In Another Man’s Bed

by Francis Ray

  She pushed out of Dalton’s arms. “Thanks, but I fight my own battles. How about I skip the sauce?”

  “Done. I expect all of you between eight and eight thirty.”

  “I don’t think I should go,” Justine said softly.

  “I might not feel like driving from the store out to Dalton’s place,” Brianna said.

  Justine looked at Patrick. He shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Men tend to stay as far away as possible from Bliss when events are going on. Besides, I might have to show Dalton here how to grill.”

  “I’d appreciate it,” Dalton said. “I wouldn’t want to have Brianna and Justine drive out for nothing.”

  Justine could argue, but it was three against one. “All right. You don’t have to gang up on me.” She hugged Brianna. “I’ll pick you up at five thirty. Take care.”

  “You do the same.”

  “I will.” After one longing look at Dalton, she left.

  Dalton started after her before the door closed. Brianna caught his shirt in the back. “Not a good idea.”

  He rubbed his hand over his face. “I guess not. I stopped by to ask you to talk some sense into her head.”

  “I already tried. Couldn’t.” Brianna looped her arms through both men’s. “I’m tired of lying down, how about a card game?”

  “You feel up to it?” Patrick asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

  “Thanks to your excellent care I’m feeling better each day.”

  “If you get tired don’t be stubborn. Tell me.”

  Brianna’s brows arched. “I don’t like taking orders.”

  “Then don’t put me in a position to give them.”

  Laughter erupted. They both glared at Dalton. “Never thought I’d see the man who could be her match. I don’t think I’ll stay after all. Night, you two, and play nice.”

  “He said play nice,” Patrick said when the door closed after Dalton.

  She didn’t want to play nice. She wanted to drag him down to the floor and do naughty things to his body.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “It’s best if you don’t ask.” She waved him to a seat. “I’ll get the cards.”

  The doorbell rang again when she’d taken two steps. “I’ll get it,” Patrick said, going to open the door.

  It was a toss-up as to who was the most surprised, Brianna’s parents or Brianna. “Mama. Daddy. I didn’t expect you.”

  “We wanted to check on you,” her mother said, unable to keep her eyes off Patrick.

  Her husband had the same identical problem. “Hello, Patrick.”

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Ireland. I just came by to check on Brianna and make sure she takes care of herself.” He smiled. “You know how stubborn she can be.”

  “You’re asking for it,” Brianna said, her eyes narrowed.

  Patrick chuckled. “You wouldn’t dare hit me in front of your father, the lawyer. I’d have an impeccable witness.”

  “He would recuse himself, of course,” Brianna pointed out.

  Patrick seemed deep in thought for a moment, then his smile came slow and bright. “Then it looks like I’d have to ask your mother.”

  “You would, too.” Brianna playfully swatted him on the arm.

  “In a heartbeat.” He swiped his finger tenderly down her nose. “I better get out of here and let you visit with your parents.” Opening the door, he said to her parents, “She’s stubborn, but I’ll watch out for her. Good night.”

  Brianna closed the door, unaware of the half-smile on her lips until she saw her parents staring at her. She wiped the smile from her face. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “He knows?” her father asked. He never was one to beat around the bush.

  “Yes,” Brianna said and left it at that. Telling them that he had known before she did didn’t seem the thing.

  “He still comes around?” This question was from her mother.

  “Patrick is the kind of man who sticks, no matter what,” she said, and could read their minds. Why hadn’t she picked a man like him to be the father of her baby? Good question.

  “I liked that young man from the first.” Her father took a seat on the sofa. “Nice manners.”

  “He’s grounded, thoughtful, and good-looking.” Her mother sat beside her father. “Brianna, you should bring him over for dinner Sunday.”

  “Oh, no. Don’t you dare.” Hands on her hips, she stood in front of them. “No matchmaking. We’re just friends.”

  “I don’t believe either of us said differently. Did we, Susan?”

