CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

In a matter of minutes he was in his car and on the road. He didn’t call until he had crossed Ben Sawyer Bridge. The phone was picked up before the second ring.

“Hello.”

Just hearing her voice made the restlessness cease and his heart to race. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“It’s after ten. Are you hungry?”

“Just for you.”

“Then hurry.”

Gray disconnected the phone with one hand. Minutes later he pulled up in front of Claire’s house. Before the engine died, she was out the door and running toward him. He had barely closed the door before she was in his arms, her mouth on his. The kiss was hot, erotic. He wanted to kiss her all over and start again.

“I’d hoped you’d come,” she said, staring up at him in the moonlight.

He couldn’t stay away. Even as the thought formed in his brain he was kissing her again. She was worth the risk and, for the time being, he was taking it.

Inside the bedroom, need driving him, he quickly undressed them both. He’d take his time the next time he loved her. Now he needed her satin heat, needed her arms and legs locked around him, driving him, beckoning him, answering him.

Their completion came together. He lay there as the haze of passion drifted away, leaving an odd feeling. He shifted to lie on his side and draw her into his arms and kissed her on the head when he heard the even sound of her breathing. She was asleep. He smiled. He’d have to wait for seconds, he thought, then realized what the feeling was. Peace. He didn’t try to fight it or rationalize it or deny it. He simply pulled the covers up over them and drifted off to sleep.

*   *   *

“Domino!” Brooke exclaimed, slapping her last domino on the card table set up in the small den of John’s parents’ house Sunday afternoon. “And give me fifteen.”

“We win again, Grandpa,” Mark exclaimed as he grinned up at Brooke, then wrote down the score. “That’s four to nothing.”

Mr. Randle grunted, then narrowed his gaze at Brooke, who sat across the table grinning at him. “It’s impolite to gloat.”

She laughed. “I know, but I can’t help it. We’re awesome.”

“Awesome,” Amy repeated, sitting in Brooke’s lap, and clapping her hands since she’d gotten rid of the sling a few days before.

“If you want, Grandpa, I’ll be on your side,” Mark said slowly, obviously torn between wanting to be with Brooke and feeling sorry for his grandfather.

“Hiram.” It was one word, but his gaze went to his wife sitting on the sofa next to John watching the baseball game

Mark’s grandfather held out his left arm and Mark went to him. He hugged him tightly to his chest. “If I took you I’d have unfair advantage. I’m feeling a little sluggish from eating all your grandmother’s good chicken and dressing. Maybe I’ll take a rest and let your daddy have a go at it.”

John had been enjoying the interaction between Brooke and his family. She enjoyed them as much as they enjoyed her. She wasn’t the first woman his parents had invited to dinner in hopes of jump-starting a romance, but John couldn’t remember a single one of them that his children or his parents had taken to so quickly or been so happy to be around.

“How about it, John? Can you take her?”

Brooke blushed and John’s own body heated. Before he allowed his mind to remember all the times they’d made love, he rose to his feet. They’d met for breakfast every morning. Once they actually ate. He hadn’t seen her Saturday because he’d been busy working. He fully planned to make up for it when he followed her home tonight. “I’d consider it my pleasure.”

A warm flush spread up from the scooped neck of Brooke’s floral sundress. “You’re welcome to try.”

“We’re awesome, Daddy,” Amy said. Then she leaned toward him as he took his seat. “It’s OK to lose; Mrs. Johnson says so.”

John took his father’s seat and began shuffling the dominoes. “Your pre-kindergarten teacher is absolutely right. So when you, Mark and Brooke lose, I don’t want you to cry.”

“Ha!” Brooke cried. “Shuffle.”

John lost three straight in record time. Amy gave him a kiss to make him feel better. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too,” He told her, then set her down when she pushed against his chest. She promptly got back up in Brooke’s lap. They looked perfectly at ease with each other, their heads close together, giggling at something Brooke whispered in his daughter’s ear. Mark eased up beside her chair and she hugged him to her side and had him laughing, too. They’d sat in a booth Friday night at a local burger joint and had had a wonderful time. It was as if they’d always known each other.

It was strange watching his children playing and happy with the same woman. Amy could make friends with a rock, but with Mark, it took longer. Not with Brooke. She had won him over from the beginning. John had always wondered what it would have been like if Linda had lived. She’d loved him and their children so much. She shouldn’t have died. She was too young and too good.

Brooke glanced over at John. The teasing smile on her face froze. She was taken aback by his hard, angry stare that drilled into her. Stunned, hurt, she came unsteadily to her feet. “It’s almost six. I should be going.”

John’s parents and the children protested. “Dinner was wonderful. Thank you for the invitation.” She set Amy on her feet, gave her a hug, then hugged Mark. “Be good, you two.”

