The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield

by Ninya Tippett

  His tongue teased at the seam of my lips, coaxing for entrance and gaining it with barely any resistance from me. My hand found its way to the nape of his neck, my fingers raking through his hair as our kiss fused into shared gasps and moans.

  "Who's going to make every conscious thought vanish," he said as we pulled away for a fraction of a second to drag in more air. "Who's going to make you senseless with want, boneless with desire."

  I shivered as his hot, demanding mouth reclaimed mine, his hand sliding down to cup my breast, his thumb kneading intently on the hardened tip straining against the confines of my bra.

  Tormented by a sudden ache that tightened my every nerve ending, I gasped out his name and let my head roll back, arching to his touch as he leaned close and anchored his mouth on my neck.

  "Well, I guess that tells me everything I need to know."

  The amused statement cut through the thick fog of my lust and snapped me back to reality with the effectiveness of an ice-cold bath.

  My eyes widened as it focused on the open door of the car that revealed us to an awaiting audience of four people—Martin and his other three children with his late wife Evelyn.

  "Close your eyes, Mattie!" the shrill voice of the eldest sister, Anna, broke through my shock and horror as I watched her wrap a hand over the glasses of the youngest Maxfield sibling, probaby nine or ten, who stood in front of her on the front steps.

  "I can't believe you brought her here, Brandon!" Anna continued on acidly, glaring at her older brother who was still straddled under me, his hands resting on my hips.

  I glanced down at him in stupefied speechlessness and found him smiling up at me, his hazel eyes bright with good humor and his kiss-swollen lips curved into a lazy smile. Realizing our position, I jumped off his lap and scrambled into a corner of the backseat behind Brandon as if to protect myself from his family.

  "Of course, I brought her here, Anna," Brandon said as he straightened up and grabbed me by the wrist. "She's your future sister-in-law. There's no better time for you to get to know her than today."

  Oh, God. He has no idea. Absolutely none!

  "But we already know her, Brand," Tessa, the more soft-spoken sister, a year younger than Anna, said as her brown eyes gazed back at me. "She went to high school with us."

  Brandon didn't seem surprised as he slid out of the car and held the car door open for me. "Yes, same school but I doubt that your class mingled with the working students, Tess, which is why you probably don't know Charlotte very well."

  "If they did, I'd have fewer problems," Martin muttered under his breath as he stepped forward and extended a hand to me, smiling broadly. "Hello, Charlotte. Missed me?"

  The old man's eyes were sky-blue and kind and my initial horror quickly disappeared.

  This was Martin, after all. He knew in the years we've known each other that I was part of the working-student program at his daughters' high school. I worked at the library and cafeteria and attended a lot of the night and weekend classes. He never once looked down on me for it.

  Guilt flooded through me at the reminder of the deception Brandon and I were pulling in front of his family but the happy expression on Martin's face told me he wasn't complaining about what he was seeing. In fact, he looked younger and healthier, as if his optimistic mood had been therapeutic. He didn't even seem to mind that he'd just opened the door to find me mauling his eldest son in the back seat of the town car.

  "Hi, Martin. Good to see you again," I said shyly as I took his hand and eased out of the car, trying as subtly as I could to straighten my dress as Brandon reached out to brush my hair down and tuck a stray lock behind my ear. The intimate gesture alarmed me that I swatted his hand before I could think better of it and he retaliated with a rakish grin and a pinch of my nose.

  Martin, having seen the exchange, laughed out loud and pulled me in for a quick hug. "It is good to see you, Charlotte, especially here with my son and his ring on your finger."

  My heart plummeted into my stomach but Brandon smoothly wrapped an arm behind my waist and pulled me to his side, the gesture oddly reassuring when it was simply another embellishment to our act. "I couldn't let her get away. She didn't make it easy on me but I quickly convinced her."

  He gave me a meaningful but teasing look and I flushed. "Yes, well. When Brandon has his mind set on something, nothing can stop him. It was a little overwhelming at first but I like a decisive guy."