  “Certainly not,” her mother agreed. “Like Patrick said, you’re too stubborn for that. Now come over here and sit down. We don’t need anything to drink.” She scooted over. “You need to rest when you can.”

  Brianna sat down between them. She wasn’t fooled by their feigned innocence. They liked Patrick and saw him as the solution to their daughter’s problem. Arguing with them wouldn’t do any good. She’d gotten her stubbornness from both of them and, although it wasn’t well known, her mother was the worst of the three of them.

  “Let me handle this by myself, please,” she said.

  “Whatever you say, Pumpkin.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Brianna groaned. They were too agreeable. She was in for it now!

  Twenty-three

  Bliss was everything Brianna had heard it was—beautifully showcased with scrumptious, heavenly scented products and owned by three friendly, business-savvy women. Lorraine Averheart, the oldest and financial backer, was chic in an Armani pantsuit; Claire Bennett Livingston, the creator of the products, glowed in a Bill Blass dress in her final months of pregnancy; and Brooke Dunlap-Randle, the marketing genius, was stunning in a Ralph Lauren gown. All three women wore red and black, the signature colors of the popular and successful bath and body store in downtown Charleston.

  Within moments after the introductions, Lorraine and Claire had taken Justine and begun showing her around. Brooke took Brianna.

  “I’m so glad you were able to come,” Brooke said. “We have seaweed hand treatment, eye massages and moisturizing masks, aromatherapy pedicures, Bliss mud masks, and massages.”

  Brianna glanced over her shoulder to where two muscular men prepared a massage table and chair. “There’s going to be a long line for their services.”

  Warm laughter trickled from Brooke’s red lips; the same color was on her toenails—her feet were in three-inch Chanel spike heels—and her fingernails. “Hope so. The first five minutes are free, but after that you need points.”

  “Which are obtained by buying products,” Brianna explained.

  “Exactly.” Brooke tilted her head of classy short curls to one side, causing her chandelier earrings to brush against her cheek, and openly studied Brianna. “Patrick said you were sharp, but I wouldn’t expect any different from a woman he cares about.”

  That was true as far as it went, but her foolish heart wished for so much more. “He’s a great guy.”

  “That he is.” Brooke wrapped her arms around her own slim waist. “When he was injured—” She swallowed before going on. “We were so scared. It took him a long time to recover.”

  The thought of what Patrick must have gone through still made Brianna’s stomach roll. Her hand pressed against her abdomen to settle the churning motion.

  Brooke’s gaze dropped. “The baby making you feel queasy?”

  Brianna started, tongue-tied. She felt betrayed. “He told you?”

  “Don’t be upset with Patrick,” Brooke soothed. “He was concerned that the scents in here might make you ill or harm the baby. He’d read that some candles have lead in wicks and cause birth defects. I assured him on both counts. We’re a close family.”

  Brianna picked up a bottle of lotion, then a jar of moisturizing cream, only to put them down again. She recognized the restless movements for what they were, nerves. Another by-product of her pregnancy. “He has a tendency
to want to take care of everyone.”

  “That’s what makes him so wonderful. He deserves the best.” Brooke glanced around. “We better get started or you’ll be late for your dinner engagement, and Patrick will have my head. What do you want to do first?”

  Brianna knew she should probably let it go, but she couldn’t. “You don’t object to him still seeing me?”

  “I’m thankful. Patrick hasn’t dated since his accident. He’s been happier lately than he has in months. Of course, Rafael talked of how beautiful you were, but it would take more than looks to keep Patrick interested.” Folding her arms, Brooke leaned against the counter, which was filled with bath products. “The family is grateful.”

  Sadness washed over Brianna. Patrick would soon move on to other women who would know his special caring touch and loving. She’d lost him and it was her own fault.

  “I’m going to have the eye massage and moisturizing mask first.” Justine, the white terry cloth robe provided by Bliss draped over her arm, joined them. “Have you decided?”

