Like the First Time

by Francis Ray

  “Claire, you proved last night that you trust me. Right?” he asked softly.

  “Yes,” she managed.

  “Then believe me when I say you could never be anything but beautiful in my eyes. It’s not just on the outside, it’s on the inside, which is just as appealing to me.” He leaned her away from him. “I’ll get you a robe so you can go into the bathroom. I hung up your underthings last night so they should be dry. Everything you need should be in there. No clothes, but you can wear one of my shirts until I have Jay launder your clothes.”

  The idea of wearing Gray’s shirt appealed to her. “I’d rather do them myself.”

  “I’ll show you where the laundry room is after we eat.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “You know where the laundry room is?”

  “Yes, I want to know everything about the things I care about.” He touched her cheek gently, then stood to scoop up a black silk robe from the foot of the bed and held it out to her.

  She hadn’t noticed the robe because it had blended in with the bedding. But if she stood to put it on he’d see her in the revealing light of day.

  “Do you want me to leave the robe?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because I like looking at you.” He smiled and her heart turned over. She loved him so much.

  “I like looking at you, too.” Her hand loosened on the sheet and she stood quickly and shoved her arms into the robe. Gray belted it.

  “Don’t start breakfast without me.”

  He brushed his mouth across hers. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  She went to the bathroom with a smile on her lips.

  * * *

  Brooke couldn’t make up her mind.

  She looked around the aisle of the toy store and felt overwhelmed. If she were in the couture section of one of her favorite haunts she’d have no problem. She knew exactly what looked good on her, how to coordinate and accentuate. Finding the right accessory or clothes often took time, but she recognized what worked the instant she saw it. Toys were out of her league.

  She picked up a doll that needed its diaper changed, a doll that cried real tears, and a doll that crawled. And put them all back on the shelf.

  She was hopelessly out of her element. Perhaps if she’d had girlfriends she’d have a smidgen of an idea. But she’d always been closer to men. Of course, she’d had associates who were mothers. If she’d been invited to a baby shower or a child’s birthday party, she’d probably sent a gift certificate and gone on with her life. The thought made her sad.

  “Can I help you, miss?” A young sales clerk grinned at her.

  Brooke put his age at seventeen, vibrating with hormones he probably had no idea what to do with. “I’m looking for a toy for a four-year-old girl.”

  His gleeful expression fell. “I don’t know about girls.” His expression brightened. “At least, not at that age.”

  She went with her gut. “What’s the gift older girls like best?”

  He glanced around as if he were imparting the secret to cure the ills of mankind. “Teddy bears.”

  Amy had impressed Brooke as a four-year-old going on fifteen. “Lead the way. And while we’re at it, how about something for a studious eight-year-old in accelerated classes.”

  * * *

  Brooke found John listed in the phone book. Thirty minutes later she pulled up behind a late-model Ford in front of John’s house in a quiet neighborhood. The streets meandered around grand oaks, water marshes and nature preserves. The big front yard was expected. The rows of azaleas bordering the front and a couple of the trees in the yard were not. The roof and exterior of the house were blue, a legendary color in the low country. The three gabled dormers, wide porch, railings and posts were white.

  Brooke realized she was studying the house and putting off going inside and reached for the twelve-inch brown teddy bear. She’d ignored Cy the store clerk’s advice to buy a bigger one. She wanted Amy to be able to carry it with her without dragging it or tiring. Mark’s gift, however, was a different matter entirely.

  Getting out, she went up the steps. It was a nice home, but it could be fabulous with a few simple additions. The cool area of the porch cried out for wicker furniture for relaxing after a hard day at work. Perhaps interspersed Boston ferns with baskets of geraniums. She’d take up the straight walk; make it more interesting with a curve and …

  A car passed and she blinked. What was she doing? John did not need nor had he asked her for any home improvement tips. The only reason she could think of was that next to clothes, she and her mother both loved to redecorate. Maybe her mind had wandered in that direction because she’d been with her mother that morning.

