“Gotta hand it to you, Peg, the kid looks like a new woman, don’t you think, guys?” Joanie glanced over at Joe, Stan, and two other men who were staring so blatantly, more heat swarmed Annie’s cheeks.
Joe winked, his ready smile putting her at ease. “You bet—you look gorgeous, Annie. How ’bout a Dr Pepper? And, Peg, Coca-Cola?”
“Thanks, Joe, I’d love one,” Annie said.
“Oooo, me too, Agent Walsh.” Peggy gave him a playful bat of her eyes.
“Got it. Coca-Cola for Miss Pankow and Dr Pepper for Miss . . .” He grinned. “Say, Annie, I don’t believe we know your last name.”
“Annie hails from the Martins of Beacon Hill, don’t you know,” Peggy said smoothly, her snooty tease sidestepping the Kennedy name without a twitch of an eye. “She lives with her aunt, Eleanor Martin.”
Annie gulped, uneasy with deception, but grateful she’d confided in Peggy. So, not a lie exactly . . . Her palms began to sweat. More like an assumption that I’ll correct soon enough.
“Well, then, Miss Martin,” Joe said with broad smile, “one addiction coming right up.”
He disappeared and Joanie introduced the other two men as Allan and Mark, friends of Joe’s. Annie smiled shyly, then nodded at Ashley and Erica.
“You certainly clean up well,” Erica said with grudging respect. “Nice job, Peg.”
“Thanks,” Peggy said with pride, “but it wasn’t hard with those cheekbones and body.” She glanced around. “So . . . where’s Steven?” she asked in an innocent tone.
Heat suffused Annie’s cheeks at the mere mention of his name.
Erica’s coffee-colored eyes narrowed to feline mode. “Out there,” she said, her voice and gaze noticeably sharp, “with some bimbo.”
Annie fingered Steven’s coat, refusing to glance in the direction Erica had indicated.
“Come on, Erica, the man’s been out of commission for a long time now,” Allan said with a chuckle. “Let him have a little fun, will you?”
Her lips slanted into a tease as she took a slow sip of her drink. “Believe me, I’m trying.”
Allan stood and extended his hand with a grin. “Care to make the man jealous?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” she drawled, standing up to smooth a silk dress that hugged generous curves before it flared midcalf. Fingers linked, they disappeared into the crowd.
Stan ushered Ashley to the floor and Joanie left with somebody Annie didn’t know. Mark smiled at Peggy. “You game, Peg?”
“Sure thing!” Peggy bounced up as Joe returned. “Hey, Joe, Annie needs a partner.”
Joe set the drinks down. “Sure. What d’ya say, Annie? I promise to stay off your toes.”
She laughed, thinking if she ever had a brother, he’d probably look like Joe with his freckles and country-boy good looks. “I seem to remember you being pretty light on your feet, Agent Walsh,” she said, laying Steven’s coat down on the seat of her chair.
On the floor, Joe took her in his arms with a whirl, his soft crooning to the lyrics making her smile. She released a heady sigh, finding it easy to relax in his hold. “Well, it seems you not only dance well, but you sing well too.”
His chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “I suppose I do have one or two attributes—dancing, singing . . .” He spun her lightly, a glimmer of tease in hazel eyes. “Loyalty to my best friend.” He paused, studying her with a knowing squint and a ghost of a smile. “So . . . why don’t you tell me, Miss Annie Martin,” he said softly, “just what exactly did you do to my partner?”
“I mean,” he said, voice as easy and fluid as his dancing, “seldom have I seen Steven so off his game, so preoccupied, so, well . . . downright surly . . . than after walking you home.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What makes you think it has anything to do with me?”
He laughed again, twirling her in a spin. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the crowbar I needed to pry him away from work tonight when he thought you’d be here?”
“He said that?” The song ended and she blinked, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.
He tucked a finger to her chin with a gentle smile. “Not in so many words, but Steven’s been my best friend since I was five, Annie. I know him better than I know myself. Paul Whiteman’s one of his favorites, so when he hemmed and hawed about tonight, I had a feeling it had something to do with you and the funk he was in after walking you home.”
