The Great Bedroom War

by Laurie Kellogg

  “Yes.” He smiled, clearly appreciating her conciliatory gesture. “When I got to the house, I remembered we’d upgraded the locks. I figured I’d borrow your key and surprise Dani when she gets home.”

  Sam glanced at her watch. “She’ll be getting off the school bus at any minute, so you don’t need a key. But you’ll still be a surprise. I haven’t told her you’re moving back yet.”

  “Good. I was hoping you hadn’t said anything to her.”

  When a flash of gold on his left hand glinted in the sunlight streaming through the door, she grabbed his wrist. The pale skin around the edge of his wedding ring proved he hadn’t recently put it back on. “Why are you still wearing that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You and the law might not consider me your husband, Sammy, but in my eyes and the Church’s, you’ll always be my wife.”

  This wasn’t an issue she wanted to debate right now. “If you don’t mind, I need to go back to work. I’ll be home in about an hour.”

  Before she could turn away, he captured her in his muscular arms, and his mouth covered hers, teasing her lips in a long, seductive kiss that left her body screaming, Oh, yes, more please!

  Why couldn’t Adam incite these delicious tingles or leave her weak in the knees?

  A single flick of Nick’s tongue reminded her of all the intimate places he loved to explore with it. Naughty places, where no self-respecting lady should enjoy being kissed as much as she did —despite that his mouth made her feel wanton and desperate for him to continue.

  He slowly drew back and whispered, “Contaré los minutos.”

  Her breath stalled in her throat. Counting the minutes? After being apart for so long, one would think she’d be desensitized to his Latin charisma by now. But no—Nick’s insidious, seductive Spanish still turned her brains to mush and left her tongue-tied.

  Dumbstruck, she watched the presumptuous idiot stroll to the door where he glanced back and aimed a cocky but still irresistible—darn his arrogant hide—wink at her.

  Obviously, it would take a major case of amnesia for her to finally forget Nick and the incredible pleasure his lips promised and never failed to deliver. With that in mind, she staggered back to the classroom, seriously considering slamming her head into the door.

  ~*~

  Nick smacked his palm against the steering wheel and muttered a string of four-letter words under his breath. He never should’ve kissed her, damn it. But it had been so long, and her mouth had looked so tempting. He hadn’t been able to resist.

  It would be just his luck to screw things up with her before he even set foot back inside the house. Despite the potential backlash, the outraged but hungry-for-more look on Sam’s face left him whistling most of the way home.

  Unfortunately, leaving her speechless had been a minor victory that he chose to savor since it would probably be his last for a while. Sammy was bound to throw a very loud conniption when she came home and found Chewie lounging around her house. That surprise, coupled with the stolen kiss, could very well land Nick and his pet in a flea-ridden motel for the night.

  At the red light near Peddler’s Village, he reached behind the seat and scratched the dog’s neck. “Don’t worry, pal. You’ll grow on her. And Dani will be nuts about you.”

  After the stupid stunt he’d just pulled, he needed as much optimism as he could muster. The fury flashing in Samantha’s eyes after he kissed her said it would take a lot more than a peace offering of peanut butter cups to finesse his suitcases and Chewie inside. Only major extortion was likely to convince her to let him stay. Like, say, bribery, guilt, or blackmail?

  If necessary, he’d use his entire arsenal of coercion methods. Otherwise, he’d be facing a terminal case of celibacy. Even though the court might have legally dissolved his marriage, his non-practicing Catholic penis still considered Sam his wife—and probably always would.

  CHAPTER 4

  Nick stomped on the brake twenty yards from his driveway and watched in horror.

  A totally ripped, bare-chested teen chased a giggling hottie—who Nick fervently prayed was not his little girl—around the front lawn, attempting to swat her fanny.

  The cut-offs on the adolescent siren barely covered her bottom and rode so low the waistband scarcely concealed the crack in her behind. Perspiration glued her tank top to her woman-sized breasts like a second skin. The entire outfit screamed, ‘Come and get it!’ as subtly as a streetwalker on Sunset Boulevard.

