Mixed Match Read online

  The dress was red and skintight. Didn't exactly say kick back and relax. "And anyway, how's he going to concentrate on the game if I'm wearing this...thing?" She spat the word, "thing," as if it tasted nasty.

  "All’s fair in love and war."

  "Correct me if I'm wrong, but one does not wear a skintight red Band-Aid of a dress to watch basketball." Sophia shifted on the bed, tugging at the scant hemline. As she fell back onto the mattress, she leaned her phone against the pillow at the headboard so she could still see her cousin.

  "One does, if one wants to catch Everett, which one should, if one was not blind and crazy."

  The thing was, Sophia wasn't entirely sure she did want to catch Everett. He was kind of cute and obviously chivalrous, but she wasn't sure she really wanted to put her heart back out there on the line. Especially with the whole house situation and Mom probably conspiring with the universe for her speedy return.

  "What kind of woman wears a skanky dress to watch basketball? Really?"

  Julie didn’t have any qualms about her answer. "Hopefully the kind who puts out." Her picture began to shake and a loud rustling noise came through the receiver. Sophia could see the walls pan by in the background until the screen went black.

  "Ew, that’s just nasty. His sister and his friend are going to be there."

  "Not in the living room, fool." Julie's voice burst through the darkness. "Go in his bedroom. Turn up the TV, and use a pillow to muffle your moans," she whispered. "You need this."

  "I don't even know what to say." Nasty wasn't even the word. Not the part about having sex with Everett. Sophia could totally imagine that part. But she felt dirty just thinking about his friend and sister down the hall, trying not to hear her screaming in ecstasy. She brought the phone closer and squinted at the screen. "And what the heck are you doing? I can't see you anymore, and now I can barely hear you."

  "Shh. I'm in the closet. Now keep it down."

  Sophia lowered her voice and watched the dim lit picture of Jules come into grainy focus. "Why are we whispering?"

  "I'm hiding from Nico. I don't want him to hear us."

  "Why? He doesn't know you're a freak already? I mean, I'm not going to ask, and I'm not going to judge, but you sound like you're speaking from experience, nasty." Sophia teased. "Did you put out on the first date with Nico?"

  Julie's face might as well have been pressed against the screen she was so. "Come on, now. Please. Are we talking about the same guy, here? The messenger?" She sucked her teeth. "Shit, if Nico hadn’t come along, I would've taken the position up there in Portland so fast and landed me some sexy-ass messenger Everett.”

  In the distance, Nico's voice echoed through the phone.

  "Dammit. He knows I'm gone," Julie whispered.

  "Again, weirdo. Why are you hiding from him? Is this some kind of strange engagement hazing ritual, or do you guys always act like five-year-olds?"

  "Unless you want him getting all up in your business with detailed questions, then be quiet," Julie whisper-yelled. "If he hears us talking, he's going to have all kinds of advice. He'll be trying to Google this guy. He won’t find anything because I've already done the digging. Just...don't even go there."

  After that hiss/whispered mouthful, it was no surprise Nico found her. A door swung open and the screen flooded light into the closet where Julie was hiding.

  "What are you doing? I didn't know where you were." Nico's shaky voice vibrated with worry.

  Sophia could see his legs from the knees down, then his arms as he lifted Julie up onto her feet.

  He must have seen the phone’s illuminated screen, because the next thing Sophia knew, Julie was being interrogated about why she felt the need to talk on the phone in the closet. In seconds flat, he went from anxious inquiries about her safety to suspicions of cheating.

  Before she knew it, Julie was telling Nico the whole story about Everett. No detail spared. Down to his dog and her exaggerated estimates of his…uh…personal measurements, Julie clued Nico in on the man. She either didn't care that she'd left Sophia hanging on the line, or she'd completely forgotten about her.

  But some ten or so minutes later, both of their bright-eyed smiling faces appeared in the camera.

  "Well, thanks. Since we're all up to speed on Everett, can we please get back to me?"

  "Are you wearing that?" Nico asked.

