The Secret Life of Bryan (14 page)

Patti scowled, but drew back the hand she’d extended toward Bryan’s rear.

Bryan pulled his gaze off Shay and looked around. As Shay watched him, his eyes widened in disbelief. “Barb?”

She fluffed her newly styled hair. “It’s me. Shay just gave me a new do. You like?”

Bryan cleared his throat. “Yeah. It—I mean you—look…nice.”

“Don’t choke saying it.”

“Sorry.”

She stood and thrust out her chest. “What do you think of these clothes?” Her sour expression made it clear what she thought. “Shay says it looks nice, but I feel like a nun. You can’t even see that I have boobs, can you?”

Bryan’s mouth opened twice, but nothing came out. His eyes seemed to be glued to her face, unwilling to venture down near her “boobs” to give an opinion. Shay grinned.

Barb had an overblown figure that no amount of classy clothing would hide, but with the right outfit—a loose, button-up blouse and straight blue skirt that just skimmed her knees—she looked sexy instead of sexual. Her long brown hair had new highlights and had been blow-dried into a silky curtain to fall down her back.

“Well?” Barb demanded.

He looked to the heavens, as if begging divine intervention. None came. “All right, you want the truth?”

Barb shriveled a little, and in a small voice, said, “Yeah?”

“You look a hell of a lot better. Men like to guess what’s underneath, not have it shoved in their faces.” He warmed to his topic, making all the women sit up and take notice. “No one is going to miss your figure, Barb. But any guy who’s interested in a better peek is going to have to get your attention, and then your cooperation, by being nice to you.”

“Why?”

“So that you’ll want to show him what you have to offer. It puts you in control instead of the other way around.”

Barb chewed on that and finally nodded. “Yeah. I think I’d like taking a little control for a change.”

Patti scoffed. “I get paid extra for that.” Then she blanched. “I mean, I used to. Back when I still did that.” Her apologetic smile had them all smiling in return.

Bryan turned his attention to Morganna.

Shay watched him take in the changes she’d so meticulously wrought. Morganna’s red hair, now toned down to a richer, deeper shade, hung in a tidy braid down her back. Rather than hoop earrings the size of a plate, she wore small golden studs. Without the garish makeup her eyes were a clear, bright green. She was tall, lush on the top, and the romantic peasant blouse and matching white slacks emphasized her height, giving her new dignity.

“You look great, too, Morganna.”

“I know, sugar. I can’t help it.” She winked. “It’s not the digs, but the body underneath.”

“Exactly,” Bryan said, agreeing with her.

She gave an evil grin. “I probably shouldn’t tell, but it’s only the top layer that’s spiffed up anyway, because I ain’t giving up my sexy undies for no one. I just wouldn’t be me without a little leopard print or peekaboo lace or leather.”

Bryan raised a brow. “Leather?”

“Yeah, you think that’s sexy, doncha?”

Patti swatted at her. “He’s a preacher, idiot.”

“He’s still a man.” She drawled that out, trying to make Bryan blush, Shay knew.

Instead, he said, “Actually, I’m more partial to cotton. Soft cotton. But every guy is different.”

The women went mute for a single second before Morganna roared with laughter. “A simple man, huh? Well, as you said, to each her own.”

“You should wear whatever you want underneath, Morganna,” he said in encouragement. “Whatever makes you feel good.”

Patti giggled in coy, rehearsed delight. “Nothing at all makes me feel good, so I’m bare as a baby underneath.”

Bryan looked dumbfounded.

“Shay said it was okay, long as I remembered not to bend over—”

“So Bryan,” Shay rushed out, interrupting Patti’s awesome admission. Discussing underwear, or lack thereof, was not something Shay had ever expected to do with Bryan. She rushed into speech, hoping to get the conversation back on track. “They’ve each had a makeover. I told them they looked wonderful, but they needed to hear it from someone else, too.”

“You were right. Very nice.” Bryan’s attention skimmed over Patti, and he smiled. She wore a black silk blouse and beige slacks that complemented her light brown hair and eyes. She looked ready to grab at him, so Bryan sidestepped toward Amy. She sat quietly, taut with nervousness.

Bryan nodded at her. “Amy? I like your new clothes, too.”

Shay had taken extra care with Amy. The girl was still jumpy, and thin in a gaunt, sickly way. Dark colors or pale pastels would have only made her more so. Instead, Shay had chosen a simple tan dress with three-quarter-length sleeves. The flowing skirt fell to mid-calf, showcasing cute flat sandals. Simple gold jewelry completed the look.

Amy ducked her face more without replying.

