Acting Lessons (Off Guard) Read online

“Darling.” If she thought her mother was being condescending before, now she positively oozed it. “His...eye.”

  Topher’s jaw dropped. “Are you...? Can you seriously think...?” She closed her eyes and mouth. “For the love of little baby Jesus...” When she gathered enough patience to finally look at Cecelia again, her mom was frowning.

  “Oh, dear. You haven’t gone all religious on us, have you?” Her mother said “religious” with the exact same horrified intonation that she’d used while saying “disabled.” “Is this the reason for your unfortunate choice of men? Are you doing the whole...help-the-leper thing? I sincerely hope not, since martyrdom is so unattractive.”

  In every single conversation with her mother that she could remember, there was a point when Topher knew continuing was futile. Nothing would get accomplished, and she’d just risk giving herself a stroke. Topher realized that they’d passed that point shortly after entering Jamie’s study.

  “Mom. I haven’t found Jesus.” Topher spoke quickly, ticking off each point on her fingers. Despite her doubt that anything would sink in, she couldn’t leave the room without at least attempting to get through to her mother. “I have found Jamie, though. I like him, and I’m not giving him up, so please don’t try to make me. Now, I’m hungry, since I’ve been shopping all day while dodging attacks from a bunch of female sharks. Therefore, I’m heading to the kitchen to beg some snacks from a food goddess named Leigh.”

  “But, darling...”

  There was another hour of argument packed into those two words, and Topher shook her head. “No. This conversation is done, and we are not going to revisit it again. Would you like me to show you the way back to the living room, or did you want to go to the kitchen with me?”

  If the Botox in her face had allowed the skin to move, her mother would have been glaring. “I don’t want you to ruin your life because of a silly misconception. The whole Beauty and the Beast idea may seem romantic and noble, but reality is different from a fairy tale.”

  “Mom.” She rose up on tiptoe to kiss Cecelia’s cheek. “I love you. Now, stop talking about Jamie. Did you want to meet Leigh? Her food is so good that it makes me want to cry.”

  “No, I do not want to meet this person, and you shouldn’t be begging for scraps in the kitchen, either.”

  Unable to hold back a grimace, Topher led the way out of the study. At least the topic of food had distracted her mom from the topic of Jamie. She’d much rather get lectured about her weight for the thousandth time than listen to ridiculous comments about Jamie’s scars and “disability.”

  “Tophie.”

  His rough voice brought an instant smile to her face, dissolving all her irritation lingering from the argument with her mom. “Jamie-Bear!” She gave a little skip before throwing herself at him. As she looped her arms around his neck, Topher ignored her mother’s annoyed huff.

  Catching her around the waist with one arm, Jamie held her easily against him, supporting her weight so her feet dangled off the floor. He grinned down at her. “Hungry?”

  “Starved!” The fervor in her voice made him chuckle. “It’s like you’re a mind-reader. I was just heading to see if Leigh had any extra nibbles I could mooch, just so I don’t faint from malnutrition before dinner. It’s been fourteen stomach years since breakfast, you know.”

  Cecelia made another, louder huff, which Topher also disregarded. Jamie made it easy by giving her a light kiss before lowering her feet to the floor.

  “I’ll save you a trip to the kitchen,” he said, lifting the hand that hadn’t been wrapped around her. In it, he was holding a small plate. Eyes widening with greedy glee, Topher reached for the food, but he moved the plate out of reach.

  She pouted. “Sadist.”

  “Manners,” he reproved, giving her protruding bottom lip a look that should’ve made her nervous about future repercussions, but it just made her wet, instead. “Mrs. Topher?” Jamie extended the plate toward Cecelia, who eyed it with horror, as if the food was actually a live, deadly snake.

  “No.” Her voice crackled with ice. “Thank you. And Coco does not need the additional calories.”

  Topher looked at Jamie, wanting to catch his eye so they could exchange an eye roll, but he was staring at her mother. If Cecelia’s expression was chilly, then Jamie’s was practically glacial. She waited, cringing inside, for his verbal bitch-slapping, but the cutting comment never came.

