Desire Had A Name: The Bad Baker Boys: Matt's Story

by Tonya Brooks

  “I'll only be here for a few days, Matthew, but I'd like to talk to you when it's convenient.” Harley informed him cordially.

  “I'd say we have a lot to discuss.” Matt agreed shortly. “How about tonight?”

  The sooner the better, she thought with relief. “When and where?”

  “Meet me at my brother's place at nine thirty. The corner of Third and Elm.”

  Harley frowned at that. “Why so late?”

  “It's Jed's first night home and I'd like to spend some time with him,” he pointed out.

  Harley could understand that. “I'll see you then,” she agreed and walked over to hug Jed. “I love you, Sweetie.”

  “Love you too, Mom.” Jed grinned up at her.

  The two males walked to the edge of the bay and watched as she slid behind the wheel of the Jaguar and drove away. “When did she get a Jag?” Matt asked curiously. It suited her. The car was as sleek and elegant as its driver.

  “Donald gave it to her as an engagement present.”

  It was a hell of a present. Matt looked down at his son to suggest, “Tell me about him.”

  “He's a divorce lawyer,” the boy began and recounted everything he could remember about the man his mother was planning to marry as his father listened intently.

  Matt didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. Donald sounded like a decent man and the boy genuinely liked him, which only made matters worse. How the hell was he supposed to compete with a man who'd be able to spend more time with his son than he could? Dammit, he shouldn't have to compete with anyone. Jed was his son. He should be the one with him every day. He should be the one teaching him how to steer a boat. He should be the one sleeping with his mother.

  Whoa! Where the hell had that thought come from?

  Who was he trying to kid, Matt wondered grimly. That thought had never left his mind since the night he'd met her and he doubted it ever would. Dammit. He'd almost managed to convince himself that the desire he'd felt for Harley couldn't have been as intense as he'd remembered. That his all consuming need for her had merely been exaggerated over time. That it just wasn't possible for one woman to stir his blood to a fever pitch as no one else could.

  But he knew he'd been lying to himself all along. His aching body was evidence of that. The only woman he'd ever really wanted was back in his life again and with one look, she had reduced him to a quivering mass of raw testosterone. Just like she always had. Some things never changed, Matt realized in disgust.

  He still wanted her as much as he ever had, and as usual, Harley didn't give a damn about him. She still had another man in her life and she was planning to marry this one. Even after all this time, the thought of Harley with another man filled him with the all too familiar sensation of jealousy, and he resisted the urge to break something in half.

