Seeing is Believing (6 page)

Yet she had, and he seemed to find it exciting. He made little sounds of encouragement before his eyes narrowed and he gave one final thrust as he exploded in his own passion. Piper felt the convulsion of his erection, felt the hot spurt of his desire burst up inside her, and she shuddered as little tremors tripped through her vagina, like fingers tickling up her spine.

And she knew this was both the smartest and the stupidest thing she’d ever done in her entire life.

Brady stared down at Piper, too stunned to speak. He didn’t need any warning about being quiet now. He couldn’t produce a word if the bed had burst into flames. Actually, it sort of had. Good God. What the fuck had just happened to him?

He hadn’t had sex with a woman without a condom since . . . ever. But he had with Piper, without hesitation, and it had felt like everything he loved all rolled up in one. Like fireworks and whiskey and a big old, fat paycheck. But even better.

She was so tight, still clinging to him now as their breathing slowed down, his shoulders relaxing. She had come with an ease that had blown his mind, had sent him crashing into his own orgasm, and he’d had the stupid thought that she had been waiting for him to do that. That he was somehow unique, the man whose touch she craved.

Now that his blood was flooding back to his brain, he felt moronic for even thinking something so weird. She was an adult—clearly—and despite the innocence of her seduction techniques, there was no way he was the first man to give her an internal orgasm. End of story.

But it still felt good knowing he had. Fast, too. That couldn’t have been more than five minutes.

Ego suitably puffed back up, Brady flipped his hair back out of his eyes and eased out of her. Now what?

It wasn’t every day he had mind-blowing sex in secret with a girl he had babysat. The best way to proceed wasn’t entirely clear, and he was feeling strange, off-kilter. Like she had sucked all the sense out of him, and he didn’t really trust anything that might come out of his mouth. He had the feeling he might just say something totally stupid and completely lacking in game.

Piper didn’t seem to have anything to say either, though, just lying there looking as stunned as he felt, her chest flushed with exertion. Brady briefly worried about the wet spot that was probably being generated on Shelby’s bedspread as they lingered there, but decided there wasn’t any point in worrying about it. It was too late to feel guilty, and he’d already passed the pervy point of no return about thirty minutes ago.

On his side, he relaxed, his hand resting idly on her belly. Brady tasted a mouthful of her hair, because it was piled up all in front of his face, and because he could. It made a slight crunching sound as he gummed it between his lips, and he decided it didn’t taste like anything, but he still liked the feel of it.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sounding as unnerved as he felt.

“Nothing.” He sighed. “I should go back to Zach’s room. It would be bad to get caught here.”

“Yeah, it would.”

Was he actually disappointed that she didn’t protest? He was. Insane. He had completely lost his mind. There was no reason he needed to snuggle with Piper all night, and it was damn risky. Innocent children should not see the erection that he’d be sporting again before long, given the proximity of Piper’s lush, naked body. It was not cool. He needed to leave. It was neither the time nor the place to pull her close against him and fall asleep with her in his arms.

When, if ever, that would be, he had no clue.

Brady sat up. Then he groped around the bed for his underwear and pulled them on. Piper just watched him in the moonlight, not making any effort to cover up her gorgeous body, which both pleased and pained him. He wanted another go at her. Yet at the same time he was feeling wracked with guilt for not resisting the temptation she had presented.

Because what was he thinking? Seriously? How could anything come out of this other than his nuts in the viselike grip of Danny Tucker? The thought made his dick shrivel. With a sigh, he kissed her on the forehead and said, “See you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

That was it. Nothing else. Yet he could feel her eyes trained on his back as he crossed the room, could feel the weight of her desire, the smell of their activities sweet and tangy in the air around him, the sexual tension drawing tight again. She wanted more. And so did he.

Brady stood in the hallway for a minute, confused and aroused, not necessarily in that order. He wasn’t exactly sure what had just happened, or what was still happening. He couldn’t get the image of Piper’s mouth opened in a silent cry as she came, her nails digging into his back, out of his mind. It was seared in there, like a brand on his brain.