  Refusing to think anything else, Brooke rang the doorbell. A young woman in a dark brown suit, her hair pulled back from her slim face, answered the door. She frowned, “Yes?”

  “Good evening, my name is Brooke Dunlap, I came to see Amy.”

  The woman’s unfriendly gaze flickered to the toys in Brooke’s hands. “She’s in the den with her father.” She opened the door wider and stepped back.

  “Thank you.”

  Brooke wanted to tell the unsmiling young woman that she was no threat to her. She didn’t want John. Wouldn’t take him on a silver platter overflowing with platinum cards. Then she saw John on the floor with Amy and her heart rapped out a beat that seemed to say liar, liar.

  “Brooke.” He came to his feet with Amy in his arms. In a white tee shirt and snug jeans, he looked more tempting than any man had a right to.

  “Hi, Brooke,” Amy and Mark greeted with wide smiles. After last night their father had finally let them call her by her first name.

  “Hi, guys. I brought you a present.”

  “Let me down, Daddy.” Amy wiggled out of her father’s arms.

  Mark watched her with solemn eyes. “For me, too? But I didn’t hurt myself.”

  Brooke had never been happier about an impulsive buy. She hunkered down to eye level with him. “You held your sister’s hand and took care of her. For that, you deserve a present, too.”

  “Thank you.” Mark took the present and sat down to slowly tear off the paper. Aware of Amy’s impatience, Brooke opened the large shopping bag and allowed Amy to peek in. “Like it?”

  The little girl squealed and made a motion with her bandaged hand to pick up the bear.

  Brooke was already reaching for the toy when John squatted down to help. Their hands brushed. They both jumped. Brooke’s eyes went to John’s.

  “Daddy, I want my teddy.”

  “Sure, honey.” Pulling the animal out, he handed it to Amy, who promptly hugged it to her with her good arm. “Thank you, Brooke.”

  “You’re welcome.” Brooke looked anywhere but at John.

  “The children were about to eat,” said the woman who had answered the door, watching from the entryway with obvious disapproval. “I’m sure you’ll understand.”

  Brooke pictured the sour-faced woman flat on her back. Two seconds max. John pushed upright. “Brooke just arrived, Mary. A few more minutes won’t hurt. I thank you for dropping by, but I can manage the dinner Mama brought over this morning.”

  Although she knew it was wrong, Brooke looked up and grinned. “Goodbye.”

  “Don’t think I don’t know who you are!” Mary said with heat. “You’re that woman in those disgraceful pictures.”

  Brooke’s assessing gaze swept up the woman’s thin frame, her tight mouth. “I get the feeling you wished it were you instead.”

  Mary gasped. An intake of breath she held so long her body trembled.

  Brooke remembered too late there were two children listening. She came upright. “Gotta run. Bye, kids. Enjoy.”

  “Brooke—”

  She waved John’s words aside, heading for the door as fast as her feet would take her. Opening the door, she made her escape.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  What John knew about women he could put on the head of a pin. He refused to let t
hat be the case with his two children.

  John cut a quick glance in the rearview mirror of his truck into the back seat of the cab where Mark and Amy were seated. Neither had said anything since they left their grandparents’ house ten minutes ago. He pulled to a stoplight, and glanced in the mirror again. Their somber expressions remained the same. Mark might sit still, but never Amy. Her grandmother lovingly called her a wiggle worm. John had to agree. Amy’s motto was, why walk when running was so much more fun.

  “You kids, all right?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  The car behind him honked and John pulled off. He wanted polite children like everyone else, but something was wrong here and had been since Brooke’s visit. He’d broken a cardinal rule for a school night, and kept them out past their bedtime of eight in a futile attempt to cheer them up with a visit to their favorite fast-food restaurant and then to their grandparents. It hadn’t helped.

  Amy had an armlock around the teddy bear Brooke had given her. At Mark’s feet was the motorized car he’d taken with him everywhere. Brooke had made as big an impression on his children as she had on him. He glanced into the mirror again, then took the next right to Highway 17. He was doing this for his kids.

