My Name Is Desire: The Bad Baker Boys: Mark's Story

by Tonya Brooks

  Claire gasped in shock and whirled around to stare at John wide eyed. John stared back at her in pretty much the same manner. It took a couple of seconds for his alcohol clouded brain to register the significance of her presence as well as the way she was dressed. Harley's mother was standing in front of the open refrigerator wearing his father's shirt and looking as guilty as sin. That could only mean one thing. She was sleeping with the old man!

  “I... I believe there is,” she stammered nervously.

  Recovering from the shock, John replied, “Good. I'm starving,” as if nothing unusual were happening.

  Embarrassed as hell at being caught, Claire was grateful that John didn't start asking questions when the way she was dressed said more than enough about why she was in his kitchen in the middle of the night. Taking her cue from him, she decided to act as normally as possible under the circumstances. “Me, too,” she admitted as she turned back around and removed the plastic wrapped platter of chicken from a shelf. She placed it on the counter and asked, “Would you like me to warm it up for you, John?”

  “Nah. I like cold chicken,” he assured her as he stepped in front of the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of potato salad and a bottle of water. “Pop always did make great potato salad, but now that he's adding your homemade pickles, it’s too good to resist.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly as she picked up a leg and bit into it. Jedidiah's fried chicken was better than hers even if it was cold. “Your father is an excellent cook.”

  “Claire?” Jedidiah asked as he stepped out of the back stairs and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her in the kitchen with his youngest son.

  “Hi, Pop,” John said as he turned to face his father with a wicked smile and saw he was only wearing his pants since Claire had on his shirt. “We're raiding the fridge.”

  “So I see,” the older man said with a frown and should have known John would be after food when he got home. The boy raided the fridge after every performance and it looked like tonight was no exception, dammit. Worried at Claire's reaction, he watched her warily and could tell that she was embarrassed but didn't seem to be overly upset, so John must not be teasing her. If he did, Jedidiah would kick his ass. He'd be dammed if he'd have her upset.

  John grabbed a spoon out of the cutlery drawer, placed a couple of pieces of chicken in the bowl and said, “Well, I'm off to bed. Good night, folks.”

  Jedidiah watched him head back up the stairs with his arms laden down with food and looked back at the woman watching him with a worried expression. “John won't say anything,” Jedidiah assured her. “I'll kick his ass and he knows it.”

  “I know you think I'm being silly, Jed,” Claire said seriously as she put the platter back in the refrigerator and closed the door. “But I know what would happen if people found out about us, and I'd never do anything to hurt you.”

  He walked across the room to pull her into his arms. “The only thing that hurts me is not being able to claim you in public, dammit,” Jedidiah growled. “I don't like sneakin' around like we have something to be ashamed of.”

  “Please, Jed,” Claire pleaded softly. “Be patient with me just a little longer.”

  When she looked at him with those big blue eyes, he could refuse her nothing. “Alright,” Jedidiah sighed in resignation. Sooner or later he was gonna wear her down... if she didn't wear him out first. Claire was a passionate woman who had remained celibate far too long. Then again, so had he. They were a perfect match for each other in every way. Lifting a hand to stroke her hair, he said tenderly, “I won't push until you're ready, sweet lady. You mean too damn much to me to risk losing you.”

  “I'm yours for as long as you want me, Jed,” Claire said softly as she smiled up at him with all the love she felt shining in her eyes. “I love you.”

  It wasn't the first time she had said those words to him and he hoped it wouldn't be the last, even though he felt a pang of guilt every damn time, because he knew Claire meant it. The woman was in love with him and that knowledge scared the hell out of him. Jedidiah didn't know if he was capable of giving his heart away again, just as he knew that it was wrong to let her accept anything less. Without a word, for he had no words to give her, he lifted his lady in his arms and carried her back to bed.

