Blame It on the Bikini(3)

The balcony was darker and quieter. Of course he’d know where to find the most intimate place in an overcrowded venue. She pressed her back against the cold wall. She preferred to be able to keep an eye on the punters, and it gave her unreliable muscles some support. But in a second she realised it was a bad idea because Brad now towered in front of her. Yeah, he was all she could see and there was no way of getting around him easily.

The loud rhythm of the music was nothing on the frantic beat of her pulse in her ears. But he must be used to it—women blushing and going breathless in his company. She hoped he didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary.

‘Will you excuse me a sec?’ she said briskly. ‘I just need to check a couple of messages.’

‘Sure.’

She slipped her hand into her pocket, needing to fill in a few of her fifteen minutes and catch her breath. Besides, the imp in her wanted to know Lauren’s reaction to the photo she’d sent. But there were no messages at all—which was odd given Lauren’s tech-addiction. She frowned at the phone.

‘Did you need to make a call?’ he asked quietly.

‘Do you mind? It won’t take a second.’ And it would fill in a few more of the fifteen minutes.

‘Go for it.’ Brad lifted his glass and sipped.

Mya turned slightly towards the wall and made the call.

‘What did you think?’ she quietly asked as soon as Lauren answered.

‘Think of what?’

‘The pic,’ Mya mumbled into the phone, turning further away so Lauren’s big, bad brother couldn’t hear. ‘I sent it a couple of hours ago.’

‘What picture?’

‘The pic.’ Mya’s heart drummed faster. She glanced at Brad. Standing straight in front of her—a little too close. His eyes flicked up from her body to her face. She didn’t want him listening, but now she’d looked at him, she couldn’t look away. Not when she’d seen that look in his eyes. It wasn’t just maple syrup now. It was alight with something else.

‘I haven’t received any pic. What was it of?’ Lauren laughed.

‘But I sent it,’ Mya said in confusion. She’d heard that whooshing sound when the message had gone. ‘You must have got it.’

‘Nup, nada.’

Mya’s blood pounded round her body. Sweltering, she tried to think. Because if that message hadn’t gone to Lauren, then to whom had it gone?

She stared up at the guy standing closer than he ought and gradually became aware of a change in him. His eyes weren’t just alive with the maple-syrup effect; no, now they were lit with unholy amusement. Why—?

Impossible.

The heat of anticipation within Mya transformed to horror in less than a heartbeat. And to make it worse, Brad suddenly smiled, hell, his shoulders actually shook—was the guy laughing at her?

‘I definitely haven’t got it,’ Lauren warbled on. ‘But I’m glad you rang because I haven’t seen you in …’

Mya zoned out from Lauren, remembering the rush in the change room, the way she’d been giggling and not concentrating, the way her fingers had slipped over the screen …

No. Please no.

Lauren’s voice and the noise from the bar all but disappeared, as if she’d dived into a swimming pool and could hear only muted, warped sound. Her stunned brain slowly cranked through the facts while the rest of her remained locked in the heat of his gaze.

Her contacts list automatically defaulted to alphabetical order. She’d never deleted all the contacts already on it either—and it was an old phone of Lauren’s. No doubt her brother’s number had been programmed in a long, long time ago. And B came before L. So first in the phone list?

Davenport. Brad Davenport.





CHAPTER TWO



MYA ignored the fact that Lauren was still babbling in her ear and jabbed the phone, shutting it down. She shoved it back in her pocket and tossed her head to get her fringe out of her eyes. ‘It seems my phone’s died,’ she said with exaggerated effervescence. ‘Can I borrow yours?’

Brad’s silent chuckle became a quick, audible burst before he summoned the control to answer. ‘Really?’

She nodded vehemently, pretending she couldn’t feel the rhythmic vibrating against her thigh.

‘But your phone is ringing.’

Yeah, there was no pretending she couldn’t hear the shrill squawks over the beat of the bar music.

‘What is that?’

‘It’s a recording of dolphins talking to each other,’ she answered brightly before hitting him with a bald-faced lie. ‘But while my ringer is working, the person on the other end can’t hear me.’

‘Maybe you hit mute.’

