Deadly Obsession (A Brown and de Luca Novel Book 4) (7 page)

“Why wouldn’t I ask? You think I burned my brain in that fire?”

He could’ve said “heart” and made it all emotional and awkward. That he didn’t told me just how well he knew me. But his eyes told me how he felt anyway. And I tried to let mine say it back, even if my vocal chords had frozen up on me at the thought of telling him I felt the same way he did.

And then he kissed me, and all my misgivings and stupid insecurities melted away. And since when was Rachel de Luca insecure about anything, anyway?

* * *

Gretchen was watching, the way she always watched her men. She had a perfect spot, comfortable even, on a tiny rise in a wildflower-dotted field adjacent to his house. It was dark outside, so he wouldn’t see her there with her tripod and telescope. She had it pointed straight through the living room window, and she could see everything.

And what she was seeing right then was the man she wanted in the arms of another woman. Rachel, Marie had called her. She’d learned a lot more about her since.

She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes she’d made in the past. She wasn’t going to charm the man away from another woman, only to have him go back to her later on. This time she would remove every single obstacle between herself and Mason Brown first. And then, when he was grieving and had no one else, he would turn to her for comfort. There would be no second thoughts, no changing his mind, no need for her to punish him for hurting her. Ever. He would be hers. This time she’d found the right man. Her soul mate. This time it was going to be forever.

* * *

It was the kind of night I’d been missing.
Missing
being a mild term. I’d been going through some kind of Mason Brown withdrawal. Restless, cranky, pissed off at everyone, especially myself, for not being so great at even admitting I
had
sappy-ass emotions, much less figuring out what they were and how to express them. I was slower than him to catch on to what I was feeling. So I’d frozen when it had hit me between the eyes. Jeez, when he’d said he loved me, it had sent me into shock. Not because of what he’d said, but because the sudden rush of that unfamiliar emotional shit was trying to drown me. I’d been overwhelmed. And, frankly, convinced that couldn’t possibly be what love felt like.

I’m not a hearts-and-flowers type, if you haven’t figured that out by now. I’m practical. I’m self-sufficient.

I’m fucking in love.

God
dam
mit. I’m in love.

I managed to make love to the man I loved, for several hours, as gently as I possibly could, which wasn’t easy, ’cause my man was
eager.
And I managed to do that all without once saying the words I had decided to say to him. Why was I having such a hard time blurting out three simple words?

As I lay there all curled up in his arms while he slept and I didn’t, with the kids and the dogs safe and sound down the hall, I kept thinking that this was a life I could embrace. That I was happier here, in this run-down farmhouse than in my own
Home Beautiful
centerfold. That I liked noisy, overly rambunctious kids and a new puppy better than I liked living with nobody but Myrtle. And she wouldn’t be insulted by that because she liked it better, too. (Except for the puppy part. She hated the cute little interloper’s guts.)

Wow. Who’d have thought that getting my eyesight back would turn out to have been the
smallest
change in my life over the past year?

* * *

We were cooking breakfast for the kids, the picture of domestic bliss, except that my nerves were tighter than piano wire and my mind was apparently on strike. I walked into things, tripped over things. You’d have thought I’d gone blind again, except that I’d never done that blind. This was something else. Something different.

Mason had phoned the new nurse first thing, to tell her she could start today, and now he had sausages and bacon sizzling away, and blueberry waffles steaming in the biggest waffle iron I’d ever seen. I was in charge of coffee, but all I’d managed so far was to bang my elbow on the edge of the fridge and scatter ground roast all over the counter. I laughed self-consciously and scraped the mess into one hand with the other, then brushed it into the trash. “I’m clumsy today.”

He grinned, flashing that dimple that made my belly ache, had a quick, conspiratorial look around the room and whispered, “I was too much for you last night, huh?”

I smiled back at him and glanced into the living room, making sure the boys were nowhere in sight, just like he had. It was automatic once you got used to having them around. “You had a lot of stamina,” I admitted. “But I was trying to go easy on you, you know.”

He slid his good arm around my waist from behind and nuzzled the back of my neck. “Come on. I was amazing and you know it.”

“Jeez. Vanity, thy name is Mason Brown.”

