Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1) (16 page)

A
s they drove
from Micky's house to the uptown neighborhood near the arena, a bit of freezing rain started to fall, and Micky settled back into the warmed passenger seat of Nick's Mercedes.

"Do you have a suite at the AAC?"

"No, no. The firm does, and I can occasionally get tickets. I have season tickets, but not in the suite. When I take my nieces, I try to get in the suite and sell my seats. They like going to the games, but I can't say that they can pay full attention for three plus hours. This way, they can run around a bit or maybe watch something else on one of the TVs."

"You sound like everyone's favorite uncle. That must be nice to have some kids in your life. I need to start bugging my brother about kids."

"I'm sure he'd love that. You should let him get down the aisle first, or work on having them yourself."

"Yeah. I could focus on my own life, but that wouldn't drive him crazy."

"Is that the sole purpose of having sisters in your life? Mine is the same way. Although, it's my mom who bugs me about having kids."

"At least she has some grandchildren already. My mom has none," Micky noted. "And I hear about it."

Nick pulled into the parking garage near the arena, and they walked to Victory Grill, just a block away. Even though Micky had her heavy coat, she shivered a little as temperatures continued to drop. Nick moved from her right to her left side, blocking the some of the wind, and put his arm around her. She scooted as close to him as possible. Once inside and seated, they kept talking and ordered appetizers and drinks.

"You don't talk much about your parents. Do you see them often?"

"I see my mother a few times a year, and we talk on the phone. She lives in Scottsdale. My dad splits his time between Houston, Miami, and whatever new adventure is capturing his attention. Over the summer, I think he was in Bali."

"You lose track of where he is?"

Micky shrugged. "He was supposed to be here to meet Clarissa's parents. He said he was coming a couple of weeks ago. Not sure what came up, but he called Pete and told him he couldn't make it. It's too bad, but not surprising. He's not a bad guy. He just lives by the seat of his pants. We've learned to just enjoy him when we see him. He is a lot of fun."

"Must be nice to have the kind of job where you can travel and not be chained to a desk. What does he do?"

Micky just laughed. "Pete Llewellyn Sr. doesn't work per se. He has an inheritance from his father, and he's worked in real estate and does some investing. He basically manages the estate he inherited. Honestly, now that we're grown and he's not paying child support, I don't know that he has a lot of expenses. Other than the travel, he lives pretty simply in properties that my grandfather owned."

"That's nice if you can swing it," Nick said with an edge in his voice.

"I'm not sure it is. I know he sounds like a trust fund baby with Peter Pan syndrome. Maybe he is." He'd never had to work and, consequently, never had to grow up. Even after having children, he maintained a free and easy lifestyle with few entanglements. "It's one of the reasons Pete and I hang together."

"It's great that you and Pete have each other," Nick remarked. "I take it the proposal went well. Has your brother set a date yet?"

"It was beautiful. I never thought my brother could be so romantic. They're completely in love." Micky sounded wistful even to her own ears. She cleared her throat. "I can't wait for the wedding. They're targeting next fall. I love weddings. The ceremony, the flowers. Sorry, I know you had your own wedding planned."

"It's fine," Nick said and took a swig of his beer. "I wouldn't have figured you for such a romantic."

"I have my moments. Plus, I love a good party," Micky added. "What about your family? Your sister's name is Amy, right?"

"Yes. Amy Carrera. She's my big sister. She married her husband James about ten years, or a little longer at this point. He will be there tonight. I actually knew James first and introduced them. Now they have two girls—Alice and Natalie. I should warn you, Alice is over the moon about meeting you. Natalie can't wait to see you again. They have thoughts of making sure I still have a wedding next summer."

"I see. Your cancelled engagement."

"Yes. I told them you and I are just friends."

"A friend? Is that what this is?" Micky raised her eyebrows.

"That's as much as I care to share with children, or with my mother. She'll be equally curious, but she's not coming tonight. I thought I'd spare you the full Halden experience."

"Friend is good. I can be your friend." Micky laughed, picked up her martini glass, and winked at Nick. "A toast. To being friends."