  His tone was level and even, but the inflection on the end? There it was. The judgment. The label. People always said what's on the inside counted, but the flawed human need to categorize kicks in and there it is. The Look. It says women who wear tight dresses to watch basketball games are asking for it.

  "I don't think so."

  Nico's brows gave the slightest jerk upward.

  It said it all. She wouldn't wear the dress.

  "Yeah. No matter what his wishy-washy tone says," Julie interjected. "Nico and I both agree you need to go ahead and dust off the cobwebs. Asshat didn't have shit on this guy, and he certainly didn't have any rhythm."

  "Would you please not bring him up?" Sophia said with a little too much edge in her tone.

  "I'm just saying. Ask Liz. The best way to get over an old guy is to get under a new guy. Just think of this new guy as a gift to your vag. It'll be so happy."

  Sophia couldn't help but laugh at her crazy cousin. But, all this talk about her vag, and sex, and Everett, left her running hot under the collar. Her stomach clenched and she squeezed her thighs together.

  "He is pretty delicious, isn't he?" Sophia admitted.

  "Yes, so please. I'm begging you, for my sake as your cousin, and as a personal favor to your dusty vag. Please don't wear the baggy Lakers shirt and those raggedy jeans." Julie's face twisted into an exasperated grimace.

  Maybe not the Lakers shirt…

  Sophia looked up, staring at nothing in particular. She imagined herself face-to-face with Everett, the way he would be looking at her with hungry eyes. He'd meet her curbside and open her door for her, only to see the dress. Except— "But it's still raining."

  There was nothing sexy about freezing in the rain. Goosebumps were not the best look for a sort-of first date.

  "And you don't own a dang umbrella? I know you have a trench coat," Julie said. But before she could get the rest of her thought out, she seemed to latch onto an idea with iron claws. "Yessss! Better yet, wear just the trench coat and nothing else."

  Sophia heard all she needed to hear from "the authority." Hah! Julie was the authority on how to be a groupie tease. So much for her help. All she'd done was activate Sophia's raging libido. Now, while she should be comfortably watching basketball with a group of new friends, she was going to have to do everything in her power not to jump his bones on sight.

  A pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeve, button-down striped T-shirt later, Sophia’s driver crept down a tree-lined street and stopped in front of a gorgeous split-level Craftsman-style home with window boxes full of flowers.

  Even under the cover of night, through the glistening translucent mist, she could see lush, richly colored shrubs. She couldn't be sure whether the house was blue or a light shade of gray, but there, beside the green door under a dense canopy of maples and elms were the house numbers he’d given her.

  Just to be sure this was it, she compared the map app on her phone to the address Everett texted earlier.

  This was the right street.

  She rolled down the window and craned her neck out to get a better look at the place.

  For some reason she couldn't quite pinpoint, she couldn't imagine him living in a full-fledged family home. He wore jeans, but the brands were high quality, with even higher price tags. His truck, though it was clear he used it for work, had a custom paint job and all the premium accessories, which didn’t scream family man.

  The house was beautiful, and probably showcased all the luxuries anyone would want in a home, but somehow she’d imagined him living in something modern—some kind of contemporary loft or a high-rise.
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  This place? This was where people raised kids. People who lived in these kinds of homes threw dinner parties and spent their summer holidays on the water.

  More than anything, Sophia couldn't imagine a bachelor living here. Especially not an excruciatingly hot bachelor with only man's best friend as his roommate.

  Hell. He's probably got a girlfriend. Or, a fiancée. Oh, my goodness. Sophia's breath shallowed and her heart pounded against her ribcage. Hence the reason his sister and his friend are coming. He’s just being nice.

  Oh. My. God.

  Sophia sat back in the seat with her head pressed firmly against the headrest. "Shit!" she said aloud, only then remembering she wasn't alone. "I'm sorry."

  The driver, a young guy with glossy black hair and blinky eyes, turned to face her. "Is this it?"

  She was still deciding whether to tell him to take her back home or suck it up for one night, still trying to convince herself it was just a get-together. To just go in and make some friends and keep on keeping on. "Yeah." She breathed the word, getting it out before she could change her mind again.