  What Brianna wanted, she couldn’t have. “That sounds nice.”

  “I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” Justine said, staring around the store with excitement.

  “After tonight, we hope that will change.” Lorraine joined them and handed Brooke and Justine drinks in crystal flutes.

  “Sparkling cider,” Brooke said to Brianna. “We served it at our preopening to save money, but have kept it as a tradition.”

  Brianna knew the clarification was for her. Justine was already sipping her drink. Patrick came from a wonderful, supportive family. “There’s a lot to be said about tradition.”

  “I totally agree.” Claire placed her hands on her bulging abdomen. “My husband and I live in my parents’ home on Sullivan’s Island. If I could get him to agree to it, I’d have our baby there.”

  Brooke laughed. “Fat chance. He breaks a sweat if you sigh hard. I’m surprised he hasn’t been here to check on you. He only left two hours ago. Neglectful man.”

  As if on cue the door opened, causing the little silver bell to ring, and a handsome man in a gray tailored suit entered. His gaze centered on Claire. Entering behind him was a rugged, broad-shouldered man with two young children.

  “That will teach you to tease me,” Claire said. “Your family is here as well.”

  The little girl in a red and white polka-dot dress with a black sash broke away from the man holding her hand and, laughing all the way, ran straight to Brooke’s open arms. Scooping her up, Brooke kissed her on the cheek. “Ready to help?”

  The pretty little girl grinned. “I didn’t get my new dress dirty. I won’t run anymore. I was just running now so I won’t do it later.”

  “Of course you were. Smart thinking,” Brooke said just as the man with the boy reached them. He curved his arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. She introduced everyone to her husband, John, her children, Amy and Mark, and Claire’s husband, Gray.

  “Claire, you said you’d take it easy. Why aren’t you sitting down?” Gray asked as soon as everyone had exchanged greetings.

  Claire kissed her husband on the lips. “I’m fine. Better when I see you.”

  He put his forehead to hers. “Ditto.”

  “Mark, you ready to take orders and ring them up?” Brooke asked her son, who was dressed in a white shirt, red tie, and black slacks.

  He held up his calculator and notepad. “Ready.”

  “Then let’s get started.” Brooke sat Amy on her feet. “I’ll show Justine and Brianna to the back.”

  “I can do it,” Lorraine said.

  Brooke and Claire shared a grin before Claire spoke. “You might want to remain in the front. Hamilton is taking an early flight back.”

  Lorraine’s eyes lit up at the mention of her husband. “He said he’d try.”

  “Looks like he did more than that,” John said just before the front door opened.

  Lorraine hurried to meet the distinguished man entering the shop. He drew her into his arms, kissing her.

  “Ain’t love grand?” Brooke said, leaning against her husband’s rugged frame.

  Brianna’s throat clogged. Would she ever have that kind of utter devotion and love?

  “This way,” Claire said, leading them to the back of the store to change, her body gently swaying as she walked.

  Brooke and Justine followed. Gray certainly adored his wife, Brianna thought. He didn’t mind her bulging stomach or that she probably needed help putting her flat-soled shoes on. But he was the cause. What if the baby hadn’t been his?

  As Brianna went behind the curtained area to undress, she swept her hand over her still-flat abdomen. It would take a special man to love a woman whose body swelled with another man’s child. If time had been on her side, she might have found him in Patrick. It wasn’t.

  They were friends, not lovers, and she wanted to cry.

  Dalton stood on the front porch of his house and watched for Justine’s van. He just hoped she showed. She didn’t believe in deception, which was the reason she hadn’t wanted to slip around to see him when they were in high school. She’d honor her marriage vows the same way.

  The only reason she had allowed herself to be with him was because she thought Andrew wouldn’t recover. Now that he had, he held her even stronger in his deceitful grip. She’d honor her vows even if it meant she and Dalton wouldn’t have a future.

  “They’re on their way,” Patrick closed the front door behind him and leaned against one of the four white posts anchoring the porch. “I finally got through to the store.”

