by Francis Ray
Unlocking and opening the door, she had just enough presence of mind not to fling herself into his arms since she didn’t know who the other broad-shouldered man, dressed in a short-sleeve shirt and slacks, was. Gray had on a charcoal and red pinstriped suit that she’d have liked to take off. “Hello, Gray.”
“Hello, Claire,” he greeted, a smile curving his mouth as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and couldn’t agree more. “I’ve brought someone I wanted you and the ladies to meet.”
“Brooke is not here, but Lorraine is.”
Coming inside, Gray closed the door and introduced everyone. “Lee Roy is a security guard with Livingston during the morning shift. He’s available at a rate I think you’ll find agreeable to escort whomever to the bank. He can start tomorrow night.”
“You’re hired,” Lorraine quickly said. “But can you start tonight? I have to go home.”
“Yes—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Gray cut in smoothly. “I’ll see to it tonight. Lee Roy, please escort Lorraine to her car, and thanks for taking the job.”
“I’ll get my purse.” Lorraine took off for the back.
Gray held out his hand to the big man. “Thanks. I appreciate you.”
“Thanks for the confidence,” Lee Roy said, his large, calloused hand a startling contrast to Gray’s slender, manicured ones. “I won’t let you down.”
“Ready.” Lorraine hugged Claire and then she and the security guard were out the door.
Gray hadn’t taken his eyes off Claire since Lorraine had reappeared. “Hello, beautiful.”
She replied without thinking, “Hi, handsome.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her until they were both gasping for breath. “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to last much longer.”
She nuzzled his neck. “Me either. My first thought was to jump you.”
“Keep that thought.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Grab the deposit and let’s get out of here.”
* * *
After the first awkward moments at dinner, John’s libido cooperated enough for him to carry on a normal conversation and look at Brooke without wanting to give her everything her hot gaze was asking for. The children’s happy conversation about their day at school helped most of the time, but then Brooke would say something and his gaze would travel back to her, and no matter how hard he resisted temptation the V of ruffles framing her breasts always drew his attention. His imagination would kick in and he’d visualize burying his head there, and another part of his body that was hard and aching for release someplace else.
“More water, John?” she asked sweetly, but her eyes shot daggers at him.
At least she couldn’t kick him anymore. After the second kick, he’d finally wised up and moved his long legs out of harm’s way. He’d be black-and-blue for a week.
He glanced at the glass she kept full. He’d be sloshing if he drank any more. “No thanks. Mark, any problems with homework?”
His son grinned at Brooke. “Brooke checked it and said it was all right. She’s smart.”
“I bet if I had homework, she would have said the same thing,” Amy put in and yawned.
“Time to get ready for bed,” John announced. Protests and groans sounded from both children. “We were out late last night to see Brooke. I’d like to think if the occasion came up again you wouldn’t mind going to bed a little early the next night.”
Both children got up from the table without further protest. “Say goodnight to Brooke, and I’ll be in to help you with your bath, Amy.”
“Can Brooke help?” she asked, leaning against her father and staring up at him.
A smile tugging the corner of his mouth, he kissed her on the forehead. “No, but nice try. She’d get her pretty suit wet.”
Mark and Amy both hugged Brooke, told her goodnight and left the kitchen. John watched them go and then turned around. A hunk of garlic bread hit him in the face and plopped into his plate. He was so surprised he simply stared at Brooke. She was seething.
“How dare you let Amy think that a suit is more important to me than she is.” Brooke shot up from the table. “Thank goodness they have your parents to help you raise them or they’d be as insensitive as their father.”
She was halfway out of the room before John reacted. Recalling vividly that she could put him on his back, he grabbed her around the waist with both hands, quickly saying “The kids” in hopes that she wouldn’t want to put up a fight and frighten them. She didn’t say anything, but she kicked him.
“If I fall, guess who is going to be on the bottom,” he whispered into her ear. Immediately she stilled.
In five steps they were out the back door and in the oversized yard that had been a must when he was looking for a house three years ago. A swing set, a sandbox, and a little club house were in the far corner of the yard. The security lights winked on. He continued until he was out of the direct line of the light. “I’m going to put you down and I want you to listen to what I have to say for Mark and Amy, if not for me.”
Brooke grunted. Since she didn’t punctuate the sound with a kick, he loosened his hold by increments, then quickly stepped back realizing even before she whirled on him with her small fists clenched that he had to talk fast. “Amy is like a water buffalo when she takes a bath. You would have been soaked in minutes.”
“It will dry clean and, if it wouldn’t DKNY and Saks would have heard from me.”
He shoved his hand over his head. “That’s not the only problem, as I see it.”
She braced her hands on her hips. “What is?”
“If you had gotten wet I would have had to let you use my bathroom to dry off, since the children share a bath, then loan you something of mine since it would be the only thing close to fitting you.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m already having enough problems sleeping at night from thinking about you without visualizing you undressing in my bedroom.”
Her hands dropped to her side. She looked stricken. “T–This shouldn’t be happening.”
