In Another Man’s Bed

by Francis Ray

  “I’ll make sure Justine goes home from now on,” Beverly said.

  “Do you think she’d rest, knowing you’re still here?” The social worker looked at Justine. “From what I’ve heard about your daughter-in-law, she is a very loyal and brave woman. She cares about you just as much as her husband.”

  Beverly reached out her other hand to briefly run it down Justine’s arm. “She saved Andrew’s life.”

  Justine stared down at her feet. She hated the attention then, hated it now. She wasn’t brave. She proved that daily by continuing to live a lie.

  “Justine,” Beverly said. “I need to be here.”

  Justine’s head came up. She knew what it was to live with regrets. She spoke to the social worker, who seemed to be the most understanding. “Can’t you make an exception? They were extremely close. What if she came back an hour after visiting hours were over so the other families wouldn’t know?”

  “This stops today. Now. Ms. Lancaster has pointed out that the other families are already complaining. I’m sorry,” Dr. Thomas said. “You both will have to adhere to regular visiting hours from now on.”

  “The nurses and Dr. Lane will take excellent care of Mr. Crandall,” Chaplain Hall said.

  Beverly stared at Dr. Lane with hate in her eyes. “There will be no more talk of signing any papers to shut off his machines or not to resuscitate him.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Dr. Lane,” Ms. Lancaster said, cutting him off. “If that is Mrs. Crandall’s wish, and it would make this easier for his mother, perhaps it would be best to wait a few days. What do you think, Chaplain Hall?”

  “I agree that the family needs time.”

  “Mrs. Crandall?” Andrew’s doctor prompted.

  Justine knew she held the key. “I agree with Andrew’s mother.”

  “As you wish,” Dr. Lane said tightly. “I have patients to see.”

  “Sorry, Beverly, but this is for the best.” Dr. Thomas nodded and followed Dr. Lane out the door.

  The chaplain came to them. “If you ever need to talk, just have the operator page me. If I’m not here, one of my associates will be.”

  All three men left. The social worker glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven fifty-one. “You can stay a few more minutes, but then you’ll have to leave and come back at ten. You can page me as well if you want to talk. You’re not alone in this.”

  “Thank you,” Justine said, very much aware that from Beverly there was nothing. The door swung closed after the social worker left. They were alone.

  “You’ll show them all, won’t you, Andrew?”

  Justine searched her mind for something to help Beverly, and tried not to feel guilty because all she could think of was what it meant to her. She was freer than she had been since the accident.

  Brianna woke up to the smell of coffee. Her eyelids shot up. Abruptly she sat up in bed as the night came crashing back.

  Patrick had spent the night, and what a glorious night it had been. At times their lovemaking had been achingly gentle, then fast and furious, whipping them both into a frantic fury. She’d never felt more exhilarated then or more frightened now.

  No man had ever touched her so deeply or wrung so much from her body. She’d been helpless in giving him all that he asked for, helpless to demand from him as well. He’d given, seemingly as helpless as she was to hold back.

  The door opened and Patrick stood there with a smile on his lips that did marvelous, naughty things to her body. “Morning, beautiful.”

  A woman’s heart shouldn’t race when a man called her beautiful; shouldn’t want a man she barely knew to crawl back in bed with her and take her on a slow ride to paradise.

  “Breakfast will be served in ten minutes. You better get a move on, or you’ll be late for work.”

  “Wait,” she called when he started to leave. She’d never been the insecure or needy type, but she was in bed with only a sheet covering her. He should have some reaction. “Is that all you have to say?”

  His head tilted as if in deep thought. “I can’t think of another thing.” He turned, took a couple of steps, then came back to the door. “On second thought, if you don’t get a move on, I might join you. Then you wouldn’t make it to work until it’s very late, but we’d both be wearing big smiles.”

  For a moment, just a moment, she considered being late and wearing that smile, letting him take her where only he could. He must have read her surrender, because he took a decisive step toward her, then stopped. “You tempt me like no other. Ten minutes and counting.”

  Brianna let out a breath. She’d known from the first that Patrick would touch her in ways that she didn’t want to deal with. She’d never fished for compliments. The man was a menace to her peace of mind.

  “Brianna, are you moving?”

  He also seemed to have an uncanny instinct where she was concerned. “Just don’t burn the pancakes.”

  His answering chuckle warmed her as she threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom. No man had ever cooked for her or tended to her so sweetly except her father. Patrick genuinely cared about people.

  He hadn’t asked yesterday or last night about Justine and Dalton. Men didn’t gossip as much as women, but there had to be questions on his mind. Instead he’d helped Dalton with his remodeling tasks, and taken Justine to see Andrew.

  She frowned as she dumped perfumed bath salts beneath the hot running water in the oversized bathtub. When Justine’s mother had called Sunday morning and she couldn’t find Justine, she hadn’t hesitated to let Patrick drive her to Dalton’s house. On some level she trusted him. Her parents and Dalton and Justine liked Patrick. They trusted him.

  Brianna stepped into the tub, picked up a bath sponge, and began to wash her arm. If she was honest with herself, and she wanted to be, she shared their opinion. She was fighting the attraction because of the quickness of finding someone after she broke up with Jackson.