  But she still didn't get right out. Instead she peeked at the Craftsman once more, pumping herself up to do this—to see Everett again. Only when it was too awkward for her to keep stalling, she grabbed the bottle of merlot she'd chosen from the wine cellar and got out of the car.

  As her rain boot-clad feet squelched toward the front door, she absorbed the peaceful sounds of crickets chirping and flashes of lightning bugs twinkling. Nightfall did not do the sprawling lawn any justice. Up close, Sophia smelled the sweet perfume of roses and azaleas and wisteria, and the slick, stone-paved walkway was peppered with fallen petals and sun-washed leaves. But the house itself hovered over her, grand and even farther-reaching than it seemed from afar.

  She got so caught up in the garden landscape and the gapeworthy sight before her, she nearly ran into a woman. "I'm so sorry," she said, trying to maintain her footing on the slick, wet ground.

  "You must be Sophia." The woman was bubbling with excitement, completely unaware of Sophia's silent prayer this was indeed his sister and not some girlfriend Everett failed to mention.

  A forced smile crept at the corners of Sophia's mouth as her eyes darted down to the woman's left hand. No ring. An audible exhale escaped her as her eyes fell on the woman for the first uninterrupted moment. She was stunning. The same flawless brown skin as Everett’s, with hazel eyes. In the place of what Sophia imagined would be sweeping, long locks was a sexy, sweet pixie cut styled in the latest trend of spikes and tapered edges. She was exactly the kind of cool woman who made women want to be friends with her and men fall all over themselves for a chance to be with her. Down to her boho bell-bottoms and threadbare, sleeveless tee, her grace and class were only enhanced by endless style.

  Please be the sister. Please be the sister.

  And now she wished she'd taken Julie's advice and worn the red dress. Maybe she would have a fighting chance over this bohemian goddess, if by some horrible stroke of luck she wasn't the sister.

  "Hi," Sophia managed. "This is for you." She handed over the wine, but it took Sophia off guard when the goddess gave her a tight hug.

  "Come on in. I'll take your coat." She tailed Sophia into the house. "You're right on time. Ev and Mike are in the kitchen."

  As Sophia stepped into the house feeling a little lighter, she let her trench slide off her arms as she took in her surroundings. Out of nowhere a blur of brown fur came rushing toward her. "Hi, Blue." She crouched down and mussed the dog's short hair. His tail whipped through the air as he nuzzled into her hair. "It's nice to see you again, too."

  "I see you and Blue already know each other. I don't know where my manners are. Here I've been talking to you for five minutes and haven't had the decency to tell you my name." She bounced on her toes and stretched her hand out. "I'm Zora."

  Hallelujah.

  Sophia got to her feet and went in for another hug. "I'm so glad to meet you. From what Everett told me about you, you share the same love of food I do. I can't wait to pick your brain."

  "Should we go uncork this?" Zora asked with a nod toward the kitchen. But then she turned and stared at Sophia like a bug was on her.

  "What?" Sophia asked.

  "Oh, my gosh. Are those Hunters? I love them. They're on my list." She looked down at Sophia's feet, then back up to her eyes.

  Sophia turned, blushing. "Thanks. Yeah. I got them a while ago." She glanced down at her navy patent leather rain boots.

  "Ev! These are the exact rain boots I want for my birthday. Take notes."

  As soon as Zora yelled “Ev!” Sophia turned, and there was Everett. She'd seen him only a few hours before, but somehow, in some inhumanly impossible way, he was more handsome than she remembered.

  Her mouth fell open, but words refused to roll off her tongue. Instead she pressed her lips together in what she hoped was a warm smile, for fear anything else might give away the fact she was practically panting like a dog in heat on the inside, thanks to Julie and all her sex talk.

  "Noted," he said to Zora while his eyes remained locked on Sophia. "You clean up well." He closed the distance between them and gave her a light kiss on the cheek.

  Oh, the stars! His lips were as soft as she imagined, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to turn her face and taste them. He was still talking. Something about fajitas and a tip-off, but she couldn't get past the warm, tingly spot on her cheek where Everett's full lips grazed her skin. She'd gotten a whiff of his clean, minty, ocean scent and a close-up view of the way his clothes clung to his lean, muscular body.

