A little on the wild sid.., p.9
A Little on the Wild Side, page 9
part #3 of Wild Thing Series
Bianca sat strapped in while the plane descended into Boise. How was she supposed to survive three weeks of nonstop Kincaids? Dealing with Trapper was bad enough, but to be stuck with Hunter, Fisher, their wily grandfather—oh, and Karma. God forbid she forgot the vixen who was out for blood. What would Karma think of her now? She didn’t believe it was possible Karma’s opinion of her could get any lower, but if there were a way, getting knocked up by her sainted brother and breaking his nose would probably do the trick. Oh yes, this will be as much fun as a barrel of rabid Madagascar monkeys.
Trapper sat across from her. Staring. Not saying a word. His silence was annoying. Almost as annoying as the way he watched her every move as if she was a human test subject in the midst of an experiment. She didn’t like being on this side of the one-way mirror. And it was like a mirror. Oh, she could see him, but he put on that blank, emotionless face he wore when she’d seen him on the bench.
She couldn’t take it anymore. “Would you stop looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” He moved over to sit beside her, buckled in, and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. “Like I want to strip you naked and lick every inch of you?”
Damn him. He was good. One sentence in his bedroom voice, and her hormones were in a tizzy. “You weren’t looking at me like that. Your face was blank.” She’d seen more expressive mannequins in Macy’s—of course, they weren’t nearly as colorful. He looked like a newbie on the losing side of a DSW shoe sale.
“Did you happen to look at my lap?”
“No.”
“Yeah, well, that’s where you went wrong, babe. We’re not alone. Worse, we’re with my brothers and grandfather. I can hardly give you the I-want-to-do-you-six-ways-from-Sunday look while under close scrutiny, can I?”
“Trapper, I’m here in a plane on my way to Boise. You’ve won. Congratulations. Now leave me alone. I’m not in the mood to be messed with any more than I already have been.”
“You’re accusing me of messing with you? How, exactly?”
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” she whispered. The last thing she wanted was for the rest of the plane’s occupants to overhear this conversation, but she wasn’t about to let it pass. “I might not be a highfalutin judge, but I’m no idiot. I have a mirror. I know what I look like, not to mention what I’ve done to you. I broke your nose.”
“The nose was an accident, but what does that have to do with what you look like?” His voice sounded like gravel, and when she glanced at his face, her heart rate spiked and she did her best to move away. She preferred the blank face to the one she’d caught a glimpse of. By the way his jaw clenched—the muscle twitching beneath his five-o’clock shadow, combined with the popping and throbbing of the veins in his temples—his Pissed-O-Meter had spiked on totally. She’d never seen him this angry. Okay, that wasn’t completely true. Trapper had been plenty pissed when he thought she’d tried to take advantage of his not-so-little brother, but she hadn’t looked closely at him. She’d been too busy dying of embarrassment. Then there was the time she tossed lukewarm, bad coffee in his face, but he looked more amused than angry. No, she didn’t think she’d ever seen Trapper Kincaid lose his temper, but right now, he looked like he was about to.
“If you hit me in the face to stop me from wanting you, sweetheart, you went for the wrong body part. Believe me, all my parts are in working order. My eyes might be black, but I can see just fine, and you look as incredible as ever—plus, you have that whole Madonna thing workin’ for you. Babe, if I wasn’t toast before, I am now.”
“Madonna?”
“Oh yeah. Normal pregnant women are over the top sexy. And then there’s you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t play dumb, Bianca. You and I both know you’re not. Not only are you physically one of the most beautiful women in the world, but your brain is a freakin’ aphrodisiac.”
Bianca had been in the business long enough to know that beauty had a lot more to do with makeup, lighting, and airbrushing than the model. There were makeup artists and photographers who could make even the homeliest person look beautiful. Bianca won the genetic lottery in that she had the height, the build, and the bone structure to model. There were a million other women who had more natural beauty and charm than she could ever claim, and they didn’t have to work for it. She did. For her, beauty and charm didn’t come naturally.