It had been more than he could have expected, intense and satisfying. Yet he’d done so little, and there was still so much of her he would like to touch and taste and explore. He hadn’t even gotten to do much more than palm her breasts, and that was a crime. Because she had a full, creamy, delicious, absolutely off-limits breast, with a cherry-on-top nipple that made his mouth drool just thinking about it. Which had his mind already rationalizing that if he’d already been inside her, why couldn’t he suck her nipple? Right? There was logic in that.

Overall, there was no logic in anything he’d done in the last week. He should be back in Chicago looking for a job, not wasting a couple hundred bucks on gas to drive to Cuttersville. Not pawing through old papers that showed that Rachel the candlestick-lobbing chick had a fiancé with the same damn name as him. Not plowing Piper Tucker as thoroughly as the back field in early spring.

The thought of which had him rock solid all over again.

Brady went back to Zach’s twin bed and punched the pillow a few times. Tossed and turned. Contemplated how creepy it would be to jack off in a bed that wasn’t his own. Then decided that it was a teen boy’s bed, so it would hardly be the first time a palm had been rosied there while picturing a perfect breast.

He was feeling a little desperate, so he needed to do something.

Stroking himself lightly, he imagined what it would be like to have Piper on his cock, riding him hard and fast, those beautiful breasts bouncing freely.

Damn it. He squeezed hard.

It had been a long time since he’d had this kind of immediate reaction to a woman, and it was disturbing.

All he knew, as he imagined Piper on top of him, his hand sliding over his hard cock even faster, was that he wasn’t going back to Chicago on Sunday, as was his original plan.

He was going to stick around his old stomping grounds for a little while and further renew an old acquaintance or two.

Hopefully while naked.

* * *

PIPER WATCHED BRADY WALK ACROSS THE ROOM IN
his underwear, his shoulders twisting as he slipped through the door and pulled it softly shut behind him. She could hear him go into Zach’s room and flop onto the bed, the frame creaking, the sound so loud that she marveled that they hadn’t woken up the girls.

A flush of shame rose up her body. Whatever she had wanted to do with Brady, whatever she had done, it shouldn’t have been with the twins in the house. She was horrified at her lack of discretion, her inability to separate her lust from what was right. She loved those girls and she would never want them to see anything inappropriate, hear anything she couldn’t explain.

The thought had her out of bed and pulling on her now-dry clothes with trembling fingers, the dampness between her thighs an obvious reminder of what she had done. As was the soreness she felt. What had felt so glorious when it had been happening now felt a little tawdry. She climbed back in bed and tried to remember the certainty she’d felt when Brady had taken her hand, the wonder she’d known when her orgasm had just reached out and yanked her into a freedom of pleasure she’d never experienced before.

That was what she had to think about—remember—tomorrow when it was awkward and she felt guilty.

That for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, she had done something selfish, and it hadn’t hurt anybody. It had felt amazing to take what she wanted. Or to be taken, more accurately.

The house was silent, only the occasional pop as the old Victorian settled. The rain had stopped. Yet Piper felt something.

She realized Rachel was standing in front of the bed.

Of course she was. Piper pressed the palm of her hand to the soft tank covering her chest, startled even though she really shouldn’t be. “Please stop doing that.”

She lay on her back, eyes wide-open, Rachel at the front of her bed, very much aware of Brady in the next room. Was he sleeping? He had the biggest penis she’d ever seen. Not that she’d seen a lot, but still. It was a lot to contend with. Could she fit that in her mouth? She wasn’t sure.

Rachel glared at her, and waves of recrimination rolled off her. Or maybe Piper just thought they did. But for some reason she felt like she was being judged. “I’m a grown woman,” she told Rachel. “It didn’t mean anything.”

But that was a lie. Even as she spoke the words she knew it was a lie. And while Brady might have willingly screwed her, more to the point she had screwed herself. It was a real challenge to eat one potato chip and leave the rest of the bag untouched. Brady was going to be in town for a few more days and he was one salty, crunchy hunk of delicious that she wanted to taste all over again.

The way he kissed her . . . Have mercy.

Sighing, Piper gripped the bedsheet and watched her new ghost BFF hovering as clearly as her thoughts of Brady.

It seemed there wasn’t going to be any sleep for her that night.