  Suddenly, she was hyper-aware of him and what his presence did to her. Her heart raced and her skin pulsed. And for a quick second she seriously considered blaring TVs, moan-muffling pillows, and a gift to her vag.

  * * *

  In no time at all, Sophia warmed up to Zora. The two of them, and Blue, were three peas in a pod. The women talked about city life and food, of course. As soon as the topic of the farmer’s market came up, they agreed bell-pepper-gender nonbelievers just didn’t know what they were missing—and likely couldn’t cook. Meanwhile Blue might as well have been in Sophia's lap, at least if he'd gotten any closer. Traitor.

  Everett sighed. The urge to do something overwhelmed him. He needed to get her alone. "Sophia, did you have enough to eat? There's plenty left if you're still hungry," he said, getting to his feet. "Or I can get you another beer."

  She looked up at him, and he saw something behind those eyes he couldn't decipher.

  "Uh...no. I'm okay, thanks."

  He stood there for a second. What else could he say? Meet me in the kitchen so I can finally get you alone, because my sister's been hogging you all night? "Sure. No problem. Just...let me know."

  What the fuck was that? Let me know?

  Before he could do or say anything else embarrassing, Everett stalked into the kitchen and got himself another beer. Purposely, he leaned on the island and stood right in his sister's line of vision, so when she looked up, he shot her a death glare. One he'd given her many times over the years. Apparently an effective one, too, because Zora excused herself and ambled into the kitchen, all wide-eyed and raised shoulders until she was standing beside him.

  "What? What did I do?"

  On the screen, the Trailblazers shot a buzzer-beater from half court to close out the half. Everett ground his teeth. "Who's she here to see? Who invited her here?"

  He didn't have to look at Zora to feel the wide smile spreading over her smug face. This was exactly what she wanted, probably part of her plan. "I thought you told me to ask her myself." She tilted her head toward him, but he refused to look at her gloating smirk and raised brows. "I thought...there was nothing to spill. So, what you're saying is, Mike was right? You are going all soft for Sophia Kent."

  "What's there to spill, when she and I haven't had a moment alone so I can get to know her?"

  Zora’s giggle bubbled up, and i
t was all he could do not to stick her face in his armpit and make her say uncle.

  "Admit you like her and I'll see what I can do about arranging some quality time for the two of you." Now Zora squared her body to him and folded her arms. She was positively glowing with I-told-you-so as she bit back a shit-eating grin.

  "Fine." Uncle. He sighed and rolled his eyes, practically pouting. "I'm interested. Hope it makes you happy. But, it's not what you think." Bold-faced lie. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Sophia Kent affected him. She bothered him, and awakened something dormant within him. Just being near her made him feel unhinged, unsure of how to be or what to say. Her warm eyes and the soft curve of her cheeks drew him in. With every word she spoke, he wanted to cover her lips with his and feel the low rumble of her laugh against him.

  "She's Austin Harman's ex-wife. Sophia Kent is living in Patton Place. That's why she's here." Everett turned to Zora now, a pointed expression on his face. "Mike thinks it's a 'birds of a feather' type thing, but I still don’t get the same vibe. I'm just trying to feel her out, see where her head is. I think she's the one being played."

  Zora's hand flew to her mouth and her eyebrows were practically in her hair. Her mouth was wide open, but she said nothing.

  "Yeah. Exactly how I felt, too. I couldn't believe it, but Mike is so hell-bent on her name. He can't get past the fact she was married to Austin. You know how he is. Once a Harman, always a Harman to him. But I don't see it with Sophia. What do you think? You're the one whose been talking to her all night." Everett pinched the bridge of his nose and waited, but when he looked at his sister, it wasn't the flabbergasted, shocked expression from seconds earlier.

  Her mouth was still open, but her brows were dipped into a deep vee. Not shock—disgust. "What the fuck are you doing, Ev? Does she know who you are? That it's been our family home for generations?"

  He didn't expect Zora to go right for the gut. All the air rushed out of his chest—gut punch.