Читать книгу: «Her Best Man»

Chapter One

Four years later

The woman of his dreams was tall, slender and dark haired. Her back was turned to him as she stared out onto the ocean, giving him a mouthwatering view of shapely curves outlined in a sexy red dress. A light breeze softened the air, molding the silky material to her body.

Alex firmly believed he’d died and had gone to heaven. If not heaven, then surely he was in paradise.

Impatiently, he reached out, anxious to learn the identity of his dream woman. His fingers grazed the smooth skin of her shoulder, sending shock waves of awareness tripping through his body. And—

A bell rang.

The woman’s image faded.

Alex moaned, fighting to hold on to the remnants of sleep. He hit the Snooze button on his clock radio. Once again, quiet descended upon his bedroom. With a sigh, he snuggled under the covers for another ten minutes of ecstasy.

The dark-haired enchantress resurfaced in his mind’s eye and...the bell rang, again.

Not the radio, he realized. The phone was ringing.

Grumpily, Alex pried open his eyes and squinted at the clock radio. It was 6:00 a.m. Who in their ever-loving mind would be calling him at this hour?

Another ring.

Alex growled and yanked the receiver from its cradle, effectively stopping the shrill peal. “Speak to me,” he mumbled as he closed his eyes and drifted back into oblivion.

“Alex?”

The woman of his dreams now had a voice. A vaguely familiar, sweet and sexy voice. The rich, velvety timbre reminded him of melt-in-your-mouth chocolate fudge. Alex licked his lips at the thought.

“Alex?” A trace of impatience this time. “Are you there?”

The woman of his dreams had a face. A perfect oval-shaped face with patrician features. Her eyes were the color of smooth, rich caramels, with only a touch of sadness tinging the mix. Her nose was pert and slightly upraised, as though she were ready to challenge his integrity. Smart girl. Her mouth...her mouth was like a strawberry, plump and ripe and ready for the picking.

His empty stomach growled a hungry protest.

“Alex, wake up!”

Startled, Alex sat up straight, knocking the bedcovers aside. Cold air hit his passion-aroused bare skin. He shivered in response. Just a dream, he told himself, shaking off the remnants of sleep. A dream that had been occurring much too often. What had been denied him in waking moments, his subconscious seemed bent on allowing him in slumber.

The woman of his dreams was Lindsey Richards, his best friend’s wife.

“Lindsey?” he croaked, wincing at the strained sound of his voice.

“I was just about ready to give up on you, Alex,” she said with an impatient breath.

Guilt lodged in his throat as he recalled his wanton dream and the major role his friend’s wife had almost played in it. He swallowed hard. “Don’t do that, Lindsey. You know I’m always here for you. Anytime you need me.”

“I know that, Alex.” Her tone softened. “You’ve been—” She paused, her voice catching. “You’ve been very good to me. More than I deserve—”

“Don’t start that again.” He scowled. They’d had this discussion before. It had happened with an annoying frequency in the past two years since Danny Richards had been tragically killed in a traffic accident. “I’ve told you before, we’re friends.” Though, if repressed desires had anything to do with it... He allowed the thought to go unfinished. “Friends look out for each other.”

“I know that, Alex, but—” She gasped. “Goodness, what am I thinking? I forgot to ask. Is this a good time to talk? Or am I, uh, interrupting something?”

He feigned ignorance. “You mean, other than my getting a full night’s sleep?”

“No, Alex, that’s not what I mean.” The impatience was back again. Alex could almost imagine her raising that pert little nose of hers. “I meant... are you alone?”

A blush probably accompanied that last hushed question. Alex couldn’t help but smile. For a woman who’d been married and had given birth to a child, she was such an innocent.

“Hold on. Let me check.” Alex took the opportunity to pull the wayward covers back up to his waist. Then, stacking his hands beneath his head and cradling the phone against his shoulder, he settled back onto the bed. “Nope, no one under these covers but little ol’ lonesome me.”