  “Tophie,” he said, instead.

  “Yes, pumpkin-face?”

  The endearment put the slightest amused cracks in the frigid edges of his expression. “Open your mouth.”

  She did, slightly warily, and he placed a tiny puff-pastry on her tongue. When Topher bit down, she discovered it had been filled by something incredible. Her eyes closed of their own volition as she savored the bit of heaven in her mouth.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed after swallowing. “I love Leigh. Have I mentioned that? I love her with the power of a thousand suns. Mom, you have to try one of these. They’re like a—” She broke off abruptly before saying the words “mouth orgasm” to her mother. “Amazing. They’re simply amazing.”

  “Coco, I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Hmm?” Since Jamie was holding another incredible creation by her lips, Topher wasn’t really paying attention to what her mother was saying. Instead, she opened her mouth, allowing him to feed her again. Before he withdrew his fingers, she closed her lips, sucking on the digits before they popped from her hold. For her reward, he gave a purr-like rumble.

  “We should visit the kitchen.” Her mom’s words were a faint, irritating buzz in the background as Topher chewed the latest heavenly offering, leaning against Jamie’s chest as she smiled up at him in gratitude. “I’m sure this cook could make a wonderful kale smoothie for you.”

  Jerked out of her happy food haze, Topher stared at Cecelia. “That’s so wrong. I think I would rather become anorexic than drink kale. Besides, my wonderful, darling Jamie-Bear brought me snacks, so I don’t have to go on a food-based treasure hunt anymore. Should we go join everyone else? After our little shopping excursion, I’ve been thinking about the numbing properties of alcoholic beverages all day.”

  His chest moving with silent laughter, Jamie waved both women in front of him. Topher, eyeing the plate of goodies, reluctantly fell in behind her mom.

  “There are more hors d’oeuvres in the living room,” he assured her quietly, correctly interpreting her anxious, over-the-shoulder glances.

  Slowing so that he was right behind her, heating her back side from knees to neck, she tipped back her head. “But they taste better when you feed them to me.” With a grin, he bent to press his lips to hers. The playful kiss quickly turned intense, and Topher lost track of where they were until Cecelia interrupted the moment with a huff.

  Although she figured that she should be embarrassed at the PDA, all Topher felt was giddy and horny as they walked the rest of the way to the living room in silence. As soon as they entered the noisy room, Cecelia pulled Topher in one direction, while Tiny Mike pounced on Jamie and towed him—and his plate of goodies—to the other side of the crowd.

  Topher’s shoulders fell in a silent sigh, and she was thankful for the fifty-eighth time that day that she was sharing a room with Jamie. At least that would guarantee some private time later. A thrilled shiver shot up her spine at the thought of what activities that “private time” might include.

  “Guess who was able to join us?” Cecelia asked her in a low voice, pulling Topher’s attention from Jamie’s receding back.

  Even though she attempted to sound enthusiastic, Topher’s voice came out flat. “Who?”

  Her mom pointed discreetly at the back of the man currently speaking to Peyton—actually, judging from where his gaze was focused, he was having a conversation with Peyton’s boobs. It took Topher a sec
ond to recognize him from behind.

  “Seriously?” She groaned when she realized who it was. “You let Tommy Marchant tag along? Why?”

  “Stop it,” Cecelia scolded, giving Topher a sharp pinch on the back of her arm, right above the elbow. “You should be happy to have more...attractive options.”

  “You think Tommy Marchant is attractive?” Topher couldn’t stop her nose from wrinkling. “Ew.”

  “Of course he’s attractive, Coco.”

  “I think he’s gross.” When her mom reached to pinch her again, Topher twisted her arm out of range. “Plus, I’m way too old for him.”

  “What?” Cecelia turned to stare at her. “Don’t be silly. He’s close to forty.”

  “I know.” Knowing her next statement would bring another pinch, Topher took a step sideways away from her mom’s reach. “And he hit on me when I was fourteen and looked like I was ten. The man likes them young. That’s why I think he’s gross. Uber-gross, actually.”

  “You say the most ridiculous things,” Cecelia grumbled before towing her toward the perv.