  No. That girl couldn’t be his little Dani. According to Sam, their daughter had only hit puberty last spring, right before she’d flown out to visit him. She couldn’t have grown breasts that size in only six months. Could she?

  The girl turned and ran toward his SUV, and his stomach clenched. ¡Madre de Dios! That teenage strumpet was his daughter.

  And directly behind her was a heat-seeking missile with only one objective—penetrate the target, namely Nick’s little girl.

  Had Sam lost her mind letting their child dress like that? And when had Dani’s legs gotten that long?

  One side of the double driveway was already occupied—by the boy’s car, he assumed. To avoid taking Sam’s space or blocking the kid’s vehicle, Nick parked the SUV along the shaded tree-lined road in front of the Manion’s property.

  He wasn’t quite ready to introduce Chewie to his daughter, so he lowered the windows to keep the dog from cooking in the heat. “Lie down and stay,” he ordered. As soon as the animal complied, Nick climbed out of the vehicle.

  The moment Dani saw him striding across the road toward the house, she froze in her tracks. The shirtless teen, whose camouflage cargo pants rode dangerously low on his hips, plowed into her, knocking her down.

  “Daddy!” She gasped as her beet-faced admirer helped her up and eagerly assisted in brushing bits of grass off her shorts. “What are you doin’ here?”

  Clenching his fists at his sides, Nick blinked several times. Every time he looked at the boy, all he could see was a six-foot penis standing beside his daughter. Now, he understood why Sam’s aunt had flipped out that day she’d found her niece dancing in the yard in a string-bikini.

  So help him, if that lecher touched Dani’s ass once more, Nick would have to break the kid’s hands.

  “Why are you here?” she asked again, wearing a guilty expression.

  He shook his head to clear the phallic image that had short-circuited his ability to speak. “You refused to fly out to see me this summer, and you hardly speak to me on the phone anymore. I had no choice but to come to you.” Nick glared at the fine crop of hair sprouting on her companion’s chest. “And here I find you practicing on the front lawn with Hercules for some smutty rock video.”

  Dani’s brow wrinkled. “What’re you talking about?”

  He gestured toward her outfit. “That is why you’re wearing that bimbo-in-training get-up, isn’t it? Because I know my daughter wouldn’t dress in a way that would make a guy think she was easy.”

  The six-foot penis had the good sense to look abashed. “Uhh, maybe I’d better go.”

  “No!” Dani blurted. “You just got here. He can stay, can’t he, Dad?”

  Nick turned toward the kid and narrowed his gaze. “For a while. But if you want to keep breathing, pal, I suggest you keep your paws off my daughter’s butt.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Riverá.” The boy extended his hand. “Ryan Flynn.”

  Nick accepted the kid’s firm handshake, wishing he could say he was equally pleased. The boy was way too old for Dani. But at least Nick hadn’t found them inside the house alone.

  “We were just goofin’ around while we wait for mom to come home,” Dani explained.

  He glanced at the beat-up Toyota parked in the driveway. From the flash of guilt on Dani’s face, Nick would wager an entire paycheck she’d ignored the rules and had ridden home with her friend instead of on the school bus. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something he could prove.

  He turned to Ryan and jerk
ed his head toward the acoustic guitar lying on the black Toyota’s hood with the boy’s discarded T-shirt. “You play?”

  “I’m still learning. Dani told me you taught her, and she promised to show me a few things this afternoon.”

  As long as it was only his daughter’s proficiency on the instrument the kid hoped to see.

  During the induction phase of her treatment, Nick had bought a second-hand Fender from e-Bay, hoping it would distract Dani from her illness. With so much idle time on her hands and a bit of inherited talent, in only a few months, she’d become fairly accomplished on the guitar.

  “Ryan’s the vocalist in his band,” she told him.

  “Is your voice good,” Nick asked, “or simply the best in your group?”

  “It’s okay.” The kid shrugged. “Right now, I play keyboard, but I’d like be able to switch off to the guitar, too.”