“Good,” she said, sounding relieved. Alex raised a curious brow, wondering if she were relieved that they were free to talk or that she’d found him alone in his bed. Before he could ask, she continued, “I wanted to catch you before you went to work. Do you remember what day it is today?”

“Jeez, Lindsey. Do you have to give me a pop quiz at six o’clock in the morning?”

“Alex—”

“All right, all right...let’s see, well, it’s Friday. The third week in November. Thanksgiving’s less than a week away. And—wait, I know there’s something else—ah, yes, it’s my godson’s birthday.”

“You remembered,” she said, unable to keep the pleasure from her voice.

“How could I forget?” He chuckled. “Jamie’s been reminding me of the upcoming event every time I’ve seen him in the last two months.”

James Daniel Richards was the spitting image of his father. A towheaded hellion with an angel’s smile. He had everyone who loved him wrapped around his chubby little finger. Alex included.

“Which brings me to the reason I called,” she said, her discomfort obvious.

Warning signals prickled his skin. He waited.

“Alex, I don’t want you to feel obligated to come tonight.”

He sat up in bed again, nearly dropping the phone in his haste. “Lindsey—”

She wouldn’t let him finish. “Hear me out, Alex. Jamie’s been a little overly enthusiastic about his birthday. Turning three’s an important step. When you’re three, you’re officially old enough to go to preschool. And chances are good that you’re going to make a real haul with all those birthday presents.” She stopped rambling long enough to suck in a deep breath. He could almost see the tiny furrow forming between her dark brows, the one she always got whenever she was feeling pensive. “The thing is, Alex, I’m sure you have better things to do with your time than spend a Friday night at a three-year-old’s birthday party.”

“Such as?” he demanded, his grip tightening around the receiver.

“Well...a date, for instance.”

“You think I’d rather go on a date than attend my only godson’s birthday party,” he said, his voice low and deceptively even. Anger simmered beneath the surface of his calm demeanor. “Just what kind of godfather do you think I am?”

“You’re a wonderful godfather,” she assured him. “Too wonderful. That’s the problem. What with work and your busy social life—”

“Busy social life?” Was that a note of jealousy he’d detected in her tone? Nah, he assured himself, just wishful thinking on his part. “What busy social life?” “Oh, Alex, really,” she said, laughing.

He felt his defenses kicking in. “All right, maybe I go out on a few dates—”

“A few? Tell me, Alex, is there any woman over the age of eighteen in St. Louis that you haven’t dated?”

Though her tone was teasing, the question caught him off guard. So he went out on a few dates—okay, a lot of dates. Who could blame a man for trying to drown his sorrows in female companionship? Especially since the only woman he’d ever really wanted thought of him as nothing more than a good friend.

“Now, look, Lindsey—”

“I know, I know, your personal life is your own business.” Lindsey sighed. “I never meant to criticize you. All I wanted to say was that, with everything else you have going on, I don’t know how you find so much time to spend with Jamie. It’s too much.”

“I can handle it,” he growled, finding his voice.

“Alex, Danny wouldn’t expect you—”

“It’s settled, Lindsey,” he said in a tone that would brook no further argument. “I’m not skipping out on my godson’s birthday party. Now what time should I be there?”

She hesitated. Then, in a resigned tone, said, “Seven o’clock. I’m afraid to make it any later. Or the guest of honor will be nodding off before he gets to open his presents.”

“Seven o’clock will be fine,” he said firmly.

“Alex, are you sure—”

“Lindsey, give me a break. It’s too early for an argument. I haven’t even had a cup of coffee yet.”

He heard her soft sigh, a whispery breath across the phone line. “All right, Alex. I’ll see you tonight.”

“G’bye, Lindsey.”

He waited, listening for the click of her phone to disconnect before he hung up the receiver. Once she was gone, the bedroom felt too quiet, too empty. He laid back on his bed and brooded over his conversation with Lindsey.

“Stubborn, fool woman,” he muttered to the four walls. “She has enough to worry about. She doesn’t need to add my social life to the list.”

As usual, when it came to dealing with Lindsey, his anger quickly dissipated. These past two years hadn’t been easy for her, he reminded himself. Danny’s death had been unexpected. His loss was a devastating blow for all of them. For Lindsey, most especially.