Shay understood Amy’s reserve and saved her from further unwanted attention. “Would you like to have breakfast with us, Preacher?” She hoped he appreciated her effort. She’d promised only to call him Bryan in private, and she’d keep her promise.

“Well…” He wanted to escape, she could tell, but Shay wasn’t about to let him.

“It’ll be delicious, I promise,” Shay said.

Barb shoved back her chair. “Sit down, both of you. I’ll get it. After all, I cooked it. And damn right it’s good. With Shay nagging over me, how could it be anything else?”

Morganna laughed. “Barb doesn’t like all the fuss, but I’m starting to enjoy it.” With her baby finger bent just so, she waved a linen napkin at Bryan. “Makes me feel special.”

“You are special,” Shay assured her while returning to her chair.

Patti grinned, and said to Bryan, sotto voce, “Shay says that a lot.”

“Only because it’s true.” Shay grinned at each of them. “And I don’t want any of you going to your interviews today with an empty stomach.”

“I don’t wanna go at all,” Amy muttered without looking up.

Shay ignored that. Everyone was enthusiastic about the job possibilities—except Amy. Shay hoped that more encouragement and support would get her through her difficult adjustment.

Bryan waited until Barb had returned to her seat, then he joined them at the table. “What’s this about interviews? How many of you are going?”

As usual, Morganna spoke up before anyone else could. “Just me, Amy and Patti. Since Barb already works for you, she don’t need a job.”

Shay leaned close and whispered in Morganna’s ear, and a second later Morganna said,
“Doesn’t
need a job.” As everyone began passing serving bowls of scrambled eggs, potato casserole, and platters of ham and toast, Morganna added, “I’m going to this fancy restaurant to apply. If I get the job, I’ll have this dorky uniform to wear, and I’ll be cleaning tables and stuff at first. But if I can pick up all that nonsense about different sized forks and where all the silverware goes, I can be a waitress. Know what they make?”

Bryan shrugged. He looked like a wary mouse dropped into the middle of a field of hungry cats.

“Not as much as I make a night, that’s for sure.” Morganna gave an exaggerated wink. “I’m good, so I make plenty. Just goes to show you that flesh is better than forks any day. But sugar puss, I know putting out forks has just
got
to be easier than putting out—”

Shay smoothly interrupted. “And you’re so personable, Morganna, you’ll make a ton in tips.”

“Right,” Barb said with a sneer. “The best tip she’ll get will be to
shut up.”

Patti scooted her chair closer to Bryan’s. “I’ve got an interview at a place that makes frames for artwork. It’ll be cleaning and putting out supplies, but Shay says if I learn the trade, I might be able to become a saleslady.” She scooted closer again, until their chairs bumped. “I think I’d be good at sales, don’t you?”

“I think you’ll do well at anything you put your mind to.”

It was simple praise, but Patti beamed. “Really?” She leaned closer to Bryan. “I figure sales should be easy. After all, that’s what I’ve always done. Sell myself. This’ll just be selling something different.” Her hand landed on Bryan’s thigh.

Shay stood, took the back of Patti’s chair, and dragged her back into place. “We all have seats at the table and we have to stay in them. That’s how it’s done. Otherwise you’ll ruin the arrangement.”

“The arrangement?” Bryan said.

“Sure. At all the fancy banquets and stuff, there’s always seating arrangements. Hosts try to make sure that the guests are situated in the most advantageous ways to avoid conflicts and keep conversations going.”

Barb snorted. “Then Patti needs to be set far away from anything wearing pants.”

Ignoring that quip, Bryan eyed Shay. “When was your last fancy banquet?”

She stalled, but quickly recovered. “You can learn anything in a book.”

“Damn right,” Morganna said, “which is why Shay got us all library cards.”

Bryan’s eyes nearly crossed. “Library cards?”

Rubbing her hands together, Morganna said, “That’s right. Shay’s taking us to check out some books tonight, after we finish our interviews.”

“I’m not going,” Amy insisted.

“Yes you are,” Barb told her. “We’re all going.”

Bryan met Shay’s gaze across the table. She knew he had a ton of questions, just as she knew she couldn’t answer them yet. She tried for a smile. It wasn’t easy, not with him looking at her like that, like he was both impressed and pleased. Her heart started to beat faster and her breathing deepened.

“Get a room, for crying out loud,” Barb grouched. “How are we supposed to choke down this stupid fancy breakfast with you two panting all over each other?”

Shay turned three shades of red, but Bryan merely said, “Real men do not pant.”

“No?” Patti asked. “What do they do?”

He shrugged. “Growl? Groan? I don’t know. Something manly.”