  Preferably the fiancé.

  ~~~~

  Harley pulled into the driveway lined with centuries old live oak trees draped in Spanish moss, their gnarled roots bulging out of the ground, the massive limbs struggling to remain upright under their own weight, and smiled because some things didn't change. The house looked exactly as she remembered it, right down to the tire swing hanging from a tree out front.

  It was a Greek-revival style antebellum home built in the eighteen hundreds by one of the three founding members of the town. It's most impressive feature was the twenty-four classic eight foot circular columns that surrounded it. The first and second floor verandas extended thirteen feet from the walls, providing shade to the interior for most of the day.

  The exterior doors and windows faced each other for added ventilation and the ceilings throughout were twelve feet high. The floors and fireplaces were made of Carerra marble and cool to the touch during even the hottest summer months and the punkah fans circulated the breeze coming off the river so efficiently that central air was rarely needed.

  Crisp white with glossy black double front doors, it was breathtakingly beautiful in sunlight and magical in the light of the moon. Each room boasted multiple sets of French doors with black exterior wooden shutters that could close out the threat of bad weather and a black wrought iron railing wrapped around the second floor gallery.

  The grounds were equally impressive with their array of native flora including palmetto trees, magnolias, and azaleas. The west side of the property featured a reflective pool and fountain set in the middle of the formal garden and beyond the intricately patterned wrought iron garden gate was the family cemetery.

  The east side contained the old carriage house and vegetable garden as well as ample parking for the entire family. Beyond a broad expanse of lawn at the rear of the house was an uninterrupted view of the river to the north, and the five men who lived there kept it all in pristine condition. How she loved this house and the grouchy old man who owned it.

  Jedidiah Baker was an old curmudgeon who did his best to hide a heart of gold under a gruff exterior, but Harley had seen through his guise and discovered that he was just a lovable growly bear. In his youth, Jedidiah had been in an elite Special Forces unit and he had gone places and done things that no man should ever have to endure or live with the memories of.

  At the age of twenty-seven, he had left the military and came to Lakeside to have a look at the house that a distant relative had left him. He was floored when he discovered it was a genuine antebellum mansion that had been in his family for generations. Jedidiah had never even met the woman, but as her only surviving heir, she had left him the home and acreage that sat atop a prominent point along the river. The house had fallen into disrepair over the years and with no plans for his immediate future and nothing better to do, he had moved in and began to renovate her room by room.

  The people in town knew little about the handsome young man who appeared to be the last of his family’s line, except for the fact that he had been in the military, and that was only because of the insignia tattooed on his forearm. Jedidiah kept to himself and had little to do with the local residents until he met seventeen year old Virginia Lawson.

  Ginny was like no one he had ever encountered before. She was as innocent and trusting as a newborn babe and there was no guile in her. She set her sights on the handsome, mysterious newcomer and nothing could change her mind. Jedidiah refused to have anything to do with her. She was perfect and pure in her innocence and he was tormented with images from the past. He couldn't bear the thought of tainting her perfection with the demons that drove him.

  Ginny would have none of his excuses. She wanted him and she knew that Jedidiah felt the same about her, no matter what he said. So what if he was ten years her senior? Age didn't matter and neither did the fact that he refused to talk about his past. She was only interested in his future, with her. He couldn't believe someone so young and innocent could twist him into so many knots that he didn't know if he was coming or going.

  In spite of everything he'd been through, Jedidiah had been raised as a gentleman and there was no way he could take advantage of her innocence. She was a lady and he couldn't treat her as anything less. Giving up the fight, Jedidiah had gone to her father to ask for her hand in marriage and been told in no uncertain terms to stay away from Virginia. The Reverend Lawson also warned his daughter not to go near the older man again, not that it did a bit of good.

  One rainy afternoon, his Gigi, as he had called her, had taken matters into her own hands and seduced him. Jedidiah hadn't been strong enough to fight her and his own desire any longer and he had given in and made love to her. As luck would have it, her father caught them. Once again, Jedidiah offered to marry the girl, much to her delight and her father’s fury.

  The Reverend Lawson was a hell fire and brimstone Baptist preacher. He'd been livid over his daughter's fall from grace and flatly refused to let them get married. He'd had the younger man arrested for statutory rape and Jedidiah had sat in a jail cell for a week while Ginny was kept locked in her room.

  Judge Mason had pulled Jedidiah's service record and the par
ts of it that weren't classified assured him that the young man was a bona fide hero with an impressive list of commendations and a chest full of medals. He also knew that the good Reverend was a vindictive bastard and was certain that he was keeping the couple apart just to punish them. After he discovered her father was keeping Ginny a prisoner in their home, the judge dropped the charges, granted them a special license and married the happy couple himself.

  Word got around town about Jedidiah's military background and the stories of his supposed missions got more dangerous with each telling until they were almost as bad as the truth. Before he knew how it had happened, he had a reputation for being a badass as well as the respect and admiration of people he'd never even met. Except for his father-in-law's congregation.

  Rumors began to circulate that he was a murderer and seducer of innocent children on a par with the devil himself, according to the holier than thou crowd. Just to spite the Reverend, who had publicly disowned his daughter for her scandalous behavior; Jedidiah bought a liquor store and named it Wicked Spirits much to the town’s amusement, and had a highly successful business.

  He and Gigi shared ten wonderful years of love and laughter and she chased his demons away with her gentle touch. They had four boys, each of them two years apart, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Their names were chosen due to her gratitude to God for allowing her to marry the man of her dreams. Ginny was pregnant with their daughter when she fell down the stairs and broke her neck, losing the baby in the process. The fact that her death had been instantaneous was of no consolation to Jedidiah. He was inconsolable without his Gigi and lived in the bottom of a bottle for months, unable to come to terms with the loss of the woman he loved more than life itself.

  One morning he awoke on the floor at the base of the stairs where he had passed out the night before and finally came to his senses. Eight year old Matt was kneeling over him, pounding his fists on his father’s chest as he screamed hysterically, “Don't die, Pop! Please don't die and leave us, too.” Matt had been the one who had found his mother, and seeing Jedidiah lying in almost the same spot, his first reaction was that his father had died as well.