  She moved the sponge to her other arm, then stilled as realization struck her. She was punishing herself instead of moving on. She’d accused Justine of doing the same thing. No more, she told herself as she resumed bathing.

  Patrick made life interesting, and for as long as it lasted, she was going to take full advantage and enjoy him.

  Shortly after six that day, Brianna stepped off the elevator on the fourth floor of her condo building with a huge smile on her face. Patrick was the reason and this time she was going to pamper him. Shifting the bag of groceries in her arm, she rang his doorbell.

  The door opened. Her heart did a quick dance at the first glimpse of Patrick’s gorgeous face. He smiled, causing her to sigh inwardly. Taking the bag with one hand, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and drew her to him. His dark head descended, his mouth settling on hers. The kiss heated her blood and made her body tingle.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he greeted, his lips just above hers.

  “Hello, handsome,” she answered when she had the presence of mind to do so. “Tonight, I’m taking care of you.”

  Desire flared in his eyes, telling her exactly how she could take care of him. Her breasts grew heavy. Maybe they could put off eating for a bit.

  “Perhaps you’d like to introduce me?”

  At the sound of the teasing male voice, Patrick’s arm around her waist tightened. Disappointment hit Brianna. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company. You can call me later.”

  “You’re not leaving. He is.” Patrick kissed her on the nose, then drew her inside and closed the door.

  Several feet away stood an angelically beautiful, broad-shouldered man with a wicked smile to match the glint in his black eyes. He was dressed in a black polo shirt and tight jeans that molded to his long, muscular thighs.

  “Brianna Ireland, my kid brother, Rafael.”

  “Hello, Rafael.”

  Rafael grinned, charm and mischief mixed together in one sinful package. Brianna could imagine his smile brought women by the droves. He crossed to he
r in a walk just shy of being a swagger and reached for the hand she extended.

  “Brianna,” Rafael greeted, his voice deep and velvety smooth.

  Patrick drew her back before their hands touched. “You’re not pulling that kissing her hand crap.”

  Rafael’s grin widened. “Can’t say I blame you. No wonder you didn’t want to go out with me on the boat.”

  “You have the key. Don’t rush back on my account,” Patrick told him.

  “Brianna, if you get tired of the old man, just look me up.”

  Brianna looked up at Patrick. Her heart swelled with an emotion she had yet to put a name to. She couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. “That’s not about to happen.”

  Patrick kissed her on the mouth, then said to his brother, “She told you.”

  “She sure did.” Rafael opened the door, then looked back, his face serious. “I’m really glad to meet you. He’s one of the best. Good-bye.” The door closed after him.

  “You could have gone with him,” Brianna said.

  “I enjoy being with you more.”

  Pleasure coursed through her. “Patrick.”

  He sat the bag on the floor and drew her fully into his arms. “What do you say we go enjoy each other and eat later?” he asked, nibbling on her ear.

  Her answer was a soft moan of surrender. “Enjoy now, eat later.”

  Picking her up in his arms, he strode to the bedroom. Brianna thought of the thick porterhouse steaks in the bag on the floor until his hand cupped her breast, his mouth covered her. They could always order takeout. Right now they were going to take care of and enjoy each other.

  She reached for the snap on his jeans.

  Twenty

  Justine had her life back. Almost.

  The next morning when she woke up she didn’t have to think too hard on what she wanted to do with the reprieve she’d been given. For too long she had thought of others first and herself not at all. That was about to change. She’d quickly bathed, dressed, and left the house.

  A short while later, she flicked on her signal and turned into Dalton’s driveway. She parked behind his Jeep and got out of her van. She felt better already.

  She didn’t want to think of the time she had sought to surprise Andrew and had received the shock of her life. Dalton had proved time and time again that he wanted the best for her. And, at the moment, she wanted the peace of the sanctuary he offered so selflessly.

  The sound of hammering reached her ear as she knocked on the door. When the noise continued, she twisted the knob and let herself in, and followed the sound, Dalton was bent from the waist nailing molding in the bathroom.

  Justine almost sighed. The man had a nice backside.

  She wasn’t aware of making a sound, but he went still, then straightened and spun. His eyes lit up, and the mouth she had dreamed about curved into the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.

  “Justine.”

  Just hearing the sweet, almost reverent way he said her name confirmed her decision to see him. She lifted the handled bag in her hand. “Breakfast.”

  Placing the hammer on the commode top, he studied her face as he walked to her. “What’s different?”

  He’d always been able to read her emotions. Briefly she explained the new restrictions on the visiting hours and finished by saying, “I want my life back. I want to do the things I want to do, not have to do.” She wiggled the bag in her hand. “Like share breakfast with a good friend.”

  “You deserve that and more.”

  She breathed an inward sigh of relief. Although they both knew the attraction they shared, she’d purposefully used the word “friend.” She hadn’t decided if she wanted to build on those feelings. “The food is getting cold. I told Iris I’d only be gone a couple of hours.”

