Like the First Time

by Francis Ray

  “I wish I had your courage,” Lorraine said softly. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  Claire went to Lorraine on the other side of the counter. “You have more courage than either of us. Despite everything, you keep going. You won’t give up.”

  “She’s right. Anyone who can look adversity in the eyes has my vote.” Brooke came up beside her. “Besides, I’ve seen Hamilton watching you. He loves you no matter what comes out of his mouth.”

  “Some men can be so trying at times,” Lorraine said with feeling.

  “You won’t get an argument from me,” Claire said.

  “We just have to be smart enough to teach them better,” Brooke said with an emphatic shake of her head. “My money is on us.”

  * * *

  Hamilton couldn’t find the black pinstriped suit he wanted to wear, the white cotton shirt with the monogrammed French cuffs to go with it, nor his black silk underwear. He shoved a dresser drawer closed then opened another. He liked silk underwear, but had never been comfortable with the housekeeper laundering them. Lorraine always made sure he had plenty. Until now.

  He opened and slammed another drawer. Red, blue—polka dots his children had given him as a gag—but not black. It might be crazy to some, but once he could afford to do so, he always matched from the skin out. He’d grown up wearing patchwork clothes. He promised himself he’d never do so again.

  If Lorraine hadn’t been so busy with Bliss this wouldn’t have happened. He didn’t consider the consequences, he just went to the phone on the bedside table and dialed.

  “Bliss. May I help you?”

  Hearing Lorraine’s cheery voice wanting to help some stranger when she hadn’t helped her husband, the man who loved her, hit Hamilton the wrong way. “You forgot to wash my black briefs.”

  There was a distinct pause. “You have others.”

  “I want to wear those with my black Hugo Boss pinstripe that you were supposed to get out of the cleaners last week.”

  “I see.”

  “You see,” Hamilton said, pacing the floor, his anger growing by the second. “What does that mean?”

  “Simply that you will have to rely on yourself to pick up your laundry and dry cleaning, wash your briefs and all the other things I’ve done for you over the years. It’s my time, Hamilton, and I’m going to get my business going,” she said. “You never had to worry about the children nor the house when you opened Corporate Revitalization LLC, did you?”

  He didn’t want to answer, but didn’t see how he could get out of it. They both knew the answer. “No.”

  “Then be as resilient as I was and take care of yourself. Goodbye, I have a company to run.”

  Hamilton hung up the phone and sat on the bed. He didn’t want to take care of himself. He wanted Loraine to do it, but it no longer looked as if he had a choice.

  * * *

  Lorraine slammed the phone down. “Hamilton, I take it,” Brooke said, entering the back room.

  Lorraine closed her eyes and counted to ten, then ten again before she opened her eyes and said, “Yes. Can you believe he actually tried to scold me for not picking up his dry cleaning and washing his briefs?”

  Brooke picked up a case of BTS products. “As a matter of fact, I can. Mom and Dad both worked, but Daddy would come home from work and sit on the couch and wait for Mama to cook, then bring him a plate. I asked her why she did all the housework and she said it was too late to train him, and if she acted differently he might think she didn’t love him.” Brooke shrugged her shoulders. “I asked Daddy why he didn’t do more for himself and he always said Mama enjoyed taking care of him. My uncles are the same way.”

  Lorraine stared at the ceiling. “I did the same with Hamilton. I haven’t worked since the oldest started kindergarten. That’s a lot of years to overcome.”

  “You ask me, they just enjoy being waited on hand and foot.” Brooke harrumphed. “When I get married, we’re hiring a housekeeper and cook from day one.”

  “We couldn’t afford it when were first married and I have to admit I enjoyed taking care of Hamilton and the children,” Lorraine told her, then quickly added, “But now I want my freedom to do what I want. Thomas sees it. Why can’t Hamilton?”

  “I don’t know, but you might have waited too late,” Brooke told her. “Sounds as if Hamilton is thoroughly spoiled. If my mother told Daddy to start taking care of himself, he’d be lost. Just as Hamilton appears to be.”

