Your Bed Or Mine?

Jake felt a warm body beside him.

It had been years – eleven, to be exact – but Caley Lambert was exactly as he’d remembered her. His gaze drifted down to her lips, soft and full and slightly parted. She was all woman now – sexy, soft and warm. And she was sleeping in his bed…

Jake leaned over, touching his lips to hers. She obviously wanted something to happen. It was a pretty bold move…but Caley had never been known to wait when she wanted something. And he could only hope she wanted him as much as he was starting to want her…

“Jake,” she whispered.

The sound of his name on her lips was like fuel on a fire. His desire surged and he kissed her again, deeper, harder this time. This was Caley, the girl he’d wanted all his life. She could be his now…

But as he settled above her, an uneasy feeling came over him. Something wasn’t right.

“Caley. Open your eyes.”

Her lashes fluttered, and a moment later she was looking at him, first in confusion, then in absolute shock.

He’d known it was too good to last…

KATE HOFFMANN

has been writing stories for Mills & Boon since 1993. She’s written over fifty books for Mills & Boon, including the popular MIGHTY QUINNS series. kate lives in a small town in Wisconsin with her cats and her computer. Besides writing, she works with school students in theatre and musical activities. She also enjoys golf, movies, music of all kinds and genealogy research.

Dear Reader,

I’ve always had a soft spot for stories about childhood sweethearts. And when I was working on this idea for THE WRONG BED series, I thought about twisting that concept a little and giving you a hero and heroine who weren’t quite sweethearts but still managed to carry a pretty big torch for each other.

Jake and Caley come back to the small lake community where they’d spent their summers to serve as best man and maid of honour at a Valentine’s Day wedding between their two siblings. The book is set in my home state of Wisconsin. And since Wisconsin can be pretty cold in February, I had to find new ways to keep my hero and heroine warm – and then hot. But I have to admit, it was a pain dealing with all those layers of clothes.

I hope Your Bed or Mine? keeps you nice and warm wherever you are.

Happy reading,

Kate Hoffmann

BY

KATE HOFFMANN

MILLS & BOON

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1

HUGE SNOWFLAKES drifted down through the night sky, spattering against the windshield of Caley Lambert’s rental car. She watched through tired eyes as the wipers slapped them away, the rhythmic sound lulling her toward complete exhaustion. Her eyelids fluttered and she felt herself drifting, then reached down and opened the window.

The chilly night air was a slap to the face and Caley drew a deep breath. The flight from New York had been late getting into Chicago and by the time she’d arrived, the airport hotel had given away her room. Left with nowhere to sleep, she’d decided to drive the two hours to her parents’ lake house rather than waste time searching for a room.

It wasn’t so much an urge to get home that sent her into the midst of a snowstorm, but the fact that Caley just hated wasting time. After eleven years of living in Manhattan and seven years of working the cutthroat world of public relations, she’d learned to be very efficient with every minute of her day. She didn’t waste time on anything that couldn’t get her ahead in the world professionally. She worked out because the gym was a good place to network. She belonged to seven different professional organizations because all those names looked good on her résumé. And she had worked sixteen-hour days for seven years because that was the way to get herself a partnership.

“So what am I doing in North Lake, Wisconsin?” she muttered.

Her younger sister, Emma, had called a few weeks ago, insisting that Caley come home for the week before Valentine’s Day. Emma had a very special event planned at the lake house, but she refused to give any details, only that every one of the Lamberts should be in attendance. Caley’s parents had been married on Valentine’s Day thirty years ago, so it hadn’t been difficult to guess at the purpose of her sister’s plans.

An electronic version of Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” interrupted Caley’s thoughts and she glanced over at her cell phone sitting on the passenger seat. Snatching it up, she looked at the caller ID, then tossed it back onto the seat. Brian. He’d called at least twenty times since she’d left New York for a business trip in San Francisco a few days ago. So far she’d avoided answering.