Morganna burst out laughing. “Then I’ve known a lot of unmanly men.”

“’Course you have,” Patti said with a frown. “I imagine we’ve known about every kind of guy there is.”

“The panters aren’t so bad,” Morganna added. “If they’re panting, they get it over with quicker.”

Patti raised her glass in a salute.

Bryan, surprising Shay with his lack of discomfort over the bawdy conversation, lifted a bit of fluffy egg on his fork and said, “Delicious. Now you know the way to a man’s heart.”

“Ha!” Morgan shook her fork at him. “Shay says real men should know how to cook, too.”

“She’s right.” Bryan flashed his grin around the table. “And I do.”

“Then what do you need me for?”

Barb’s question was sour and hurt and anxious. Bryan reached across the table and took her hand. “You’re a better cook, and far more organized. We wouldn’t get by without you.”

Barb nodded and withdrew her hand.

Shay wanted to melt on the spot. Bryan was so at ease, so natural with the women. And they were responding to him in a most unexpected way. They liked him. They respected him.

They
trusted
him.

What a totally remarkable man.

Amy, her plate still full, slid away from the table.

Startled, Shay laid her napkin aside, but Amy was already ducking through the doorway. “Amy?”

“Breakfast was good,” she muttered without stopping. “Thanks.” And then she was gone.

T
wenty minutes later, a horn blared outside, and both Patti and Morganna jumped up from the table. Bryan watched as Patti paused, gave an absurd curtsey, and said, “Excuse us. That’s our taxi. Gotta run.” She went out the door with a loud bellow for Amy, almost splitting his eardrums.

Morganna bent and gave Shay a hug, squishing her with her impressive bosom. “Sorry to leave ya in a rush, hon, but I don’t want to be late. Barb, you outdid yourself, girl. Thanks.”

“Tomorrow is your turn,” Barb reminded her, and Morganna gave a wave of agreement before she, too, disappeared out the door.

Wearing an apologetic smile, Shay stood and went to the kitchen window. Bryan watched her watching the women. It wasn’t curiosity, but rather concern that motivated her. She wanted to see her chicks safely on their way.

Amazing. The women Shay wanted to protect were more hardened by life than Shay would likely ever be. But she had mother hen tendencies so strong, she’d try to nurture a boar hog if she thought it could use her help. He shook his head in awe, even while admiring her.

In his mind, he went over all the things he knew about Shay, that she was generous, thoughtful, beautiful, kind, strong-willed, independent…but he didn’t know
her
.

He didn’t know where she came from or why she needed to stay in a safe house or why she was so willing to get so involved with women whom other women usually avoided like the plague.

He
needed
to know.

Eating the last bite of egg on his plate, he joined Shay at the window. Morganna sat up front with the cabbie, gabbing all the while. Patti slid into the back, reluctantly followed by Amy. Shay smiled in a pleased, proud way.

From behind them, Barb grouched, “So I guess I get the cleanup from the fancy ta-do? We’ve got ten times more dishes than we needed. These damn tea parties are a pain in the ass, if you ask me.”

Shay’s smile never slipped. “After cooking everything, you deserve a break. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and I’ll put the kitchen back together?”

Barb’s eyes narrowed and slid toward Bryan. “I get paid to clean. That’s my job.”

“But I don’t mind giving you a break, and I’m sure the preacher doesn’t mind, either.”

Bryan took his cue. “Not at all. I’ll even help with the dishes.”

“A true manly man,” Shay teased.

Barb still hesitated, then with a calculated, exaggerated shrug, she tossed down the dish towel and walked out. The second she was gone, Bryan felt the tension tighten around him.

He’d never survive this.

He still faced the doorway, trying to think of what to say, when he felt Shay’s arms slip around him from behind. “I missed you,” she whispered while hugging herself against his back. It was such a tender gesture that at the same time set him on fire.

His eyes closed. “Shay, don’t.” He pried her hands loose and turned to face her. Big mistake. She didn’t look discouraged. No, she smiled at him, a knowing smile that made mush of his convictions.

But she also looked adorable in her determination, and he had to smile in return. It was a novel thing, turning away a woman he wanted so badly—a woman he wanted more than any other.

He touched her nose. “Behave, woman. We have a kitchen to clean, remember?”

She grinned and headed to the table to stack the dishes together. “What do you think? Wasn’t it great to see them trying so hard? Barb is the best at remembering her manners, she just doesn’t bother to use them very often. And Morganna is trying the hardest. Patti’s always so busy flirting that she sometimes forgets.”

“And Amy?”

“I’m working on her.” Shay turned thoughtful. “She’s so shy and withdrawn, it isn’t easy. The others accept me. They sort of treat me like one of them.”

