Suddenly Sexy

CHAPTER 1



For Maddie Clarke, high school had been a blur of homework, bad skin, worse hair, raging hormones and a crush on Sam Hennessy. Being thirty wasn't much better. Work had taken over from homework and the bad hair days continued, but Clearasil had been replaced by a year's supply of chocolate on her 10 Things To Take To a Deserted Island list.

Until now, she'd thought the hormones and Sam Hennessy fixation were under control too, but apparently she was wrong. The tall, muscular man leaning casually against her sister's kitchen bench, ankles and arms crossed, definitely had a way of waking up long neglected body parts. And with that reawakening came all the symptoms of lust—sweating, churning stomach, erratic heart rate. It was like being fifteen all over again.

"Maddie? You okay?" her older sister, Linda, asked. "You don't look well."

"I'm fine. Must've been something I ate."

"You didn't swallow any chemicals at the lab again, did you?"

Maddie glared at her. She'd have to remember to thank her sister for making a fool of her in front of Sam later.

"I never realized being a scientist was so dangerous," said Sam, the corners of his mouth spiking upwards.

"She's joking. I've never swallowed any chemicals." Except for that one time when her lab partner accidentally spilled ethanol in her coffee. She'd driven the porcelain bus for days afterwards.

"Well, there was that one time—"

"Linda!" Her sister had the biggest mouth in Melbourne. If only she used it for good instead of evil. "Don't you have children to raise?"

Linda cupped a hand behind her ear. "I don't hear screaming coming from the living room, which means David and Emily have either killed each other or are up to mischief." She turned her attention to ten month-old Ronan in the high chair, smacking himself with his fist. "And he's doing fine without parental influence, so no, I think I'll stay here."

And embarrass the hell out of me.

"When did you say Pete would be home?" Sam asked, eyeing the kitchen door like he was waiting for his savior to walk in.

Maddie didn't blame him for wishing his old buddy would come home and rescue him. She often wanted to escape her sister, especially when Linda cooked up a storm. At meal times, she was like one of those circus plate twirlers, keeping everything spinning just enough so the plates didn't smash on the floor.

Yep, Maddie admired Linda, she just didn't want to be her. Of course she wanted kids, but not three with another on the way and a husband who worked long hours. To avoid chaos, Linda needed boundless energy and the organization skills of the Olympic Committee. Pity she had a penchant for leaving everything until the last minute.

Linda's life was more excitement than Maddie ever wanted. She could usually only cope for an hour before she had to escape to the peace and quiet of her own house.

"So how long are you here for, Sam?" Maddie asked, hoping to distract him from wishing he was somewhere else.

He shrugged impressively broad shoulders. Sexy shoulders. Bite-able shoulders. "Not sure yet. I'm on a wait-and-see basis. Go with the flow, see how things pan out. You know how it is."

Nope, she didn't have a clue. "Oh." Who ever heard of someone in his position taking an indefinite holiday? Surely the CEO of National Paints couldn't take more than a couple of weeks off work?

He was as much a mystery now as he had been back in school. Unfortunately that only added to his hotness. Like he needed any more.

Nope, Sam hadn't changed much in fifteen years after all. He was still gorgeous, still made her hormones jump and he still bucked the system and got away with it.

Two years older than Maddie, Sam had been her sister's boyfriend's—now husband's—best friend at East Waverley High. He'd also been the school's bad boy. Every girl in school dreamt of dating him. About half of those had lived out their fantasies. The other half, the group to which Maddie belonged, had been too far beneath him to get noticed.

He'd left Melbourne straight after graduation. Fifteen years later, he'd returned, wealthier and sexier than ever. That sucked. If there was any justice in the world, he'd be fat, bald and stuck in a dead-end job, or maybe in jail.

Somehow he'd managed to dodge premature aging and the law and wound up in charge of a multi-national company, which just confirmed her theory that crime and corporate Australia weren't all that far apart. Even worse than his stellar career, he hadn't put on an ounce—his lean body had gained muscle tone not flab—and he still had his own hair, thick and black. Life was so unfair.