She and Brian had been exclusive for nearly two years and he’d planned to come to North Lake with her and meet the family. But at the last minute, he’d canceled, begging off because of work commitments. It was at that moment Caley realized her relationship with Brian had become a waste of time. Between out-of-town business trips and busy schedules, they’d spent three nights together in the past month—not much considering they lived in the same apartment.

She squinted through the snow, searching for the sign pointing to West Shore Road. There was a time when she’d known every inch of the tiny town of North Lake. She’d spent every summer of her life here until she’d gone to college.

Even after years of being away from this place, and in the midst of a chilly winter night, she felt a familiar sense of excitement course through her. She remembered the frantic packing the day after school let out for the summer. And then came the ride from Chicago to the lake in an overstuffed minivan, her mother behind the wheel. Her older brother, Evan, always sat in the front and controlled the radio while Caley sat between her younger siblings Emma and Adam. The youngest, Teddy, was wedged into the far back seat between the suitcases and the boxes of kitchen supplies. Her younger siblings had always worn their swimming suits on the ride up so they could jump out of the car and into the lake without having to change.

But Caley had always had other things on her mind. With each mile that passed, she’d grown more excited, the anticipation building, the nerves fraying. What would he look like? Would he be exactly as she remembered or would he have changed? Had she changed? Would he see her differently? Would this summer finally be the summer when she’d kiss him?

Year after year, drive after drive, her every thought had always been focused on him. Even now, Caley found herself falling back into old habits. Jake Burton. He’d been her fairy-tale prince, her knight in shining armor, her schoolgirl crush and her first love, all wrapped up into one incredibly hot boy.

His family had the summerhouse next door. They’d all summered together for years: the five Lamberts and the five Burtons, an unruly tribe of kids known around North Lake as the Burtberts. For years she’d looked at Jake like her older brother, Evan—an icky, gross, burping and spitting cad who had more cooties than she cared to count.

Then, one day they were swimming out to the raft and Jake dunked her under. She’d gone under as an eleven-year-old girl and surfaced a teenager with her first crush. He’d been thirteen that summer and a handsome boy. Even now she recalled his pale blue eyes and his perfect teeth. How little droplets of water had clung to his dark eyelashes as he smiled at her and how his face was so smooth and tanned she felt compelled to reach out and touch his cheek.

When she had, Jake had slapped her hand away, a confused frown wrinkling his forehead. But from that moment on, she’d been in love. It was only later that her hormones had turned chaste puppy love to teenage lust. And later still to feelings that bordered on obsession and finally, ended in humiliation.

She drew in a deep breath and sighed. Over the past eleven years, she’d managed to visit the lake house only when Jake was certain to be elsewhere. Yet, with each visit she’d secretly hoped that maybe she’d run into him again, maybe she’d have a chance to undo the mess she’d made the night of her eighteenth birthday.

Her phone rang again and Caley cursed as she picked it up. But this time, she didn’t recognize the number, only the Manhattan area code. Now that she’d been named a partner, her boss was free to call her at any time, day or night, and John Walters had taken advantage of that fact more than once. Caley wondered what kind of emergency had come up at nearly 4:00 a.m. Manhattan time.

She flipped open the phone and held it to her ear. “Hello?”

“I figured you were screening so I was forced to call from the payphone on the corner.”

Caley recognized Brian’s voice and bit back another curse. “I really don’t want to talk to you. I said everything I needed to say before I left. It’s over.”

“Caley, we can work this out. You can’t just end it. Everything was going so well.”

She laughed, shaking her head at his ability to spin the situation. Brian was one of the most successful young lawyers on Wall Street. Like her, he could put a positive spin on the worst disaster imaginable.

“How can you say that?” she asked. “We barely see each other. And when we do, we have nothing to say. We talk about work.”

“What do you want? I can talk about other things.”