  Chapter Two

  Saturday, August 3, 2013

  Mark woke the next morning with a hangover and had no idea how he had gotten home the night before. He assumed his brothers had brought him to the house and put him to bed since he was still wearing his clothes. With all the people in the house, the decibel level was deafening so he drug himself out of bed, went outside and stretched out in the hammock for some peace and quiet. It seemed he'd barely closed his eyes before an all too familiar voice said cheerfully, “Hi, Uncle Mark.”

  Mark groaned inwardly. The last thing he felt like doing was having a conversation and especially not with a too inquisitive, matchmaking eleven year old. “Hi,” he mumbled grumpily and kept his eyes closed.

  “What'cha doing?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “At eleven o'clock?” she asked in amazement that anyone could sleep that late. “Are you sick?”

  Not about to attempt explaining a hangover, he gave her the abbreviated version, “Headache.”

  “You look pale,” she pointed out and cocked her head sideways to study his profile. “And your face is kinda pinched like moms gets when I annoy her.”

  He understood the sentiment behind that remark but refrained from admitting it. Realizing the child wasn't giving up, Mark decided to interest her in someone else. “Where's Jed?”

  “Uncle Matt took him to pick up his tuxedo,” she explained. “It didn't fit right when they went yesterday.”

  Damn. “Where's your mom?” Please God, let her find someone else to annoy.

  Pleased that he had asked about her mom, the girl smiled cheerfully. “She and Aunt Harley went to pick up some stuff for the wedding.”

  Damn. There went that idea. “Why didn't you go?”

  “I hate shopping,” Kylie said with feeling. “Besides, Trey's gonna play ball with me when he gets back.”

  His nephew loved softball so that should keep the girl occupied for the rest of the day. “You play softball?” He asked against his better judgment. For such a pretty girl it seemed she was a bit of a tomboy. Then again, if she was his nephew’s best friend, she'd have to be. Jed was a Baker and as tough as nails, just like the rest of them.

  “Football,” she corrected him indignantly. “Softball is for sissies.”

  Mark couldn't prevent a smile at her analogy because he felt the same way. Football was a tough, physically demanding sport. A good scrimmage would separate the men from the boys every time. He was surprised such a delicate girl liked the game though. “You like football?” he asked curiously and opened one eye to peer up at her.

  “I love it,” she assured him in genuine excitement. “I'm a good receiver, but I can't throw a decent pass.”

  “Accuracy is important,” he nodded and wished he hadn't when his head began to throb.

  “I asked the coach at school to teach me and he laughed,” she scowled. “He said girls couldn't play football so it would be a waste of his time.”

  Mark heard the disappointment in her voice and before he thought better of the idea, volunteered, “I can teach you.”

  “Really?” the girl squealed in excitement.

  Mark stifled a moan at the octave she had hit. “Really,” he said quietly. “Just don't scream again, okay?”

  Kylie launched herself at him and hugged him. “You're the best, Uncle Mark,” she said in quiet excitement. “I'll go get the ball.”

  Ah, hell. He hadn't meant now, but the kid was so excited, Mark didn't have the heart to disappoint her. When she raced back outside with the football, he sat up and sighed wearily. The sheer joy on her face reminded him that the kid was starved for a man's attention and a pang of conscience stabbed him. What the hell? He'd show
her how to throw a few passes and make her happy. It was the least he could do, right?

  “Okay, Kylie. Show me what you got.”

  What she had was plenty of enthusiasm and it was contagious. Before Mark knew it, his headache was gone and he was having a good time teaching her how to throw. Kylie's hands were small, so holding the ball properly gave her some difficulty, but once she mastered that, he discovered that she had pretty good aim and a lot of determination.

  “Alright, go long,” he said as he threw the ball to her and grinned when she caught it. “Good girl,” Mark praised as he moved in closer. “Okay, Kylie, you can do it. Throw it just like I showed you.” She threw the ball back to him in a perfect arch and he caught it chest high. “You did it! That was great,” Mark enthused proudly when she nailed it.

  Kylie was so excited that she raced across the lawn and jumped into his arms to hug him fiercely. “I did it, Uncle Mark! I did it!” she laughed happily.