"You're a smart ass as well as a romantic. I like it." Nick obliged her, picking up his glass and leaning closer. "To friendship. Sexy, inappropriate, benefit-laden friendship."

"That's the best kind of friendship." Micky toasted Nick again.

"As much as I enjoy the direction this conversation has taken, we should get going. I told my sister I'd meet her at the south entrance at seven. Shall we?" He flagged down the waiter for the check.

After settling the tab, they walked outside and a cold blast of air slammed into them. Nick and Micky hustled down the street to the arena. The sidewalk was starting to get slick, and Micky stumbled a couple of times, only to be caught by Nick and pulled in even closer, her face in his neck.

The warmth emanating from his body made her grateful for the cold weather. He smelled cleanly of soap and sandalwood. When they rounded the corner to the south side of the arena, Nick kept a firm arm around her and soon they both heard, "Uncle Nick! Uncle Nick!"

A pair of dark-haired little girls with matching hot pink knit caps came running toward them with a tall, slender brunette trailing behind them. As they came close, Micky noticed the woman had the same clear green eyes and bright smile as Nick—only in a feminine package.

"Hi! You must be Micky." Amy extended her hand.

"And you must be Amy," Micky replied, taking the woman's outstretched hand. In a nanosecond, the slightly taller of the two girls turned toward Micky. The girl looked at her intensely with curious chocolate brown eyes, her gaze traveling from the bright red coat to the riding boots shielding Micky's feet from the cold, wet street.

"Nice boots," the girl observed. "I'm Alice."

"Thank you, Alice. And how are you Natalie?" Micky spoke to the younger girl who was still entwined around Nick's legs and peering up at her with the same dark brown eyes.

"Hi, Micky," Natalie said. "I like your boots, too."

"Hello, Natalie. I love your purple coat. Purple is my favorite color."

"It is? Mine too," Natalie replied, her excitement evident in her voice.

"Okay, well, my husband is going to meet us later. He's coming straight from work, so we can go ahead and go in. His ticket is at will call, right Nick?"

"Yes, and it's getting really cold out here. Why don't we head inside?"

The group traveled
en masse
up the many escalators and elevators to the top floor of luxury suites. Micky had taken clients to events on the suite level of the American Airlines Center before—the difference in the vibe between the lower level and the suites always shocked her.

As they got off the final elevator, the buzz and energy of the main concourse was absorbed by plush carpet in a well-trimmed, oddly quiet hallway. The suites were definitely more comfortable, but not nearly as lively and—in her opinion—fun as the other levels.

Once they arrived at their destination, however, she could totally see why this was the best option for the girls. They immediately strutted into the room and ran up through the suite's sitting area out to the balcony tiered with arena seats overlooking the court where the Dallas Mavericks and the Portland Trailblazers were warming up. They squealed and pointed for a minute or two. Then, they were right back inside, throwing themselves into the big comfy chairs to discuss what they wanted for dinner.

"Uncle Nick, what are we going to eat? I want tacos. Nat wants pizza," Alice announced "Can we get both? What do you want?"

"Micky and I ate already, but we might get something later. You can each get whatever you want," Nick replied.

"Why don't I take you guys to the food stand down the hall, and we'll get dinner," Amy suggested.

"But we want to talk with Uncle Nick," Alice said petulantly.

"You can take the girls to get their food. I can stay here with Amy unless you're afraid she's going to say something embarrassing about you," Micky joked.

"Good idea," Amy said. "You go. Get a burger and fries for me and for James. I'll start thinking of embarrassing stories."

"Very funny." Nick rolled his eyes and grabbed his nieces' hands. "Let's go little ladies."

Once Nick was gone, Amy turned to Micky.

"Nick said he met you at work."

"Sort of. We work in the same building, and he helped me with my car."

"My always gallant brother." Amy grinned. "That's right. He said you work in his building. What do you do?"

"I work at a software company in marketing. It's pretty fun most days, and a lot of long hours there lately."