Her chin inched up. “Yeah? Well, it’s a free country, and I had to return his coat.”
Another song began and Joe tugged her back. “Yeah, I know.” In a graceful move to the music, he tucked his head against hers. “He asked me to pick it up from you tonight.”
His words stabbed. “So why is he here, then?” she asked, her ire keeping up with her hurt.
She sensed his grin over her shoulder. “Because I did what any loyal friend would do when his best buddy is dying on the vine. I lied. Told him you and Peggy wouldn’t be here.”
“Well, he’ll just have to get used to it, then, now won’t he?” Her words came out clipped.
He chuckled. “Steven has trouble getting used to anything out of the norm, I’m afraid . . .” He paused, his next words stealing her wind. “Especially the idea of falling for a kid like you.”
She jerked back, mouth so dry her voice was a croak. “W-what?”
A grin eased across his lips. “I think he likes you, Annie, a lot. Don’t know what you did to the man when he walked you home, but the guy who came back here was in a royal snit. He’s been a bear all week at work and then refuses to come see his favorite band until I tell him you won’t be here.” He pulled her into a spin that made her dizzy, both in her head and her heart, then gave her a slow wink. “So you figure it out, kid.”
Her mind whirled along with her feet as he spun her on the floor, a heady giggle bubbling in her chest. A ball of jitters rolled in her throat as she stared. “But, how do we know for sure?”
The music ended, but Joe didn’t release her. “We test our theory.”
“How?” she asked, her breathing as ragged as her pulse.
He leaned close. “Well, he was in a great mood when we got here. How’s he look now?”
Her gaze flitted over Joe’s shoulder to where Steven sat with a scowl on his handsome face, and joy fizzed inside like a warm Dr Pepper. A giggle broke free as she nestled her head beneath Joe’s. “Like he did with Brubaker last week.”
“Thought so,” Joe said, his laughter low as he swept the back of her sweater. “I can feel holes burning in the back of my head.” He squeezed her shoulders and pulled away. “So, Annie Martin, you willing to smoke him out, get him to admit his true feelings?”
She couldn’t help it. She launched into Joe’s arms and gave him a ferocious hug. “Oh, Joe, yes, yes, a hundred times yes! I’m crazy for the guy, so I’ll do anything.” She hesitated, her smile fading as she squinted up with curious eyes. “But why are you doing this?” she whispered.
He gave her nose a gentle tap. “Because I love Steven like a brother, and I’d give my right arm to see him happy again.” He cocked his head, his expression as reflective as hers. “And something inside tells me you’d be good for him, Annie Martin.”
Blood flooded her cheeks. Kennedy, she thought with a shift of her throat, wondering if Joe would feel the same if he knew.
“Come on, kid.” He looped an arm to her waist. “Let’s go poke a stick at the grizzly.”
4
I’m gonna kill him. Steven jerked his tie off, fumbling with the top two buttons of his white dress shirt as he seared his best friend with a look as deadly as the gun strapped beneath his vest. Grinding his jaw, he rolled the sleeves of his shirt with a vengeance. What the devil did Joe think he was doing? She was just a kid.
His anger surged. Yeah, right. Only the “kid” was nowhere in sight, obviously lost inside a body that spiked Steven’s temperature more than the fury scorching his neck. He tried not to stare, but his gaze had a mind of its own, traveling from strawberry-blonde curls skimming her shoulders, down a turquoise sweater that molded to every curve. His eyes traced the slender lines of a pencil skirt leading to beautiful legs that tripled his pulse. Jaw tight, he scanned up to a face flushed with embarrassment, judging from fingers that nervously tugged at the V of her sweater. She avoided his gaze, and her lowered lids revealed the longest lashes he’d ever seen, making her appear demure and deadly at the same time. Older yet somehow still innocent, invoking a deep-seated urge to rip the tonsils from his best friend’s throat.
“Look who’s here, O’Connor,” Joe said with an easy smile and a hand to the kid’s waist. “Your damsel in distress. Only tonight it’s my turn to look out for her.”