At least he was still single. The Powers That Be hadn't smiled on him in the love department. But they would and Maddie just knew the lucky woman would be better than he deserved. Men like Sam Hennessy got all the breaks in life.

"Still looking for Miss Right," he said when Linda asked what Maddie was dying to know.

"Ms. Right," Maddie said then winced. Who the hell cared for gender politics when the man of her teen dreams lounged against her sister's kitchen bench?

God, he looked better in jeans at thirty-two than he had at seventeen. They fit snugly around his long legs, tight butt and a bulge that had been the envy of the jocks and the Holy Grail of the year nine girls.

"Sorry," Sam said. "I didn't realize 'Miss' was an unacceptable title in the twenty-first century."

She tried to smile, tried to look casual and cool, but her glasses slipped down her nose. She was such a dork. "It's just politically incorrect nowadays."

His gaze skimmed up her face, settling on her eyes, or maybe her glasses. She should have worn the blue framed ones, they made her look sexier.

Who was she kidding? Glasses and sexiness went together like peanut butter and chocolate.

Actually, that sounded interesting. She’d have to try it when she finished her diet.

"I'll try to remember that next time I'm speaking about a matrimonially challenged female," he said.

Linda snorted. Maddie's smile tightened and she ground her teeth. Pete had better hurry up and get home if he didn't want his sister-in-law and best friend exchanging insults before they even sat down to dinner. Sam may be great eye candy but he'd never been her favorite person. Nothing had changed. He still liked teasing her, and she still didn't know how to take it.

"Those kids are way too quiet for my liking," Linda said, turning down the oven. "I'd better make sure they still have their hair."

Sam's eyebrows rose.

"David chopped Emily's off a couple of weeks back."

"Ah, that explains the crew cut. I thought she was trying for the tomboy look."

"She's three," Maddie said. "She's too young to have a look."

The raised brows turned on her. "Sorry, but I don't know what's in the mind of a three year-old girl."

Maybe she should shut up now. Years ago, when confronted by the over-confident, smart-mouthed Sam Hennessy, her instinct had been for flight. Now that she was older and could hold her own in verbal combat, her instincts told her to fight. But those instincts might get her into trouble. It usually did these days.

"Make sure Ronan doesn't try to climb out of his high chair, Maddie," Linda said as the kitchen door swung closed behind her.

Hearing his name, Ronan gurgled. Maddie tickled his chin until he squirmed and tried to launch himself out of the chair.

"Uh, Maddie," said Sam.

She sat Ronan up straight and dared him to move with a glare. "What?"

"The gravy..."

"Oh no!"

Sam beat her to the stove but not before gravy spilled down the sides of the saucepan. He turned down the burner and removed the saucepan.

"You watch the pots on the left," she said, "and I'll take the right. I don't know how Linda does this every day."

"I guess it's something you get used to."

"I doubt I ever could."

"Sure you would. When the time's right for you. Personally, I love it. Nothing like kids running around the house to make life interesting."

Maddie looked at him sideways. "You like kids?"

"Of course."

Was this the same Sam Hennessy who at fourteen rode a stolen motorbike through the school grounds? The same Sam Hennessy who wrote dirty limericks on the girl's toilet walls and spent more time in detention than regular classes? That Sam Hennessy wouldn't want kids cramping his lifestyle of wild parties and wilder dates.

He glanced around the kitchen then smiled at Ronan. The baby gurgled and grinned back. "Three kids and another on the way," he said with a shake of his head. "Who'd have thought your sister would settle down?"

"Not me. I thought I'd be the one with a husband and family by the time I was thirty and my sister would be the charity case I had over to dinner." At least, that was the way it was meant to be.

He smiled and his gaze grazed over her body before returning to her face. "You don't look like a charity case."

