Beguiled Again: A Romantic Comedy

by Patricia Burroughs

  “Why don’t we leave Jeff alone for a while?” she said, escorting them into the hall and closing the door behind her.

  “How wong is Jeff staying?” Anne-Elizabeth asked, her brow knit with concern.

  “Overnight should be long enough,” Cecilia said. “How would you like to sleep on the living room floor with me? That way we’ll hear him if he needs something in the middle of the night.”

  The front door banged open and Brad entered with two small pill bottles in his hands. “I found ’em. They dropped behind the seat. I’ll take Jeff his.” He loped down the hall and into his mother’s bedroom, only a slight limp to indicate the seven stitches holding his wound tidily closed. He emerged moments later with one pill bottle, slammed the door behind him and spun to face his mother and siblings, his freckled face wreathed in a grin. “Wow! You should see Jeff’s undershorts!”

  “Brad, go into the living room and get off your leg,” Cecilia said quickly. “And give me your medicine.”

  “But they’re red—”

  “Who wants lemonade?” Cecilia interrupted, tucking his antibiotics into the pockets of her slacks.

  “Jeff wears pwetty wed socks,” Anne-Elizabeth said. “I wike wed.”

  “Annie, make sure Brad gets off that leg. You be the doctor, all right?”

  The four-year-old immediately jumped into action, grabbed her brother’s arm and dragged him toward the living room. “You have to do what I tell you ’cause I’m the doctor and I said wie down!” she ordered. Brad allowed himself to be bullied into obeying, graciously accepting the plumped pillows, afghan and stuffed bear she found necessary for his recuperation.

  Cecilia grabbed a tray, a pitcher and a ladle, and began preparing the lemonade.

  “Mom...”

  Peter stood uneasily beside her.

  “You must be wondering...”

  “I think that between Jeff’s repeated apologies and Anne-Elizabeth’s explanations I’ve finally managed to piece together what happened.” She smiled, handing him a glass. “It’s all right, Peter. Accidents happen. It’s nobody’s fault, and since Jeff only needed a few stitches, I think we can chalk it up to just another day in the Evans zoo, don’t you?”

  “I guess so. But I figured you’d want to know why—”

  “Wait. Did you hear something?” she asked, her heart suddenly thumping a little faster. “I thought I heard Jeff calling.” She placed two glasses on the tray. “I’ll take his lemonade. And why don’t you take Brad’s drink to him?” She hurried to the bedroom, entered silently, then nudged the door shut with her hip.

  “Thank you,” Jeff moaned.

  “For what?”

  “For not crashing, banging or slamming the door.”

  “I left a message for Robert, and when he calls I’m going to ask him come get the kids.”

  Jeff’s brow furrowed, and he winced, gingerly touching the bandage at his temple. “Why are you sending them away?”

  “Because,” she said, “you don’t need them banging and slamming and crashing through the house with your head about to burst.”

  “Oh.” He blinked at her. “You really don’t have to do that. I don’t mind them staying.”

  She placed the tray on the dresser. “Let me pull the shades.”

  “Please.”

  When the room was darkened, she faced him and sighed. “Oh, Jeff.”

  “I thought it was 'oh, my.’”

  “I don’t know what to say.” She clenched her hands against the small of her back. “Well, at least now you understand.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then he said, “I think I’m too shaken up to understand anything. Why don’t you humor me with an explanation?"

  Cecilia knelt beside him, bringing her face close to his. “You didn’t ask for any of this. You just stepped in, as usual, Mr. Nice Guy, and the next thing you know, you’re in the ER with a concussion.” She shook her head, her throat tightening. “We’ll drive you crazy, if we don’t kill you first.”

  “That seems to be a distinct possibility.” His hand fell limply to the side of the bed. “Could I have my lemonade now?”

  She jumped to her feet. “Of course.” She grabbed the glass, her hand trembling. “You’re going to have to sit up.” She eased her arm under his shoulders to help. Without warning he caught her and pulled her against his chest as he placed the glass on the bedside table with his free hand. “Kiss me, Cecil.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t—”

  “It’s the least you can do.”

  She pressed her lips tentatively against his, felt his arm tighten around her back, and closed her eyes. How could anything so disastrous as what they were doing to each other feel so wonderful, so right? She pulled away to catch her breath, and he let her.

  “Thanks,” he muttered. “I needed that.”

  She slid out of his arms.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You need your rest.”

  “My head agrees with you.” He caught her hand. “You look terrible, Cecil, and you didn’t fall out of a tree. So what’s your excuse?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The way I hear it, you’re not sleeping, you’re bitchy as hell—”

  “Says who?” she demanded.

  “Well... some of it I’ve surmised.” He wouldn’t release her hand, even when she tugged. “I’m glad to see you’re surviving so well without me.”

  “I am,” she said, unable to stem the belligerent tone of her voice.

  “Cecil... don’t do this.”

  She blinked, then swallowed hard. “Jeff, if all this today hasn’t convinced you that marrying me is a mistake—”

  “It hasn’t.”

  “Then I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Try admitting that you need me.”

