Wrong Bed, Right Girl

by Rebecca Brooks

  He cracked his knuckles, the sound ringing through the quiet living room. Not a fucking chance.

  But she hadn’t done any of that. Even when she could. At the office, she could’ve demanded protection, help from the DEA, anything to get out of his place. Which meant she was choosing to stay here. With him.

  God only knew why.

  He was startled by a vibration and realized his phone was in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the screen, hoping no one needed him at work at this hour. But it was worse.

  Mom.

  He cursed under his breath.

  He called his mother every Sunday like clockwork. Ever since he’d turned eighteen and moved to the city for college, then stayed. Visits home once a month for Sunday dinner, phone calls Sunday evenings the rest of the time.

  A mid-week call couldn’t be good, especially not at ten at night. Shouldn’t she be sleeping? His stomach tightened as he answered, bracing himself for bad news.

  But she sounded way too excited to be announcing a terminal illness, a fall from the ladder he was always after her to stop using in the backyard, the demise of Monkey, the limp, drooling mutt that was going to outlast them all.

  “Sweetheart!” she cried, and he immediately pressed the volume down on his phone, afraid Talia would hear his mother’s endearment all the way in the other room as she lay sleeping.

  Only one woman was allowed to use the word “sweet” with him, and she was fifty-six years old, lived in Long Island, and he only begrudgingly allowed her the endearment because if he protested, she’d loudly remind everyone within earshot how many years she’d wiped his butt.

  Immediately, he asked what was wrong.

  “Wrong? Why would something be wrong?” She paused dramatically. “Is something wrong with you?”

  “Of course not. Everything’s great.”

  In a confusing, upside-down, sweaty, exhausted, just fucked his brains out on the roof at work and came home to do it all over again sort of way. But he didn’t need to get into that with his mother. Obviously.

  “You’re sure? You’re sure nothing is wrong?”

  “Mom, what are you talking about?”

  “It just seems like something has to be wrong with you, sweetheart, that you wouldn’t tell your own mother about your new girlfriend.”

  The silence following the word was dizzying. He was in free fall, no idea how far away the ground was or when his body was going to slam down and shatter.

  Girlfriend.

  He tried not to laugh in his dear mother’s face.

  “She’s not my—” he started, but she spoke right over him.

  “Don’t be coy with me, Reed Michael Bishop. I’m your mother.”

  “And I promise I couldn’t possibly forget it.”

  “You think you can sneak around living with a woman and not have the family find out? Reed, promise me you’re bringing her to Nana’s party next weekend.”

  “I—” He stopped. Swallowed the four-letter word that threatened to pop out. He may be grown, but he was still his mother’s son.

  And in serious trouble. In the pressure of the case, he’d forgotten about his grandmother’s eightieth birthday party. Or not forgotten, entirely. But relegated it to the back of his mind.

  “I’m not living with a woman,” he said, because he had to say something to set the record straight.

  He heard the sound of a throat clearing theatrically. He looked up. Shit.

  Talia was standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but his shirt over her bare legs. It was buttoned, but she started unbuttoning it slowly, never breaking eye contact as she mouthed in mock surprise, “You’re not?”

  “Aaron said you had a girl move in, and I can’t believe you’d keep that from me. If this young woman is going to be my daughter-in-law—”

  Oh God. His mom was yammering on about weddings and Talia was reaching the last button of his shirt, teasing it open to expose the swell of her breasts, the plane of her stomach, glimpses of that sweet, dark place between her thighs as his mother’s voice bored into him through the phone, reaching a fevered pitch about girlfriends, weddings, grandchildren, the works.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, both into the phone and to Talia. “She’s living with me, but it’s complicated, Mom.”

  He shot Talia a Don’t you dare make fun of me look, motioning frantically for her to button the fuck up before he lost his mind. This was his mother he was talking to!

  Only that just made her grin and do a little striptease with his shirt, pulling it over her shoulders, swaying her hips.

  He tried to get out of the line of sight. Getting a hard-on while on the phone with one’s mother counted as a mortal sin, didn’t it? He was going straight to hell.

  But Talia just danced around, making sure he saw her. She twirled, raised the hem of the shirt, flashed her ass before shooting him a torturous wink.

  “No, Mom.” He interrupted the rant still going on the phone as he skirted away from Talia and into the bedroom. “Yes, okay, she’s living here. But she’s not my girlfriend. Aaron got it wrong.”

  He picked up the handcuffs. Went back to the living room and dangled them in front of Talia.

  He covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “If you don’t stop,” he said to her.

  Her lips formed a perfect O. “Oh no,” she teased.

  “Reed, I want to meet her. Nana wants to meet her. We’re dying to know who she is.”

  “Wait—Nana knows?” He turned away from Talia, who looked even more interested in the conversation now that she knew there wasn’t just a mother but a grandmother involved. He might as well rattle off his social security number next, if she was going to sniff out everything about him anyway.

  “Nana, Aunt Delia, and your cousins Annabelle and Joyce said to make sure to tell you Talia’s invited for mani-pedis before the dinner.”

  Reed sat on the couch and hung his head in his hands. Talia came over, nudged his shoulders back, and plunked right down in his lap. The shirt rode up, exposing her bare thighs splayed across him. The buttons were open and he could see her breast, a hint of her stomach. She teased her fingers around the nape of his neck.