  Less than ten minutes later he pulled the truck into the driveway of the luxury condominium and stopped at the security gate. “John, Mark, and Amy Randle to see Brooke Dunlap.”

  “One moment, sir.”

  “We’re going to see Brooke?”

  “Brooke lives here?”

  “Yes.” And if she refused to see us I really will wring her beautiful neck.

  “Have a good night, sir.” The black steel gate started to retract.

  John drove through. They were in, but what would he say once he saw her?

  * * *

  Brooke was waiting at the elevator for them. She couldn’t imagine a protective father like John being out with his children on a Sunday night just driving around. Maybe Amy was sick again? Or Mark?

  The elevator slid open and the two she had been worried about shot out. “Brooke! Brooke!”

  She automatically squatted to hug them both, careful of Amy’s arm. “Are you all right?”

  “They are now.”

  Brooke’s gaze shot up to John, all mouth-watering, six-foot-plus of him. “What happened?”

  “We wanted you to stay for dinner instead of Mary. She always—”

  “Amy,” John said quietly.

  “She’s not any fun,” Amy finished.

  Same thing Brooke had thought. She stood with her hand on Amy’s head and Mark’s shoulder. “Have you had a chance to test the car, Mark?”

  “Not yet.” He drew the Corvette closer to his chest. “I was afraid it would run into something.”

  She threw John a chilling glance, then smiled down at Mark and lifted the car from his arms and put it on the carpeted hallway. “My condo is straight ahead. Go for it.”

  His fingers moved over the control. He looked up at his father. “Can I?”

  “Let it rip.”

  “Wait!” Amy laid her teddy beat across the seat. “Mr. Bear wants to ride.”

  “If he falls off, you won’t cry, will you?”

  “He won’t fall off. Mr. Bear is smart.”

  Brooke hid a smile behind her hand. John pretended to be rubbing his nose, as he tried to hide his smile.

  The ’Vette took off with a whirr of its motor. Brooke flinched as the car came perilously close to hitting the wall.

  “Hold on, Mr. Bear!” Amy cried and started after the car and her stuffed animal at a dead run.

  John scooped her up and kept going, careful to stay to one side so Mark could see. “Slow it down, son.”

  With his tongue in the side of his cheek, Mark brought the car to a halt inches from her door. “I did it!”

  There was awe and wonder in his face and voice. Brooke hugged him before she thought better. “Never had a doubt. Come on. Let’s go inside and see what else that baby can do.”

  A lot, they soon learned. Amy had long since decided she didn’t want Mr. Bear to have a boo-boo like she did, so he stayed safely in her arms.

  John watched his son forget his shyness as he and Brooke put the car through its paces. He wasn’t surprised to hear her say she’d had one as a child. She’d wanted to do what the boys did. This, of course, got Amy’s attention. As soon as her arm was better, she said, she was driving it. Mark said nothing. John knew a fight was in the making.

  “Time to go, kids.” The expected protests were ignored. “Thank Brooke and let’s go. Neither one of you is going to want to get up in the morning.”

  She hugged and kissed both children. John had never been envious of his children, but he wouldn’t have minded a hug at the moment. Hell, he wanted the kiss, too.

  He hefted up Amy. “Thank you,” he told Brooke.

  “I enjoyed having them.” She stroked Amy’s cheek and placed her hand on Mark’s shoulder.

  “Can you come to supper tomorrow night?” Mark asked. “She can, can’t she, Dad?”

  “I’m sure your father has other plans.”

  He could read her like a book. She had gone all stiff on him. “I didn’t invite Mary for dinner and if you hadn’t left in such a hurry you would have heard me tell her how rude she was.”

  “We all wanted you to stay,” Mark said, catching her free hand with his.

  “What do you want, John?”

  A thousand erotic things. None of which could be said in front of his children. “I try to get home for dinner around six. It’s lasagna.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be there.”