"Nick told me you are going to Paris for work in a few weeks. That sounds exciting. Do you get to travel often?"

"I do, but not usually overseas. This is my first trip to Paris. All the planning is making me wish I had more than just a week there. I'm staying over for a few extra days, but it's not much," Micky explained.

"My husband and I went to Paris for our honeymoon. We loved it. I keep telling him we should go back."

"Yes, she does, and we will. I promise." A well-dressed, solidly built man with jet-black hair walked up behind Amy and put his arm around her waist. They exchanged a quick kiss.

"James, honey, this is Nick's friend, Micky."

"Hello, hello," James said, shaking Micky's hand. "You're going to France? We loved it. Highly recommended. Very romantic. Amy does keep trying to convince me we can go back now that the kids are older. That probably won't be as romantic as our first trip."

"We can take my mother to babysit," Amy suggested.

"Even less romantic," James teased, laughing. Amy elbowed him in the ribs.

"Funny. No. She can maybe babysit so we can have some alone time."

"That sounds better," James replied.

Micky laughed along with them as they playfully teased each other. Everyone kept pointing out how romantic Paris was, and she wished again she had someone to go with her like Taryn did.

An image of Nick and her strolling down a Parisian boulevard popped in Micky's head. She imagined him pulling her close in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower and kissing her neck. She would slip her fingers through his hair and press herself against his tall, muscular frame. She smiled at the thought—the way his body would feel, the way he would smell.

Micky snapped back to the scene in front of her. "I'm looking forward to my trip even if it's for work. I'll just have to make sure it's not the last time I go."

"How did you and Nick meet?" James asked.

"My battery died in the parking garage at work, and Nick helped me out so I wouldn't have to wait for the auto club. We've stayed in touch. It was nice of him to invite me to the game."

Micky felt awkward since she and Nick did barely know each other. There wasn't much else to say about their relationship. She wasn't even sure it was a relationship at this point. The feelings she had for him were springing up faster than she knew how to manage.

"It's good that he's getting out again after the whole Vivienne fiasco," James commented. Amy gave her husband another elbow. The word "fiasco" piqued her interest, but she didn't want to press. The person to ask was Nick, but no way she wanted to exchange war stories.

She hadn't broached the subject of his previous relationship and whatever story there was there—mostly because she didn't want to have to exchange stories. How could she tell him she had been having an affair with a married man? Even with the extenuating circumstances, Micky couldn't squelch her embarrassment.

"The game will be starting in a minute. We should get drinks. Aren't there usually beers in the mini fridge? Do you want a beer?" Amy asked, stepping out of James' embrace and crossing the suite to the small refrigerator tucked under a counter with a basket of chips and packages of cookies. "Oh, there's a bottle of red wine in here, too."

"Wine sounds good," Micky agreed. She could easily accept the change of topic.

James opened the bottle of wine and began pouring glasses for all of them just as Nick and the girls returned with trays of food, a vodka martini for Micky, and a whisky for Nick.

"I take it my sister has regaled you with all of the sad tales of my childhood," Nick said, walking to Micky's side and casually wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Every point of contact—his arm and each one of his fingers—unfurled a wave of heat in her body. Her reaction to his presence never stopped surprising her. She reached up and stroked his hand on her shoulder.

"Nope. Not one embarrassing story. You're going to have to regale me yourself."

"Hmmm. I'll have to think of something. I've always been such the embodiment of cool," Nick said. His sister giggled.

"Please, remember that time in junior high with that girl. What was her name?"

Nick removed his arm from Micky and took a playful swipe at his sister. "Do not tell that story. Leave me with some dignity."

At tip off, Micky and Nick took their drinks and grabbed seats in the front row of the luxury box. James quickly ate his burger so he wouldn't miss any action while his wife supervised the kids, who finished their meals and ran to sit in their box seats.

Micky did her best to follow the back and forth action and keep up with the little understanding she had of the rules. Occasionally, Nick had to explain something to her—like why at the end of the first half the Trailblazers were allowed to shoot free throws for every foul instead just for fouls committed when the players were shooting.