  Martin beamed at us. "I'm glad to hear that. You know I welcome you to my family like one of my own, Charlotte, but in case you haven't had any proper introductions to them, these are my daughters, Anna and Tessa, and my youngest son, Matthew. Children, this is Charlotte Samuels—a good friend of mine and your brother's fiancee."

  "Can I look at her now?" Matt blurted out, still trying to pry off Anna's hands from his eyes. "She's not kissing Brand anymore, is she? They need to come up for air."

  Brandon chuckled and clapped his baby brother's shoulder, effectively tearing him away from Anna's constrictive grip so he could take off his glasses and wipe at them with the edge of his shirt. "It's all good, Mattie. You should meet Charlotte."

  I smiled at the young boy who was gazing up at me through the thick lens of his glasses with wide blue eyes the same color as Martin's. Matthew was almost cherubic with the floppy, dark blond hair which was probably Martin's original hair color before it turned silver, and possessed none of his older brother's dark and stark, masculine beauty.

  "Hello, Matthew," I said to him as I extended my hand. He tentatively took it and returned my handshake. "It's nice to meet you. How's the music-writing going? Any new compositions?"

  Surprise registered on the boy's face before it broke into a shy grin. "You know I write music?"

  "Of course," I said with a nod. "Martin and I are old friends. He told me how talented you are with the piano. Brandon told me the same thing. I look forward to hearing you play."

  Brandon's hand on my waist gave a slight squeeze and I glanced up at him and found him smiling softly at me. He'd never mentioned his brother to me but I could tell he wouldn't have disagreed with what I said.

  "Okay," Matthew said, a blush pinkening his cheeks. "I can play for you if you want to listen later. And you can call me Mattie. My family does."

  "She's not family," Anna hissed.

  "She will be in a less than two weeks," Brandon said in a firm voice. "I expect you and Tessa to treat her like she's one of us. With all your expensive schooling, I imagine you won't have any trouble being polite and well-mannered."

  I felt Anna's glare burn a hole through me.

  I'd known that I was going to eventually run into the sisters when I married Brandon but it didn't concern me so much until I was face to face with them today. We never had any quarrel between us but I failed to remember just how the Maxfield sisters were above reproach in the entire time I knew of them.

  Anna Maxfield was Worthington Prep's queen bee during high school. She was beautiful and statuesque with long, light brown hair and Martin's cornflower blue eyes. With her wealth and social status added on top of her natural beauty and grace, she was easily the most popular girl that all the boys wanted to date and all the girls wanted to copy.

  She was smart and confident and often played nice with everyone but her friends were an entirely different story. Her pals often poked fun at the other kids—the unpopular, the awkward, the misfits and the poor.

  I'd stayed out of their radar for the first couple of years but one time, Bessy, one of her bitchiest friends, decided she wasn't happy with the me talking to one of the school jocks I was helping find a book in the library. She started talking about me out loud around a group of people who were snickering and cheering her on. I was provoked but did my best to ignore her until she started talking about the mother who abandoned me when I was six and my Dad's drinking problem. I quickly decided I had enough.

  I grabbed a hulking hardbound dicitionary, spread it open to the page where the word
'bitch' was defined and laid it flat on the table in front of her and her captive audience, saying, "It says it's a female dog. Since I don't see you on four legs and paws, I'm assuming it's either your face or the other meaning which isn't in this dictionary. If you're not, then stop acting like one."

  I walked out with my head high but inside I was kicking myself mentally for letting Bessy take me down to her level and potentially risking my scholarship. To my surprise, nothing ever came of it except for Bessy never messing with me again although she still gave me the usual evil eye and the other kids in school giving me wide berth whenever I was around.

  Anna and I never clashed but with her friendship to Bessy and all the nasty possibilities for my motives in marrying her brother, I understood her reaction. I understood, alright, but it didn't mean I was just going to hang my head low and let her bully me around.

  "We'll do our best, Brand," Tessa said quietly, her light brown eyes giving nothing away as they bore into me. She was a contrast to her sister—timid and reserved—but she escaped criticism because Anna was very open about being protective of Tessa. We were the same age but we had never spoken to each other once in the years we spent at the same school.