  The children cheered. Mark reminded Brooke of the address before John could open his mouth.

  She smiled down at him. “You’re such a smart and courteous young man. Good night, John. Be careful of your arm at school tomorrow, Amy. Mark, I expect to hear about the camping trip tomorrow night. You went to my hometown.”

  John appreciated that she had included both his children, made them feel that she cared. Nodding, he headed for the elevator. The caring side of Brooke might be even more dangerous than the seductive one.

  * * *

  Lorraine was determined that Hamilton not spoil the success of Bliss. She’d left home early on purpose. She didn’t think she could stand the tension again that morning. Hamilton’s anger was such a startling contrast to the support and encouragement Thomas gave. She paused in front of the display window of Bliss. She was not giving up her dream.

  “Morning, Lorraine.”

  “Morning.”

  Lorraine looked over her shoulder to see Brooke and Claire coming toward her. There was no mistaking the happiness shining in their faces. “Well, you two are walking advertisements for the store.”

  Claire’s smile widened. “I wish every woman could feel at least one time in her life the way I do this morning.”

  Brooke grinned. “I want to hear every detail about the weekend.”

  Claire blushed, but she didn’t tuck her head. “I wouldn’t want to make you jealous.”

  Brooke hooted and bumped her shoulder against Claire’s. “That’s my girl.”

  Lorraine opened the door, happy for them. She just wished her life wasn’t in such turmoil. “Let’s get inside and make some coffee.”

  Arm and arm, Brooke and Claire entered the shop in front of Lorraine. “Good thing we all decided to come in early,” Lorraine said. “It will take us at least that long to straighten up the place and restock.”

  In the back office Brooke filled the carafe with tap water, instead of the spring water she’d always used before she lost her job. “I have to confess I came early in hopes that I can leave a bit early.”

  “Hot date?” Claire asked, putting all their purses away.

  Brooke shrugged her shoulder. “Not exactly. I’m having dinner with John and the children. It’s no big deal.”

  Lorraine and Claire traded looks.

  “Is th
at why you’re wearing that sexy blouse with a double ruffle that’s guaranteed to draw a man’s attention?” Lorraine asked.

  Brooke cut off the water. “Do you think it’s too much? I decided on the pants instead of the short skirt. The jacket is in the car.”

  The other two women laughed. Brooke had never been in doubt of what to wear. “You look beautiful, sophisticated, seductive,” Lorraine said.

  “That’s what I was aiming for.” Brooke hit the coffeemaker’s switch. “I decided to give John another chance. He might irritate the hell out of me, but he’s a wonderful father.”

  “That he is,” Claire said, picking up a box of Honeysuckle Soufflé square pillar candles. “I’ve said it before, but thanks for going with him, and letting us know Amy was all right.”

  “She’s a character,” Brooke admitted with a chuckle. “But Mark is the one that steals your heart. He’s so serious all time that you want to help him cut loose.”

  “You can certainly teach him that,” Lorraine said, a bottle of glass spray and paper towels in her hand.

  “That’s what I figured.” Brooke took the box from Claire. “So give with your disgustingly happy self.”

  A dreamy smile came on her face as Claire walked into the store. “Gray is the most wonderful, considerate man in the world. We had a celebration dinner on his yacht. It rained. We got wet.”

  “And?” Brooke prompted.

  Claire began stacking candles on the glass shelf. “You sure you want to hear?”

  “As long as I’m not getting any, I might as well hear about it.” Brooke began helping.

  Claire squatted to fill the lower shelf. She glanced up at Brooke. “Being with Gray was the most frightening, exhilarating experience of my life. It was like catching the perfect sunset again and again, sheer joy, sheer pleasure, where all your senses are alive, reliving that perfect moment again and again.”

  There was a long silence. “You love him?”

  “Yes.” Claire didn’t even try to deny Brooke’s statement.

  Brooke came down beside her. “Be careful.”

  “Too late. I won’t give up what we have worrying about tomorrow. I’d rather spend the time loving Gray,” Claire declared.