  “What’s ridiculous about saying that a pedophile is gross?”

  Ignoring her daughter’s question, Cecelia plastered on a smile and jerked on Topher’s arm while elbowing Peyton out of the way.

  “Tommy, darling!” she cooed, wedging them into the conversation and forcing a scowling Peyton to take a step back. Despite Peyton’s pit-viper personality, Topher almost felt sorry for her. She’d been at the mercy of her mother’s elbows many times, and those suckers were sharp. “You remember Coco, don’t you?”

  “Of course!” Tommy’s too-tan face folded into a grin. Topher couldn’t figure out why her mom thought the man was handsome. To her, he looked like a Ken doll’s creepy molester uncle, especially when he winked at them. “How could I forget your beautiful twin sister?”

  As her mother tittered in response to his icky flirting, Topher fought to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head.

  “Oh, you!” Cecelia scolded, giving his arm a teasing slap. Topher wished she’d pinched him, instead. If anyone deserved it, it was Bad-Touch Tommy. “Coco is my daughter.”

  “And she’s growing up to be as gorgeous as her mother.” Tommy reached out, as if to hug Topher. Attempting to dodge the embrace, Topher took a hasty step back and to the side. She knocked against Peyton and heard the other woman’s grunt as Topher’s elbow connected with her midsection.

  “Sorry.” Topher made an apologetic face at a glaring Peyton before turning back to Tommy. Unfortunately, her stumble had allowed him to get close enough to catch her in a super-awkward, too-long hug. Every muscle in her body stiff, she endured the embrace for as long as she could. Just as Topher was ready to drive her knee into the sleaze’s junk, someone was pulling her away from Tommy.

  “Marchant.” Jamie’s greeting sounded more like a warning as he tugged Topher back against his chest. Barely able to restrain an exclamation of gratitude, she reached back and gave his leg a pat of thanks, instead. “Didn’t realize you were coming.”

  Tommy’s smile hardened around the edges. “Hawkins. Good to see you. When the Tophers asked if I’d join them for Christmas, how could I turn them down?”

  Her next pat was apologetic. Not only had her parents invited themselves to poor Jamie’s house, but they’d invited the neighborhood creeper. Excellent.

  Jamie grunted. Although Topher felt responsible for the newest onslaught of unwelcome guests, she was also still hungry, so she checked to see if the plate was still in his possession. To her disappointment, Jamie was no longer bearing food. It seemed unfair that she had to face both her mother, Peyton and icky Tommy Marchant on a mostly empty stomach.

  “Jamie.” Peyton’s throaty voice interrupted Topher’s thoughts of her persecution. “Why don’t we leave the Tophers with Tommy so that they can get reacquainted?” Her black-widow fingers wrapped around one of Jamie’s arms and tugged.

  In protest of that extremely bad idea, Topher’s patting hand grabbed a fistful of fabric covering Jamie’s leg. If Peyton did manage to pull him away, he’d be leaving without his pants. The image of Jamie in tear-away clothes like a stripper was equal parts arousing and hysterically funny.

  “Wonderful idea,” Cecelia chimed in, and Topher immediately lost any urge to laugh. Her second hand dropped to grab his other pant leg.

  “No,” Jamie said flatly, making Topher sag against him in relief. “I haven’t seen Tophie all day. They can get reacquainted later.” As he nudged her away from the group, she released her grip on his pants. “Excuse us. Tophie’s hungry.”

  His hand moved to her lower back as he escorted her across the room.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, spotting someone carrying a tray. She changed course to intercept the server, a bit like a food-seeking missile.

  “I assumed by your death grip that you didn’t want to ‘catch up’ with Marchant,” he said dryly.

  “I’d rather be punched in the face,” she agreed, before making a sound of impatience when Barb stepped in front of her, obstructing Topher’s path to the snack source. She wished she really were a missile, so she could blow up Barb-the-food-blocker.

  Barb opened her mouth, but Topher flashed a million-watt, empty-headed smile and spoke before the other woman could.