Chapter Five

“HEY, SHEL, WHAT’S UP?” BRADY WAS SURPRISED HIS
cousin had answered her cell phone. She wasn’t known for even remembering where it was, let alone answering it. But then again, she was probably worried about being away from her kids.

“Brady? I’m fine. How are you?”

Hopping onto the kitchen counter, his favorite place to sit since he’d been tall enough to jump up there, he stared at the note Piper had left him. He’d stayed in bed until he was certain she and the girls were out of the house. Slightly cowardly—okay, a lot cowardly—but he couldn’t face eight-year-old twins whose babysitter he had banged until he’d had some coffee. Truthfully, when he saw Piper for the first time since he’d left her naked in the dark, he wanted to be alone with her, though he didn’t see that happening anytime soon. Piper’s note said they had gone out to the farm so the girls could play with her brothers, and he was welcome to join them. And that there were fresh towels under the sink. And coffee ready to be perked. Fresh eggs in the fridge.

The note was almost a novel, she was being so considerate. She’d left her cell phone number and told him not to worry about Snoopy, that she’d already let the dog out. There was a spare house key sitting next to the note.

Another marked difference between the women of his childhood and the women in the city. Back in Chicago, a woman would have left him before he’d woken up and sent him a brief text that was more or less a breezy thanks and blow-off. Or maybe it was just the women he’d been dating, women who thought more about themselves than anyone else, or were more concerned about appearing in control and unaffected. It cluttered his already jumbled thoughts, clouded his feelings. What did he do with Piper Tucker? Well, aside from what he’d already done, which he’d like to repeat as soon as possible.

But he shouldn’t. He should talk to her, thank her for a great time, explain how they both knew it couldn’t happen ever again.

That was exactly what he should do.

“So Shel, how is it that you never leave town, yet you manage to do it the one weekend I’m here in Cuttersville?”

“What! You’re in Cuttersville? Are you shitting me? Why?” He heard her shifting the phone. “Boston, Brady’s in Cuttersville.”

Boston’s response was too muffled to understand.

Brady put his foot on the kitchen chair across from the counter, stretching his leg and inspecting his toenails. Time to clip those fuckers. “You having fun in Cincinnati?”

“Why are you in Cuttersville? Is everything okay? Is your dad dead?”

He rolled his eyes for the benefit of the empty room. “As far as I know, he’s not dead, and if he was, I imagine you’d know before me. I just wanted to visit my family, that’s all. I had some time off work.” A lot of time. An indefinite amount of time.

“Well, how long are you staying? We won’t be back until suppertime tomorrow.”

Which was when he’d originally been intending to go back to Chicago. But he heard himself say firmly, “I’ll be staying all week.” And maybe longer.

“Good. Where are you staying?”

“Last night I stayed at your house. I came late, it was raining. I thought you’d be home. Fortunately, Piper let me in. Damn, Shel, that girl has grown up. She’s beautiful.” Brady winced at the sound of enthusiasm in his voice. He hadn’t meant to be that obvious, but it just came spewing out, like corn from the thresher.

There was a long pause then Shelby said, “Brady Stritmeyer. You keep your hands off Piper, do you understand me?”

Oops. A little late for that. But he could lie with the best of them. “What? God, I just said she was beautiful and you’re jumping to conclusions. You’re beautiful, and I don’t want to sleep with you.” It was a lame argument and he knew it, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit that he had nailed Piper in Shelby’s bed. Not only because he didn’t want to hear it, but because some things were private between a man and a woman. Special.

He winced again. Jesus. Different, that’s what he meant. Different. Not special, just not ordinary, not an everyday sort of one-night stand. Not a one-night stand at all. Not something selfish and crude, not about getting off and nothing else. About feeding the fire that had sprung up between them so immediate and so hot it was . . . special.

Holy crap on a cracker.

“I know you. You like women. But Piper isn’t just any woman. She’s Danny’s daughter. She’s special, you know that.”

Oh, my fucking God. There was that word again.

He did know that Piper was special to her family. He also knew that Piper knew it. And he suspected Piper would rather just be considered normal. “She’s also an adult. I can’t get over how much she’s changed.”

