"Are you sure it was Sam's idea?” Barbi asked.
To this, Hadleigh cocked a sarcastic eyebrow. “What do you think? Although putting the chair beneath the doorknob—"
"They put a chair beneath the doorknob?” Doreen squeaked. “Hadleigh, they're four years old!"
"I know, I know. Treet takes Caroline on the set with him, so he thinks she might have gotten the idea from—"
"Behind Closed Doors!” Karen finished with a girlish squeal. “I loved that movie.” With characteristic energy, Karen popped to her feet. “I think we all need another drink!"
"Count me in."
"Me too. Hadleigh?"
Hadleigh shook her head. She already had a slight headache from the first one. The doorbell rang before Karen made it to the kitchen bar.
"I'll get it!” she called over her shoulder, her tone puzzled. “Did someone order a pizza?"
"Not me."
"Me either."
They grew quiet, listening as Karen opened the door. Hadleigh couldn't think of a single soul it could be. All her friends were here, and Treet knew she was entertaining tonight.
"Hadleigh...?"
At Karen's surprised exclamation, Hadleigh rose from the chair and went to the door. Her brow rose in question on seeing the stranger. He was young, perhaps in his late teens.
"Hadleigh Charmaine?"
Hadleigh unconsciously clutched her throat. “That's me."
"I've got a special delivery for you.” Smiling, he held out a beautiful red rose, its petals sparkling with dew drops. When she automatically took it, he said, “No need to tip—Mr. Miller took care of that.” With a quick salute, he turned and headed for the elevator across the hall.
So the mystery was solved, Hadleigh mused, shutting the door.
"There's a note,” Karen said. She unraveled the slip of paper from the stem of the rose and handed it to Hadleigh.
Conscious of her friends’ watching her, Hadleigh silently read the note. ‘To my closet buddy.' She smiled at the corny note. It was just like Treet to take a romantic gesture and twist it into something cute and corny.
Suddenly, Hadleigh realized the room had gone completely silent. She looked up, glancing from one to the other, easily reading their expressions. Barbi looked expectant; Doreen looked both envious and resigned.
Karen, as usual, made no bones about voicing her opinion. “Romantic, but suspect. Why would he send you a single rose when he could afford dozens?"
As if she'd pulled the stopper, everyone began talking at once. Hadleigh remained silent; she knew she wouldn't be heard anyway. Slowly, she brought the beautiful flower to her nose and inhaled the rich, sweet scent, closing her eyes. As Karen had pointed out, Treet could have sent a dozen—or even five dozen roses—but he had somehow known she would appreciate the simple gesture of one single rose.
Doreen, Barbi, and Karen continued their heated conversation as if she wasn't in the room.
"Maybe he's on the up and up,” Doreen surprised everyone by saying. “Maybe Hadleigh's right. Maybe we're all judging him too quickly."
"Ha! Now who's got stars in their eyes?” Karen demanded triumphantly. The others had given her a hard time over her breathless reaction to meeting Treet Miller in the flesh.
"Hey! I'm not the one who owns all his movies,” Doreen retaliated. “Believe me, I'm not star-struck over that ruthless—"
"And you, Barbi!” Karen interrupted. “Still got that poster of him on your office wall?"
"That was a freebee,” Barbi snapped, red-faced with embarrassment.
"Wait!” Hadleigh shouted the word. Shocked, they fell silent. Fighting to keep her voice level, Hadleigh said, “I think you've all forgotten that you're talking about Samantha's father.” She angled her chin out. “And you've all forgotten that I'm a grown woman and this is my life.” When Barbi would have spoken, Hadleigh quickly held up a stalling hand. “I'm not finished. Now, I know you all are concerned for my well being—and that of Samantha—but you're carrying this too far. Ultimately, it will be my decision whether Sam and I continue to see Treet and Caroline."
"I think it's a bad idea,” Barbi stated.
"Me too.” As if to strengthen their decision, Karen went to stand beside Barbi. They both looked expectantly at Doreen.
Doreen shrugged, then sighed. “To tell the truth, I don't know what I believe. I've never met the guy.” Her voice softened as she continued. “I do know that I hate to see you get hurt, Hadleigh. Just be careful."
