Bryan sat. On the recliner. Away from her.
So Jenna got off the sofa and sat on the floor beside him. She needed to be beside him because when he learned the truth… Bryan wasn’t callous. He was hurting. And this would make him hurt more.
“Mindy had cancer. She found out while she was pregnant and she elected to go through with the pregnancy without any treatment so she could give Trevor his best shot at life.”
“What?” Bryan’s voice was harsh, ragged. As full of emotion as hers.
She nodded. “That’s why she’s not here. That’s why she couldn’t find you. She looked, oh, yes, she looked, but the diagnosis was awful and then her only focus was on making it to the end. Making it to the birth so her life wouldn’t have been in vain.” She went on to tell him just who Mindy was to her, about the guilt that Mindy had shared with her on her deathbed of taking her father from her. Jenna had, of course, absolved her—Mindy was as much a victim of the whole mess as she had been, and Jenna had never blamed her.
“So she signed Trevor over to me. We went to a lawyer and had it all done properly so that I’m his legal guardian. And because her mother had died and she had no one, she wanted me to tell everyone that Trevor was my son. She didn’t want him to be the kid whose mom got pregnant at a bachelor party and didn’t know his father. I’d had a boyfriend and my mom was still around. Plus, I, well, the other baby… People wouldn’t have been surprised when I showed up with a child.”
“You allowed her to use your pain?”
“It didn’t matter, Bryan. I wanted—we wanted—to do what was best for Trevor. And that was knowing he was loved and wanted and his life was stable. We’d actually hoped my fiancé at the time, Carl, would be willing to adopt him as well, so Trevor would grow up in a two-parent home, loved and cared for and secure in his life.”
“What happened?”
“Carl didn’t want someone else’s child. He wanted his or none at all.”
Bryan’s face got hard. “Someone else’s child? That’s how he referred to Trevor?”
She left out the bastard part. No need to make it worse than it already was. She’d spare him that. “Yes. I know. Awful isn’t it? I tried to tell him that Trevor would be our child, but Carl couldn’t get beyond biology. So we broke it off and I’ve raised Trevor ever since.”
“But why didn’t you tell me? When you knew who I was to him, when you saw that I wanted to be in his life—when I proposed to you—why didn’t you tell me then?”
This was the hard part, though remembering Mindy’s death had been hard, too. But this… this could shape their future and if she messed it up…
“I was scared, Bryan. Just like I am now. So scared that you would do something to take him away from me. We knew the adoption could be questioned because the father hadn’t signed away his parental rights. It was always there, hanging over my head, that Trevor’s father could come back into the picture and want him. Might even be able to win a case for custody and I’d have to share him, or worse, lose him.
“So when I saw you on my porch, when I saw your eyes, and I knew who you had to be… I panicked. I’d been living with this half-truth for so long, I just kept it going. I couldn’t tell you. Even after you proposed… I figured it was to make us a family. And I was okay with that. It might have been different if you were in love with me, but you aren’t and I couldn’t risk anything because of Trevor.
“He loves you. And you love him. And us being together makes so much sense that I was thrilled to continue the lie for him. Or so I thought. But then…” She gulped. “Then things changed and I had to tell you the truth. I was going to tell you the truth. I was. I’d decided tonight in the grocery store that I had to. I’d planned to come clean after we put him to bed tonight, and ironically, I was going to show you the video.” Her voice cracked and the tears she’d worked so hard to keep from letting loose wouldn’t be denied any longer. “I wasn’t trying to keep you from finding out, Bryan; I was just trying to make sure I wouldn’t lose him.”
The club’s music thudded mutedly from below them, while Jenna held her breath, waiting for Bryan to say or do something. Anything. This unknowing was almost worse than if he told her get the best attorney in town because he was going to fight her for full custody.
“What changed, Jenna?”
“What?”
“You said that things changed. What things?”
Jenna looked at him. Here it was. Her moment of truth. Did she have the courage to go for it? What if she did and lost?
What if you don’t and still lose?
Damn her conscience.
“I…” She licked her lips. “I fell in love with you.”
The music marked the time it took Bryan to answer, every beat drumming into her soul.
Bryan leaned over and reached for her hands. “You’re not going to lose him, Jenna.”
“What?” She hadn’t expected those words.
He drew her to her feet and stood beside her, so close beside her, and brought their joined hands to his heart. “You’re not going to lose Trevor. Or me either if you can forgive me for thinking the worst of you. For not being there for you when you and Mindy were going through something so unbelievably awful that it amazes me you’re not bitter and angry. That you can still love Trevor so fully and completely as if you had given birth to him yourself. That you’ve changed your life for him and given up the man you’d planned to marry for him. There’s no greater love in this world and you’ve proven it beyond a doubt—even when you didn’t have to prove it. You did it because you wanted to. Any child would be lucky to have you for his mother.”
He kissed her fingers, lingering on the one where he’d put his mother’s ring. “Just like any man would be lucky to have you as the mother of his children, whether genetic or adopted.”