  Six-foot penis or not, he liked the kid’s modesty. The only disturbing thing was the boy reminded Nick of someone he wouldn’t trust around his daughter—a blond version of himself at eighteen.

  “You seem nice enough, Ryan, but aren’t you a little old to be friends with Dani?”

  “What?” She scowled. “He’s only sixteen. Ryan just got his license three months ago. Who do you want me to hang out with? Mom’s preschoolers?”

  Oh, crap. The kid was evidently an early bloomer. By the time Nick had physically matured that far, he’d been a senior in high school and getting lucky with half the cheerleading squad. Not that any of those stuck up teases would’ve ever publically admitted knowing a bad seed like him.

  He shrugged, gesturing toward the kid’s hairy muscled chest. “He looks a lot older than sixteen.”

  Ryan took the hint and pulled on his T-shirt, hiding his well-developed physique.

  “The rules haven’t changed,” Nick told Dani. “You’re still not dating till you’re fifteen.”

  “Can’t I even be friends with guys for the next six months?”

  He glared at her shorts. “Not if you dress like that.”

  “It was eighty degrees in the shade when I got home. I can’t help it if none of my summer clothes fit anymore.”

  At least Sam hadn’t let her go to school in that get-up.

  A horn tooted, making Nick flinch. As Sam turned her blue Prius into the driveway, he glanced toward the street at his SUV, praying the dog had gone to sleep. “Wow.” He waved as she slid out of her car. “That was a short hour.”

  “When Casey heard you were here, she told me I could leave earl—” Her smile dropped as she evidently caught sight of Dani. “What on earth are you wearing?”

  “We were discussing that,” Nick told her. “It seems summer lasted longer than our daughter’s wardrobe. We need to find her some cooler things in a larger size.”

  “I stored some of my shorts that are too small now in the attic. They might fit her.” Sam glanced at Ryan leaning against his car, and her eyebrows knitted. Her obvious lack of recognition indicated she’d never met the boy, either.

  “Meet Ryan Flynn,” Nick told her, “Dani’s friend.”

  Sam’s back became as stiff as the giant maple tree shading the front yard. “We need to talk,” she muttered through her teeth, gesturing toward the porch.

  Nick followed her to the front steps.

  “That’s the kid Ms. Carlson told me about,” she whispered. “You have to get rid of him.”

  “No way.”

  “What do you mean, no way? That boy cuts school nearly as often as he attends. Do you want him corrupting our daughter?”

  “Of course not. But if we forbid Dani to see him, she’ll sneak around behind our backs.” Nick glanced at his daughter and added, “Believe me, Sammy, I know. Because that’s exactly what I would’ve done in her place. And you keep saying she inherited my rebellious streak.”

  As far back as he could remember, his mother had insisted he was destined to be as worthless as the lowlife who’d taken advantage of her. Only the loving man she had the good sense to marry had believed in him. Unfortunately, his adoptive father, who’d been a welder, died from asbestos-related lung cancer when Nick was barely thirteen.

  After promising to take care of his mother and Justin, Nick had cut lawns, delivered newspapers, and shoveled snow to help pay the bills until he turned fourteen and was able to get a real job as a mechanic’s assistant. Still, his mother never showed a speck of faith in him, which made Nick, as a teenager, determined to prove she was right to believe he was no damn good. Of course, when he supposedly forced himself on his poor brother’s girlfriend—as his mother automatically assumed—and got Sam pregnant, Nick merely confirmed what his mother had always known.

  Her bastard son was just like his natural father.

  “So once again,” Sam said, jerking his focus back to her, “you’re unilaterally deciding what’s best for our daughter without giving me any say in the matter.”

  “No. You’re welcome to order Dani to steer clear of Ryan. But I refuse to ostracize that boy.” Odds were he didn’t have a dad, either—or at least not one who cared about him. Most likely Ryan was a decent kid at heart and simply needed a little guidance. “You forget—I know what it’s like to be an outcast.”

  Besides, with any luck, the boy’s presence would prevent Sam from screaming too loudly about the dog.

  “Then what do you suggest we do?”