“That’s not the point,” Caley said, growing more frustrated. Usually, she was able to express her views clearly and unemotionally. But this time she had no idea what she wanted. She just knew she didn’t want to come home to Brian anymore. For a long time, her life had felt out of balance and this was the only way she could think to fix it.

“What is the point?” he asked.

“I—” she took a deep breath “—I’m not happy.”

“When has that ever made a difference to you? You work nonstop, you never take a vacation, every minute of your life is planned. Of course you’re not happy. Who would be? But, Caley, that’s the way you like it.”

“Not anymore,” she said. “It just doesn’t feel right.” Suddenly, she felt a panic grip her body. Was this the right thing to do? Was she really ready to give up? A buzzing in her ears made her dizzy and for a moment she thought she might pass out. “I—I have to go. I’ll call you when I get back and we’ll sort out all the details. Goodbye, Brian.”

Caley quickly pulled over to the curb and rolled the window down, breathing deeply of the cold night air. For the past month, she’d been fighting these panic attacks. They’d become an almost-daily occurrence. She’d blamed them on the stress of being named a partner, on living in Manhattan, on her doubts about Brian. But Caley sensed that none of these factors were really the cause.

The sound of a siren startled her and Caley looked in the rearview mirror to find a police car pulling up behind her, lights flashing. She hadn’t even been close to the speed limit! But when she’d pulled over to the curb, she might have swerved too suddenly in the snow. Caley watched in the side mirror as the police officer got out of his SUV and approached the car. A sudden shiver of fear raced through her. She’d seen the stories on the news. Rapists and serial killers posing as policemen. Caley brushed the thought aside. This was North Lake. Things like that happened in New York, not in Wisconsin.

When the officer reached her car, he tapped at the window with his flashlight. Caley pressed the button on the console and the window slid down an inch. “Show me your badge,” she demanded. He held it out and Caley snatched it from him. It looked real enough. She opened the window a little more and handed it back.

“License and registration, please,” he said.

“I-I’m not sure I have a registration,” Caley said. “This is a rental.” She pulled her license out of her wallet and handed it to him, then reached for the glove box. “The car comes from Speedy Rental at O’Hare. I have the rental agreement right here.” She handed him the paperwork, then peered out at him. “I wasn’t speeding.”

“You were talking on a cell phone,” he replied. “We have an ordinance against that in North Lake. Have you been drinking, ma’am?”

“No,” Caley said, stunned by his question. “I just pulled over because I was tired. I needed some fresh air.”

He paused as he examined her license. “Caroline Lenore Lambert,” he muttered. “You’re Caley Lambert?” He shone the flashlight in her face and Caley squinted.

“Yes.”

“One of the Burtbert kids?”

“Yes,” she replied.

He turned the flashlight off, then leaned down, sending her a friendly smile. “Well, don’t you remember me?” He pointed to the name tag pinned to his jacket. “Jeff Winslow. We went out on a few dates the summer of…well, it doesn’t really matter. I took you sailing. I ran the boat aground over near Raspberry Island and you called me an idiot and dumped a can of Coke on my head.”

Caley did remember. It was the sailing equivalent of running out of gas on a deserted country road. She also remembered how Jeff Winslow had tried to kiss her and feel her up and how he’d chided her for acting like a priss. Most of the boys she’d dated that summer before college had served just one purpose for Caley—they were a feeble attempt to make Jake Burton jealous.

“Of course,” Caley replied. “Jeff Winslow. My goodness, you’re a policeman now? That’s almost ironic considering all the trouble you used to cause.”

“Yeah. A misspent youth. But I’ve reformed. I got a degree in criminal justice, then worked for the Chicago P.D.,” he said. “Then I heard they were looking for a police chief here and I thought, what the hell. I’d been shot at four times in Chicago and figured my number was coming up. So I came home.” He chuckled. “I guess you’ve caught yourself a lucky break.”

“I have?”

