Dan's ear flicked, as if he were listening, and Justine looked into his big round eye and scratched his forehead and tickled behind his big ear, then switched the curry comb for the brush, and continued her conversation with him, as she brushed his shoulder.
"But the real problem is that he has a daughter, and she's this perfect, sad little girl who thinks I'm something I'm not, and I want her to keep believing what she does about me because it's the way I want people to think of me. Brad knows the truth about me, but Sophie doesn't, and I want to be Sophie's mother. I think I could be. I know about little girls and the fantasies they have, and I know more than most about how to keep a little girl on the right track."
Dan whinnied and bobbed his head. Justine laughed. "Is that a nod of agreement?"
A stream of light fell across the floor as the side door to the barn opened, and Justine turned to find Brad standing in the doorway. "I saw you coming in here and thought I'd see what you were doing," he said, closing the door behind him, throwing the barn back into subdued light.
"I'm having a conversation with Dan," Justine replied, keeping her back to Brad as she brushed Dan's coat. "Where is Sophie?"
"With Ricky," Brad replied. "Sam's taking them to the library in town where they have a puppet theater and puppets for the kids to play with. Sophie wanted to go, and when I told her she could, she smiled at me. I tried to get her to hug me, but she still shook her head and said she doesn't know if I'm her daddy."
Justine ran the brush down Dan's leg. "Give her time. She'll come around."
"Why so soon?" Brad asked.
Justine paused from brushing. "What are you talking about?"
"You returning to Seattle. Why next week? Why not the week after?"
Justine knew Brad was directly behind her now, but she didn't turn to address him, only kept brushing the horse. "What would my staying another week do?" she asked, moving the brush in short quick strokes, if only to keep from turning around and throwing her arms around Brad's neck and kissing him senseless. She'd never kissed a man like that before, never wanted to. She'd tolerated open mouth kisses but found them as repulsive as sex, something to get through because it was expected, but with Brad, she wanted it all.
"I don't know what another week would do," Brad said, his hands coming around her from behind, "but I'm not ready for you to go yet."
She leaned against him. "Why are you doing this now? What do you want from me?"
"This." Brad turned her around and kissed her. And she kissed him back, finding her control leaving her, wanting everything she knew Brad could give her.
He kissed the side of her neck and moved his hands down her spine and pressed her to him, making her want to be flesh-to-flesh with what she felt moving against her. Then he slipped his hands under her turtleneck and cupped her breasts, and said, in a raspy voice, "You're not wearing a bra."
"No," she replied, nearly breathless. "I was hoping you'd come."
"For this?"
"For everything."
Shoving her jersey up, Brad took her nipple in his mouth and started sucking, not a man sucking on his mother's breast this time, but Brad Meecham sucking on Justine Page's breast, wanting to give her what she wanted. Wanting to satisfy her. Wanting her to want him to keep doing what he was doing because, for the first time in her life, she was enjoying what a man was doing. She let out a little moan, and said, "What you're doing makes me want more. I feel something happening. I want it to happen." She stopped talking because the thing was building while he sucked. "Yes... it's happening..."
In an instant, Brad tugged her sweats down, and his, along with his briefs, and in one slow movement, joined his body with hers. He'd barely started pumping when Justine let out a series of agitated moans, and before the waves had passed, she knew it was happening to him too. It was not the way she'd wanted things to be, with them in a bed, entangled in each other's arms, but at least now she knew...
For a few moments, she tried to hold onto the sensations, but when they finally faded, she said in a ragged voice, "I don't want it to be over."
"I didn't mean for it to happen at all," Brad said. "It just complicates things." He tugged his sweats and briefs back up.
Justine pulled up her own sweats and lowered her jersey, then picked up the brush, and said, while brushing the horse again, "Don't worry about it complicating things. It doesn't have to happen again. I'm ready to go back to Seattle. I still have that glass ceiling to crack."
