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Authors: Carol Grace

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BOOK: Granted: A Family for Baby
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“That’s exactly what I mean,” Tally said, tying Suzy’s apron for her and patting her on the back.
Suzy nodded, grateful for her ever-optimistic friends. But at that moment the possibility of living happily ever after seemed remote and out of her grasp. She slid a
tray of hot hors d’oeuvres out of the oven and, after hastily transferring them to a platter, rushed into the living room, tired of explaining, even to her best friends, why she was doing what she was doing.
Chapter Six
A
s she walked through the crowd, handing out stuffed mushrooms to the well-wishers, she heard snippets of conversation.
“Knew he’d win.”
“Hear Suzy’s quitting. Leaving Brady in the lurch.”
“How come?”
“I dunno.”
“That why he looks like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like he lost the election instead of won.”
“Where’s she going? What’s she gonna do?”
“I dunno.”
She wanted to say she was not leaving Brady in the lurch. That if he was in a lurch, it was his own choice. She hadn’t told anyone except Brady and her best friends where she was going or why. They’d find out soon enough that she was working at the diner. But nobody else would know she was there to find a husband.
Suzy was grateful to have so much to do, serving food and pouring champagne. Talking with friends, toasting the victory, thanking the volunteers and forcing herself to keep a smile on her face. But her most difficult job was ignoring Brady. She didn’t want to think about that episode in the bathroom. She didn’t want to remember how it felt to be kissed so passionately.
She didn’t want to want more. But she did want more. She wanted to feel his body tightly pressed against hers. She wanted to run her hands through his hair, feel his heart thud against hers. Feel the heat from his body course through hers. Most of all, she wanted to know how he really felt about her.
She did
not
want to know if he really looked like he’d lost the election. If he looked sad, it was a natural postelection reaction. And it wasn’t her fault He was just sorry the excitement was over. So was she. That was normal. And she’d tell him so. But she wouldn’t feel guilty about quitting her job. She’d warned him. He could have hired someone else by now.
She just wanted to get through the evening. She thought about leaving early, but each time she eyed the door longingly, somebody would come up to talk to her, give her another glass of champagne and tell her what a great job she’d done.
When she finally got to the kitchen to wrap up the leftovers it was midnight and the last guests were in the driveway saying good-night to Brady. If she didn’t feel responsible for cleaning up the kitchen, she would have headed for her car and sneaked away without saying goodbye to him. But she couldn’t leave his normally pristine kitchen with half a ham on the counter, a pool of melted ice cubes in the sink and a pile of paper plates spilling out of the trash can. Even though she was tired.
So tired. She was clumsily tucking the last piece of foil around the ham when he came into the kitchen.
She glanced up at him. They were right. He did look like he’d lost the election. There were deep lines carved in his forehead. Some unnamed emotion tugged at her heartstrings. It couldn’t be sympathy. How could she feel sorry for somebody who’d just won the only thing he cared about, the election for sheriff of Harmony, Nevada?
If it wasn’t sympathy then why did she want to throw her arms around him, smooth those worry lines away, and kiss him until his troubles disappeared, until he kissed her back, until they were caught in a firestorm of passion? What was wrong with her, anyway, letting her imagination run away with her?
More importantly, what was wrong with Brady?
“Hungry?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Any champagne left?” he asked.
She picked up a clean glass, filled it from a half-empty bottle and handed it to him. Just the brush of his hand against hers flooded her with desire. Her knees were so weak she had to sit down. Just for a moment. Just until she cleared her head and pulled herself together. Just until her hands stopped shaking.
“I thought you’d left,” he said, sliding into the straight-back pine chair opposite her.
“I’m going,” she said, dragging her eyes away from his “Just as soon as I...”
“Don’t go. Not yet.” His eyes darkened, smoldered with unfinished business, with unfulfilled desire. Her heart leaped into her throat. She couldn’t speak, let alone move.
“I have to. I...” she stammered, bracing her hands against the edge of the table.
“Is it Travis?”
“No, he’s at my mother’s, but...”
“But you’re tired, tired of working for me. It’s been a long day. And a long campaign. You’re tired of putting your own goals on hold while you help me get what I want. On your own time, too. I understand that. What I don’t understand is why...” He took a large drink of champagne. “I don’t understand why nobody’s married you so far.”
“Thank you,” she said primly, as if he’d complimented her on her ability to understand the complicated county rules and regulations.
“I mean it.” He gazed at her under hooded dark eyes. “You’re everything a man could want.”
“Want? There’s a difference in wanting to get married and just wanting,” she explained.
“Yeah,” he said, sliding down in his seat and leaning his head against the back. “I know.”
She started to get up. He was either drunk or exhausted. In any case, there was nothing more to be said.
“Sit down,” he said, reaching out to grab her arm.
Startled, she sat down.
“About what happened up there in the bathroom,” he began.
“Forget it. I have,” she said.
“Have you?” His gaze held her mesmerized. Her skin was covered with goose bumps while inside, a flame burned, so hot she thought it might consume her. “I don’t think you have.”
She couldn’t lie. She could only reassure him. “It won’t happen again,” she promised.
“Why not?” he demanded, pulling himself up to lean
his elbows on the table. There was a gleam in his eyes, a seductive smile on his lips. “We’re mature adults. We’re both unattached. We like each other. At least I think you like me. I like kissing you, feeling your body next to mine...”
“Brady, stop,” she said, feeling her face flood with heat. “We can’t go on like this. It’s over.”
“Over? What’s over? Nothing’s happened...yet.”
“And it’s not going to.”
If nothing had happened, and if it wasn’t going to, then why did she feel this way? This dizzy feeling that she was sliding faster and faster into a deep, dark tunnel, spinning out of control. And she didn’t want to stop until she landed in his arms and he took her away with him. No. She could not, would not let this happen. “Come on, Brady, this isn’t what we want, either of us.”