  Lorraine considered what Brooke had told her. “You think the change was too abrupt?”

  “If he’s getting on your case about his briefs not being clean, it is. He probably has a drawer full.”

  “Make that two.”

  “Exactly,” Brooke said. “It’s not the briefs he’s upset about, it’s that it’s one more thing he sees that’s changing that he can’t control. Men hate change, and being out of control of their lives, worse than any woman who ever lived.”

  “What do you suggest?” Lorraine asked. Brooke certainly seemed to know more about men than she did.

  “Pick out a couple of things you know Hamilton goes bonkers over, do those and give the rest to him. If he still balks, tell him what you can do and let him choose two, that way you make him think he’s still in charge,” she finished.

  Lorraine gave her a hug, then laughed. “You’re brilliant.”

  “No, I just grew up surrounded by men.” Brooke smiled, then sobered. “That’s why I can’t understand why I can’t figure John out or why he makes me want to tear off his clothes every time I see him.

  “Maybe you’ll find out this afternoon at dinner,” Lorraine said, wondering if Brooke realized she hadn’t mentioned Randolph’s name in weeks.

  A wary sigh drifted from Brooke’s lips. “I hope so. It’s humiliating knowing he knows I’m a heartbeat away from dragging him to the floor.”

  “If the photo shoot is any indication, you may be closer than that.”

  * * *

  Monday morning Gray stepped off the elevator whistling and started down the wide hallway to his corner office. He felt loose, energized. He’d gotten a chance to call Claire before she left for work. Her sleepy voice had him wishing he were there with her. The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough so he could see her again.

  It was all he could do this morning to leave her sleeping while he slipped out of her bed. If he hadn’t, he would have made love to her again and he wanted her to have some rest before she went to work that morning. He couldn’t get enough. No woman had ever affected him so strongly. Loving Claire was a sweet addiction that he had no intention of seeking a cure for.

  Opening the outer door to his secretary’s office, he strolled inside. “Good morning, Phyllis.”

  Gray’s secretary glanced up from the folder in her hand. “Good morning. I can see that you had a good weekend.”

  Since he was grinning, there was no sense denying the obvious. “Yes, and yours?”

  “All right. My husband’s parents came up for the weekend and I didn’t get a chance to attend the grand opening of Bliss.” She swiveled toward him in her chair. “How was it?”

  “The shelves were practically bare by the time they closed.” There was pride in his voice.

  Phyllis looked pained. “I hope they have more of the hand cream Ms. Bennett gave me. My mother-in-law loved the way it smelled and made her skin feel soft.”

  Claire’s skin was as smooth as velvet. He’d loved and tasted practically every delectable inch of it. His body hardened and he was glad he had his attaché case in his hand. He reached for his door. “I’m sure they have more.”

  Phyllis turned back to the file. “I better finish up this report you wanted this morning, then I can run over there on my lunch break. Maybe I’ll get a couple of friends to go with me.”

  “You do that.” Gray pushed open his door.

  “FedEx delivered an overnight package this morning. I put it on your desk.” Slipping a disk into the computer tower, she r
eached for the mouse. “I’ll have this financial report into you in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  Entering his office, Gray placed his attaché case on his desk and picked up the package. He wasn’t familiar with Trinity Merchandising in London. He reached for the tab and pulled. Out tumbled a tiny bit of black lace and with it, Jana’s cloying scent. His entire body went still as he stared at the underwear on his desk. Fury swept through him. The last package she’d sent from New Orleans had contained a black lace thong as well. Phyllis had been the unlucky one that time.

  Picking up the notepad on which it had fallen, Gray tossed everything, including the envelope, into his trash can and went into the outer office. “Have Housekeeping come up immediately and dispose of this. Don’t accept any more packages from that address and check all of the overseas mail.”

  Frowning, Phyllis glanced from the trash can to her boss. “Yes, sir.”

  “It’s from Jana.” His voice was clipped.