When Brad said nothing, she glanced over her shoulder and saw him staring at her, his lips pressed in a disgruntled slash. She turned back and started brushing the horse again, while saying, "If you didn't come to screw me, knowing I was expecting you to, why did you come?"
"Stop talking like that," Brad snapped. "I didn't just screw you."
"Umm, well, I'd swear that's what just happened and I'm pretty much an authority on it, but it was good while it lasted." She ran the brush along the horse's back.
"Don't do this," Brad said. "I don't screw women. You mean something to me, you mean a lot to me, but things are too complicated to go beyond that. What happened wasn't just a man and a woman getting it on. I've wanted you since I first saw you."
"So have a lot of men," Justine said, "but none of them take me home to Mama, right?" She glanced back and waited for his response.
"I would if I could," Brad said.
"No, you can, but you won't," Justine replied, "but that's okay. As the old saying goes, 'you made your bed, now you lie in it'." She gave a little sigh of resolve. "I honestly understand. If I were you with a daughter to raise I wouldn't want a woman like me raising her either, so let's acknowledge the fact that if there were no extenuating circumstances—five-year-old daughters to raise or glass ceilings to crack—we could enjoy really good sex and have fun together, and maybe even think of having a life together, but the extenuating circumstances are a reality." She started brushing Dan more vigorously. She had defused a whole lot of pent up sexual energy moments before, but now she felt the frustration of wanting more, of wanting it all, and that wasn't going to happen.
"I wish things could be different," Brad said to her from behind.
"Well, they're not," Justine replied, "and that glass ceiling's still staring down at me, but it'll keep my mind off what I want and can't have. The thing is, Justine Page doesn't like not having everything she wants, and she wants Brad Meecham." Brad said nothing, but when light came from behind, and the door closed, Justine knew he was gone.
CHAPTER 11
Over the course of her life Justine had many regrets, which she mentally cataloged and graded on a scale of one to ten, one being a regret of little significance, ten being life changing. The thing with Sean Elliot had been a ten because it was life changing in that she allowed him to mess up her life, but she had no regrets about what happened in the stable.
Some time back she'd gone through a metaphysical phase, reading about reincarnation and soul travel. What she took away from it was, when two people had intercourse, the act bound their souls together for eternity. It bothered her that she'd be bound to men like Sean and all the others she'd slept with to get where she wanted to go, and who she'd felt nothing for, but she found the idea of being bound to Brad for all eternity comforting, like a tonic for the soul.
More important than being bound to Brad for eternity, since that wasn't within her power now, she wanted Sophie to remember her not only with affection, but with respect, a woman she might one day look back on and want to emulate. So she made a solemn vow to maintain a modest demeanor which included, along a sports bra at all times, a turtleneck jersey, but with a shirt over it, also buttoned up, loose-fitting slacks, and socks inside her fleece-lined slippers.
After the session in the stable, Brad was more agitated than usual, and she knew he had big regrets about what happened because he wasn't a one-night-stand man. He had to feel something for a woman before having sex with her. She also knew what happened wasn't his fault. She'd be
en waiting for him. So if she did have one regret it was that he hadn't wanted it to happen. But it was done, and now the idea of being with any other man shut everything off. In fact, the thought of it made her stomach queasy.
She had just stepped out of the bedroom in her modest attire when she heard the sounds of Ricky and Sophie's voices just outside, and Brad calling out to them to take off their boots before entering the cabin. The kids rushed inside with a great burst of enthusiasm, Sophie talking over Ricky, as she looked up at Justine, and said, "We saw an eagle and he was this big—" she stretched her arms wide "—and he swooped down and caught a mouse—"
"It was a meadow vole," Ricky corrected.
Sophie propped her little hands on her hips. "It was a mouse!" she insisted, and stomped her foot for emphasis.
"Well, whatever it was," Justine said, "Mr. Eagle’s going to have it for dinner."