He flipped his ticket book closed and tucked it back into his jacket. “I’m going to let you off with a warning.” He returned her driver’s license. “As long as you promise not to talk on your cell phone while you’re driving. It’s against the law in the entire county and it’s a pretty big fine.”

“Thank you,” Caley said.

“So, what have you been up to? The last time I saw you in North Lake you were just out of high school.”

“I work in New York,” Caley said. “I don’t get back much.”

“Too bad,” Jeff said. “Living in the city is great, but I never really appreciated this place until I left. There’s something special about North Lake…something peaceful.” He shrugged, then tapped her window with his finger. “You drive carefully, Caley. The roads are slick. And if I catch you talking on your cell phone again, I’m going to have to give you a ticket.”

“I understand,” Caley said.

“Good night, then.”

For a moment, she sensed he might have something else to say. But then, he turned and walked back to his SUV. A few seconds later, the lights stopped flashing and Caley took that as her cue to pull out onto the street. Moments later, she spotted West Shore Road and made the turn, Officer Jeff following her at a distance.

The houses along the shore were dark, most of them unoccupied in the winter, and she squinted to see the mailboxes through the snow. She passed by the sign for the Burtons’ driveway; the next one belonged to her parents’ house. A small light glowed at the end of the drive and she turned in and steered the car down the steep slope through the leafless trees, holding her breath the entire way. The SUV continued past, Officer Jeff apparently satisfied that she’d made it to her destination.

She switched off the ignition and stared at the house through the icy car window. It was even more picturesque in the winter, the roof covered with snow, icicles hanging from the gutters on the white clapboard facade. Looking at the peaceful setting, Caley knew it would be impossible to get any work done while home with her family. And though she felt she needed a break from work, she knew she couldn’t. So she had made a reservation, starting the next night, at the inn downtown. Between Evan’s three kids and the usual craziness that occurred when her boisterous family was together, Caley was certain she’d need a place to hide out.

Caley stepped out of the car and grabbed her bags from the back seat. She couldn’t help but glance over at the Burtons’ house. There was a light on in the kitchen, but the rest of the house was dark. No doubt Ellis and Fran Burton would be at the anniversary celebration. But there would be no reason for their children to be invited. Still, Caley had to wonder if there was a chance she’d see Jake. And if she did, what would it be like between them. Would he remember that night on the beach? Would he pretend as if nothing had happened?

It had been eleven years. Maybe it was time to let it go, Caley mused. She’d been a kid with a crush. She hadn’t seen Jake since the night before she left for NYU. Until now, the memory of that night had always brought a surge of regret and utter humiliation.

They were adults now and if he wanted to rehash her silly teenage indiscretion, then she would simply refuse to discuss it. Certainly he’d made mistakes in his youth that he didn’t want brought up around his family. Caley tried to think of one or two just in case she needed ammunition.

They had gotten into all sorts of trouble as kids. Even now, Caley was amazed that she’d managed to avoid a life as a juvenile delinquent. But she and Jake had been a pair and she’d been the only one of the Burtberts who ever accepted his dares.

She smiled. Once, they’d caught a squirrel in a live trap and let it go inside the police chief’s cruiser. Then there had been the time she and Jake had stolen a bike from the town bully. The next morning, the kid found his bike bobbing up and down on the raft just off the public beach. That trick had gained them a lot of admirers, although they never admitted to it. And then, there had been all those times they’d broken into their “fortress,” a deserted summerhouse on the east shore.

The house was dark and silent as she slipped inside. No one ever locked the door when the family was at home. She stood in the spacious foyer and took a deep breath, the familiar scent teasing at her nose—a mix of the lake and leaves, old wood and furniture polish and the vanilla candles her mother loved to burn to take the damp out of the air. Once, she’d known every inch of this house, every secret hiding place, every sun-drenched window. It had been her very own castle.

Caley slowly climbed the stairs then walked down the hall to her bedroom. But when she pushed the door open, she saw the room was already occupied—Evan’s kids, two in the bed and the youngest in a portable crib.