  She jerked her hand free. “I don’t need you to survive. I’ve managed quite well without you.”

  “But?”

  “Well, I... I can’t very well lie about it. I’m not happy.” The words sounded so inadequate, yet how could she put it any more plainly?

  “Is that all?”

  “That’s about it.” She sighed.

  “So what are you going to do now that you’ve made this discovery?”

  “I guess I’m going to have to get used to being unhappy.”

  “I hope you aren’t serious.” He tried to sit up, but she applied gentle pressure to his shoulder.

  “Of course I’m serious. Jeff, you have no idea how much responsibility is involved in this business of raising kids. It’s...” She felt a sob growing in her throat and fought it down. “Sometimes it’s more than I can handle.”

  “When is the last time you admitted that?” he asked softly.

  “It doesn’t make any difference. It’s a big job, and I love it, and I do a damned good job of it. But I can’t ask anybody...not even you...to share it.” She raised her eyes imploringly to his. “Don’t you understand? I’m not protecting the kids anymore. I’m protecting you.”

  “Cecil.”

  She blinked back tears.

  “I’ve never felt as... cared for... as I’ve felt today,” he said.

  “Of course,” she sniffed. “That’s the way they are. They were scared, and they’ll do anything they can for you today, but—”

  “Tomorrow Anne-Elizabeth will use my socks for doll clothes and Peter will call me a jerk.”

  She nodded forlornly. “That’s about the extent of it.”

  “And I’ll probably growl a little and... learn to hide my socks.”

  “And your underwear,” she added.

  “My under—Oh, yeah. Brad.”

  She nodded. “So you see—”

  “I see that you don’t give me credit for having enough sense to make my own decisions. You’re trying to make them for me, which if I did for you, you’d wallop me.”

  “I think that blow to the hea
d has knocked you silly.”

  “Cecil, stop making excuses and admit that you’re wrong, or I’ll drag you to the top of that tree and toss you out on your head and knock you silly.”

  “Let’s drop the subject, okay?” She couldn’t stand there and listen to him talk this way. She couldn’t allow this niggling hope to flicker to life in her.

  "Not until you agree to marry me.” He grasped her arm and tugged her down to meet his lips.

  She should pull away. She could if she tried. But the ache inside her cried out for healing. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to lose herself in his eyes, those wonderful root-beer-colored eyes. Their lips brushed gently, testing, tasting. She didn’t want to hurt him. But then his fingers were twining in the hair at the back of her head, demanding more, and she gave herself up to him. Lord, he had a way of kissing her that melted her from her tingling scalp to her tingling toes. Thoroughly, the way he did everything. When his kiss ended, she rested her head on his chest, fighting the feelings he evoked in her.

  What if it all boiled down to the fact that he was so blinded by their love that he wasn’t facing their problems? What if he woke up one day and wondered what the hell he was doing living in this madhouse? Tears slipped from beneath her closed eyelids.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered, wiping them away. “Don’t cry.”

  She wanted to believe him.

  She lay in his arms, trying to be practical, trying to be sensible, trying to be responsible. He made it so damned hard! Suddenly she froze, pulled away and stared at him in dawning shock.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You’re not fighting fair.” She clenched her hands in her lap.

  “Why?”

  “Because you act like you know what you’re doing. You act like you’re walking into this with your eyes wide open, and they aren’t. They can’t be. You’ll—you’ll end up hating me, and the kids, and—”

  “Don’t you dare say that.”

  “Jeff, tell me honestly, what would you do with a checkbook that never balances because I forget to make deposits, and forget to record checks and... well, what would you do?”

  “I would find it so damned unbearable that I would probably refuse to touch the damned thing.”

  “You see. It would never work.”

  “If you think I’m going to put myself through that kind of a wringer every month, not to mention alienating Peter by usurping his job, you’ve got another think coming.”

  “But you’ve been trying to get your hands on my checkbook ever since that first day!”

  “I know what I said. I also know that Peter treats that checkbook like a game. He takes great pride in the fact that no matter what you do to it, he unscrambles it.”

  “I know that, but I never figured you’d understand.”

  “Cecil, I understand so much more than you think I do. In the first place, stop protecting me, if that’s what you think you’re doing. I’ve protected myself too damn well for too damned long. I need a little shaking up now and again.”

  “And that’s what I’m good for? Shaking you up?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. “And what happens when things get too shaky around here? What about when—”

  “You’re giving me a headache.” He sighed. “Cecil, go outside on the front porch and sit and swing and argue with yourself. I don’t have the energy for it. And when—” he yawned “—when you come to the amazing conclusion that you love me too much, need me too much to let me get away again, come wake me up and tell me.”

  He rolled away from her as though that settled everything.

  “You arrogant— And what if I don’t come to that amazing conclusion?”

  “You will.” His voice was muffled, but unmistakably determined.

  “You—you deserve—you deserve to have a house full of chaos, you’re so damned cocky! And—and—” She glared at his back, even as she felt giddy relief flowing through her. “And stop picking up after me! I refuse to live with someone who makes me feel like a slob!”

  Slowly, the bed springs squeaking, he rolled back to face her. “Did I understand you correctly?”