"Will you come see?" Sophie said, taking Justine's hand. "He has a big nest way at the top of a big huge tree and it's this wide—" she released Justine's hand and stretched her arms out again.
"It's way bigger than that," Ricky corrected.
"It is not!" Sophie stomped her foot again. Then Sophie lowered her chin, looked up at Ricky through her long lashes and gave her lashes a few little flutters, and said, "It was this big."
She stretched her arms out again, and this time Ricky shrugged and said, "Maybe so."
Justine looked at Brad and knew, from the dark look on his face, that he hadn't missed his five-year-old daughter's seductive look and manipulations.
Walking over to Brad, Justine said, "I'll get her a baby doll before I leave, and some undershirts and little-girl briefs and a few plain shirts and jeans. In fact, we can go shopping this afternoon now that the roads are clear." Brad seemed equally disturbed by her suggestion, and she knew it was because he didn't want Sophie bonding with her any more than she already had.
"I'll take her when we get to San Francisco," he said.
"Fine," Justine replied. "You might as well get used to shopping for girly stuff. Will you be okay in the dressing room with her surrounded by other little girls running around?"
Brad's brows pinched, and his jaws clenched, and he seemed to be deliberating what to do, definitely out of Brad Meecham's element. "Okay, we'll go together," he said, "but I want her to know I'm the one buying the stuff."
"Honey, don't worry," Justine said, in all sincerity. "I'm not going to take your little girl away from you." She had no idea where the endearment came from, but it seemed right. She felt affection for Brad as well as love. She also knew her affection for him would rub off on Sophie, who would also feel affection, at least she hoped it would be that way before the week was done. For some reason, it had become important to her that Sophie bond with Brad.
Brad said nothing, just stared at her, head cocked slightly, a look that told her he might be reconsidering things. A contradiction. His looking at her with fondness instead of lust, her covered from head to toe, and with no clever comeback, and him still wanting her. Maybe wanting to make love with her. She'd never had a man do that, not even in the stable. That had been pure lust. It happened because it had been foremost on their minds and the occasion presented itself, but now she wanted Brad to make love to her.
Seeing the worried look on his face, she said, "I'll be gone soon and you can focus all your attention on Sophie. Maybe before long you'll find a step-mother who'll take care of both of you." But she didn't want another woman sharing Brad's last name and his bed, and she didn't want just anyone raising Sophie. Not many could stay ahead of a precocious little girl like her. She could, but there was no way Brad would give her that chance.
Two hours later, Brad stood with his arms folded while Justine and Sophie sorted through a rack of dresses. Along with the modest girly briefs in packages of threes and in different colors, the cart contained tee shirts and under shirts to wear under them, packages of plain, unadorned socks, a pair of plain brown shoes, a couple of pairs of modest pajamas, and a long robe that zipped up the front all the way to Sophie's chin. Sophie picked out several dresses, of which Brad shook his head in disapproval. "No ruffles," he'd said, and, "Too low in front," and, "Too short. It needs to go below your knees."
"Maybe a nun's habit?" Justine suggested, ironically. Brad had the right idea, but she could see him taking it to extremes. "That was meant as a joke," she added, when Brad looked as if the idea of Sophie being a nun might be worth considering.
But when Sophie pulled a particular dress off the hanger and came rushing over to Brad, while holding the dress up to herself—one that scooped low in front, had ruffles on the skirt, and stopped above her knees—and looked up at Brad with pleading eyes, and said, "Can I have this one Daddy?"
Brad's face broke into a smile, and he replied, "Yeah, honey, you can."
Sophie hugged him then, and Brad put his arms around her and held her to him, and for a few moments neither tried to break free. Then Sophie gave a little shrug-wiggle, and Brad opened his arms, and she was off to find another dress.