“We enjoyed having you, Brooke,” Mrs. Randle said. “’Bout time Hiram learned a little humility.”

“I’ll get her next Sunday,” he said.

Brooke’s gaze flickered toward a silent, grim-faced John, who had stood when she had. “Thank you, but I may go home to Columbia. Goodbye.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.” John pushed the chair under the table.

“Not necessary.” She picked up her small Fendi clutch from the end table and headed for the front door. She’d hoped to escape, but she could feel John’s presence right behind her. She kept her head high and her steps unhurried, but there was nothing she could do about the tightness in her chest.

Deactivating the lock on the Jag, she reached for the door handle. John’s hand closed over hers, trapping her between him and the car. His body bowed over hers. Air hissed from her lungs. She trembled. Despite everything that had just happened, she couldn’t prevent her body from still wanting him.

“I’ll follow you home.”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” She didn’t want to look at him and see the anger in his eyes again.

“Why are you running away from me?” he asked.

She would get through this. “What do you expect after the way you looked at me? If you don’t want me around your children—”

“No. Never that.” His body gently touched her, then he straightened, his hand closing around hers on the door handle. “Come with me to the backyard. Please.”

Refusing to look at him, Brooke allowed him to lead her into the backyard to a picnic bench. She didn’t want to create a scene in front of his parents’ house. Otherwise he’d be on his back again. The security light snapped on the moment John opened the Cyclone gate.

They sat on a redwood picnic bench with their backs to the house. In the daytime it would be shaded by the nearby oak and magnolia trees. She was just glad the thick, leafy branches cast shadows on her and hid the emotions on her face. Randolph had made her angry and hurt her pride when he’d shown her that she didn’t matter to him. She was afraid John would hurt her heart.

“Well?”

“I’m not sure how to say this.”

“Just say it.” Her hand flexed in his. Perhaps if he had ended it with some tact, she’d leave him standing instead of spitting out Bermuda grass.

Sighing, he leaned back against the table. “Seeing you with Amy and Mark made me think of Linda, and what it might have been like if she had lived.”

Pain twisted in Brooke’s chest. He resented her. This was worse than she had imagined.

“I’ve tried so many times to envision her laughing and playing with them, us being a family. Sometimes I’m more successful than others, but I can always see her face.” His hand tightened on Brooke’s. “Tonight I couldn’t see her. Her picture kept slipping away.”

Brooke heard the pain in his voice and ached for him. “Tell me about her.”

John reared up and stared at her in disbelief.

“I saw her picture on your desk and in your house,” Brooke said softly. “She was a beautiful woman with Mark’s serious eyes and Amy’s smile. You loved her.”

“More than my life.” He swallowed hard. “She was the best part of me. It was her idea to open the garage instead of my working for someone else. She ran the front office, took care of Mark, and still kept the house. She always had faith in me. Six weeks after Amy was born Linda began having these bad headaches.” His free hand rubbed across his face.

“The doctor thought they were migraines until she passed out driving, a month later. They did a series of tests and found a brain tumor. By that time it was inoperable. Everyone was sorry. Near the end she was in and out of consciousness and in a lot of pain. Over and over she kept telling me to take care of myself and the kids, that she loved me. I took off work and stayed with her the last month.”

“John.” Tears slid down Brooke’s cheeks.

“I don’t want to forget her.” The words sounded torn from him.

Brooke understood what he was saying. No woman would ever come first in his life again. Hurt she didn’t expect went through her. There had been no promises. Yet she knew what she felt for John went beyond simple caring. “Do you want us to stop seeing each other?”

“No.” The answer was sharp and decisive. He took her face in his. “I wake up longing for the taste of you and go to bed wishing you were next to me.” His forehead leaned against hers. “Even when you’re trouncing me at dominoes I enjoy being with you. But the next time I’m coming out on top.”

For now that had to be enough. “Weren’t you in that position Friday morning?”

John’s head came up, his gaze hot. “I can be that way again in thirty minutes.”

“If we hurry we make it in twenty.”

*   *   *

“Man, we needed you at the bat Saturday,” Sam Carlson told John as he sat in a folding chair in front of John’s desk Monday afternoon. “The Sharks creamed us five to one.”

“Sorry, but I told you when I joined the team that work came first.” John kept working on a customer’s bill, and it would be a hefty one with a complete overhaul on his vintage ’Vette.

“Yeah, it’s just that you’re our best player and we need you if we’re going to finish in the division.” Sam, lean and balding at forty, leaned forward. “You’re coming to the next game on Saturday, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be there if I can.” John reached for another customer’s invoice. He was leaving on time tonight. After he got the kids in bed his parents had agreed to come by and he was going to see Brooke.

“You’re sure it’s work that’s keeping you away?”

John lifted his head. His eyes were flat. “Meaning?”