She carefully closed the door and walked across the hall. Emma would probably have room in her bed. She slipped inside her sister’s room and closed the door behind her. Caley set her bag down and walked to the bed. The room was chilly and Emma had found a down comforter and was buried beneath it, her pillow pulled over her head.

“Em?” Caley whispered as she stood over the bed. She shrugged out of her jacket and kicked off her shoes. Emma had always been a heavy sleeper. Caley sat on the edge of the bed. She could probably find an empty couch downstairs, but she was too exhausted to search. She’d catch a few hours’ sleep and check into the inn for a long nap in the morning.

Caley slipped out of her jeans and crawled beneath the comforter, pulling it up to her chin. She closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to the last summer she’d spent at the lake house. Jake had been home from college that summer after his sophomore year. From the moment he’d arrived, Caley had been completely and thoroughly obsessed with him. He was gorgeous, lean and tanned and so incredibly sexy that Caley was sure she would die if she couldn’t be with him.

The summer had passed, Caley trying anything and everything to get him to notice her. Finally, on the night of her eighteenth birthday party, she had decided to make a bold move. College was just a few days away and she didn’t want to leave for NYU a virgin. So she’d screwed up her courage, gotten Jake alone on the beach, torn off her shirt and asked him to make a woman out of her.

Caley groaned inwardly, pulling the comforter up to her nose. Even after all these years, the thought of her stupid offer was enough to bring a blush to her cheeks. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that Jake wouldn’t show up in North Lake until she was gone.

He was probably miles away, Caley mused. Maybe even sleeping beside another woman. She frowned at the tiny sliver of jealousy that pricked at her thoughts. The torch she’d carried for Jake had been extinguished a long time ago. It wasn’t jealousy. Closer to envy, Caley thought, for she had imagined Jake happy and settled and maybe even in love.

He probably had everything in life he’d ever wanted. And she was still trying to figure out what she needed to make herself happy. Caley thought she’d have all the answers by the time she was thirty. Now, her twenty-ninth birthday was just a few months away. There wasn’t much time left.

Maybe a week away from New York and the life she’d built there would give her some perspective, a quiet moment to figure things out. Caley yawned, threw her arm over her eyes. She’d have plenty of time to think about all this tomorrow. Right now, she needed sleep.

THE SOUND OF A CELL PHONE ringing dragged Jake Burton out of a deep and comfortable sleep. He groaned softly, then realized that the electronic jingle didn’t belong to his phone. It was only then that Jake felt the warm body beside him.

At first he thought he was dreaming, but the weight of her leg thrown across his thighs was real, as was the citrusy scent of her hair. He tried to move his arm and found her head nestled against his shoulder.

A name, he thought to himself. He was in bed with a woman and he couldn’t remember her name. Though he’d indulged in a number of one-night stands in the past, he’d pretty much given that up as of late.

The phone continued to ring and then stopped suddenly. Where had they met? Where had he been last night? Jake waited for the signs of a raging hangover to seep into his consciousness, but strangely enough, he knew he hadn’t been drinking. If that was the case, then why couldn’t he remember the woman?

“Think,” he whispered as he slowly opened his eyes. His surroundings were completely unfamiliar. But then, slowly, he realized where he was. The Lamberts’ lake house. Emma’s bedroom. But if that was where he was, then who the hell was in bed with him? Surely not his future sister-in-law!

He pushed up on his elbow and squinted at the clock. Six a.m. He looked down at his bedmate, then carefully brushed the wavy dark hair away from her face. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, snatching his hand away. It had been years—eleven, to be exact—but there was no mistaking that beautiful profile, the upturned nose with the light dusting of freckles, the flawless skin and the long lashes.

She was exactly as he’d remembered her, only Caley Lambert was no longer a gawky teenage girl. She was a woman. His gaze drifted down to her lips, soft and full and slightly parted. A very sexy, soft, warm woman. But what the hell was she doing in his bed?