He cupped her cheek, not letting go of her hands with his other one. “I want to be that lucky guy, Jenna. I don’t want to throw away what could be because I made a mistake. I understand your fear, and, frankly, I love that you went to such lengths to protect him. I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my children, and more importantly, if you love me even half as much as you love him, it’d be more than enough for me.”
“But I don’t, Bryan.”
He stiffened and the light I his eyes disappeared. “You don’t?”
She licked her lips and shook her head. “No.”
“Oh.”
And then he dropped her hands and stepped back. Away from her.
She reached for him. “Where are you going?”
He winced and swiped the hand that had, moments ago, been holding her face so tenderly, across his jaw, the rasp of his stubble grating through the silence.
“I don’t want to force myself on you. We can come to some amicable arrangement with Trevor, I’m sure. I mean, we both love him and wants what’s best for him and—”
It was her turn to cup his cheek. “You’re doing it again.”
“Again?”
She nodded. “Making another mistake.” She took another step closer. “I said I didn’t love you half as much as I love Trevor. I love you just as much. In a completely different way. One that will take me a lifetime to prove to you.”
“A lifetime?”
She nodded again, liking this unsure side to him. “Our lifetime. If you still want it, that is.”
Then Bryan’s arms swept around her and he crushed her to him, hiking her up so her lips were even with his, and Jenna had to say that she liked this side of him even more.
“Oh, I want a lifetime with you, lady. Most definitely.” He lowered his lips and just before they met hers he stopped. “And for the record? I’m in love with you, too. Just so there’s no mistake about that.”
And there never was.
The End
Read on for Gage and Lara’s romance,
Book 1 in the BeefCake, Inc series,
Beefcake & Cupcakes!
The Morning After
T
his wasn’t her hotel room.
The suit jacket tossed on the chair was Lara’s first clue.
The discarded matching pants on the floor in front of it was her second.
The dip in the mattress as someone got off the bed behind her was her third.
Oh my God. What had she done?
Well, it was pretty obvious what she’d done, but, oh God...
Lara clamped her eyes shut as that someone came around the foot of the bed, peeking only when she heard the bathroom door slide open.
Oh my. The guy’s bare naked ass looked really good. Probably better out of those pants than in them—too bad she didn’t remember what it’d looked like in them.
Too bad she didn’t remember him.
The door clicked closed and Lara shot to her feet—to the second shock of the morning.
She was wearing only a t-shirt. And it wasn’t hers.
She didn’t want to think about whose it was or how she came to be in said t-shirt; she just wanted to grab her dress, shoes, and purse, and get the hell out before her one-and-only one-night stand finished doing whatever it was a one-night stand did the morning after.
She scooped the dress off the dresser—no, she wasn’t going to think about how it’d gotten there—tore his shirt up over her head then the dress down over it, and bagged looking for her bra. She just wanted out.
Her shoes were next to the chair—one was under it—and her purse, thank God, was hanging on the hotel room door.
Twenty-five seconds. That’s all it took her to escape from the most un-Lara-like thing she’d ever done in her life.
It took thirty-five more seconds for the damn elevator to make its way to the—she squinted at the floor marker above the “Down” arrow—the tenth floor.
Thank God there was no one in the elevator. She didn’t need witnesses to her walk of shame.
God, wouldn’t Jeff be shocked to see her now? “Sexually boring and uninspiring” was what he’d said to explain the affair—among others—but this walk of shame negated those.
She couldn’t believe it. Thirty-years-old with her own up-and-coming bakery, yet one too many shots at her college roommate’s bachelorette party had her picking up some random guy for a night of uninhibited monkey sex to soothe her smashed-to-smithereens ego from an ex who didn’t deserve the time of day let alone this kind of prove-him-wrong strategy.
It had been uninhibited monkey sex, right?
She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up an image, but the last thing she could remember was jitterbugging on the dance floor.
She didn’t know how to jitterbug. But, apparently, that hadn’t stopped her.
Oh, God, her head. And her stomach. And that cotton mouth thing…
The bell dinged as the elevator arrived at the second floor. She fumbled for her room key and stumbled out into a blessedly empty hallway. Her room was down a few doors, and thankfully she’d decided to forego a roommate on this trip.
Well, a regular roommate.
Who was the guy? She didn’t even remember what he looked like, let alone his name.
She groaned as she made it into her hotel room. How bad was it that the only recallable part of him was his bare naked ass and that she only remembered because she’d seen it on her way out the door?
She peeled the dress off her body—it’d been on backwards—and headed into the bathroom. Shower, breakfast, and a big glass of orange juice, then she could grab her car and get the hell out of Dodge so she wouldn’t have to risk running into her biggest regret anytime soon.
But the question was: what was her regret for? That she’d picked him up in the first place, or that she couldn’t remember a damn thing about what had come after?
***
Gage ran the towel through his hair, then wrapped it around his hips. Didn’t want to shock Sleeping Beauty out there with nudity upon opening her gorgeous eyes.
He caught his smile in the mirror. Yeah, it was wolfish, but why shouldn’t it be? He’d ended up with the most gorgeous woman at the party, and that included the bride-to-be.