“People change when you’ve been gone a dozen years.”

There was condemnation in that, loud and clear. “Ouch. Point made. I should have come home once or twice, I admit it.”

“You should have. Your sister’s kids are in high school. When was the last time you saw them? When was the last time you saw your grandmother?”

Brady pressed the on button on the coffeemaker. If he was going to be lectured, he needed some coffee. “I’m here now.”

“Why no warning? Are you in trouble?”

That made him snort. “No, I’m not pregnant.”

“Very funny.”

He kind of thought so. “So, do you happen to know the name of the fiancé who was killed in your house?”

“What?” That caught her off guard. “What are you talking about?”

Hopefully, it also prevented a tirade.

“You know, Rachel’s cheating fiancé who did a head butt with a candlestick.”

“No, I have no idea,” she continued. “Why?”

“I can’t believe no one bothered to ever ask at some point.” That bothered him. A lot.

“It didn’t seem important to the story. He was a dog, clearly.”

“That dog has the same name as me.”

“What, Brady? Really? That’s a coincidence. How did you find that out?”

As the scent of the coffee filled the small kitchen, Brady looked around. He’d never felt unsafe in this house, ever. But suddenly he wished he could see what Piper saw. It was like walking around in a cemetery without headstones. He could be knocking into dead people left and right and he had no idea. “Piper and I found some papers in the basement, a photocopy of the original newspaper article.”

“Why were you in the basement?”

“Why are you not focusing on the relevant facts of this conversation?” he asked, exasperated.

“You’re staying with Gran tonight, right?”

So she was fixating on him being in her house with Piper. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her yet. Why?” He felt irritated with his cousin.

It was clear she felt the same way. “You really should have called and let me know you were coming to town.”

“Oh, for Chrissakes. I’m sorry. Next time I won’t call you at all,” he said petulantly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Can I talk to Piper before you hang up on me?”

“She’s not here. She took the girls to the farm.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good. That’s great. What a wonderful idea.”

Shelby couldn’t be more transparent if she were glass. “Yeah, I get it. You don’t want me around Piper. But if Gran doesn’t have a bed for me, I’m staying here tonight and you can just suck it.”

“You’ve always been a brat.” But there was no heat to her voice, just a begrudging affection.

“And your favorite cousin.” Brady grinned, jumping down so he could get himself a mug. “Admit it.” He and Shelby had always been close, despite the distance.

“You’re not so bad.” There was a pause. “Brady. I’m glad you’re home.”

He smiled. “You know what? I am, too. Who would have thunk it?”

* * *

SHELBY HUNG UP HER CELL PHONE AND TURNED TO
her husband, who was looking damn sexy in his jeans, the river behind him. “We have to go home.”

He didn’t react at all. “Is someone bleeding?”

“No.”

“Broken bones?”

“No.”

“Then we’re not going home.” He took a sip of his beer and shook his head. “Shelby, we never leave the kids. Ever. It’s two nights total, and we’ve already managed one and nothing bad happened. In fact, we had some damn hot sex last night and I would like to repeat that tonight. There is no reason we need to go home early unless your grandmother died.”

That shocked her enough to smack him on the arm. “Don’t say that! Not even as a joke. You’re borrowing death. God, Gran can’t die.”

“And you’re borrowing trouble. What do you think is going to happen?”

“Brady is in our house with Piper. He’s always had a way with girls.”

“Piper is an adult. She’s not stupid.”

That was easy for him to say. He wasn’t a girl. Shelby knew what happened when boys talked you out of your panties. You wound up married and pregnant at eighteen with bad hair. Wait. That was her. “I know she isn’t. But I just have a bad feeling.”

“Honey. We’re at Oktoberfest. It’s a beautiful day. The only thing you should be feeling is a buzz from the beer.”

“I can’t believe I’m drinking a beer at eleven in the morning.” That did freak her out a little. She was having a hard time not being responsible. In fact, it hurt a little to loosen up.

“I think it’s awesome.” Boston leaned over and gave her a kiss that curled her toes.

Fifteen years and there was still toe curling. Shelby found herself relaxing.