  “Barbie Doll! You look amaze-balls! Where’s Dan-Dan? Oh, there he is, talking to that super-hot girl with the tray. Wow, her boobs are, like, enormous. I wonder if they get in the way of her tray-holding.”

  Barb’s head snapped around, Exorcist-style, and she glared at the server and Danny. Although Topher felt a tiny bit of guilt for throwing the two across the room under the bus, her remorse was quickly eaten by her gnawing hunger.

  “Dan-Dan must be wondering the same thing, judging by the way he’s staring at her boobie-blockade.”

  Making a sound scarily close to a growl, Barb charged toward the flirting pair. As Topher headed in the other direction, her eyes fixed on the second, less-boobilicious server, she heard a low chuckle behind her.

  “Nice work,” Jamie said in a low voice. “I could use your skills of redirection if the acting career doesn’t work out.”

  “If I want to spend my days miserable and potentially homicidal in a cubicle, Ben’s already offered me a job,” she responded absently, her focus on the server now heading for the door. Did that mean that his tray was empty? She swallowed a despairing wail as the server left the room. It had to have been at least fifty-two stomach years since the heavenly cinnamon roll. She eyed Tiny’s heaping plate and resisted the urge to tackle him to the ground.

  “Not worth it.” Apparently, Jamie could read minds, since he looped a restraining arm around her waist. “His fingers have been all over everything on that plate.”

  “Fine,” she sighed, looking around the room. Barb and Danny were huddled in a corner and appeared to be arguing. There were no food trays in sight. “Where did the boobacious server go? Did Barb slit her throat and hide her body in a closet?”

  “That’s a little too possible to be funny,” Jamie grumbled. “Want to go directly to the source and raid the kitchen?”

  “Yes, please!”

  Before they reached the door, Julia stepped into the room, blocking their path. It was Topher’s turn to growl.

  “Dinner is served,” Julia announced, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd.

  “Thank the blessed food gods!” Topher felt Jamie’s chest move with his silent laughter.

  “And Leigh.”

  “Yes,” she agreed fervently, hurrying toward the dining room. “We should definitely thank Leigh.”

  Chapter Ten

  “May I have yours?” Topher widened her eyes as she stared at Jamie, hoping she had the “hungry puppy” look nailed.

  “No.”

&
nbsp; “Please?”

  “No.” Scooping half of his berries and cream, he shoveled it into his mouth, not looking at all guilty for eating the dessert he could’ve given to her.

  “But mine’s all gone.” Instead of his berries, all she got was a reprimanding look for the whine in her voice. “One bite?”

  “No.”

  Her next begging comment was interrupted by Ben, who’d raised his voice so they could hear him across the table and down three seats.

  “Any new movie roles, Coco?” he asked. Although she thought there was a condescending edge in his words, she decided to ignore it for the sake of family peace.

  “No, but I have some auditions lined up for after New Year’s.” She gave him a Tophie smile. Hopefully, her bimbo persona worked for getting out of awkward conversations with family members as well as mobsters and their daughters.

  His frown brought a familiar tightness to her belly, making her glad that Jamie had been a greedy Gus and hadn’t shared his dessert. As always, being around her parents had reduced her to an insecure twelve-year-old. Topher reached under the table and grasped a fold of Jamie’s pants at his knee, using the handful of fabric as a high-end security blanket. Jamie went still, his spoon poised above the parfait dish, his eye narrowing as he looked back and forth between Topher and her stepfather.

  “You’re twenty-one. Shouldn’t you be outgrowing this acting nonsense?” He took a bite of his own dessert without showing any sign that his taste buds were orgasming as Leigh’s creation deserved.

  “Twenty-two,” she corrected, trying not to allow her vapid grin to shake around the edges. Barb exchanged a smirk with her mother, and Peyton, although she kept her expression impassive, leaned slightly closer to Ben as if trying not to miss a word. Topher’s fingers tightened around the expensive fabric she was clutching as she mentally apologized to Jamie for turning that spot on his pants into a wrinkled mess.

  Instead of apologizing for missing her birthday five weeks ago, Ben just gestured emphatically with his spoon. “Exactly.”