She wasn’t prepared, financially or emotionally, for the unspeakable. Typical of Danny, he’d believed himself to be invincible. He hadn’t bothered with life insurance and he’d just socked away most of their savings in a down payment on a house, a rambling, old fixer-upper in Kirkwood. The house had great potential, a big yard, lots of room, a perfect home for a growing family. But it was also a money pit. Something always needed to be repaired. After Danny’s death, Lindsey had been left scrambling to make ends meet.

Not that she would have admitted any of this to him.

The only way he’d found out about her monetary problems was through her brother, Rick. Alex’s offer of financial assistance had been graciously yet firmly turned down. Instead, Lindsey chose to work two jobs on top of raising her son, just so she wouldn’t lose the house that she held in loving tribute to her late husband.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that he refused to attribute to jealousy. Long ago, Alex had accepted that any romantic feeling he may have toward Lindsey was merely an exercise in futility. Lindsey had loved Danny. She still loved him very deeply. Their being apart was a tragedy. Besides, how could he be jealous of his best friend, a man who’d been cheated out of the best years of his life?

Alex shifted uncomfortably in his bed. Lindsey might be too stubborn to accept a simple loan of money—a loan that he could well afford to make—but he’d be damned if his moral support would be brushed aside with as much ease. As long as Lindsey and his godson needed him, he intended to be there for them.

It was the least she could do for the widow of his best friend.

The phone rang again.

Alex glared at the instrument. Lindsey, again. She’d probably thought of a new excuse why he shouldn’t bother attending his own godson’s birthday party. He snatched the phone from its cradle.

“You know, it’s a good thing I don’t have a woman in bed with me this morning,” he growled. “I’d have a hell of a time explaining all these phone calls if I did.”

Dead silence met his terse greeting.

Then, after a discreet clearing of a feminine throat, an older woman’s voice responded, “Well, Alex, thank you for sharing that bit of information with me. I’m not sure whether I should be relieved or disappointed.”

“Mom?” Alex moaned as he thunked a hand against his forehead.

“Obviously, you were expecting someone else.”

“Yes, I mean... no. Mom, do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Yes, dear. It’s ten minutes after seven in the morning.”

“Seven o’clock Florida time, Mom. It’s only six here.”

“I know that, dear. I didn’t want to miss you before you left for work.” Her dismissive tone grated against Alex’s nerves.

“I wanted to talk to you about next weekend. Remember? The wedding? You are coming, aren’t you?”

“Of course, I’m coming. My baby sister’s getting married. Did you think I’d miss it?”

“Well, I know how busy you and Jon have been lately.” She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “I still don’t understand why you and Jon needed M.B.A.s to sell tennis shoes. But your father assures me you’re both doing fine, and I shouldn’t worry.”

They were doing more than fine. Lobo Shoes, the company he and Jon had founded shortly after graduating from college, was the fastest growing athletic shoe company on the market. It wouldn’t be long before. they’d be giving Reebok and Nike a run for their money, no pun intended.

“Look, Mom—”

She never gave him a chance to finish. “I’ve been trying to get hold of Jon, but no one’s answering at his house.”

Alex sighed. “Jon’s out of town. We’re expanding into the West Coast market. He’s making sure things go smoothly. I’m sure Jon said he’d be flying in with Rachel on Thursday for the wedding.”

“And how about you, Alex? Will you be bringing anyone to the wedding? Anyone special?”

He grimaced at her hopeful tone. “No, Mom.”

“Alex,” she said, her disappointment obvious. “Your brother’s been married almost five years. Now, even your younger sister is getting married. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped this galavanting around and found yourself a nice girl to settle down with?”

Alex groaned. First Lindsey. Now his mother. Why was everyone suddenly so concerned about his social life?

At six o’clock in the morning, however, Alex wasn’t up to an argument with his mother. “Yeah, Mom, maybe someday,” he sighed. “Just as soon as I meet the right woman—”

“Alexander Hale Trent, you’ve been avoiding the marriage altar for so long, you wouldn’t recognize the right woman if she were standing under your own nose.”