“What do you think the girls are doing?” she asked, snuggling up close to her husband. She didn’t have to guess what Zach was doing. It would involve headphones in his ears at the neighbor’s house. But the girls were still so little. She worried.

“Getting dusty just like their mama did when she was a little girl. Lilly more so than Emily, but they’ll both be filthy by noon.”

“They do take after me, don’t they?” she said ruefully. They attracted dirt like a Hoover. “It’s too bad none of the kids are neat like you.”

“But I love all of you anyway. Now come on. I want you drunk and going down on me in the hotel room by dinner.”

Shelby sucked in her breath. Yep. Still toe curling. “I think that can be arranged.”

* * *

PIPER SAT ON THE BACK PORCH OF HER PARENTS’
house, a glass of iced tea in her hand, as Lilly and Emily were hanging out on the play set with her brothers, Logan and Jack. The sun felt good on her arms and she tried to feel and act normal, not like a woman with a big, old, dirty secret.

It had been disappointing that Brady was still sleeping when she left. But on the other hand, she wasn’t sure she could face him in the light of day in front of the girls, his eyes slumberous, his feet bare. She wasn’t a good actress, and she was a lousy liar.

Which was why she was rocking, rocking, rocking, anxiously waiting for someone—mostly her mother—to figure out that she had had sex the night before. Excellent, intense, orgasm-causing sex. The kind that made her want to do it all over again.

Her cheeks felt hot and it wasn’t even that warm of a day. Piper took a sip of her tea and almost choked.

Lilly was dangling upside down on the trapeze bar. “Piper! Look at me!” She let one hand go to wave, before her shirt slipped down over her chin, baring her round belly.

“Great job,” Piper said, waving back.

“I’m so glad you never did that,” Amanda said, sitting in the wicker chair next to her, inspecting her manicure. Her dog Baby was at her feet, snoring gently. “All I can think is that she’s going to fall on her head. It scares the crap out of me.”

“She’s a total monkey. She’s not going to fall. And I wasn’t much of a risk taker as a kid.” Nor was she normally now. With one notable exception. Piper felt the burn of embarrassment when she thought of how she had dropped her robe for Brady in the hallway the night before.

“Well, thank you for that. I appreciate it. You never gave me a single gray hair.” Piper’s stepmother glanced out at her two boys. Logan was beating something in the yard with a stick and Jack was standing on the swing instead of sitting in it. “Your brothers on the other hand . . . What do you think Logan is hitting with that stick?”

“I think it’s a garter snake.” The scene was chaotic, dogs running all around, one of them tripping Emily and sending her down to the hard-packed dirt, Jack leaping off the swing in a superhero move that resulted in him accidentally kicking one of the other dogs, who darted away with a look of alarm.

“Eeeww. Why do boys like snakes so much? Is it Freudian?”

Piper had long ago given up trying to figure out boys, young or old. “If it is, that seems a little counterproductive to be slapping it with a stick.”

Her mother was about to speak, then seemed to think better of it. She just crossed one long leg over the other, her tribal maxi skirt effortlessly stylish, her gold sandals and pedicure immaculate. Her hair was shorter now than it had been when Piper was a kid, but it was still just as blond as ever. As far as Piper knew, she’d yet to need to dye it to cover any gray.

When Piper had first come to live with her father, when Amanda was hired as her nanny, Piper had favored simple, tomboy clothes. She had wanted to downplay her looks, disappear into the background. Standing next to Amanda had made that easy, and Piper had taken comfort in holding her hand, knowing that Amanda would always command attention in any room they walked into, and people wouldn’t see the little girl with the eyes too big for her head. They had been quite a pair, the expensively dressed heiress from the city and the bald, abandoned kid. But it had worked, and while her father had been falling in love with Amanda, Piper had as well. Amanda was truly the woman she thought of as her mother, and when she’d hit her awkward middle-school years, she’d tried to imitate Amanda’s style, with disastrous results. A gawky thirteen-year-old wearing tangerine orange skinny jeans and big gold hoops with a suitcase of a handbag had been a sight to behold, especially since she had still been painfully shy. Fortunately, that phase had been short-lived and she had settled on a feminine style that suited her, consisting mostly of skirts and dresses and simple jewelry.