  “You sure did,” Mark agreed with a laugh as he returned the hug.

  “You're the best, Uncle Mark.”

  They continued to pass the ball back and forth until Mark realized he was starving. “What do you say we take a break and go get a cheeseburger?”

  “Can we?” she asked in surprise.

  “Sure,” he agreed with a grin. “After a workout like that, we might even need a banana split.”

  “Let's go,” the child said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the car.

  The lunch crowd at Ted's Diner was surprised to see Mark Baker unshaven and wearing rumpled, grass stained clothes, but nothing could have prepared them for the shock of seeing him with an equally unkempt little girl. Mark wasn't oblivious to the stares and whispers, he just didn't give a damn what they thought.

  Lakeside was a hot bed of gossip and the rumor mill had reported that he and his brothers had been competing for a redheaded woman the night before. There was no doubt that this child had to belong to the woman, and if Mark was out and about with the girl, then the consensus was that he must be involved with her mother. The gossip grapevine would have a field day with this one.

  When Velma came to take their order, she asked curiously, “Who's this pretty young lady with you, Mark?”

  Mark had known the older woman since he worked at the diner as a teenager, and he knew she was the biggest gossip in town, so he told her the truth. It would be a nice change to have the gossip grapevine reporting the facts for a change, he thought smugly. “This is Kylie. She's Jed's best friend and a pretty darn good quarterback,” he said with a grin at the girl.

  “Quarterback?” Velma repeated in surprise. “Mark Baker, don't tell me you've been playing football with this pretty little thing.” In spite of the fact that the girl was tall for her age, she looked as delicate and fragile as a flower.

  “Uncle Mark is an awesome quarterback,” the child enthused. “He taught me how to throw a perfect pass.”

  “Uncle Mark, huh?” the waitress asked knowingly. If the girl was calling him uncle, there must be something going on with Mark and her mother.

  Mark heard the innuendo and ignored it. It wasn't worth the effort of trying to correct the waitress. People would believe whatever the hell they wanted to and he knew denying something just made them more curious. “Bring us two cheeseburger combos and a banana split.”

  “No onions or pickles, please,” Kylie added politely.

  “Coming right up,” Velma agreed and went to place their order. She gave the other waitress a knowing look when she informed her that the girl was calling him Uncle Mark. By the time Velma placed their food on the table, everyone in the diner had heard the news.

  They ate their cheeseburgers while Kylie drilled him with questions about his days as a professional football player and he answered them in amusement because the girl really did love the game. She was as knowledgeable as she was curious and it seemed she knew the stats of all her favorite players and their teams.

  “You're as smart as you are pretty,” Mark told her at one point and she blushed much like her mother. The reminder of her mother made him look at his watch. “We'd better get going, Kylie. The rehearsal is at three and Aunt Harley will raise hell if we're late.”

  “Okay,” the girl agreed in disappointment. She had really enjoyed spending time with him, but then she perked up when she realized, “Trey should be home by now.”

  They arrived at the house and into complete bedlam. “Kylie!” a pale and shaken Desi cried as she ran out of the house and pulled her daughter into a protective embrace. “My God, where have you been? I've been half out of my mind looking for you!”

  Ah, hell. Mark knew he was in for it now. “It's my fault,” he said regretfully. “I should have told Pop we were going to get some lunch.”

  She whirled on him furiously. “How dare you just take off with my daughter? Do you have any idea how worried I've been? I didn't know if she'd fallen in the river or been kidnapped or...” her voice broke on a sob.

  “Desi, I'm sorry,” Mark assured her seriously as he realized just how worried she had been, thinking that her daughter might be dead or worse. “It never even occurred to me that you didn't know where she was.”

  “You stay the hell away from Kylie,” she choked out and led her daughter into the house.

  Kylie began to protest her mother’s decision loudly. “But, Mom, Uncle Mark didn't do anything wrong! He taught me how to throw a pass and I did it just right. Please don't be mad at him, Mom. I'm sorry I worried you, but we were hungry so we went to get a cheeseburger and a banana split and...”