"Yeah,” Barbi muttered, “Be careful. This guy packs a punch with the ladies.” She slanted a mischievous glance at Karen, breaking the tension with her teasing remark. “Just ask Karen if you don't believe me."
"Go to hell, Barbi,” Karen growled. “I can't wait to see your reaction when you meet him!"
But Hadleigh didn't have to be told; she knew firsthand what a punch Treet packed with the ladies. She'd fast discovered she was no exception to the rule.
And this is what bothered her.
Was she just another over-zealous fan? Like other women, she'd day-dreamed about Treet Miller, fantasized about what it would be like to have those famous baby blues spotlighted on her, to feel that sensuous, beautiful mouth moving against her own.
But she'd never dreamed it would actually happen.
Having her best friends openly drooling over him didn't help matters. She hadn't known she was the jealous type until recently ... with Treet. If she was jealous of her friends, how would she react when she and Treet were in a crowd of beautiful women? Better yet, how could she hope to compete?
And just what the hell was she thinking? She'd made it clear to Treet they could be nothing more than friends. She had no business fantasizing about a relationship with Treet Miller, no matter how convincing and charming he was. Chances are she'd never make a public appearance with Treet, so her worries were groundless.
In fact, the entire conversation they were having was a ridiculous waste of energy. She and Treet had a mutual bond through their daughters, nothing more and nothing less. She would not—could not—let it go beyond that.
"You don't have to worry, girls.” She said the words softly, but with great determination. And she got their attention quicker than if she had shouted. “I'm not going to get involved with Treet Miller on a personal level. I've already decided, so you see, your worries are groundless."
"So you admit that it would be a mistake."
Hadleigh bit back an exasperated snarl at Karen's taunt. “No, I don't. It's just something I've decided on my own," she emphasized. “Treet and I are from different worlds. I wouldn't be comfortable in his, and he wouldn't be comfortable in mine.” She would have elaborated, but the doorbell interrupted her.
She went to answer it, fully expecting another corny delivery from the crazy movie star.
What she wasn't expecting when she opened the door was to find Treet lounging against the frame, wearing faded, button-fly jeans and a tee-shirt that had seen better days. A shadowed jaw added to his dangerous, disreputable appearance.
He was the ultimate fantasy man; gorgeous, sexy, sinful, and wholly male.
Her stunned gaze traveled from his lazy smile to the boxes he held in one hand, and the six pack of beer he held in the other.
"Mind if I crash the party? I brought pizza and beer. Hope you like Canadian bacon and mushroom. Oh, and I brought a deck of cards."
He brushed past her before Hadleigh could respond. Slowly she turned to follow his dynamic progress into the room, belatedly remembering that she wasn't alone.
Dammit.
"Ah, these must be Sam's ‘aunts',” Treet drawled, flashing his bone-melting smile in the direction of the open-mouthed women. His gaze lingered on Karen's pale face. One brow rose in recognition. “Karen, isn't it? We met in the hospital cafeteria."
Karen's mouth closed, then opened again as if she were trying to speak and couldn't. Her eyes drifted backward, and to the utter amazement of the others, she began to slump to the floor.
> Doreen instinctively leaped to catch her before she hit the carpet, her training as a paramedic kicking in. Barbi remained rooted in place, her gaze glued to Treet, seemingly oblivious to Karen's reaction.
Treet turned, casting Hadleigh a sheepish, endearing look that sent a tell-tale weakness to her knees. “Guess I should have called first."
Hadleigh folded her arms and glowered at him.
* * * *
Three hours later, Treet allowed Hadleigh to push him in the direction of the front door. He was pleased as punch when the other women protested his leaving.
"It's still early, and I've got a good hand for once!” Doreen complained in a disgusted voice. She pitched her cards onto the table and leaned back in her chair, a fierce scowl on her face.
Barbi covered a yawn. “I, for one, have to get up in the morning, so I should be going, too.” She glanced at Karen, who was busy counting her substantial stack of quarters. Karen had been on a winning streak the past hour and was obviously quite proud of herself. “Can you give me a ride, oh great one?"