  “Thanks.” Both of them had become concerned when it was half past eight and the women hadn’t shown. “Guess they had a good time.”

  Patrick chuckled. “According to my niece, they had a ball being pampered from head to toe.”

  Dalton’s mouth tightened for just a moment. “They both deserve that and much more. Life isn’t being kind to either of them at the moment.”

  “Nope, but they have us.”

  Dalton switched his attention to the other man. Patrick met his gaze head-on. He was just the kind of man that headstrong Brianna needed. “I guess I should thank you for not judging us. Justine and Brianna have been friends since kindergarten.”

  “So I heard. When you hurt one, you hurt the other,” Patrick said. “Besides, I learned long ago to mind my own business.”

  “Appreciate it. Justine needs friends and a place to go where she can relax.” Dalton switched his gaze to the driveway. “When I took her to dinner, she couldn’t eat her food without people stopping by, asking questions.” It wasn’t lost on Dalton that he hadn’t mentioned Andrew’s name.

  “So I noticed at your book signing.”

  Dalton wondered what else he’d noticed. Patrick was sharp. Dalton hadn’t asked Patrick about his early retirement from the police force because that would give him leeway to ask Dalton questions. No way did he want to get into the worst days of his life.

  He caught a glimpse of a vehicle turning into his driveway and straightened up. He was standing by the driver’s door by the time the motor shut off and the door opened. “Hi. Food’s on the table.”

  Justine bit her lip instead of getting out as Brianna did on the other side. “Dalton, I . . .” She threaded her fingers through her hair.

  He easily read the apprehension in her eyes and knew the cause. “It was selfish of me to take advantage of the situation at Brianna’s place. It won’t happen again.” He held out his hand.

  She didn’t move. “Try to understand, the only way I can possibly get through this is that we don’t see each other as much.” She swallowed. “Not being with you is going to be hard, but I know that if we’re together too much, sooner or later, we’re going to give in and make love.”

  She spoke the truth. Even now he wanted to send Brianna and Patrick away, lay Justine down on his bed, remove her clothes, and make love to her, then start all over again.

  “D
alton, please help me,” Justine whispered, her voice strained.

  “Come on, you two.” Brianna stood at the bottom of the steps. “For once I’m starving.”

  “Go on in and start. Patrick knows where everything is,” Dalton said without looking away from Justine. He didn’t speak again until he heard the front door close. “You know I love you.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Good. Then the only way I’ll agree to not seeing you as much is that you promise not to forget that.”

  “Never. You’re my heart, the other half of my soul. Loving you helps me get through the day.”

  Her words went straight to his heart. “All right. Give me tonight if not tomorrow. I want to hold you, touch you, but we won’t make love.”

  She placed her unsteady hand in his. As soon as she was on the ground, he pulled her into his arms, nuzzled her neck. “You smell good.”

  “It’s Bliss’s Better Than Sex lotion.”

  “Say that again?” Dalton asked.

  Justine’s lashes lowered “Bliss has a line of products called Better Than Sex. I thought, considering how my life is going, I should try it out.”

  “And?” Dalton asked.

  Her fingertips brushed across his lips. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  He had to kiss her. His tongue mated with hers, tasting the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. His body hardened, begging for release that wouldn’t come. He went right on torturing himself, silently praying that this wouldn’t be their last time.

  “You smell good and look more like your usual fantastic self. You enjoy yourself?” Patrick asked as he sat a plate of food in front of Brianna.

  “Yes.” She picked up her fork, said her blessing, then cut into her sliced barbecued beef. “Delicious.”

  Patrick prepared his own plate and sat down at the table. “Are you that hungry or are you avoiding talking to me?”

  She forked in potato salad. “Guess.”

  Reaching over, he took her plate, then moved his out of reach when she reached for his. They eyed each other before she got up from the table and got another paper plate. “Brianna, you try me.”