Sam shifted. He and John had gone to elementary school together. John didn’t like his integrity questioned. “The guys in the shop mentioned you and some woman who’s been in a couple of times. Talk is, she’s off the hook, and I thought she might be the reason you didn’t make it.”

John was on his feet before he realized it. “I don’t lie. Anytime you want my uniform you can have it.”

“Now, John—”

“If you question me again you won’t have to ask for it.”

“I didn’t mean anything.” Sam came to his feet. “We’ll see you at the game … if you can make it.” He reached for the door. “Sure hope you can. Invite your friend. I’d like to at least see the woman who had me seeing my life flash before my eyes.”

John took his seat. “If you try to hit on her, you’ll pay full price for your parts from now on.”

Sam winced. He had a ’72 Caddy he loved almost as much as he loved women. “Enough said. Later.”

“Later.” John leaned back in his chair, then picked up his phone and dialed.

Brooke’s breathless voice answered on the second ring. “Bliss, your first stop for a more blissful you.”

“How’d you like to go to a baseball game Saturday night around five?” he said. Then he explained about the team’s loss.

“I’m not sure I can get off that early, but I’ll try.”

“Good. Now, about the days in-between,” he said casually, but he had a death grip on the ballpoint pen in his hand. “Mother called this morning and said they’d stay with Mark and Amy once they were down for the night so you and I could go out. Where would you like to go?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“I was hoping. I’ll be at your place at eight-thirty.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

*   *   *

“Hi, Claire.”

“Derek!” Claire gasped and ran across the shop to hug her brother. Taller by five inches, he had her dark brown eyes and nut-brown complexion. Always on the thin side, his suit coat hung loosely on his frame. She wished he had worn the suit she sent him the three hundred dollars to buy six months ago while he was job hunting. “When did you get in? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

He smiled at her enthusiasm. “Thought I’d surprise you. A partner of mine was heading this way and he wanted some company for the drive. This is some set-up.”

“Thank you,” she said. “The other partner, Brooke, is gone, but I’d like you to meet the woman who talked me into this.” Looping her arm through his, she took him to Lorraine, who was working on restocking bath gels and soaps.

“Lorraine Averhart, my older brother, Derek,” Claire said proudly.

Smiling warmly, Lorraine extended her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you from Claire. It’s nice meeting you.”

He tossed Claire an affectionate smile. “She always looked up to her big brother.”

“That’s as it should be,” Lorraine said. “A customer just came in. Excuse me.”

“Sure.” He glanced around again, noting the glass, the display, the chandelier. “This is some set-up,” he said again. “You must be making money hand-over-fist.”

Claire tensed in spite of herself. “The first year is always rough. We’ve only been open a little over a month. You pile all the profits back into the business. The rent takes a big chunk.”

“Hmmm.” Derek picked up a jar of moisturizing cream and flipped it over for the price tag. “Thirty bucks. How many of these have you sold today?”

Claire’s smile wavered. “I don’t know. Perhaps five or six.”

Once again he glanced around the shop. “And that’s just one product.” His attention switched to Lorraine ringing up a sale. “I think you’re going to be rich.”

“Hardly.” Claire laughed it off.

“I know about these things.” He picked up a bottle of lotion. “My old lady would sure welcome me back if I brought her some of these products.” He picked up a couple of candles. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Claire remembered Brooke’s family insisting on paying full price for merchandise; and the number of customers her family continued to refer to Bliss. They wanted to help, not take. Lorraine paid for her daughter’s products as well.

“I mean, technically, it’s half mine anyway since you got the formula from Mama,” he said.

Claire’s mouth gaped. He’d never wanted to help, never poured one mold, never brought one thing their mother needed.

Derek laughed. “Just kidding. You should see the look on your face. You know how I like to joke. You go on and help your friend. I’ll just look around.”

Still reeling from the shock of her brother’s words, she walked away. Yes, she remembered how he liked to joke, but she also remembered how much he liked money … sometimes to the exclusion of everything else.

*   *   *

Claire tried without success not to be annoyed with her brother for the amount of products he’d picked up. The sweetgrass basket overflowed. She threw a glance in Lorraine’s direction and was happy to see she was helping another customer and not paying attention to them. “Derek, you have over two hundred dollars worth of merchandise.”

“So what?” He shrugged his shoulders under a thin black suit that had seen too many dry cleanings. “You’re a partner and I’m just like one.”

There it was again, the inference that he deserved a portion of the profits. “Derek, we share equally. It isn’t fair to them.”

Immediately he was offended. His eyes narrowed angrily. “If you don’t want me to have it, just say so,” he said, his voice rising. Customers turned in their direction.

Claire flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then put them in a bag and take them home with you. I’ll get them tomorrow before I leave.” He straightened the lapels of his suit. “Right now I have to meet Ronnie. We’re going to check out the action around here.”