‘Look, can I use it?’ She dropped all pretence at perky and spoke flatly. Oh, she wanted to curl into a ball and roll behind a rock. Now. This was why he was here tonight. What had he thought? Surely he hadn’t thought the picture was meant for him and he’d come to her? As if she’d called him?

Mya bit back hysterical laughter. Teen Mya would have loved Brad Davenport to hunt her down for a hookup. Adult Mya had learned to avoid sharks. And of all the people she had to mistakenly send a picture to, it had to be her best friend’s brother? Her best friend’s completely gorgeous, speed-through-a-million-sexual-partners brother?

Brad held her gaze captive with his warm, amused one. ‘But my phone cost a lot of money and I don’t like the way you’re holding that glass of water. I don’t think my phone can survive the depths.’

Was the guy a mind-reader? Of course she wanted to drown the thing—she’d drown Brad himself if she could. Or better still, herself.

How could she have made such a mistake? This ranked as the most mortifying moment of her life. Why had she gone with the scarlet bikini with the see-through sides?

‘How come you have my number anyway?’ he asked lazily, confirming the worst.

‘This was an old phone of Lauren’s.’ Mya groaned. ‘She passed it on to me.’

‘One of the ones she lost and made Dad replace?’

Hell, that would be right. For a while there Lauren had made her father pay—literally. ‘She told me he’d given her a new one and she didn’t need this one any more.’ She didn’t like the frown in Brad’s eyes.

Yeah, she was the bad influence, wasn’t she? The one who came from the wrong side of the tracks to lead Lauren astray. Did he think she abused her relationship with Lauren to get things? Lauren’s parents had thought that. Indeed, Lauren had tried to give Mya things. Mya had refused to take most of them. The little she had, she’d hidden from her own parents. She didn’t want them feeling bad that they couldn’t afford those kinds of gifts—indeed any. Even then Lauren had tricked her into taking this phone and she’d taken nothing since.

And now? Now there was no dignity left in this situation. ‘Would you please delete it?’ she asked. Yeah, begging already.

‘Never.’

Incredibly, his instant laughing response melted her but she couldn’t be flattered by this. She just couldn’t. ‘It wasn’t meant for you.’

‘More’s the pity,’ he said softly. ‘Do you often text pictures of yourself in underwear to your friends?’

‘It wasn’t underwear,’ she said indignantly.

His chin lifted and the sound of his laughter rang out, crashing and curling over her like a wave of warmth. ‘It’s a bra.’

But Mya couldn’t float in that tempting sea. ‘It’s a bikini.’

He shook his head, his brown eyes teasing. ‘Sorry, Mya. It’s a bra.’

She was still too mortified to be teased. ‘I was in a swimwear store. I wanted Lauren’s opinion on it. It was a bikini.’

‘There were see-though bits.’ He gestured widely and half shrugged. ‘There was underwire. Looked like a bra to me.’

‘You’d know because you’ve seen so many?’ She tried to bite, but felt her blush rise higher.

‘Sure,’ he chuckled. ‘And for the record, yes, you can definitely get away with it.’

Brad watched Mya closely and couldn’t bring himself to take the polite step back despite knowing the doll was embarrassed beyond belief. But no way in hell was he ever deleting that image. She was gorgeous—far more gorgeous than he’d realised. The picture had been the teaser, but seeing her like this now? All flushed and snappy, pocket-sized but bright-eyed—he was beyond intrigued.

Her hair was swept into a ponytail. Now he remembered the colour had frequently changed. She and Lauren had spent for ever in Lauren’s room, giggles emanating as they did outrageous things to their hair. Though right now, instead of hot pink and purple, Mya’s hair colour looked almost natural—a light brown with slightly blonde streaks round the front. Her wickedly high cheekbones created sharp planes sloping down to that narrow little chin. Those teeth and that impish smile broke the perfection, yet were perfect themselves. The all-black ensemble was unusual for her but it didn’t hide her body. Despite her slender limbs and pixie face, she wasn’t boyishly slim. Her jeans were painted on, and the apron around her hips didn’t wholly hide her curvy butt. As for those breasts … Plumped up by the bikini/bra in the picture, they’d been so bountiful they’d spilled over the edges. Now, disguised under that plain black tee, their silhouette was minimised. But no simple cotton covering could fully hide the softness that seemed sinfully generous in proportion to her small stature.