Alex gritted his teeth.

She continued. “Now, there’ll be plenty of eligible young women at the wedding. Do you remember Rosemary Plinkton? Stephanie’s maid of honor? Her friend from college? She isn’t married and she’s such a sweet young thing. I’m sure you two will hit it off just fine—”

“Mom, don’t even consider trying any matchmaking during the wedding.” He assumed his most threatening tone. “Or I swear, it’ll be the last time you’ll see me in Florida.”

“Oh, pooh,” she said, not in the least bit intimidated. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re awfully grumpy in the morning?”

Alex stifled a groan. “Mom, I’ve got to get ready for work.”

“Of course, Alex,” his mother trilled. “I’ll see you on Wednesday. Have a wonderful day!”

The phone line clicked. Slowly, Alex returned the receiver to its cradle, staring at the instrument in disbelief. Had it really been only ten minutes ago when he’d been sound asleep in his bed, not a care in the world, enjoying what promised to be the most erotic dream of his life? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Since awakening, he’d gotten into a disagreement with one of his best friends. And his mother had called to make her intentions clear. She was determined to see to it that the last of her unmarried children bit the matrimonial bullet.

Alex growled as he tossed the covers aside and pushed himself out of bed. A hell of a way to start out the morning. How could the day get any worse?

How could the day get any worse?

Lindsey Richards stared at the mess in her workroom and felt an overwhelming urge to cry. Spools of thread had been pulled from their racks. Yards and yards of the bright-colored strands were strewn about in jumbled heaps on the floor. Beads and bangles, all essential parts of her tassel-making craft business, glittered on the carpet like tiny jewels.

In the middle of this chaos sat the birthday boy himself, her three-year-old son, Jamie.

“James Daniel Richards,” she began, struggling to control her temper. “What do you think you’re doing in here?”

He looked up at her with his big blue eyes and said, “Playing.”

“Where’s your uncle Rick? He’s supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

Jamie pointed a chubby finger toward the family room, where the sound of a football game playing on the TV filtered down the hall. Rick, her usually reliable brother. Lindsey sighed. These past few weeks the change in him seemed so daunting. He’d become moody and withdrawn, unwilling or unable to talk about the unfortunate incident that very well may have cost him his job. She was at her wit’s end. She just didn’t know how to help him.

“You know you aren’t supposed to be in here,” she reminded her son sternly.

“I’m sorry.” Jamie’s lower lip trembled slightly as he spoke. His eyes filled with unshed tears.

Lindsey’s anger dissolved at the sight. How could she be angry with Jamie today of all days? It was his birthday, after all. She reached out a hand. “Come here.”

Slowly, he untangled himself from a pool of thread and sauntered over to her, scuffing the toes of his tennis shoes on the carpet as he did so. At that moment, he reminded her so much of his father, he nearly took her breath away. Danny, too, had had trouble admitting when he was wrong.

Lindsey brushed the memory from her mind as Jamie took hold of her hand. He wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. She knelt to be at eye level with her young hell-raiser. “Jamie, this is the room where Mommy works. I don’t want you playing in here again, all right?”

He nodded, still unable to meet her gaze.

Glancing at the messy workroom, she sighed. “Give me a hug, honey. I sure could use one about now.”

His face brightening, he wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed with all his might. Despite feeling bone-tired, she couldn’t help but smile. On a day like today, she needed the comfort of a warm, loving body.

“Hey, how about me?” A familiar, deep voice startled them. “Don’t I get a hug, too?”

Alex stood in the hall, not two feet away, watching them with an amused expression on his face.

“Uncle Alex!” His mother forgotten, Jamie threw himself at the new arrival.

Pleasure and guilt warred as she watched Alex scoop the boy into his arms and endure one of Jamie’s bone-cracking hugs. Pleasure because, with Alex and Rick nearby, Jamie never lacked a positive male influence. Guilt because, no matter how much she appreciated it, she had no right to expect Alex’s help.