He nibbled my earlobe. I closed my eyes and said, “Okay, okay, you’re Super Stud. Now stop it before I make you burn your bacon.”

“Never heard it put quite like that before,” he said. “But okay. As long as you call me Super Stud.”

A throat cleared. We jumped apart like guilty teenagers. Jeremy was leaning in the doorway, grinning like an orangutan, the puppy cradled in his arms. “So, Super Stud, I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy. Why are you, uh...cooking?”

My eyes got huge, and I think my face turned three shades of red. Kids. I couldn’t even come up with a smart-ass comeback.

“I’m never gonna live this down, am I?” Mason asked.

“Oh, no. Not ever,” his nephew replied.

He shrugged. “Good. No excuse not to have a T-shirt made, then. By the way, breakfast in five minutes. Give or take.”

Jeremy shrugged and said, “I’m taking the puppy out to pee. And we’re calling him Hugo, by the way.” Then he crossed the room and reached into the cupboard for a box of puppy treats, took a couple out and dropped them into his pocket.

“Hugo, huh?” I asked. “That’s cute. Where’d you get it?”

“Josh. He was looking up potential names on the internet last night, and that’s what he came up with.”

I heard the snuffling and thunder of Myrtle hurrying down the stairs. Her toenails skidded noisily over the hardwood floor at the bottom, and then she galloped into the kitchen, and bashed her head into Jeremy’s shin.

“Ow!” He jumped up and down on one foot, rubbing the other leg. “Jeez, Myrt, what the
hell
?”

“Language, Jere,” Mason said.

“Me?” Jeremy asked with a nod toward me.

“Hey, I haven’t cussed once so far this morning. In front of you, anyway.” He grinned at me, and I finally managed to scoop some coffee into the filter basket, slide it home and hit the brew button. “Looks like Myrtle’s demanding equal time, kid. You mind taking her out, too?”

“Sure, why not? C’mon, Myrt.”

“If you give that pup a treat and not her, she’ll eat him,” I added, glad for a distraction from last night’s emotional overload.

“This I know,” Jeremy said. “She needs to eat first, get attention first and be spoken to first, consistently, to keep her from feeling the need to fight for dominance.”

“Internet again?” I asked.

He grinned. “I read a whole ebook on adding a new dog to the family last night.” He headed out the door with Myrt walking alongside him, touching his calf to keep herself on track.

Family. Good grief, even Jeremy was feeling it. The dynamic between me and Mason and the boys, and even Myrtle, had changed. Everything had changed. Drastically.

There had been a time bomb inside me, I realized, and it had been ticking away ever since Mason had come into my life. It had detonated when I’d watched him run into that burning house, thinking it might be the last time I ever saw him, and it had been throwing shrapnel and shock waves through my psyche ever since. I’d only realized the truth when he’d said those words to me. It was a lot to take in. I still needed some more time to digest it all.

The coffee was gurgling. We set the table for four, and Jeremy came back in with Myrtle and the pup.

“How’d they do?” I asked.

“Hugo peed. Then Myrtle went and peed right on the same spot.”

“She’s letting him know who’s boss, right, Jere?” Mason said.

“I don’t know. My book didn’t cover that.”

I had no doubt it was true. Jeremy put Hugo down. The chubby little bulldog pounced playfully at Myrtle, who released a long, low, dangerous growl.

“Myrt, stop being such a bitch.” I crouched low, rubbing her head to soothe her. “He’s a
nice
puppy.
Nice
puppy.” I frowned as I heard a car pull in. “Who’s that?” I asked, rising, hoping Myrtle wouldn’t eat Hugo as he continued running circles around her and yipping “play with me” in bulldog speak.

“I don’t know.” Mason frowned, too.

I looked out the front door as a nymphomaniac prostitute in a Nurse Goodbody costume got out of a little red car and Beyonce’d her way to the door.

“I thought it was June. It’s still June, right? ’Cause this looks like Halloween to me.”

Jeremy said, “If she says ‘trick-or-treat,’ Dad, give her me.”

“Oh, hell,” Mason said.

I turned slowly, tearing my eyes off the breast-feeding-mother-sized breasts that were revealed by the open top of her white, button-down, skintight, micro-mini nurse getup. Yeah, it was that bad. Anyway, I looked at Mason, and what I saw there was guilt.