Of course, he’d broken his own rules to do so—no partying with the patrons—but she’d walked in and knocked him sideways.
It’d be funny, really, if it weren’t so, well, not. He never went for short, dark, and curvy. Model-thin bombshells were more his type. At least, they had been. But then she’d walked in, her curves making his palms sweat, her curls begging for his fingers to dive in and hold on, and those chocolate brown eyes... They’d screamed bedroom so loudly they’d almost drowned out the music, and he’d had a hard time keeping his mind on the show.
Thank God the guys knew their shit. Markus had known it a little too well; he’d been focused on Lara from the first bump-and-grind number.
Luckily, no one had questioned the quick change-up in routines he’d made so that Markus was off stage until the middle of the second act.
By then, the shots that’d been flowing around that table had insured Lara’s interest had no longer been solely on Markus.
That’s when he’d made his move.
Made his move. Gage groaned. What was he—twenty? He never had to make moves; women flocked to him.
But she’d been wedged in the corner of her booth, surrounded by friends, staring at the stage, and hadn’t looked like she was going to get out anytime soon.
He grabbed his toothbrush. He should have moved sooner. Then maybe she wouldn’t have done those last two shots. The woman was a lightweight. She’d made it to the hotel elevator and had literally passed out in his arms. It’d put a damper on his evening, but not his libido.
He just hoped she was more awake this morning.
He finished brushing his teeth and poured a glass of water. She was going to need it and it’d give him the excuse to sit beside her.
And hopefully do much more.
He opened the door softly. He wanted to be the one to wake her, not the noise or the light from the bathroom.
Except… she was gone.
He slumped against the doorframe. Served him right. He played to the fantasies of hundreds of women every weekend, but the one whose fantasy he’d personally wanted to grant apparently had no interest in letting him.
Click here to buy
And here’s the first in the Once-Upon-A-Time Romance series,
Beauty and The Best
Once upon a time…
a long time ago,
there lived a beast of a man,
locked within a castle
with no one to love him.
This is not his story.
This is the story of another man,
locked within himself,
and the Beauty
who sets him free.
Chapter One
There’s a naked man in my kitchen.
The thought registered just as the terse, “Who the hell are you?” had Jolie Gardener spinning around faster than a figure skater on speed.
He had the nerve to ask this? He of the broad shoulders, six-pack abs, and other, nice, um, parts...
Really. A naked man. In her kitchen.
Well, technically, she was in a naked man’s kitchen. Even more technically, she was in a naked Todd Best’s kitchen—and there wasn’t one hint of self-consciousness or embarrassment on his part. Of course with that body, there shouldn’t be. The guy should flaunt his nudity for the world to see. Which, at present, consisted of one single, solitary person: Jolie Gardener, aspiring writer and personal chef extraordinaire.
“Well?” His hands slammed to his hips.
“You’re naked,” she squeaked, which, really, was the only way to state that kind of obvious.
“I’m what?” Mr. Six-Pack Abs glanced down.
Jolie tried not to—so unsuccessfully it was pitiful.
“Shit,” he muttered. “I am. I, uh, fell asleep last night…”
As butter sizzled in the new super-slick omelet pan on the top-of-the-line range, Jolie’s gaze alternated between some rock-
hard abs and a scruffy eight a.m. shadow while her fingers danced along the speckled granite countertop in search of a napkin, placemat, oven mitt… something.
Mercifully, they scooped up a thick dishtowel that, in her world, would constitute a very plush, very luxurious hand towel from The Ritz or The Four Seasons, but which, here, apparently, was used to soak up water from designer flatware. She dangled it in the direction of Mr. Au Naturel. “Here.”
He placed an empty bottle of Jim Beam on the island countertop with a clink, then took the towel with a grunt. “So, who are you, what are you doing in my kitchen, and would you mind turning around?”
She turned. “I’m the new girl the agency sent over.”
“Hell. There better be some aspirin left,” he muttered beside her, his bare (of course) feet making no sound on the limestone floor.
She peeked over at him.
His eyebrow soared skyward.
Right.
She turned back to the sizzling butter. Which had started to burn. Sigh.
He rummaged around in one of the drawers as she carried the pan to the sink. Trying to impress the new boss on her first day with his favorite omelet ranchero and she burned the butter. Not good, but then, it wasn’t exactly her fault because nowhere in those papers she’d signed with her employment agency, Domestic Gods & Goddesses, was mention made of an optional dress code. And she didn’t care how much they were paying her, nudity did tend to throw one off. As for the alcohol-before-breakfast debacle, she wasn’t even going to address that. His rudeness said it all.
And here, she’d been worried about making a good impression on him.
A click of plastic bottle cap followed by a shake of the bottle, the fridge opening, a gulp, then Naked Guy sighing punctuated the silence before she turned on the faucet. She cleaned out the pan, all the while the Naughty Girl side of her brain screaming, “Turn around!” with the other, Jolie side, going, “You want to keep this job?”
Beefcake & Mistakes Page 25