  “It’s too late to back out of it. If you’re so damned determined to drive yourself crazy, then the hell with it. I can’t protect you forever.” She flung her hair out of her eyes and raised her chin. “I can’t keep refusing what I want and need more than anything else in the world just to save your blasted sanity if you won’t cooperate.”

  The door cracked open behind them but she didn’t care. “Yes, damn it. I’ll marry you.”

  Anne-Elizabeth’s piercing squeal split the air and her sneakers thundered away against the hardwood floor. “Brad! Peter! We’re gonna mawwy the jerk!”

  Jeff’s skin paled three shades as he clutched his head.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Maybe...maybe carpet would help,” he offered weakly.

  Cecilia closed the door firmly, locked it and crossed to the bed. “You’ll be sorry,” she warned.

  “Probably,” he agreed as she snuggled against him. He kissed her, and for a few enchanted moments, that was all she was aware of.

  “I’m afraid to trust this,” he muttered into her neck when he finally came up for a breath.

  “Trust... us?”

  “No. Of course not.” He kissed her again, his hand trailing up and down her side as if wanting to caress, yet being restrained. “I’m waiting for a child to burst in and interrupt us.” He nipped her ear. Not hard, but enough for her to shudder. “For a soccer ball to fly by.” His hand finally found a convenient spot to rest; his thumb dragged a seductive arc over the fullness of her breast. “For a set of teeth to close over my thigh.”

  His thigh being out of reach, Cecilia nuzzled his neck and with teeth and tongue explored the tightly corded muscles. His groan rumbled against her lips and a corresponding tremor trembled through her body. “I guess you’d better get used to it,” she said, sighing.

  “Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “I’m definitely developing a taste for chaos.”

  A hesitant knock sounded at the door.

  Cecilia straightened her blouse. “Come in,” she called.

  “I thought it was locked,” Jeff said as the doorknob rattled.

  “It’s an old lock. Brad can pick it,” she replied.

  “We’re getting a deadbolt.”

  “Whatever you say,” she said sweetly.

  The door opened and three heads appeared in the doorway. Brad and Ann-Elizabeth were grinning; Peter looked worried. Cecilia’s stomach lurched. They should have been more cautious. They should have prepared Peter, not hit him with the news so bluntly.

  Suddenly she remembered. “Peter, what were you doing with Jeff this afternoon?”

  Peter avoided her eyes, only looked at Jeff for all the world as if he were pleading for something. The softest smile curled Jeff’s lips. “I think it had something to do with my intentions. And since you’ve agreed to make an honest man of me, I think they’re strictly honorable.”

  Peter still stared at him. What was going on? He looked... scared.

  “I have only one reservation,” Jeff went on. “That damned bird.”

  “Oh, well,” Cecilia rushed in. “I’m sure we can find a good home for him if—”

  “Over my dead body.” Jeff’s tones were flat and no-nonsense. “If there’s room for Ralph, there’s room for my bird. There’s room for everybody,” he said succinctly. He watched Peter intently. There was something going on there, something she didn’t understand. “Peter, would you keep him upstairs... in your room?”

  Brad whooped with excitement, then hollered, “We got the bird!”

  Peter blinked rapidly, nodding. “You bet.” If Cecilia hadn’t known better, she would have sworn his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears as his relieved smile took shape. “You bet,” he repeated.

  “Then if everything’s settled, I think I’d better get some rest,” Jeff said soft
ly, and for once in their lives, the children took the hint.

  When they were alone again, Cecilia bent over Jeff and gently kissed his cheek. The events of the day had taken their toll. His gentle snore vibrated against her ear.

  She smoothed the sheet snugly around him. Standing, she stared down at his red argyle socks, folded and tucked carefully into his shoes, at the dusty toe of her polka-dot tights, peeking from beneath the bed.

  Oh, Lord.

  They were doomed.

  But blissfully so.

  About Pooks

  Award-winning screenwriter and novelist Patricia Burroughs (a.k.a. Pooks) loves dogs, books, movies, and football. A lifelong Anglophile, she treasures her frequent travels in the British Isles researching current science fiction/fantasy writing projects. She and her high school sweetheart husband are living happily ever after in their hometown of Dallas, Texas.

  patriciaburroughs.com

  Patricia at Book View Café

  Other Digital Books by Patricia Burroughs

  La Desperada

  Available at Book View Café

  Available at Amazon

  With her husband dead and his brother trying to kill her, Elizabeth Dougherty breaks into the jail and holds a cold-blooded murderer at gunpoint, promising to release him if he’ll agree to her terms. “Take me with you.”

  But when Boone Coulter grudgingly agrees, he has no idea that her would-be killer is the sheriff — an enemy from his past who now wants them both dead.

  Set in the Texas and New Mexico of Billy the Kid, their passionate tale of love and sacrifice becomes the stuff of legend…

  The legend of “La Desperada.”

  Originally titled What Wild Ecstasy [Kensington Books], this tale inspired the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences/Nicholl Award-winning screenplay, “Redemption.”

  Some Enchanted Season