“Hi, Steven,” she whispered, her breathless voice only irritating him further. She bent to retrieve his stolen jacket from her chair, hand splayed to her neckline in a futile attempt to cover a cleft in her breasts. She held his coat out with a repentant smile. “I forgot to give this back last week. Hope it wasn’t an inconvenience.”
An inconvenience? Yeah, but not the coat. He snatched it from her a little too abruptly, forcing his lips into a tight smile. “No problem,” he said, fisting it in his hands. His face suddenly wrinkled as he paused to sniff the jacket. “What the devil did you do, sleep in it?”
“You should be so lucky,” Peggy said with a grin.
A healthy shade of rose stained the kid’s cheeks as she chewed on a pink lower lip. “Sorry,” she muttered self-consciously. “It’s called Tabu.”
How appropriate. His lips twisted as he slung the coat over his chair. “Yeah, well, thanks. I’m sure I’ll be a hit at the office.”
“Watch your manners, O’Connor, will ya?” Joe sat and took a drink of his Coca-Cola, eyeing Steven over the rim. “What’s eating you, anyway? You were in a great mood when we got here tonight. Now you look like you just picked a fight with Brubaker.”
Close. He singed Joe with a look and a curt nod toward the veranda. “Got a minute?”
The band started and a lazy grin curled on Joe’s lips. “Yeah, right after I dance with Annie again.” He winked at the kid. “What d’ya say, beautiful?”
She shot up faster than a Roman candle at a Revere Beach Fourth of July. “You bet,” she said with a high-voltage smile that would have melted Steven’s wiring if fury hadn’t fried it first. He glared when she closed her eyes to sway. “ ‘Three Little Words’ is one of my favorite songs.”
Steven’s fist clenched along with his teeth. I’ll give you “three little words,” he thought with a scowl. Leave. Her. Alone.
“Great.” Joe strolled over to push the kid’s chair in, then grabbed her hand with a grin over his shoulder. “Hold that thought, will you, O’Connor? We’ll be right back.”
Steven clamped Joe’s arm. “How about I hold my temper instead, and we talk now?”
Joe grinned. “Sorry, Annie, best not to cross him when he gets like this. Rain check?”
“Sure,” she said, and Steven bristled when she lifted on tiptoe to kiss Joe on the cheek. He prodded his partner toward the veranda with no little force.
Barely outside the door, Joe spun around and pushed back. “What the heck is wrong with you? You’re acting like a moron.”
Steven shoved him hard and several couples scattered away from the railing where sparks of moonlig
ht glittered on the water, not unlike the anger in Joe’s eyes. “Yeah, well, at least I’m not acting like Brubaker, trying to take advantage of a kid.”
Joe propped arms low on his hips. “She’s almost eighteen, Steven. Besides . . .” He hesitated before giving a sly wink. “One look will tell ya she’s no kid, if you know what I mean.”
Steven rammed him so fast, Joe never saw it coming. He staggered back and hit the ground, lunging up with eyes blazing. “I knew it! You have a thing for her, don’t you?”
Joe’s words slammed like a fist, and Steven felt the blow clear to his gut. He stood there heaving, hands clammy and mind numb that he’d just struck his best friend. He shook his head, as if to clear the fog in his brain. “Look, Joe, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“Well, I do.” Joe flexed his fingers, eyes as thin as his patience. “You like the kid, O’Connor, why don’t you just admit it?” A smirk lined his lips just like in the fifth grade when Steven had a crush on Marella Smith. “I knew if I made a play for her, you’d tip your hand.”
“What are you talking about?” Steven groused. “I just don’t like to see anybody take advantage of a nice kid, that’s all.”
“Is it?” Joe exhaled loudly and folded his arms. “Okay, you’re right, she is a nice kid . . . and smart and sweet and incredibly pretty, which is exactly why you need to take a second look.”
Steven’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“You heard me. I think she’d be good for you.”
He grunted, fanning fingers through his hair. “Yeah, no doubt about that, but it’s not me I’m worried about, Walsh, it’s her.”