She thought it was just her stomach that dropped. When the wheels of the plane hit the runway, panic seized her. A minute later, everyone was up and moving around the cabin, and then Trapper was hustling her down the steps into a crowd.
Toni was the first person Bianca recognized. Her black hair hanging loose, her clothes less Goth than Bianca remembered, but then she saw her boots. It was good to know that some things stayed the same.
Toni pulled Bianca into a hug, and she was suddenly surrounded by women. “I know you might not be happy to be here, but I’m so glad you are. Let me look at you.” She held her at arm’s length and gave her a once-over, missing nothing. “Wow, you look—”
Karma pushed Toni out of the way. “Like crap. Sorry,” she spoke to the group, “but it’s true.” Karma didn’t look sorry. “Bianca, I never thought I’d say this, but welcome to Boise. It’s really wonderful to see you, and it’s a good thing you’re here, but I’m still gonna kill my brothers for pulling that stunt on you.” She leaned in to whisper in Bianca’s ear, “I’ll give you a crash course on Kincaid male management. I’ll be over tomorrow for your first class.” Then, as if things weren’t surreal enough, Karma pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll make them pay. Leave it all up to me.”
Karma was happy to see her?
“May I?”
Bianca was really confused. “May you what?”
Karma’s green eyes sparkled with undisguised joy. “Those are my nieces you’re carrying, and I heard that pregnant women get a little wigged out when people pat their baby bumps without permission. So I didn’t want to just…you know, reach over and feel your belly, even though I’m just dying to.”
“Your nieces? You’re happy about this? I was afraid that you would…”
Karma smiled at her—something that had never happened before. “You were afraid that I’d what?”
Bianca shook her head, hoping to make sense of Karma’s turnaround. “Never mind.”
“Well, can I?”
Trapper pushed through the women and pulled Bianca against him. “Karma, would you please leave Bianca alone?”
Karma’s gaze went from Bianca’s belly to Trapper’s face, and she burst out laughing. “Oh my God! Did Bianca do that to you?”
Fisher came up beside them and put his arm around a tall brunette. “She sure did. Nice one, huh? She elbowed him in the face and broke his nose.”
All eyes turned to Bianca, and no one but maybe Trapper’s mother looked at all upset. “It was an accident.”
“Sure it was,” Karma said, but her eyes were filled with merriment. “Did anyone get pictures?” She waited a beat. “I didn’t think so.” Karma pulled out her iPhone and snapped one. “Now we’ll have one for posterity.” Karma stared at Bianca’s middle. “You’re not really showing much, are you?” She patted Bianca’s baby bump. “See, girls”—she held up her phone—“Auntie Karma’s already got the goods for your baby books.”
Fisher leaned toward Bianca with a grin as wide as the Mississippi. “Karma, the babies can’t see through the uterus. Bianca, this is my wife, Jessie. Jess, this is Bianca Ferrari.”
Bianca tried to smile at the woman who looked at her with sympathetic eyes.
“Don’t worry, Bianca. You’ll get used to them—eventually. They’re really not as scary as they seem at first. They mean well. Mostly.”
Kate clapped her hands. “Okay. Bianca and Trapper need to get home.”
Everyone moved when this woman spoke. She was like a five-foot-four powerhouse.
“Trapper, I stocked your pantry and fridge with food for you and Bianca.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Kate took both Bianca’s hands in hers. “I hope you’ll be comfortable. If there’s anything you need, just call me. I was deathly ill with the twins for the first five months. I hope your morning sickness will pass too.”
“Thank you. I hope you’re right. I’m almost there.”
Kate gave her hands a squeeze. “I’ll stop by for a visit tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it. I’ll call first, as will anyone who wants to see you.” She turned and met everyone’s eyes. “Is that understood?”
A chorus of “Yes, ma’am” followed.
“Good, then. Fisher and Hunter will bring the luggage. Trapper, why don’t you take Bianca home now and let her get settled?” She hugged Bianca. “There’s soup in the Crock-Pot, dear, whenever you’re up to eating.”