  “You know the old expression, keep your friends close and your enemies even closer? Well, I plan to stick to that boy like lint on an Armani suit. As my new best friend, he won’t have a chance to be alone with Dani.”

  “Ahhh.” Sam nodded. “If she thinks we like him, she’ll decide she doesn’t.”

  “That’s the general idea.” He jerked his thumb toward the kids. “Go invite Ryan to stay for supper while I unpack the SUV.”

  Sam’s posture stiffened again. Evidently, she had no clue that he planned to move back into the house.

  ~*~

  “Unpack?” Sam did a double take at Nick, praying she’d misunderstood. “You don’t actually think you’re staying here?”

  A nonchalant shrug accompanied his well-duhhh-of-course scowl. “How else am I supposed to spend more time with Dani?”

  “I assumed you’d be renting an apartment in the area.”

  “And how would that improve my relationship with her? Our daughter made it clear this summer she doesn’t want to waste her precious time visiting me. We need to live together.”

  “Absolutely not!” Sam slashed the air with her hand. “You are not moving back in.”

  “You’re the one who insisted our daughter is starved for my affection, and is”—Nick looked pointedly over at Ryan—“about to give it all up to some guy. You can’t have it both ways, Abejita.” He cocked his head and lifted one eyebrow. “Unless....you want to move out and give me custody of Dani.”

  Right. She could imagine how good that would be for a sick child. “And let you feed her doughnuts and pizza for breakfast and dinner? I think not.”

  “Then I guess it boils down to how important our daughter’s welfare is to you. Are you willing to put her needs before your own?”

  Nothing like manipulating her with a little mother’s guilt.

  “And if you recall,” Nick continued, “I have as much right to live here as you, seeing as this place is still half mine, and I’ve been paying the mortgage.”

  “I didn’t ask you—”

  “And I didn’t want to watch the bank foreclose on my daughter’s home,” he added in a patronizing tone, no doubt meant to remind her how dependent she still was on him.

  Dani had been only a baby the first time they’d driven by the house. One look and Sam had fallen in love. The old Victorian reminded her of the dollhouse her dad had built for her. The divorce settlement had left her and Nick co-owners, but it had also mandated she was responsible for any bills aside from major house repairs and improvements.

  “If you recall, I also covered your share of
the house’s paint job last spring.”

  Without the money to buy Nick out, all she could do was call his bluff. “Maybe Dani and I should move into an apartment I can afford. Then you can live here.”

  “No way! You’re crazy about this house. And I don’t want my daughter living in some hovel or sitting home every weekend because you can’t afford gas.”

  “Oh, pardon me. I forgot I was dealing with the all powerful hombre, Don Nicolás. Oh, wait!” She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest to underscore her sarcasm. “I just remembered. We’re not married anymore. What you want isn’t a concern to me.”

  “Look, Sammy-Bee, pull in your stinger. I don’t want to argue about the same old crap. Accept the inevitable. You can either reimburse me, or let me move back in.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “Call it whatever you like. But any judge would consider it simple quid pro quo. I’m more than happy to continue helping financially, but you need to reciprocate my generosity with some of that neighborly hospitality you claim to enjoy, living in a small town.”

  She could threaten to take her chances in court, but the last thing she needed was to be sued for over a year’s worth of back mortgage payments and taxes. She didn’t have much choice but to agree to let Nick stay. “Okay, but just for now. And I expect you to start looking for your own place, ASAP.”

  As he sauntered toward his SUV, he flashed a self-satisfied grin over his shoulder “Yeah. I’ll get right on that,” he agreed, and then muttered just barely loud enough for her to hear, “just as soon as the Delaware River dries up.”

  Damn him. She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to smack the smug out of him.

  Nick popped the rear hatch with the remote on his keys and called, “Danita, there’s a surprise for you in the back seat. Ryan, would you gimme a hand with the boxes?”

  While Dani and Ryan loped side by side to the street, Sam started up the porch steps. A high-pitched shriek stopped her in her tracks.

  “Ohmigosh! You got me a dog!”