  Anger flickered in her gaze. She picked up the trash can and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll take care of it. Maybe I’ll pick up a candle or two from Bliss and burn them in here.”

  Tight-lipped, Gray nodded as she went out the door. Claire had certainly helped erase the bitter memory of Jana’s betrayal. But just as Jana destroyed their marriage, the package, as she’d wanted, had reminded him that nothing lasts forever. One day, he’d have to leave Claire and move on.

  He never wanted to be that vulnerable again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  He wasn’t going to make it.

  John resisted the urge to check his watch again. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes from the last time he’d checked at six-ten. This wasn’t the first time he’d been late for dinner with his children, though he did his best to keep those occurences to a minimum, but this was the first occasion Mark had invited a woman.

  John came to a stop behind a small compact car and impatiently flexed his hands on the steering wheel. He’d planned to arrive home in time for a quick shower and change, but that was out now. His last client would need to have a tire change with bolts that had rusted on. By the time he’d finished, dirt and grime was all over his shirt and arms. No one had to tell him Brooke dated men who wore expensive suits and had manicures. All he’d had time for was a degreaser to get the dirt off his hands.

  The Beetle inched forward and John pulled off behind it. Brooke would probably turn up her pretty little nose at him. He shouldn’t care that she saw no further than what was on the outside, but he did and there was no sense fooling himself any longer.

  John turned off into his housing development as restless and anxious as any sixteen-year-old picking up his first date. Seeing Brooke’s Jag in front of his house increased his anxiety. Pulling up behind it, he jumped out of the wrecker. Long, ground-eating strides carried him up the walkway. He heard the laughter before he put his key in the door and shoved it open. They were all around a card table set up in the middle of the family room. Brooke was directly in front of him. His parents were on either side.

  All eyes converged on him, but somehow his gaze never made it past Brooke. Amy was in her lap. Mark leaned against Brooke’s chair. His pulse accelerated. Even wearing a suit that would probably equal his house payment, she looked perfectly natural sitting with his children.

  “Daddy!” Mark and Amy exclaimed and both ran to him. Bending down he hugged them.

  “We waited dinner for you,” Amy said. “Even Mr. Bear.”

  “About time you dragged home after inviting a guest for dinner,” his mother admonished. “You know how I don’t like reheating food.”

  “He could have waited until I was winning,” his father grumbled.

  Brooke lifted a skeptical brow. “Got any other jokes, Mr. Randle?”

  “I want a rematch,” his father said and began putting the dominoes back into the worn box.

  “We helped Brooke beat Grandpa at dominos five games to one,” Mark volunteered. “I kept score.”

  “And helped me figure out which piece to play,” Brooke said. “Amy was our good luck charm. I couldn’t have done it without my team.”

  Once again she had included his children. John’s father had trounced him on many occasions. He didn’t pull back for anyone, young or old. Brooke had to be a shrewd player.

  Amy and Mark went back to Brooke. She picked up Amy as carefully as she had put her down moments ago. Mark leaned against her chair, his arm touching hers.

  Brooke had won his family over as effortlessly as she won over every male that breathed. And she was ignoring him again.

  “Hello, everyone. Sorry I’m late. I’ll go take a shower and be right out.”

  “Then we’ll be leaving.” Mrs. Randle came to her feet and folded the chair she had been sitting in. “Mission meeting tonight. You can drop them off if you have to go back out later.”

  “Greg is picking up the wrecker and bringing my truck later. I’m in for the night.” John crossed the room and took the chair from her. “Thanks for staying and for dinner.”

  His mother affectionally patted his cheek. “I’d disown you if you tried to keep me from doing it.” She turned to her husband. “Come on, Hiram. You can try and beat Brooke next time.”

  “I won’t try,” Hiram said, coming to his feet and folding his chair. “It’s going to be total annihilation.”

  Smiling sweetly, Brooke set Amy on the floor and folded her chair. “Name the date and place, and me and my team will be there.”

  “Sunday at one-thirty,” was his quick comeback. “Evelyn and I’ll feed you first before I take you down a peg.”