"You sure handled that well," Justine said. "And when she's sixteen and wants a leather skirt that comes mid-thigh, and knee-high boots with stiletto heels, and a tank top that leaves her mid-drift bare, and she bats her eyes and says, Daddy can I have this outfit, will you cave in and say 'yeah honey, sure'?" When Brad said nothing, Justine added, "You can't start setting down rules you won’t carry through. You just gave Sophie her first lesson in how to manipulate Daddy, which will carry over into how to manipulate men, and before you know it she'll be using every feminine trick she'll have up her mid-thigh skirt to get what she wants."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Brad admitted, and gave a weary sigh.
"I know I am," Justine said. "I'm an expert. Remember?"
Brad's eyes darkened and he said, with irritation, "Yeah, it's pretty damn hard to forget with you reminding me every few minutes."
"I'm only reminding you to get my point across," Justine replied.
"Maybe I don't want you to get your point across that way. Maybe I want you to prove your point by being a respectable woman and showing Sophie by example," Brad said, looking at her with an intensity she found disturbing because she couldn't interpret what was behind it. She'd never seen that look on his face before.
She started to remind him that her leading Sophie by example was a moot point because she wouldn't be around much longer, then bit back the words because what Brad said was not a short term solution. Saying that he wanted her to be respectable and show Sophie by example meant he was talking for the duration, and he was including her, and he was giving it deep thought. Troubling, but deep.
"I am trying to do that," she said. "Have you not noticed the way I'm dressed? I do want Sophie to think of me that way. I want her to remember me as the nice lady who was fun to have around, and who dressed modestly, and who loved her because she was a special little girl who was just a few steps ahead of her daddy, and she wished the nice lady was around to help her make the right decisions when temptation was dangled in front of her and she wanted to act on it. But I leave her to you because I think you'll do okay, as long as you make her stick to the rules."
"I have noticed the way you're dressed," Brad said, ignoring her diatribe, "and I like everything I see."
"Then I'm ordinary now?" she asked.
Brad touched her face, and replied, "Honey, you'll never be ordinary." He leaned toward her as if to kiss her, then stopped and glanced at Sophie, and shrugged.
Justine smiled. "It was a nice thought though. Respectable women like chaste kisses, so I've heard."
"I'll try to keep that in mind," Brad replied.
And Justine felt she'd somehow made a tiny step toward respectability. But there were still some giant steps to go before being respectable enough to be Sophie's mother, in Brad's eyes.
***
Justine watched Jack crawling on hands and knees across the living room floor of his house, with three little
boys on his back. She'd seen him do it before, but it never dawned on her until now that Jack actually liked doing it, not just that he wanted to please his sons. She also found herself smiling. The boys were cute, she realized, seemingly for the first time. Adam, the biggest of the three, was a clone of Jack—robust build, dark eyes and hair, tall in comparison to other three-year-olds. A true chip off the old block.
Ryan, the little one in the middle, also had the Hansen dark hair and eyes, but he was an easygoing little guy, with Grace's sweet nature and a dogged determination to keep up with his big brothers. Marc, the one sitting behind Ryan, was smaller than Adam, with lighter hair than the other boys, and with odd-colored eyes, sometimes bluish-green, other times gray, depending on his mood, Grace explained.
Justine scooted off the chair and onto the floor and sat with her knees propped up, and her hands draped over them, smiling and watching the chaos, and thinking back on how it had been out there in the snow with Sophie and Ricky, laughing and throwing snowballs and doing things that would shock the hell out of just about everyone at Elliot, Stratton and Tarlow.
She seemed far removed from that now, yet, she still had to go back. Not to where she'd been, but somewhere. There would be opportunities waiting. By now the corporate world around Seattle would know that Justine Page resigned from Elliot, Stratton and Tarlow. A disagreement in policy issues, Sean would have told everyone.
Less than three weeks ago she'd been sleeping with the man. Hating every minute of it, but doing what she needed to do. Once through the glass ceiling she'd never have to endure it again, she'd told herself, and then she'd look for true love. But she couldn't imagine finding it now in the world she'd left behind, so maybe she was destined to go through life alone.
Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 34