  "Alright kids, now that we've all agreed to play nice, let's head inside and start brunch," Martin announced as he led the troop of Maxfields inside the palatial house.

  With Brandon's clasp on my waist, we lagged behind the rest of them.

  "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Brandon murmured to me. "Dad looks ecstatic and my brother already adores you."

  I grimaced. "Your sisters don't. I shouldn't have taken for granted the fact that they knew where I came from. In most people's minds, nothing changes after high school."

  "They'll come around," he said nonchalantly.

  "Or they could go digging into our whirlwind courtship and find out the truth," I retorted with a small groan as we walked up the large, airy hallway. "They won't buy the whole Cinderella-story crap. They know me and they know you even better. They won't understand why you would marry me."

  He glanced down at me with a smirk, his eyes dark with meaning. "I think after seeing us earlier in the backseat like that, they can figure out one or two reasons why we're rushing to get married."

  "Brandon! That was a lapse of judgement on my part and a cheap trick on yours," I hissed at him under my breath, elbowing him on the side as my face flamed in embarrassment at the reminder of our appallingly steamy make-out session in the back of his car.

  I struggled not to remember the feel and taste of his mouth, of his relentless hands all over me, of the fire that replaced the blood in my veins—and failed utterly when he leaned close and laughed softly against my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin on it. "You can have a lapse of judgement with me anytime, baby."

  "Not in this lifetime," I ground out, hoping that he was getting the full impact of my glare. "I didn't even like it."

  Thorougly amused, he suddenly hooked his arm around my waist and lifted me up against his chest which was vibrating with laughter as I let out a shriek before I could think better of it.

  "Everything okay?" Martin's statement sounded puzzled but amused.

  Brandon swung me to the side to grin at his father and siblings who'd halted in the long march to wherever the breakfast nook was and nodded in reassurance. "Yeah, yeah. I'm just settling an argument with my fiancee. Go on ahead of us."

  "Brandon, put me down," I murmured against his neck where I'd buried my face in mortification. "This is a bit excessive, don't you think?"

  His face turned to me, a mere inch or two away from mine, our conversation hidden behind the curtain of my hair. "I'll put you down if you admit that you liked it. You're not a very good liar, Charlotte."

  I glowered at him. "Really? After all that practice you've given me?"

  He ignored that comment. "Admit it. You enjoyed every bit of that kiss."

  I bit my lip. "I will admit to nothing. Why do you care anyway? You need an ego boost that badly?"

  "No. I just want to know that you're not unaffected by it," he said with a smug smile. "Because if it didn't move you, it's a matter of pride that I rectify the situation by kissing you again."

  The look on his face told me that he meant it.

  "Damn you, Brandon Maxfield," I muttered, pummeling his shoulder weakly with my fist. "Alright, I admit it. I liked it. Happy now?"

  "Good enough," he said before suddenly pulling me down for a quick but passionate kiss and promptly releasing me back on my feet right after.

  I was oddly annoyed and thrilled at the same time and I didn't really wish to explain it to anyone.

  Good thing that when I turned back around to face Brandon's family, the hallway was empty except for the two of us.

  As Brandon took my hand and led me forward to continue our journey to wherever in this enormous mansion the brunch was taking place, I briefly wondered that if his family hadn't been there as our audience, for whose benefit was that last kiss intended?

  ******

  Brunch was actually a pretty fun affair if I didn't count the number of snide remarks Anna threw my way before Martin finally gave her a stern, iron-clad warning to shove it.

  I surprised myself by not flinging any cheeky response back at her but I was in a good mood, having a good meal and a semblance of a family I haven't experienced in years. I just couldn't be bothered to even worry about her.

  Tessa was more civil than her sister but too quiet to even really voice out anything, much less criticize me. Martin was full of stories and jokes and Mattie was witty and adorable. Even Brandon was relaxed, his expression open, and his smiles easy and plenty that I almost forgot the whole ploy we were running here.