“That doesn’t seem to stop it.” John stepped closer. He couldn’t help himself. “I don’t think we’d be fighting this so hard if we hadn’t gotten off on the wrong foot.”
Brooke’s eyes went lethal again. “You blame me for that?”
He didn’t have to think. “You got mad because you tried to con me and it didn’t work.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, and looked away. “I wasn’t having a good day. You ignoring me made it worse.”
“Believe me it wasn’t easy,” he admitted.
Her head whipped back around to him.
If she hadn’t looked stunned instead of triumphant he might not have been able to tell her the rest. “Every time you’re within a foot of me, I want you. I have from the first moment I saw you, and it gets worse every time I see you.”
“From the first?” she asked in amazement.
He nodded, then reached out and took her hand, felt the leap of her pulse which caused his to settle a bit more. “Don’t you know when a guy is playing hard to get?”
She glanced at their two hands together, then back at him “My judgment hasn’t been what it once was.”
He didn’t want to hear about another guy. “Do you want me to go beat him up or, better yet, take you to beat him up?”
A smile broke over her face. “That might be difficult to do since he’s in London.”
“Do you wish he was here?” John forced himself to ask.
“No. He wasn’t who I thought he was or what I wanted.” Brooke stared up into John’s face. “He didn’t care that I lost my job or how frightened I was. You did and we’d just met. I’ve moved on.”
“Good.” Breathing easier, John pulled her closer, fitting her body effortlessly to him. “We can concentrate on each other.”
Standing easily in his arms, Brooke rested her hands on his chest. “This is the longest we’ve ever been together without fighting.”
�
�I know,” he replied, brushing a kiss across her forehead. “Tell me about Brooke Dunlap, who can put a man down in seconds or bring him to his knees, then help that same man keep it together for his kids with equal ease.”
Her hands trembled. “I was scared.”
“I’ll always be thankful you were there with me,” he said. “Have you always been bossy?”
“Decisive,” she said, and told him about her family with uncles who were always there for her.
“So men have been catering to you since you took your first breath,” he said matter-of-factly.
She shrugged her shoulder. “I guess.”
He laughed and hugged her to him. “Don’t go modest on me.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You could certainly use some modesty.”
“I’ve got a feeling you’re going to teach me some.” His fingers traced the delicate curve of her jaw. He felt her shiver. “I want to see you again. Just the two of us and I don’t think I can wait until Sunday.”
“Me either,” she breathed. “Breakfast at my place Wednesday at nine.”
“I could be there at eight-fifteen.”
“Even better.”
* * *
Lorraine opened the back door leading from the garage and saw Hamilton sitting at the kitchen table, seemingly staring into space. “Hamilton?”
He jerked toward her and came to his feet. He took a couple of steps and stopped. “Hello, Lorraine.”
Her throat stung. So much formality when there had once been so much love. She closed the door. “I see Betsy made dinner for you.”
His glanced back at the half-eaten almond trout, grilled vegetables and roasted rosemary potatoes. “She’s not as good a cook as you.”
Censure and complaint. Lorraine took a seat on the other side of the table. “That’s why I came home early.”
His eyes lit up. “You decided to quit?”
A pain sliced through her that he could be so happy to hear she’d given up on her dream. “No.”
“Oh.” He leaned back in his chair.
Lorraine swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “I came home to do the laundry. If possible, I’ll try to be here when you get home in the evenings. I’m not sure about cooking. I realized today that this is difficult for you.”
He stared across the table at her. “Knowing that, you won’t give up the shop?”
“Knowing how much it means to me how can you ask me to give it up?” she countered. She started to add that Thomas hadn’t asked Margaret to give up her dream, but didn’t think it wise.
Hamilton flinched as if she had struck him, then he came around the table and drew her into his arms. “We’ll get through this.”
“Yes, we will.” Lorraine held him as tight as he held her. Brooke’s plan hadn’t been a total failure. But her marriage was still in trouble.
* * *
As soon as they entered Claire’s house, Gray pulled her into his arms and kissed her until both were starved for breath and even more starved for each other. It took Claire considerable willpower to pull back and ask, “How much is Lee Roy’s salary and are you matching it in some way?”
Gray stopped dropping little kisses on her face and lifted his head. “I thought about it. Then I recalled how stubborn and how independent you are and decided not to. He earns $16.50 an hour. I think he should get there at least fifteen minutes before closing, walk whoever is not making the deposit to their cars, then escort the person making the deposit to the bank for night deposit, then follow for at least ten minutes to ensure she’s not being followed, then head home. You’re looking at an hour-and-a-half.”
Claire strained away from Gray when he tried to kiss her again. “So he’s willing to do so much for less than $25 a night, most of which Uncle Sam will get?”
“Which, monthly, will help him pay for the fishing boat he wants. Plus the side benefits.” Gray kissed her forehead since that was the only part he could reach. “He’s hoping you’ll consider him for the next Man of Bliss. He likes the ladies.”
Claire frowned and let him pull her closer. “We don’t need one now.”
“He’s there if you do.” Her blouse came out of her skirt. “How hungry are you?”
