Collide (The Barker Triplets 2)

“Bradley Hayes. He’s just been named junior partner in his father’s law firm.”

“Good luck with that.” He’d spied Hayes chatting up a leggy brunette outside. The bastard was no different than his father. Cain’s mother had stopped working for the family after the elder Hayes had been inappropriate one time too many.

He walked past her without another word. Rebecca was much like the bored, rich housewives who were a dime a dozen in LA—always looking over the horizon, loving no one but themselves and the size of their husband’s wallet.

“Hey, need some help?”

The redhead jumped, her eyes wide as she glanced up at him. He’d startled her, and for one second she reminded him of a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

She regained her composure and looked away, her voice soft, the drawl he’d noticed earlier a little more pronounced. “No, thank you. I’m tidying up for Marnie. It’s the least I can do.”

“I don’t mind.” Cain grabbed the stack of plates she’d gathered into a pile and moved them to the counter near the dishwasher. He stared down at the machine for several seconds. He had one at home, a supersized monster, in fact. He’d just never used it before.

“Don’t worry about dishes. The caterers will be here within the hour to do the real cleanup. Everything belongs to them.”

She was there, beside him, placing several wineglasses in a neat row next to the dishes. Her fingers were long and delicate, the nails short and free of color. She was smaller than he’d thought. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Her scent lingered in the air, and Cain wondered what it would feel like to hold her. Would she lean into him, soft and pliant, with those big blues looking up at him? Or would she be aggressive and hard, pushing and reaching for something more?

He took a step back, ran his hand along his forehead, and then rolled his shoulders. He really shouldn’t be thinking about her like that. Hell, he shouldn’t be thinking about anything right now except sleep.

“I see you’ve met our Maggie.”

Lauren Black slipped her arm through his, and Cain gave his mother a hug.

Maggie. It suited her. His dark gaze swept back to the redhead, but her eyes were lowered. Her hands clutched a rag so tightly, her knuckles were white.

“We met earlier on the porch,” he answered. “Though I don’t think we were officially introduced. I’m Cain.” She looked up. Her eyes were darker than before, the deep blue now two shades past navy. A thin layer

of freckles sprinkled the bridge of her nose, and an image of his tongue sweeping across her creamy skin flashed before him. Cain’s groin tightened; his lips thinned.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was at a funeral reception for Christ sakes.

Jesse’s funeral.

It was the booze. The lack of sleep. It had to be. He nodded toward the far end of the kitchen. “How’s Raine?” When in doubt, divert attention.

Lauren shook her head. “Not good.” Jake was at Raine’s side, his hand on her shoulder, his eyes intense as he leaned in close to listen to whatever she was saying. “They loved each other so much. She didn’t deserve this.” Lauren paused. “I thought they’d live the dream, you know. I really did.”

“Dreams sometimes turn into nightmares.”

Cain and his mother turned back to Maggie. She looked pensive, surprised maybe that she’d spoken out loud.

“I, uh…” Her small tongue darted out and moistened her lips. They were full, kissable, free of gloss, and sexy as hell. She had the kind of mouth men fantasized about, lips meant for sinning, for gliding and nibbling. Cain’s chest tightened as he stared down at her, an unfamiliar feeling warming his body.

She was really…kind of perfect.

“I didn’t mean anything.” She paused and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just…when you love like that, you take a chance.”

“On what?” Cain was curious. He’d never been hooked. Hell, the Natasha fiasco had been a whirlwind of hot sex and fantasy. In the end it had been nothing more than a train wreck, and when it finally derailed, he’d been left wondering what the hell he’d ever seen in his ex. There’d been nothing of substance, no glue to hold them together.

“On losing yourself.” Maggie glanced at her watch. “I have to call a cab and get Michael home. He fell asleep over an hour ago.”

His mother’s grip tightened and she yanked on his arm. “Don’t be silly. We’ll give you a ride.” She glanced up at her son. “Cain will drive you.”

“No.” Her answer was abrupt. “He’s been drinking.”

She was right. Cain couldn’t drive.

“You have your driver’s license?” Lauren asked.