  “Then let’s not waste another minute.” Taking the bag in one hand and her arm in the other, Dalton steered her into the kitchen. Once there he released her, set the bag on the table, and washed his hands. “There are paper plates in the cabinet.”

  Justine prepared their plates. “The kitchen is as neat as it was the other day.”

  “I had cooking and clean-up duties just like my sisters.” Grinning, he took a seat next to her. “Housekeeping chores were the one thing I couldn’t talk them into doing for me. Now I’m glad. My office might be a mess, but I don’t want the house to be the same way.”

  “It shows.” Justine pulled out two large foam cups. “Coffee for you and hot chocolate for me.”

  He blessed their food, then sipped the coffee and sighed. “One thing I’ve never learned is to make good coffee.” He nodded toward the automatic coffeemaker on the counter. “It’s top of the line, but the results are the same.”

  “If you have the coffee, I’ll fix you a pot before I go.” Justine buttered her biscuit.

  “I do, and thanks.” He bit into his pan-fried sausage. “Yesterday I picked up some paint samples and a lot of books at the home improvement store. If you have time I’d appreciate it if you’d look them over.”

  “I have time. Tell me what else you’ve done since I was here last.”

  “I painted the master bedroom and finished the crown molding around the ceiling as well.” He sipped his coffee, his gaze on her. “When we finish, you can see it.”

  “I’d like that. What else do you plan?” she asked, enjoying a normal conversation and realizing how much she’d missed the everyday things. Her life had been tied to Andrew’s. As she listened to Dalton, she felt freer than she had in months. She planned for it to continue.

  In the days that followed, more than one person commented that Justine had a new sparkle in her eyes. She thanked them and changed the conversation. Beverly even noticed and commented. Justine explained she was getting more rest. Although her mother-in-law had studied her for a long time, she said nothing further on the matter.

  Brianna, in her usual straightforward manner, had said the attention of the right man could do that to a woman. She’d had a dreamy expression on her face at the time. Patrick’s doing. They’d giggled like they were in high school. Life had taken an upswing for both of them.

  Each time Justine was with Dalton, she became further and further removed from Andrew. She continued to visit him in the morning and afternoon, but she did it out of respect and courtesy for Beverly, to support her. On one of those visits Dr. Lane had met Justine in the hallway and told her flatly that Andrew was not going to recover and to prepare herself.

  She’d kept the emotions contained until she was at Dalton’s house that night, and then cried in his arms. She’d cried for Andrew, for his mother, for those who loved him. Dalton had held her as he had the day she’d first come to see him at his house. She’d mourned the loss, then given Andrew up.

  Sunday, a few days after she’d spoken with the doctor, she’d driven to Dalton’s house after church. She caught herself humming and smiled. Life certainly had turned. Brianna was happy with Patrick. Justine had teased her about being tired lately. Patrick’s fault, she’d said and grinned.

  The right man could do that and a whole lot more.

  Pulling up behind Dalton’s Jeep, Justine got out. By the time she closed the door Dalton was there, a huge grin on his face.

  “Good morning.” He caught her hand. “I finished the master bedroom and bath. Come on.”

  Laughing at his enthusiasm, she allowed herself to be pulled up the steps and into the house. They’d shopped online to build around the antique mahogany four-poster and armoire of his maternal great-grandmother, which had been stored at his sister’s house.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready.”

  Opening the door, he stepped back. “What do you think?”

  At first sight she palmed her face. Masculine. Elegant. They’d chosen a bold floral print over a chocolate background with persimmon accents. It had meant redoing the walls in a rich paneling, but the results were worth it. “It’s beautiful.”

  “The mantel looks
great over the fireplace.” He rubbed his hand over the detailed hardwood with antique pewter highlights. Gas logs burned behind the black metal hinged fire screen.

  Justine fingered the striped chocolate silk draperies that framed the two elongated windows. “Everything came out perfect.”

  Relief shone in his eyes. “Your doing.” He rubbed his chin and glanced at the bed. “Although I’m not so sure about all those pillows.”

  There were at least ten. Justine laughed. “You can put some in the great room on the chocolate leather sofa you ordered.”

  “Will do.” He went to her. “Thank you for helping me make it home. Mama would have liked it. Daddy would have liked it because she did.”

  “When two people love each other they learn to compromise,” she said softly.

  “Yes, they do,” he said just as softly.

  Justine felt her body heat. Her world narrowed to the man standing in front of her. She recalled the soft texture of his beard, the searing kiss. Her breathing hitched.

  One finger, just one finger, curved from her chin to across her lower lip. “I want you, Justine. More than I’ve ever wanted another woman.”

  She gulped in air as her body quivered.

  “It won’t go away.” He stepped closer, tempting her. “I want your friendship and you to be happy just as much. Walk out of this room and this conversation won’t come up again.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “I want you, too.”

  “Thank goodness.” His mouth fastened on hers, pleasing her. She kissed him back with all the pent-up need and passion she’d been holding inside. The kiss seemed to go on forever.

  His fingers went to her blouse. Hers tugged his T-shirt over his head. He was as awed by her breasts as she was with his bare, muscled chest. He trembled, then hissed as she freely ran her hand over the warm, muscled flesh.