"I'd be delighted,” Karen said without glancing up from her task. She had finally recovered from the shock of seeing Treet again, and now seemed hardly aware of his presence.
He took that as a very good sign.
At the door, Treet turned to Hadleigh. She looked flushed, with a peculiar sparkle in her eyes he couldn't decipher. He fought the urge to steal a kiss from that soft, provocative mouth, reminding himself that now was not the time and place. “I had a good time,” he said, keeping his voice low. It was the truth—he'd had a great time, especially after they'd all figured out he was just an ordinary guy.
The best part was spending time with Hadleigh, watching her trying to be subtle about watching him, sneaking winks and playing footsies beneath the table while the others were preoccupied with their cards. Her friends were great, too, each unique in her own way.
"Yeah, you were a real hit with the ladies,” Hadleigh said without enthusiasm.
His brow rose at the bite in her voice. “Jealous?"
She snorted. “Hardly. Need I remind you that you were not invited? I specifically said “girls’ night", and you are definitely not a girl."
"Thanks for noticing.” He grinned when she blushed. “Sorry about crashing the party. I couldn't help myself."
"Are you always this impulsive?"
Treet gave it some thought, studying her flushed face intently. Finally he shook his head. “Not usually this impulsive. I think I have you to thank for that."
"I'm sure Brutal doesn't consider it an asset,” she said dryly. She reached around him and opened the door, her lips pursed in a determined line. “Good night, Treet."
"Good night, Hadleigh.” Quickly, he leaned forward and brushed his mouth lightly across those pretty,, pursed lips, confident the others couldn't see him. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered in her ear.
She gave him a push and closed the door firmly behind him.
"Man, you got it bad, and I mean bad, boss."
Treet turned to find Brutal watching him with something akin to pity. He scowled at the bodyguard. “I like her, Brutal. There's a vast difference between like and love."
"Sure, man. Sure."
The elevator doors slid open. Brutal glanced inside before motioning for Treet to enter. As the elevator began to descend, the bodyguard resumed his lecture.
"You really think those women are gonna keep quiet about this?"
"They're Hadleigh's friends,” Treet reminded him patiently. “Yes, I think they'll keep quiet, and what if they don't? Fame has its price. I knew that when I went into acting."
"Everything has a price, boss."
Treet slanted him a suspicious look. “What's that supposed to mean?"
Brutal shrugged. “Just that you might find yourself paying a high price for being ... friends with this woman."
"This woman is Caroline's mother. And she hardly tolerates me.” Something he hoped to change in the near future.
The bodyguard laughed outright. “Man, you are living in a fantasy world. Maybe you should take a vacation."
"As a matter of fact, I planned to do just that. I'm taking the girls and Hadleigh to Montana for a few weeks."
"The hell you are."
"The hell I am."
"Todd ain't gonna like this,” Brutal growled.
"My agent will get over it."
"I'm goin’ with you."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eleven
"I found some Dramamine in the med kit."
Hadleigh took the pill and the bottled water from Treet, her worried gaze on Samantha, who was looking greener by the minute. “I don't get it. She's flown before and she didn't get air sick."
They were in the ‘head’ of the plane, as Treet called it, with Samantha clutching the compact toilet as if her life depended on it. Beneath her supporting arm, Hadleigh could feel Sam's little belly spasm pitifully each time she retched into the commode. When the spell had passed, Hadleigh halved the pill and urged Samantha to wash it down with a sip of water.
Sam listlessly obeyed—a sure sign she was sick. “I don't feel good, Mommy."
"I know, sweetheart.” Her heart aching, Hadleigh smoothed Sam's damp brow. “But the medicine will help.” She glanced at Treet, noticing that he looked a little pale as well. Behind him in the narrow doorway, Caroline watched the scene. It was easy to read the confusion and fear in her large, solemn eyes.
"The medicine might make her sleepy,” Treet said, reaching out as if to touch Sam's head. He drew back with a sigh, curling his arm around Caroline's shoulders and drawing her against him for a reassuring hug.