She stopped ringing up the merchandise. “I thought you had a lady friend.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He winked. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“You’re staying with me?” she questioned, her eyes widening.

He frowned. “I always do, don’t I?”

“I have a date,” she blurted.

He looked incredulous. “You’ll be home long before I will, so it won’t be a problem. In any case, I have my key. Bye, Claire.”

Claire watched him saunter from the shop and felt like shaking some sense into her brother’s insensitive head. She felt like crying because she would have to cancel her date with Gray. Telling Lorraine she had to make a phone call, she went into the back and dialed.

“Gray, I’m sorry, but Derek is in town. I have to cancel.”

“What’s he done?’ Gray asked sharply.

“Nothing,” Claire said, then saw no way to put it delicately. “You two don’t like each other and he’s staying with me.”

“Knowing Derek, he won’t be there for long.”

She took a seat. “Gray, please.”

“Do you want to see me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then I’ll see you at eight as planned.”

She dropped her forehead into her hand. “He won’t like it.”

“All I care about is what you like. Goodbye.”

Hanging up the phone, Claire returned to the shop. She wasn’t looking forward to her brother and Gray meeting.

*   *   *

“What is he doing here?” Derek asked the instant he walked into the house that evening and saw Gray sitting on the sofa.

Claire took a deep breath and closed the front door. “Gray and I have a date.”

“Date? The daughter of the hired help going out with old man’s Livingston’s grandson?” Derek sneered. “The only place he’d want to take you is to bed.”

Gray came off the couch in one controlled motion. Rage filled his eyes.

Embarrassed for herself and angry at her brother, Claire stepped in front of Gray and braced her hand against his chest. “Please.”

A muscle leaped in Gray’s jaw as he stared at Derek, then he brought his attention back to her. “Let’s get out of here.”

“She ain’t going nowhere with you,” Derek said. “I noticed the way you used to look at her, but you never asked her out until she stood to make money for your company. You’re not using my sister.”

“You’re the one doing that,” Gray said tightly.

Derek bristled. “How many society things has he taken you to, Claire? You certainly don’t look like you’re ready to go to any ball.” Her gaze flickered down to her khakis and cotton blouse, then away.

“Thought so. Leave, Livingston, and don’t bother my sister again.”

Gray kept his attention on Claire. “Claire, you don’t believe him, do you?”

“She’s got your number now.” Derek went to the door and opened it. “Take your lying self someplace else.”

“Do you believe him?” Gray asked, unmoved.

Claire finally lifted her head. “No.”

The back of his knuckles brushed across her cheeks. “That’s my girl.”

“The door is waiting for you, Livingston,” Derek told him.

“I’ll be back,” Gray told her.

Derek slammed the door after Gray, then stalked over to his sister. “What’s the matter with you? I know you always watched him with those big eyes, but didn’t I tell you that all he wanted was some action between the sheets.”

Claire winced at his crudity. “I don’t want to discuss it, Derek.”

He threw up his hands in the air. “All right. Just don’t come crying to me when it’s all over. At least you’re too old to get pregnant.”

She whirled on him and he stepped back.

“Your friend is waiting on you,” she told him.

He licked his lips. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll thank me one day.” He hurried out the door.

Wrapping her arms around herself Claire sank onto the sofa in the family room. Derek’s last taunt had gone straight to her heart. She’d always wanted a husband, children. She just realized how much she wanted Gray to be that man and the father of her child.

Derek was right about one thing. Gray would never stay and when he left she’d lose twice: him and any hope of her dream for a family coming true.

The doorbell rang and she pushed herself up. Derek must have forgotten something. She’d let him in then go to her room. She didn’t want to see or talk to him now.

“Gray,” she said in surprise.

“I didn’t think he’d stay long.” He closed the door and put his hands on her shoulders. “I have a confession to make.”

“All right,” her voice trembled. She’d never seen him look so serious.

“I didn’t ask you to go to places at first because I selfishly enjoyed being alone with you. But if you want to go out, I’ll have my secretary fax you the list of invitations I’ve received for the next month and you can pick out which ones you want to go to. Or we can go wherever you want.”

The vise around her heart eased. “Bliss is running smoothly. Perhaps a couple of dinner dates out might be fun.”

“Is tomorrow night too soon to have dinner at the Peninsula Grill or would you rather wait until later in the week?”

The five-star restaurant was ultra chic, expensive, and served exquisitely prepared low country dishes. She’d need a dress, shoes, a trip to the salon for her hair and nails to be done. “Perhaps later in the week. Maybe Saturday.”

“It’s a date. Come on, let’s go for a walk on the beach, then we can come back here and eat popcorn and find a sad movie on TV so you can cry on my shoulder and I can comfort you.”

Her arms circled his neck. “You’re an amazing man.”

“You make it ridiculously easy.” His lips sought hers.