  The smile slid from Brooke’s face, as she realized that she’d committed herself to Sunday dinner.

  “Afraid?” John’s father taunted when seconds passed and she didn’t respond.

  Brooke moistened her lips. “I … er…” She threw a quick glance at John. No help there. His face was expressionless and she could have kicked him for it. “Maybe John has other plans for his family?”

  “Then it’s settled, because they eat dinner with us every Sunday the Lord sends,” Evelyn said. “Come give Grandma some sugar, and I’ll see you two tomorrow after school.”

  Brooke blinked as if she hadn’t known what hit her. Unfortunately John did. His parents had decided he needed to move on and the woman they’d selected he needed to move on with was Brooke.

  * * *

  Brooke did not have supersonic hearing, but she swore she could hear the water from John’s shower running in rivulets down his muscular body, over his wide shoulders, down his chest, sliding over his flat stomach to his—

  “Brooke, are you all right?”

  She jumped guilty and stared at Mark, who had stopped filling the water glasses. “Of, course, sweetie.”

  “You face is all funny,” he said.

  “Like you’ve been out in the sun,” Amy added, sitting at the kitchen table with Mr. Bear.

  Erotic thoughts in front of a man’s children were definitely a no-no. She considered making an excuse and leaving for all of two seconds. There was no reason to hurt the children because she couldn’t get her mind off their father’s body, his hands, his mouth, his—

  “Ready to eat?”

  Brooke whirled around with the salad bowl in her hand. John stood in the doorway in a snug pair of blue jeans, a white tee shirt. He hadn’t taken time to dry thoroughly. Water glistened in his hair and dampened a couple of spots on his impressive chest. The alluring combination of his clean male scent and soap reached out to her. She was ready all right and it wasn’t for food.

  His face went from carefree to lusty.

  “Daddy, you face looks like Brooke’s,” Amy said. “You hot, too?”

  John’s stricken gaze flew to his daughter.

  “She means from the sun,” Brooke interjected and put the tossed salad on the table.

  “Yeah. Right.”

  Brooke didn’t think she’d ever seen a grown ma
n blush. They were certainly a pair.

  “Let’s sit down and eat,” John said and started to sit. He hung suspended in mid-air when Mark went around and held Brooke’s chair.

  “Thank you, Mark. You are such a gentleman.”

  The little boy flushed. “Daddy would have done it, but he’s tired and he’s got a lot on his mind.”

  Brooke lightly touched the little boy’s shoulder to reassure him that she hadn’t taken offense. “Then he’s lucky to have you, just as I was.”

  Beaming from ear to ear, Mark took his seat.

  John’s bottom finally settled in the cushioned chair. “Thanks, son. It’s nice knowing you always have my back.” Folding his hands, he bowed his head and said grace.

  Brooke said her blessings, then silently asked for strength to resist temptation. Opening her eyes, she looked across the small table separating her from John. He was looking right back at her. Desire slammed into her full force. She glared at him as best she could, considering the fact that if the children weren’t there she’d probably drag him to the floor.

  This was all his fault.

  * * *

  “Lorraine, please go on home,” Claire ordered, adding up the day’s receipts.

  “I’m staying and following you to the bank and tomorrow you’re getting a cell phone,” Lorraine said, refusing to budge from beside Claire at the cash register.

  Claire lifted her head long enough to throw Lorraine a quick look of exasperation before continuing with the receipts. “Lorraine, I’ll be fine. You want to go home to show Hamilton you’ll still be there for him. You can’t do that here with me.”

  Lorraine shook her head. “I won’t shirk one responsibility for another.”

  Shoving the receipts and deposit slip into a money bag, Claire gave Lorraine her full attention. “You’re not needed here; you are at home. Go home.”

  A knock sounded on the door and both women jumped and glanced around sharply. Seeing Gray with another man, Claire’s face creased into a wide smile and she rounded the counter to open the door. Memories of their lovemaking flushed her skin and made her wish they were in bed together. She should have known she’d be insatiable with Gray after waiting so many years.