“Thank you.” Bianca didn’t know what was worse, the thought of food, or how nice everyone was being. She was either going to barf or bawl—knowing her, probably both.
Chapter 8
Trapper took one look at the Kincaid’s version of the Welcome Wagon and wondered if bringing Bianca home had been a mistake. Especially since every female in the family had turned on him—every female, except maybe his mother. Right now¸ he was unsure if his mother was pissed at him or at the situation. She paid more attention to Bianca than she did to him, which wasn’t a problem, but it made it impossible to get a read on her.
Hunter sidled up to him. “Thanks, Bro.”
Trapper’s broken nose throbbed, his head ached like a son-of-a-bitch, and all he wanted was to go home, take a handful of Motrin, curl up with Bianca in front of the fire, and hold her. He met Hunter’s not-so-happy-to-be-home glare. “What are you thanking me for?”
“For whatever you did to get Toni pissed as shit at me. Look at her tapping the toe of her combat boot. I’m so fucked, and I don’t even know what the hell I did.”
“Toni and James are friends, and James wasn’t a happy accomplice in Bianca’s—”
“Kidnapping?”
“I didn’t kidnap her, but Mom warned me that Bianca would not be happy about me bringing her to Boise. I had no choice. I didn’t think I’d get her here any other way.”
Hunter scrubbed his face with his hands. “Great. That’s just great. I help you out, and I end up in the doghouse.”
Trapper shrugged. “Hey, at least you get to look forward to the makeup sex.”
Hunter looked at his wife and smiled. “There is that.” He slung his arm around Trapper’s shoulders. “I hope you appreciate all the sacrifices I make for you.”
Trapper reminded himself that Hunter meant it as a joke. Probably, but it still made Trapper want to smack the shit out of him.
He spent his life taking care of his brothers and sister. He didn’t mind being the big brother. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d come to the rescue of one or both of the twins. He shook his head; he didn’t even want to think of how many times he’d saved Karma’s bacon.
In all the years, this was the first time he’d ever asked any of them for a damn thing, and it had just about killed him. He was the one who handled every problem. He was the one who led by example. But this time, for the first time, he was the one who had screwed up.
Being a screw up was new to him, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. The one thing he liked even less was catching shit from his little brother. He was in enough trouble with Bianca. He hadn’t heard the end of it.
Trapper took a look at his mother hugging Bianca and saw all the signs of a meltdown brewing in her eyes. To say she was overwhelmed was an understatement of massive proportions. He needed to get her out of there. “I’ll have you home in ten minutes, fifteen tops.” He gave her a kiss while he buckled her into his Sequoia.
By the time he made it into the driver’s seat, she’d lost the battle with the tears. “Are you okay?”
She waved a hand to brush him off while she sobbed into Gramps’s hankie.
“Raging hormones?”
She nodded.
He patted her thigh. The sun had just set when they left the airport. Trapper headed downtown on Capital Boulevard. “Boise State University is there on the right. And that’s the capital building straight ahead.” The Christmas tree was still up and lit, making the grounds look like a picture postcard. The foothills beyond were covered with snow, but there wasn’t any in the valley. They crossed the river and took a right on Main Street heading east, onto Warm Springs Avenue.
Bianca looked around and didn’t say anything. It was a culture shock coming from New York, but the tree-lined street was beautiful and had some of the grandest homes in Boise all decked out with Christmas lights. His wasn’t grand or decorated, but it was home.
He pulled into his driveway of the craftsman cottage he’d bought a few years ago for a song. He’d painstakingly refinished all the woodwork and built-ins—all of which had the gorgeous leaded glass insets. He’d gutted the kitchen and baths—only saving the woodwork framing the doorways and windows—and did his best to keep the flavor of the craftsman era.