“Isn’t it?” His eyes glittered dangerously.
She tried to deny it, but she couldn’t catch her breath. The air had whooshed out of her lungs and when it finally came back, all she could do was to plead with him. “Help me out, Brady.”
“Help you out? I am helping you out. I’m doing you a favor by showing you what you don’t want in a husband.” He reached across the table for her hand and stroked her palm with his thumb. She should have pulled her hand away, but the touch of his callused thumb drawing concentric circles on her sensitive skin was blatantly sexual, causing a instant reaction, a flood of sexual awareness that shook her to the core.
“I don’t need any favors,” she insisted, though her voice wasn’t as steady as she’d hoped. She didn’t want him to know the effect he had on her. “I know what I don’t want in a husband, and I know what I want.”
“And I’m not it.” For one brief second there was something in his eyes she’d never seen before. It wasn’t regret. It wasn’t grief, but it wasn’t relief, either. He let her hand go.
“That’s right.” She’d made a vow, after Travis’s father walked out on her, that she’d never be taken in by a handsome face, never be swept off her feet by a wave of purely sexual attraction. That when and if she ever committed herself again, she’d do it with a clear head and both feet on the ground. Right now she had neither. She intended to marry only once in her life, and as soon as possible, so that Travis could grow up with a father. That’s
all
that mattered.
After this stern talking-to, she took a deep breath, stood up and held on to the back of the chair, just for a moment. Just until the room stopped spinning around. What this man did to her ought to be illegal. And if it was? Who would she tell? He was the law in this town.
Brady saw her close her eyes and rock back and forth on her heels. He got out of his chair, grabbed her by the shoulders and held her tight. He buried his face in her silky blond hair. She smelled like sugar and spice. And everything nice. “How much champagne have you had?” he asked, drawing her close.
He was amazed once again at how well she fit in his arms. And how right she felt. Even though she was wrong, so wrong for him. And he was even more wrong for her. He would never again ask a woman to share his life. Even though he was no longer a big-city cop, he still had obligations to the town and to the county. And he still faced dangers. And worked long hours. He’d made a new life for himself here in Harmony, a life he loved, and he wouldn’t trade this life for anything or anyone. A lawman had to put his job first,
ahead of his family. If he wanted to do a good job, he couldn’t have a family.
That didn’t stop him from wanting Suzy. Wanting her so badly it hurt like a wound from a semiautomatic. He’d gotten over that, he’d get over this. Next week. He’d start getting over her next week. But tonight... tonight he was glad there was no deputy to burst in on them.
“Champagne? I don’t know. Just a few sips, why?” she asked. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are fine. You’re more than fine. But you’re in no condition to drive.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” He dropped his arms. “Here, walk across the floor on the line between the tiles.”
“Brady, I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not a suspect. I’m a responsible citizen.”
“And I’m the sheriff. It’s my job to prevent accidents before they happen.”
She glared at him. “You think I’m an accident waiting to happen?”
“You know you’re cute when you glare like that.”
“You know you’re annoying when you’re holier than thou like that.”
“It’s my job to be holier than thou.”
“Maybe you take your job too seriously.”
“Are you going to walk that line or am I going to take you into custody?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” He’d do almost anything to keep her there. He had no idea if she’d had too much to drink or if she was just very, very tired. In any case, she wasn’t in any condition to drive herself home, and if anything happened to her... She was part of his work,
part of his life, and he’d be damned if he knew what he was going to do now that she was walking out of his work and his life.
“All right. I’ll walk the stupid line,” she said, tossing her head defiantly.
She tried; he’d have to give her credit for trying. But she couldn’t do it. He stood at the wall and watched her take off her shoes and come toward him, staring at her unsteady, stockinged feet, biting her lip in concentration. He held out his arms and she walked into them, wool dress, white apron and all.
“Okay, you win,” she said, her face against his shirt, her voice muffled. “I’ll let you drive me home.”
“No way,” he said, sliding his hands down to rest lightly on her hips. He didn’t want to scare her away. But he wasn’t going to let her leave, either. “Like you, I’m in no condition to drive. What’s the point? Travis is taken care of. Nobody has to go to work tomorrow. It’s a big house. I have a guest room, so you don’t have to sleep on a lumpy couch.”
“Is that why you left my house that night? Because the couch was lumpy?” she asked, looking up at him with those soft, luminous eyes.
“No. I was afraid you’d see me before I’d shaved and you’d be disillusioned.”
“After all this time you think I have any illusions left about you?” she asked, running a finger along the rough outline of his jaw.
“Don’t do that, Suzy,” he warned in a tight voice. “I’m having a hard enough time keeping my hands off you.”
She stepped back and surveyed him under lowered lashes. The look in her eyes confused him. Did she or didn’t she want him to keep his hands off her? He
clenched his teeth trying to keep his libido in check. But damned if she wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his kitchen.
How had he worked with her this past year and not noticed? Now she was leaving. It was just as well. An affair with Suzy would have led to nowhere. She wanted to get married. He didn’t. And it would have made working conditions impossible.
A quick kiss by the coffee machine.
A brief touch as she passed his desk.
A hunger that started in the morning and grew as the day progressed. A desire that was not satisfied with a quick kiss or a caress. Was not satisfied until they’d closed the doors, turned off the lights, until he’d pulled her silk shirt off over her head, tossed it on her desk, ripped the buttons off his Oxford cloth shirt... Oh, Lord, just thinking about it made him hot and hard and determined to stop fantasizing along these treacherous lines. He just couldn’t do this anymore. If she hadn’t quit, he would have had to fire her.
BOOK: Granted: A Family for Baby
10.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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