She knocked. Jeremy opened the door to let her in. And she said, “You must be Jeremy. I’m Gretchen. I’m your uncle’s new nurse.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I said, not to her, to Mason. And I didn’t particularly care that I’d blown my unspoken “don’t swear in front of the kids so much” goal.

He shook his head, moving his mouth like a trout with something to say, until he finally managed, “I swear to God, Rache... I swear to God...”

“Uh, yeah. Whatev.” I turned to the nurse. “Happy fucking Halloween.” And then I scooped up my dog, (forgetting for a minute why I never carry her anywhere if I can help it) and, after suppressing both a grunt and a hernia, walked to my T-Bird without looking back. If we spat a little gravel when we left, it wasn’t deliberate. I mean, come on. How immature would that be, right? I’m not the jealous type.

Except my blood was boiling, and I had a quick vision of parking behind some bushes until that
beyotch
left the house, and then stomping the gas and leaving some tire tracks on her tits. They’d probably pop.

Wow. What the hell is wrong with you, girl?

I don’t know, Inner Bitch. You tell me. What is this?

Green-eyed monster. No doubt about it.

“I don’t
get
jealous.” I said it aloud.

You do now.

“No.” I shook my head, and tamped down the burst of temper. “No, you know what, no. I’m not doing this. Mason Brown is not a player. I know that. Whatever was going on back there, it wasn’t that. So I need to knock it the fuck off and give him a chance to explain.”

I took a big breath, nodded hard and pulled the car over. Then I pulled out my cell and called him.

He answered before the first ring finished. “It’s not what you’re thinking, Rachel. I swear to God, she didn’t look like that when she applied for the job.”

I sighed heavily. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I acted like a jealous...whatever back there. That’s not me. I don’t know who the hell that was. Some jackass snuck in and took over my body. Temporarily.”

“Actually, it made me feel pretty damn good.”

“That’s ’cause you’re a guy. And it fed your ego.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I’ll let you get back to the bimbo, I just wanted to tell you that...” I sighed. “I guess I trust you.”

“That’s nice. You can, you know.”

“I know.”

“I told her that her outfit was completely inappropriate and sent her home. I’ll hire someone else.”

“Not because of me,” I said.

“Completely because of you. Her showing up like that was an insult to you. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I set her straight.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Thanks for that. I’m sorry I ran out on breakfast.”

“Come back? We didn’t eat it yet.”

I shook my head. “Actually, no. I have a lot of writing to do today, I’m way behind. And...”
And I need some alone time.
“And stuff,” I finished lamely. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

* * *

Gretchen had worn a uniform that was a size too small, unbuttoned low, over a pushup bra. She’d blown her hair dry upside down, to give it that centerfold lift and fullness men loved, had applied flavored lip gloss and smoky eyes. She’d gotten out of the car slowly, one long leg first, and she knew he’d been watching. She’d felt his eyes burning on her thigh.

Men always responded to her thighs. The nurse uniform was a new touch. After all, most of her conquests never knew her real name, much less her true profession. But this one was different. With Mason it would be forever.

He’d watched her, she knew it, as she got out of the car and walked toward his front door, swinging her hips better than any runway model and mesmerizing him. She’d knocked, pretending she didn’t see him standing back there with the soon-to-be-former girlfriend, his eyes almost popping as they moved from her head to her manicured toes and back again.

And the teenage boy had practically been drooling when she’d spoken to him in her sexiest voice.

Then, just as she’d planned, the brunette had revealed herself to Mason as an insecure, jealous, controlling bitch.

Gretchen could tell that pissed him off. He didn’t even speak to her after that, only sputtered a little. That’s how angry he was.

Then, exceeding even her hopes, the brunette had hefted the ugly dog off the floor, snapped at her and stormed out.

Gretchen looked at Mason and gasped, squeezing moisture into her eyes. “Why would she say that to me?”

“Um, ’cause you look like you’re wearing the sexy nurse costume from Party City,” the horny teenager said, all bravado and pretending he wasn’t as turned on as his father was.

“Jeremy, that’s not nice.”

The kid blushed, then took his puppy and turned around.