  Mark sighed wearily when they went into the house. Great. Just freakin' great. He'd tried to be nice to the kid and now her mom was pissed because of it. Hell, he hadn't meant to worry her, but he wasn't used to reporting his every move. When he got ready to do something, he did it. That was one of the nice things about being single. He could do whatever he wanted to.

  The hell with it. He was sorry the kid would be disappointed, but if her mom was gonna go ballistic, he was better off not spending time with either one of them. He headed for the door where Harley was watching him with a disapproving look. “What?”

  “Honestly, Mark. You should have told Pop where you were going,” she reproved. “We've looked everywhere for Kylie. Matthew and Jed are still out searching the woods. I was about to call Brett when you drove up.”

  “Hell, we just went to get a cheeseburger,” he complained. “It's not like I kidnapped the kid.”

  “Pop said you'd been playing football with her and he kept assuring Desi that Kylie had to be with you.”

  “You should have called me,” he pointed out.

  “I did,” Harley said in exasperation. “You left your phone in your room.”

  “Dammit,” he growled in frustration. “I didn't realize we'd worry anyone.”

  “You're not a parent,” she said dryly. “If you were, you'd have known better.”

  For some reason that comment stung. “I hang out with Jed all the time and nobody ever sends out a search party,” he protested.

  “Because Jed always let's someone know where he's going,” she reminded him. “I would have been just as frantic if he'd disappeared without a word.”

  “I was just trying to be nice to the kid,” he said angrily. “But you're right about one thing. I'm not a parent and after this, I sure as hell don't want to be.” That said, he went into the house and upstairs to take a shower.

  Desi met him on the landing. Her daughter had filled her in on how he had spent the afternoon with her and she deeply regretted losing her temper and yelling at him. Kylie was starved for a man’s attention and it had been so sweet of Mark to spend time with her and show Kylie how to throw a football. Desi was ashamed of her own behavior and really appreciated that he had taken the time to be nice to her daughter.

  “Mark, I'm so sorry I overreacted,” she said regretfully. “I was worried and I shouldn't have taken it out on you.”

  “Yo
u had a right to,” he admitted, the anger gone as quickly as it had surfaced. “We were having a great time and I didn't even think about telling anyone where we were going.”

  Desi knew her daughter had enjoyed the afternoon immensely, but she was surprised to find out that he had as well. Most men that she had encountered didn't enjoy spending time with children that weren't theirs, and sometimes even if they were theirs. “I really do appreciate you teaching Kylie how to throw a pass. I can't tell you how much it meant to her,” she said with a tentative smile.

  “She's a hell of a quarterback,” he grinned.

  She laughed at his assessment of her daughter’s skill. “She really loves football.”

  “An intelligent child if ever I met one,” he said in approval.

  “She's too smart for her own good,” she agreed ruefully. “I hope Kylie didn't pester you too much today. She can be persistent when she sets her mind to something.” And her daughter desperately wanted a father. She'd already had her sights set on Mark, but now that he'd spent some time with her, Kylie was certain that he'd be the perfect husband and father and had cheerfully informed her mother of that as well.

  “Kylie's a great kid,” he said honestly. “You've done a good job raising her.”

  “She can be difficult,” she sighed.

  “It's only natural she'd want a father,” he assured her. “My brothers and I went through the same thing when we were kids.”

  “So you embarrassed your dad by trying to fix him up with every woman you met?” she asked doubtfully.

  “Hell, no,” Mark denied with a grin. “Pop would've kicked our asses. Besides, after Mom died he swore he'd never get married again.”

  “Maybe he was afraid of being hurt again,” Desi found herself saying and wasn't aware how much she had revealed at the admission.

  “Is that why you're still single, Desi?” Mark probed, curious as to her answer because a beautiful lady like Desi shouldn't have any trouble finding a husband. “Are you afraid of being hurt again?”