  Realizing that the boys were suffering as much as he was, Jedidiah pulled himself out of the torment of grief and dedicated himself to raising sons that his Gigi would have been proud of. The holier than thou crowd in town referred to them as the bad Baker boy's with good reason. They were all a little wild, but considering who their parents were, that much was to be expected.

  The Baker's were not the average family by any stretch of the imagination, but Harley loved them dearly for the most part, and tolerated the rest. Grabbing Jed's suitcase from the trunk, she stepped onto the herringbone patterned brick veranda with its massive columns that soared past the second floor gallery and felt as if she were coming home.

  This old house was what had inspired her passion for interior design. She'd love nothing better than to practice her skills on it and turn her back into the grand old lady that she had been created to be. For the first time ever, she rang the doorbell instead of just walking inside, and when he came to the door, she grinned and said, “Hello, Pop.”

  “Well, I'll be damned.” Jedidiah said in surprise and slid the pocket screen door open to lift her off of her feet in a fierce bear hug. Wiping tears of pure joy from his eyes, he picked up the suitcase and placed it inside. “You're a sight for sore eyes, Harley gal. Get on in the house, and what the hell’s wrong with you? Ya don't ring the bell in your own home.”

  “This hasn't been home in a long time,” she said as her eyes roved around the massive entrance hall that the family used as a living room, noticing that nothing had changed except the furniture. She was surprised to discover that he'd finally given in and replaced the worn out sofa and chairs with newer models. The room was seventy feet wide with a fifteen foot high ceiling and a floating horseshoe grand staircase that she had slid down the banisters of more times than she could remember.

  “It's been too long.” Jedidiah said seriously as he hugged her to his side in a paternal manner and led her into the kitchen. “Sit down and rest yourself while I fix us a glass of tea.”

  Harley wandered around the kitchen and shook her head because absolutely nothing had changed in here since he had refurbished it back in the seventies. It even looked like the same old curtains still hung in the windows. Jedidiah had kept everything exactly like his beloved Gigi had decorated it all those years ago.

  “How's your gout?” She asked as she went to the table and sat down.

  He scowled and placed two glasses of sweet tea on the table. “It's fine.” Jedidiah grumbled as he sat down across from her. “What I want to know is what finally made you decide to come home?”

  “I'm getting married,” she announced without preamble and saw the disappointment he didn't bother to hide.

  “Ya don't say?” Jedidiah replied as he looked at the engagement ring on her left hand. It was a large ring completely encrusted with diamonds and impressive as hell, but it looked more like a status symbol on her slender finger than a token of a man’s affection. “Who's the lucky man?”

  “His name is Donald Peter's.”

  “Tell me about him.” Jedidiah invited.

  “He's a successful attorney, forty-two, never been married,” she listed the highlights briefly. “And he adores Jed.”

  “You don't love him,” the older man stated flatly.

  “I do so,” she shot back indignantly.

  “You don't,” he assured her and shook his head in denial. “A woman in love doesn't list a man’s attributes. She talks about the way he makes her feel.”

  “Does not,” she denied stubbornly and toyed with the glass uncomfortably. He'd always been able to see right through her, dammit. Why should this time be any different?

  “And you don't desire him either,” he added for good measure.

  “Dammit, old man, don't tell me what I feel.” Harley growled as she stood up and walked over to the back door to look out at the impressive view of the river.

  “Don't have to,” he commented shrewdly. “You already know it. And don't swear, dammit.”

  She smiled at the familiar chastisement. “It might not be the kind of love you and Gigi had, but it’s as close as I've ever come to the real thing.” Harley said stubbornly as she turned to face him.

  “It won't work and you know it.”

  “What I know is that you were right when you said my son needs a man in his life on more than holidays.” She reminded him of the argument he'd used incessantly to try and keep her from running off to Florida. “Donald is steady and responsible and he'll be a good role model for Jed.”

  “And in a few more years when the boy is grown and gone, you're still gonna have to look at this man over the breakfast table,” he pointed out. “Your reasons are sound, Harley gal, but your reasoning is screwy.”

  Harley sat back down and covered his hand with hers. “I know you're just trying to help, Pop, but I'm going to marry Donald. He loves me and my son and he wants us to be a family.”

  “What about what you want?” Jedidiah asked seriously.

  “I want us to be a family, too.”

  “So Jed will have a father,” he clarified.

  “Exactly,” she readily agreed.

  He nodded sagely. “That's the same damn excuse you used when you married Matt and look how that turned out.”

  “Matthew didn't love me. He just wanted me in his bed.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Harley laughed bitterly. “I'd stake my life on it.”

  “You'd lose,” he assured her. “That boy was so crazy about you that it made him act like a fool.”

  “Right. Matthew loved me so much that he slept with every woman in town to prove it,” she reminded him sarcastically.

  “I said he acted like a fool.” Jedidiah scowled. “Frustration can do that, ya know.”

  “What I know is that this conversation is pointless,�
� she assured him wearily and took a sip of her tea.

  “Alright,” he agreed amiably, satisfied that he had made his point. “Now, tell me what really brought you back home.”

  “I need to talk to Matthew about a few things and I thought it would be better if I did it face to face,” she hedged.

  “Like what?”

  “Does it matter?” She asked, hopeful that he would let it go. She should have known better.

  “If it's important enough to bring you back to Lakeside after all this time, I'd say it matters a hell of a lot,” the family patriarch shrewdly deduced.

  “It does.” Harley reluctantly agreed. “You've got to promise me that you won't breathe a word to Matthew or anyone else, Pop. I'd prefer to tell him myself, and I sure as hell don't want everyone in town sticking their nose in my business again.”

  “I won't tell him,” he assured her.

  “I came back to get a divorce,” she admitted bluntly. “There's no record of our annulment ever being filed, so we're still legally married.”

  “Ya don't say.” Jedidiah breathed in awe, a huge grin covering his face as his fondest wish had just been granted.

  “Don't even think about it, old man,” she warned and knew exactly what he was thinking. Jedidiah had never liked the idea of them getting an annulment and had been highly vocal in his protestations, even after the fact. “I'm going to divorce Matthew so I can marry Donald and that's all there is to it.”

  “Now, don't do anything rash, Harley gal.” Jedidiah protested.

  “Rash?” She repeated as if he were unhinged. “Pop, we've been separated for twelve years.”

  “And that was the biggest damn mistake either one of you ever made,” he insisted. “You and Matt were getting along just fine after little Jed was born. I know you could have worked things out if you'd been willing to try.”