  Martin asked general questions about our meeting and nearly-instantaneous decision to marry. Brandon mostly started the answers and I added on to them a bit. I worried that our answers were too generic but it didn't seem to bother the old man. He was mildly surprised that the wedding was less than two weeks away but Brandon just smiled smugly and put an arm around my shoulders, saying, "I found what I want and I'm keeping it. Waiting is pointless."

  Martin just smiled and grunted some kind of agreement with his son.

  After our meal, the sisters insisted that Brandon sit out on the covered patio with them to catch up while Mattie sweetly asked if I wanted to go up to his music room and listen to him play.

  "You go on upstairs and get your piece ready, Matt, and Charlotte and I will be right behind you," Martin said, looping my arm through his as we got up from the table.

  I cast Brandon a nervous glance but he just smiled at me and gave me a tight nod before following his sisters to the patio.

  What is this? Divide and conquer?

  "My son tarries little which has always served him well but I hope that he didn't push you too hard on this," Martin said without preliminaries as soon as we were out of earshot. "I would've liked to have seen a long enough engagement but if this is what you both want, I have no problem with it."

  Martin must've been hoping for some time for me and Brandon to naturally come to the conclusion he wanted. I couldn't tell him that Brandon just wanted this whole marriage to be done and over with as quickly as possible because the sooner we married, the sooner we could divorce.

  My heart squeezed with guilt.

  "It's hard to explain how this all went so fast but it's happening and I'm going to let it," I told Martin, my words as close to the truth as I could get them.

  Martin glanced at me with a warm smile, his eyes glinting with a knowing light. "Brandon has always had a way with women so I'm not surprised at how quickly he got you to agree to this. Knowing you though, I'm certain you're not leaving him completely in charge which is a good thing."

  "Oh, trust me," I told him with a laugh. "The constant battle for the upper-hand definitely keeps things interesting."

  The old man chuckled. "I'm glad. Brandon can be very domineering when he wants things done. He needs someon
e who can stand up to him and turn his world on its ear every now and then."

  I rolled my eyes. "Aren't you worried about him turning my world on its ear?"

  He grinned. "I'm sure he's going to give it as good as he gets. Brandon will be a handful for a husband but he'll be generous and good to you. It's about time you enjoy life a little, Charlotte, and let someone take care of you this time around."

  My heart swelled with affection for the old man as I realized that maybe he formulated this idea in an attempt to help both me and his son at the same time—together.

  I wasn't sure why he'd go as far as blackmailing Brandon to accomplish it but whatever the details of his reason were, I couldn't resent him for it. If this made him happy, then it would be worth it, with or without the money.

  "I don't have very much left in this life, Charlotte," he said as if somehow sensing the train of my thoughts. "I would like to see the people I love and care about happy and settled before I go."

  My hand tightened its grip on his arm. "Martin, don't talk like that. You're not dying."

  He sighed, his smile wistful. "We're all dying. It's just a matter of when we do. They key is to live as much as we can and love as hard as we're able to before the time comes. It's something I want my children to know and keep in mind when I'm no longer here to remind them of it."

  I felt the sting of tears but I quickly blinked them back and forced a smile out for him. "You're a good Dad, Martin. Your children are lucky to have you."

  He patted my hand on his arm. "Well, you're to be counted among them pretty soon. I'm really happy you're marrying my son, Charlotte. I believe one day you'll realize the wisdom of your decision."

  I doubt it but if you say so.

  When I first met Martin five years ago, I wasn't in a good place in my life. I was just trying to get from one day to the next, going through the motions of life when I was merely just surviving. He first got my attention when he got me fully participating in a debate with him about a newspaper article he'd been reading. Since then, every time he was in Marlow's, he'd ask me to sit down with him for a few minutes and we'd talk about anything, and little by little, he'd coax me back out to the light. Bobby never called me out about it and until this day, I never asked if it was because no one got in Martin Maxfield's way or if it was because Bobby knew as well as anyone who saw me grow up that the old man was as close to a real father as I could get.