"Anything has to be better than this.” Hadleigh wet a cloth and wiped Sam's face. Finally, after about five minutes with no further retching, Hadleigh asked, “Do you feel well enough to leave the bathroom, sweetie?” When Samantha nodded, Hadleigh gathered her up and headed in the direction of the luxurious cabin of the plane.
The private jet hit an air pocket, causing her to stumble. Treet was there in a flash, steadying her with his firm hands at her waist. “Do you think we should take her to a hospital?"
He sounded anxious, and so serious Hadleigh couldn't resist a smile. “No, she's just air sick. The Dramamine should help."
Caroline tugged at Hadleigh's elbow. “What's wrong with Sam? Is she going to die?"
Stifling a laugh, Hadleigh struggled to keep a straight face. If Sam didn't get well soon, she suspected she'd have an all out panic on her hands. “No, darling. She's not going to die. She's just going to sleep a little while; then she'll feel all better."
"Then she can play with me?"
Hadleigh's heart turned over at the sight of Caroline's earnest, worried face. “Then she can play with you,” she agreed.
Sam stirred in her arms. Her eyelids had begun to droop, and her eyes had taken on a glassy sheen. “I threw up on his plane."
"I know, sweetie. He doesn't mind."
"I made a big mess."
"Trudy cleaned it up,” Hadleigh assured her.
"Trudy's nice,” Sam mumbled, finally giving up the fight to stay awake.
With Samantha in her arms, Hadleigh sank onto the plush couch and let out a shaky sigh. She hated to see her baby sick, and thanked God Sam seldom was.
Treet sat on the couch opposite her. Caroline, with her gaze locked on Samantha's flushed, sleeping face, climbed into her daddy's lap and buried her cheek against his shoulder.
Hadleigh watched as Caroline struggled not to follow Sam's footsteps into la la land. Her long curly lashes drifted shut, then snapped open, over and over again, making Hadleigh smile. Finally, her little body went lax against Treet. He automatically tightened his hold.
"She asleep?” he whispered above Caroline's head.
Hadleigh nodded, not trusting herself to speak around the sudden lump in her throat.
"Wanna switch? I hate to waste an
opportunity like this."
"Okay.” Yep, her voice was noticeably husky. She gently laid Samantha along the sofa beside her as Treet rose with his burden. He placed Caroline on her lap, and then scooped Samantha into his arms, returning to the couch.
When they were both settled again, Hadleigh gazed down at Caroline. “She's lighter than Samantha."
"Yeah, I noticed that. Must be all that salad she eats."
"I can't get Samantha to touch anything green."
"I noticed that, too."
Without realizing it, they were both speaking barely above a whisper. Hadleigh softly traced the shape of Caroline's ear. “How much did Sam weigh when she was born?"
"Seven pounds. How about Caroline?"
"Seven pounds, twelve ounces. Felt more like ten pounds, thirteen ounces,” Hadleigh added with a rueful chuckle.
"By the way, Brutal found Bo Bo."
Her head jerked up. “The turtle?"
"You know another Bo Bo?” he teased. “Brutal took him with him to the ranch."
"Sam will be tickled to finally get to meet him.” She grimaced. “After two visits to Caroline's petting zoo, I'll be lucky to get her to settle for a gerbil."
"Do you think Cheyenne made the switch?"
The unexpected question startled Hadleigh. She glanced up, catching a flash of pain in Treet's eyes before he masked it. She wet her lips, hesitating to voice something she couldn't prove.
"Just your opinion, ma'am,” he drawled, apparently sensing her hesitation. “You aren't under oath."
He was smiling, but Hadleigh noted the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “The thought crossed my mind when I found out—” Her alarmed gaze skipped from one sleeping child to the other; she'd learned the hard way not to underestimate Samantha. She relaxed when she heard the faint sound of Sam snoring. “She—she had said she was going to make sure you didn't get the baby.” Taking a deep breath, Hadleigh shifted Caroline in her arms to get a more secure grip. “She claimed you were threatening to take the baby from her, that you tricked her into getting pregnant."
Moments ticked by, and with each of them, Hadleigh's tension grew. She waited for him to deny it. She prayed that he would and feared that he wouldn't. And why should he? He wasn't obligated to explain anything to her.
Those Baby Blues Page 11