It took two years, but when he finally finished, he loved the place. It wasn’t one of the big estate homes the street was known for, but he’d never wanted one of them. They weren’t his style, the craftsman cottage was—it had more than enough room for a family. He’d never planned to have a family, but was glad he had the space now. The motion sensor lights on the drive and backyard flicked on, and he parked outside the carriage house.
“This wasn’t what I expected.”
He went around to open her door. “What did you expect?”
“A condo or an apartment, I guess.”
He took her hand and helped her out. “Nope, not my style. I like my space.” He never thought he’d see her here. Oh, he’d dreamed of her coming to his place. He’d pictured her in every room, but he never actually thought she’d come. He just wished she were happier about it.
Bianca looked around the backyard he and his mother had landscaped. His mother was a force to be reckoned with, so a smart man just nodded and agreed to whatever she deemed necessary when it came to the yard. He’d learned that when she’d done Fisher’s house. He couldn’t complain though. No matter what time of year, it always looked great.
Bianca stared at the house. “It looks as if space isn’t in short supply here.”
He didn’t consider a four-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bath home large. If she thought this was big, he couldn’t wait until she got a load of Gramps’s place. “It’s comfortable.” He opened the door and then entered the security code.
“You have an alarm system? In Boise?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m a sitting judge. We do have criminals here, and I tend to put them away. Unfortunately, sometimes they get out.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She said it in a whisper.
Shit, he hadn’t wanted to scare her. He let her into the mudroom off the kitchen. “I haven’t had any problems, but with Karma living over the Carriage House, I thought it would be better to be safe than sorry.”
“Karma lives with you?” Horror flashed across Bianca’s face.
“No, she lives over there.” He pointed out back to the carriage house. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. I rarely see her, but she takes care of the lawn and keeps an eye on the house while I’m away.”
The house smelled like apple pie and chicken soup. His stomach growled. “So, do you feel like eating?”
She gave him the same look Karma did when she was three and had to eat her spinach before she could have dessert. The look may have said no, but they both knew she had to.
“Where do you want to lie down—in bed or on the couch?”
“I’d like to change, but my clothes aren’t here.”
“No problem.” He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. “You can wear a pair of my sweats.”
The look on her face was priceless. “Oh, that’ll be real attractive.”
“I think so, not to mention comfortable.” He opened a drawer and took out a worn, red Dickinson sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. “I can bring in a bowl of soup and some crackers. Mom brought over a bed tray if you want to stay in here.” He pointed to the fireplace. “I can turn the fireplace on, and we can curl up. Or, if you want, we can go to the den and watch some TV.”
She looked from him to his king-size bed and back. “Where are you planning to sleep?”
“With you. The other bedrooms are upstairs.”
“But—”
“Bianca, let’s eat, and then we’ll talk. You need to keep food in your stomach, and it’s been awhile since you’ve eaten anything.”
“Fine, but—”
“Get dressed. The bathroom is through there.” He pointed to the door and left, closing the bedroom door behind him. The last thing he wanted was one of his brothers walking in on her.
He couldn’t believe she actually asked where he’d sleep. They’d slept together every place they’d ever stayed—not that there was much sleeping involved, but still, it wasn’t as if they’d never shared a bed. If he had anything to say about it, they’d be sharing a bed from now on.
***
Bianca looked around Trapper’s bedroom. It was painted a Wedgwood blue with a rich brown accent wall and was dominated by what looked like an antique sleigh bed. Did they have king-size antique beds, or was it a reproduction? It was so nice, she couldn’t tell, and she usually could. The room was beautifully furnished, homey, comfortable, and it smelled like him.
She took a deep breath and examined the framed pictures of his family. It was as if they’d been blessed with beauty and happiness. They were like Father Knows Best, but in their case it was Grandfather Knows Best.
Kate, Trapper’s mother, was a formidable woman who kept her family close. She loved them—that was apparent. It showed in everything she did, even the way she looked at them with a combination of pride, love, and exasperation. Until she’d met Kate at Toni and Hunter’s wedding, until she’d seen the family in action—that kind of love was something Bianca had only seen on TV.