Bryan carried plates to the sink, then filled it with hot water. “But you aren’t?”

“You know I’m not.”

“You said you’re not a hooker, but that’s all I know.”

She bumped her hip into his. “So what else is there? You know I like it here, that I’m trying to help.” And then with new excitement, “Did you see how great they looked in their new clothes? They weren’t crazy about toning it down at first. I mean, they’ve made a living off of flaunting their bodies. But there’s just something about the feel of good clothes that I think won them over.”

Bryan was no fashion expert, but even to his less than discerning eye, the outfits had looked like real quality. Shay just confirmed it. So, where the hell did she get the clothes?

Raising crossed fingers, Shay said, “I hope the jobs work out. Morganna especially will be devastated if she doesn’t get the position. I told her
no
dirty jokes!” She laughed. “But boy, she has some zingers.”

“How’d you get interviews lined up so easily?” Plenty of times, Bruce had tried to get the various area merchants to give the women a chance, but few ever would. Most businesses were afraid of them, afraid of what their clients or customers might think.

“They know me.”

“How?”

She lifted one shoulder and began scrubbing plates. Bryan accepted each clean piece to rinse and put in the dish drainer. They worked in silence for a full minute before she finally said, “They’ve helped me in the past.”

So ambiguous. “You’ve worked for them?”

Her brow furrowed. He could practically hear her thinking of ways to fashion her reply. He didn’t want her to lie to him, so he said, “Never mind.”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but—”

He didn’t want her to be sorry, either. “You’ve made a lot of changes in a short time. It’s amazing.”

Frustration darkened her eyes. “Just superficial stuff. Clothes and makeup can’t change the woman. Not that they need to change who they really are. Just maybe how they feel about themselves.”

“How do you feel about yourself?”

Again, she bumped her hip playfully into his. “I like me, if that’s what you mean.”

Her look was so young and carefree, he tensed with emotions he’d never experienced before. In some ways, her natural exuberance for life reminded him of Megan, his wife who’d died far too young. Only Shay seemed infinitely stronger than Megan ever had. And despite her involvement with hookers, she seemed far more ethical. “I like you, too.”

A slow, jerky breath expanded her chest, making her breasts rise. “Really?”

Such a simple compliment, but she acted as though he’d just given her diamonds. He looked away from her and put the last glass in the drainer. He tried to sound casual and unaffected, when he felt far from it. “What’s not to like?”

“Will you kiss me again?” And before he could deny her, “You know you want to.”

His brain scrambled for excuses, reasons to give, when all he really wanted to do was say, “Hell yes.” Before he could do more than consider it, she stepped up to him, squeezing in close so that her soft, female scent wrapped around him and her hair brushed his jaw. She was so tall that their bodies aligned perfectly.

Bryan hesitated, but Shay didn’t. She wrapped her soapy wet hands around his neck and plastered her mouth to his.

Definitely not a hooker, he thought, amazed at how untutored her kiss seemed. He caught her waist, but not to push her away. He couldn’t. He was a man, simple in his needs. And right now, he needed her. Damn near a week away hadn’t made any difference.

Bruce had given him permission.

His conscience no longer cared.

Drawing her closer so that she had to tip her head back made it easy for him to take over. He could feel her fast breaths on his cheekbone, feel the press of her belly to his abdomen. She was warm and soft and she smelled so good he wanted to devour her. His tongue slipped into the heat of her mouth, searching, exploring…

The phone rang.

Shay moaned, easing away from him the tiniest bit. Her eyes were heavy with desire, her lips rosy and damp from his kiss. “Ignore it,” she whispered against his mouth.

“You know I can’t.” But God, he wanted to.

“It’s no one.” Her nose touched his throat; she inhaled, nuzzled. “For two days now it’s been ringing and there’s never anyone there.”

Alarm jerked Bryan out of the sensual haze. Scowling, he set Shay away from him, strode the two steps to the kitchen wall phone and snatched it up. “Hello?”

A split second later, the kitchen window exploded and something hit the wall beside his head.

“Down.”
The phone dropped from his hand and he tackled Shay to the hard floor. She gave a startled “oof” and started to fight him, but Bryan was already over her, pinning her with his bigger body in an effort to shield her.

Only Shay didn’t want to be shielded. Like a crazy woman, she pushed against him, making it hard to control her. “Damn it, Shay, hold still.”

He tightened his hold and dropped all his weight on her. Her gasping breaths pelted his ear, her fingers bit into the muscles in his shoulders.

“Bryan.”