Maddie's skin grew warm and tingly from the heat cast by the stove. Definitely the stove. Sheesh, but it was hot in the kitchen

"Linda's changed a lot since school," he went on. "I remember her as a party animal. Never still for one second, always wanting to go out. I don't know how Pete kept up with her."

"He got her pregnant."

"Hasn't slowed her down from what I can see."

"She's only fourteen weeks. Wait till she's eight months and see her waddle after the other kids." She smiled. "Last time she perfected the art of shoe throwing. David soon learned he couldn't dodge it."

Sam laughed. "I guess apart from the kids, the house in the 'burbs and the shorter hair, your sister hasn't changed much. She's still the same bubbly Linda."

"You mean scatter-brained."

He held up both hands. "I didn't say it."

"It's okay, I'll take the heat if she overhears. I've been calling her that my entire life." Ever since Maddie came home with her first A. Linda had never produced anything higher than a B and that was in art class and only because she had chicken pox when the major piece had been due so Maddie, feeling sorry for her sister, had done it for her.

"She's not the only one that's changed around here," he said quietly.

She glanced over her shoulder and met the bluest set of eyes she'd ever seen. He grinned in that crooked, Sam Hennessy way that had always made her knees wobble. Flushing, she turned away too fast and bumped the saucepan handle, splashing gravy onto the stove.

Did he mean her? Had she changed? God, she hoped so. That high school kid had been an awkward geek. She was still a little geeky, but thankfully she'd grown out of the awkwardness—except when Sam showed up after fifteen years looking yummier than a double chocolate fudge sundae.

Linda blew into the kitchen. "Maddie," she said, "you were supposed to make sure Ronan didn't kill himself."

"What?" Oh God, she was the worst aunt in the world. Ronan was happily smacking his forehead with a spoon he'd grabbed off the bench. "He isn't hurt is he? I got distracted."

Linda's gaze shifted from Ronan to Maddie to Sam. She turned back to her sister and winked. "I bet."

Maddie rolled her eyes. Linda had as much subtlety as a naked Klingon at a Star Trek convention. "All present and accounted for in there?"

"Yes, but the walls are now decorated with pretty butterflies." Squeals erupted from the living room. "Sounds like Daddy's home."

Moments later, Pete loped into the kitchen in blue overalls and work boots. "Hey, how's my main man!" He gave Sam a manly hug, slapping him on the back. "It's good to see you."

Sam grinned. "Good to see you too, Mate. Been a while."

"Too long. So you going to tell us what the heck you're doing back in Melbourne?"

"Heck?"

Pete shrugged. "Yeah. Anything stronger than that and David's kindergarten teacher will let me know about it. The kid's a sponge. Soaks up everything I say then spouts it all out at kindy the next day."

"It makes a nice change to the swear words you used to use. Your vocabulary was pretty colorful."

"Mine! What about—"

"Pete," Linda warned in her mommy voice. "Not in front of the kids." She nodded at the door where two little faces appeared.

"I don't know how long I'm here for," Sam said, picking up the original thread of the conversation. "Maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks."

"Try to make it as long as possible," Pete said. "This is gonna be great. Just like old times." Unlike Sam, Pete had no hair. At Linda's urging, he'd shaved his off so the receding hairline was less noticeable. But when he was excited, like now, he had a habit of running his hand over his bald pate, as if to ruffle imaginary curls.

"So much to discuss," he said. "Fifteen years and not a word and then you call out of the blue. Jeez, where do we start?"

The enormity of the question must have overwhelmed them because both men said nothing.

Finally, Sam broke the silence. "Good to see the Aussies beating the Kiwis again in the cricket."

Typical men. Half a lifetime had passed since they'd seen each other and all they could talk about was sport.

Pete's face lit up. "What a fantastic—"

"Uh, guys," said Linda, "we're not interested in hearing about the cricket."

"Then we'll take this out to the back porch." Pete pecked his wife on the cheek and took Sam by the arm.