She chuckled then moaned as his teeth nipped her earlobe. “I suppose I could wait an hour.”
“That should give us just enough time.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
This was it.
Standing in front of Brooke’s door Wednesday morning, John glanced at the small bouquet of fresh-cut flowers in one hand, the fresh-baked croissants in the other and swallowed. This wasn’t what Brooke was used to. Everything from the expensive clothes to the Jag to the upscale address testified that she was used to the best. She had style, grace, elegance. So why was he standing in front of her door with flowers and croissants from a grocery store?
Because he didn’t seem to be able to stay away.
The answer wasn’t settling. He’d always been able to control his emotions. Until now. Until Brooke. Worse, he wasn’t able to keep from revealing those feelings to her. Being vulnerable was new to John.
And he didn’t like it one bit.
He stared down at the bouquet. He recognized a daisy but that was about it. Maybe there was something in there that she was allergic to. Perhaps he should stash them. Too hokey. He was trying too hard to please. He couldn’t compete with her other dates and he wasn’t about to try. Brooke either accepted him for himself or not at all. He was leaning over to hide the flowers by the door when it opened.
Caught, he glanced up and his breath snagged. Brooke might be petite, but she was filled out in the most wonderful, arousing places. She packed a wallop in the short white sheath she wore. Great legs went along with the mouth-watering rest of her. She looked beautiful and more tempting than any woman had a right to … at that time of morning … unless she was in a man’s bed. And that’s exactly where John wanted her to be.
Slowly he straightened and caught a whiff of the elusive fragrance she wore. The ache that had awakened him that morning worsened.
“Good morning, John,” Brooke greeted, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. “Come on in.”
“Good morning,” John said, entering.
“Are those for me?” she asked.
Wordlessly he thrust the flowers he was clutching toward her.
“They’re beautiful.” Taking the bouquet, Brooke brought them to her face and inhaled. She looked at him over the top. “No one has ever brought me flowers for a breakfast date. Thank you.”
An odd mixture of relief that she liked the flowers and irritation that she had known other men went through him. He wasn’t the jealous type. Another trait he’d acquired since meeting Brooke. “I was about to hide them when you answered the door.”
John’s honesty and obvious nervousness went a long way in settling her jumpy nerves. She had tossed and turned most of the night wondering about this. “I asked security to let me know when you arrived so I’d have everything ready.” She turned away. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll put these in some water and we can have breakfast.”
“Smells good,” he said following her into the stainless steel kitchen. He took a seat at the glass-topped table set with crystal, and china trimmed in pewter—or was it platinum?—and linen napkins.
“Canadian bacon, cheese grits, scrambled eggs and French toast.” She placed the cut-crystal vase full of flowers on the edge of the table so it wouldn’t impede their view of each other and put the croissants on a tray. Finished, she reached for a high-backed chair covered in soft gray-and-black stripe.
John jumped up from his seat to pull out her chair.
She glanced up to thank him and the nerves that had just begun to settle went on full alert. He looked so mouth-wateringly tempting. Clean-shaven, crisp white shirt and dress slacks. She wet her lips. His gaze followed. Heat shot through her. It was either have John for breakfast or talk fast. “Thank you. If you’ll
take a seat I’ll say grace.”
He blinked, then tore his hungry gaze from her lips to her eyes. “W–what … sure. Sorry.”
Brooke bowed her head to say grace and for deliverance from the lure of John’s body. She heard a strangled sound from across the table and glanced up; realizing as she did that she had spoken out loud.
“If you don’t mind, that’s one prayer I hope He doesn’t answer,” John said. Staring at her intently.
“I think you can put your mind at ease.”
John made a motion to stand. Her hand shot out toward him.
“Don’t you dare. I was up at six-thirty cooking this breakfast and we’re going to eat it.”
John eased back into his cushioned seat. And picked up his small black checked napkin. “Bossy, just like I said.”
“Decisive.” She served him, then herself. “How are Amy and Mark this morning?”
“Better than usual.” He reached for a croissant. “I only had to tell them once on the way to school to stop arguing.”
Smiling, she picked up her orange juice. “They’re great kids.”
“In spite of their father,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.
She made a face. “Sorry about that remark.”
“Don’t be. I probably wasn’t at my best. Being in a state of perpetual arousal tends to make a man testy.”
She sighed. “It’s not very good on a woman either.”
He choked on his bacon. Jumping up from the table, Brooke pounded him on his back. He stopped coughing and stared up at her. “You’re trying to kill me?”
“Not until I’m finished with you.”
He pulled her into his lap, his mouth fastening on hers. The hands holding her were as desperate as hers holding him. The kiss rocked both of them. His tongue swept inside her mouth, mating with hers.
Gathering the off-the-shoulder collar of her dress in his fists he pulled the soft, stretchy material down. He almost groaned on seeing the tiny bit of white lace barely covering her lush breasts. He did moan when his lips brushed across her silken flesh.
She moaned right along with him, then her hands were on him, small and demanding. She pushed his shirt up and ran a delicate tongue across his nipple. He shuddered.