The agonized panic in her tone sank into him and he allowed her to push his face back, her hands moving over him in a frantic search. Voice shaking, eyes wild, she wailed,
“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” he said, but then he saw the streaks of crimson red on her cheek and in her fair hair. What the hell?

“Hold still.” He touched one smeared drip near her temple and tested it between his fingers. “Paint.”

Confused, Bryan swiped his hand over the side of his own face. He was soaked, though he hadn’t realized it until that moment. When the window had shattered, his instincts had kicked in, and his focus had been on protecting Shay.

His palm came away smeared with splotches of bright red. In his rush to protect Shay, he hadn’t even felt the splatter.

Shay was nearly sobbing, and he gently shook her. “It’s not blood, Shay. It’s paint. Just paint.”

She went still, her eyes unfocused on his face. “Paint?”

“That’s right. Probably from a paintball gun. Someone’s idea of a sick joke.” He levered away from her. “Don’t move.”

“Wait!” She sounded breathless and still far too anxious.

Bryan looked at the wall where the receiver hung from the wall unit phone, swinging like a victim of the hangman’s noose. From a single deep dent in the plaster, an obscene red spiderweb of paint spread out.

Right next to where his head had been.

If the paintball had hit him, it sure as hell wouldn’t have tickled.

He looked down at Shay. She was pale, her breathing shallow. Frowning, he scooted to the side of her. “Hey, you okay?”

Unmindful of the messy paint, she threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight. She didn’t cry, but her hold was choking. “I thought—”

“Shhh,” Bryan whispered. “I know. I’m sorry.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, anxious to investigate outside, but just as anxious to calm Shay. “Did I hurt you when I knocked you down?”

She drew a deep, calming breath, visibly pulling herself together. “Just a little.” Her hands touched his face again, as if she had to make sure, one more time, that he wasn’t wounded.

Bryan was leveled by her concern. And he didn’t have time to be leveled, damn it.

Tucking Shay close, he moved nearer to the wall, away from the broken glass and the view through the window. If anything else was shot in, he didn’t want to chance her being hurt. “Stay put while I check it out.”

He’d barely moved more than an inch before she snatched him back. “Are you nuts?”

“It’s okay,” he said, now impatient. “I know what I’m doing.”

With a hand fisted in his shirt, she shoved her face close to his. “You’re a preacher, Bryan, not a one-man SWAT team! Let’s just wait for the cops.”

“There won’t be any cops. There was no gunshot, no screams.”

“Then let’s just wait here, where it’s safe, until someone comes by.”

“Knock it off, Shay.” He pried her fingers loose. “I’ll be okay. And I mean it, don’t you move a single inch.”

Indignation replaced her fear. “You’re not my boss.”

“Shay…” Time ticked by, and with it, the chance to find clues.

Her eyes narrowed. “I have many faults, but stupidity isn’t one of them. I’m not budging till I know it’s clear—and you shouldn’t, either.”

“We won’t know if it’s clear until I take a look.” Bryan used the sink counter for leverage and slowly pulled himself upward. Glass crunched beneath his boots. The sink was filled with more glass, and the countertop glistened with it. He had to be careful not to cut his fingers.

At an angle, he glanced through the shattered window. It looked clear. Whoever had fired through it was likely gone by now.

But he had to be certain. He went back to Shay, cupped her face and tilted up her chin so she looked at him. “Be right back. Don’t move.”

“Idiot.”

Exasperated, he started to move, but Shay clutched him again. “I’m going to be so mad at you if you get hurt.”

That almost had him smiling. “I’ll be fine. You have my word.”

“And a preacher wouldn’t lie.”

Bryan shook his head. He wasn’t a preacher, but he was a damn fine hunter. In a crouch, he left the kitchen and went into the living room.

Barb stood at the top of the stairs, her hands clasped on the railing. She jumped when she saw him. “What the hell happened? I heard a crash.”

“Someone shot out the kitchen window.”

“What!”

“Paintball gun, not real bullets. Stay up there while I check things out.”

“That ain’t no problem! I’m plunking my moneymaker right here on the top step and I’m not budging.”

At least she didn’t argue like Shay. Using the curtain for concealment, Bryan peeked out at the main yard. From this window, he had a better view of the street, but there was no one there. For as far as he could see, the area was clear.

Slowly, as silent as possible, he opened all the locks and ducked outside, then into the bushes. He kept moving, making himself a difficult target in case he missed the obvious and someone lurked within range. In this particular area, people stayed up late and slept late. Most of the houses were still quiet and dark.

He strained to hear the sound of a car, footsteps, anything. All he detected was birds and the street traffic a few blocks away.