"We want to talk to Sam too," she protested.

"Too bad, he's mine."

Sam gave an apologetic shrug as Pete steered him out the door. David and Emily followed at a safe distance, eyes fixated on the stranger's back. Maddie's eyes were fixated on a point a little lower, but she was equally in awe. And in lust. Damn but he was one mighty fine masculine specimen.

"Did you see his butt?" Linda whispered hoarsely when they were alone. "Oh my God, has that man got a behind that I could just—"

"Linda! You're a married woman."

"Nothing wrong with window shopping. Besides, you're single. I was ogling on your behalf."

Maddie groaned. She hated when her sister played matchmaker. So far the men Linda had set her up with had all been construction-worker colleagues of Pete's. As cute and muscular as some of them had been, their idea of a spirited discussion was to debate the best wrestling match of all time. None of them could even spell molecule let alone know what it was.

"I know what you're thinking," Maddie said, "and don't. That guy is not my type."

Linda sighed. "Not this again. When are you going to give up on this perfect man theory?"

"It's not a theory, it's my standard. Every woman should have a standard."

"Maybe you shouldn't set yours so high."

Maddie bit back a retort about setting it too low. She liked Pete, she really did, it's just that she wouldn't have married him.

"My criteria aren't that tough."

Linda snorted. "Tough enough that no man can meet them."

"Is it my problem there aren't any intelligent, honest, interesting and sensitive men out there?"

"There's plenty. You just add too many other ingredients to the recipe. Like neatness, has to get on with Mum and likes kids. If I were you, I'd give up on the liking Mum part. That's asking a bit much. And neatness is over-rated. All you can expect from a man is that he doesn't wear the same pair of underwear more than once before he puts it in the laundry basket and he takes the rubbish out. Not necessarily in that order."

Maddie rolled her eyes so far back she saw stars. "I'm not living with a slob."

Linda waved a spoon in the air. "You're thirty now, Sis. Tick tock."

Maddie couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd thought her sister was on her side. "I've got plenty of time to settle down and start a family."

"Nice try, Mad, but I know you don't really think that."

She hated when Linda read her mind.

"I know about your Plan," her sister went on.

The Plan. Ever since she'd turned thirty it had hung over her head like a guillotine. The timetable for her life, along with the criteria for a perfect husband, had been devised in Cynthia Bolowski's tree house eighteen years ago. According to the Plan, Maddie should be happily married with one child and another on the way by now. Cynthia was married with two kids and a dog. Maddie had a university degree and a good job but neither of those things had made it onto the Plan. They just hadn’t seemed all that important when she was twelve.

Linda piled broccoli onto four of her best china plates and two plastic ones. "Let's look at this logically. Say you meet a guy today. You'll want to date for two years before you marry, then you should be married for a couple of years before you start a family. Two years between each kid will make you," she tapped each finger on the bench, counting out loud, "nearly forty by the time you have the fourth. Jeez, Mad, you better get started."

"I don't want four, I want two. Two's perfect. Three creates middle child syndrome and four means a bigger car. Two's ideal. As to the rest, who's to say I won't fall instantly in love and get married within six months?"

"I know you, that's what makes me say it. You'll need two years just to organize the damn wedding. Besides, it'll take you that long to find every quirk in his personality."

Maddie sniffed. "Well, whatever his assets, I am not interested in Sam Hennessy."

"Why not? If I recall, Mum used to like him."

"I don't care what Mum thinks! This has got nothing to do with my criteria." She plucked imaginary fluff off her tailored pants. The criteria, along with the Plan and her last tube of Clearasil, had long been relegated to the bin.

Linda smacked her hand lightly. "Stop fussing and tell me what the problem is. What's wrong with Sam Hennessy?"

"Okay." She took a deep breath. She'd never told anyone this before. She'd bottled it up inside since she was fifteen and had forgotten how much it had hurt until Sam turned up looking more gorgeous than ever. Well, here goes...