  As soon as he saw Aaron, he was going to knock his little brother out cold.

  “Tell Annabelle and Joyce that’s really nice of them, but Talia’s not interested,” he said.

  “Not interested in what?” Talia asked, perking up.

  “And she has terrible feet,” he said into the phone.

  Talia leaped off his lap. “Don’t tell your mother that!”

  “It’s true,” he said.

  “Tell her I’m a ballet dancer,” Talia said, folding her arms.

  “She’s a ballet dancer,” he told his mom.

  “Oh, how beautiful!” his mom exclaimed.

  “No, it just means she has terrible feet.” He swatted Talia away.

  “Oh, Reed. Don’t be a tease. I’ll tell Joyce that’s a yes, and we’ll see you both next Saturday. I don’t know where everyone will sleep, but we’ll figure it out.”

  “Mom, I’m not bringing her.”

  “Nonsense. See you next weekend, sweetheart.”

  She hung up before he could get in another word. He put the phone down slowly, closed his eyes, and rested his head on the back of the couch.

  He felt Talia come up to him, then the weight of her body straddling his lap again. He ran his hands up her thighs to her ass. She wiggled her butt against him.

  “Do you want to come to Long Island next weekend to my grandmother’s eightieth birthday party?” he asked wearily, eyes still closed, not believing what he was getting himself into.

  “Do I get a pedicure out of it?” she asked.

  “Apparently. But it comes with my crazy cousins. I have to warn you, my family is huge.”

  He raised his head, opening his eyes.

  “You already know I can handle huge,” she said, tracing her fingers up his chest with a wicked grin.

  “Yo
u don’t have to do it,” he said.

  “And let your family think your live-in girlfriend dumped your ass rather than meet your mother? Come on, Reed. You’re letting me stay here. I owe you. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  He took a deep breath. Right. Saving his ass. One favor in exchange for another. That was why he was inviting her, and that was why she’d do it.

  Or at least that was what he told himself as he slid his shirt off her shoulders. “So you’ll come with me?” he asked.

  “Sweetheart,” she said, giving the word the exact same intonation his mother did, so he knew she’d heard every word. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Talia grabbed her purse and slid into the passenger seat as Reed slammed the trunk and got in the car.

  “It’s not too late for you to back out of this,” he said.

  She whacked his arm. “Just drive.”

  He grinned and started up the rental car. “Just checking,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

  “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  After the week of rehearsal she’d had, she was glad to get out of the city. No matter how much Reed warned her about the relatives she was about to meet, it had to be less terrifying than another speech by Hal about how everything had to be flawless on opening night. She’d always loved performing—even the pre-show jitters. But “jitters” didn’t come close to describing how nervous she was for this show.

  They could have taken the train, but Reed’s mother wanted them to stick around for dinner on Sunday, too. Reed didn’t want to worry about rushing to catch the train.

  Besides, this was more comfortable. As they drove out of the city, Reed hooked up his phone to the car speakers to play music. To her surprise, he reached over and rested his hand on her thigh.

  She took it, letting her fingers interlace with his, feeling the easy weight of him on her leg. She was wearing a light blue dress and his fingers traced along the hem. Not sexual, exactly. Just…there. Like he wanted to be touching her, to be close to her. Which was what she wanted, too.

  “You’re sure you have time for this?” he asked her yet again.

  “It’s a little late to come up with reasons to dump me by the side of the road.” She smiled, and he gave her his tight-lipped grin back, eyes laughing more than his mouth would let him.

  “I mean your rehearsals,” he said. “I know the show opens in a week and I hate to think of you taking time off for this.”

  She waved her hand. “It’s nice of you to worry, but my muscles need the break.”

  Which wasn’t entirely true—she needed all the practice time she could get. But it was the same thing she’d told Hal when he’d suggested extra one-on-one rehearsals this weekend to review the lifts in the final scenes. She’d love to, but wouldn’t it be better for her to rest?

  Not like lying flat on her back as Reed drilled into her counted as relaxation. But she could imagine the look Hal would have given her if she’d said, “My boyfriend and I have plans. Yes, my boyfriend of a month, who’s really only using that label so his mom doesn’t ask too many questions. But I swear I’m totally putting Giselle first.”

  She wanted to go to Long Island, she wanted to meet Reed’s family, and she didn’t want to hang him out to dry. As much as he tried to find excuses not to bring her, she could tell he wanted her there. His hand barely left hers during the drive. Even when he reached to change a song or fiddle with the A/C, he still came back to her.

  By the time they were pulling off the highway, she’d managed to extract from him the names of everyone she was going to meet, including the dog his brothers had called Monkey as a joke, until the puppy learned to respond to it and it was too late.

  “I can’t believe this is all so close to the city,” she said as glimpses of the ocean appeared between houses. “Did you come into Manhattan all the time when you were a kid? I would have been on the bus, the train, the whatever to get to the city as soon as I could escape.”

  “I thought you liked Pennsylvania,” he said.

  “I loved it. But I always knew New York was where the best ballet was. If I could have grown up going to performances, I think I would have died.”

  Reed laughed. “I hate to sound uncultured, but my friends and I weren’t much for going to the ballet when I was in high school.”

  “Heathens. What did you do instead?”

  “Fishing,” he said without missing a beat. “Every weekend, every summer, whenever the weather was good.” He paused. “Usually when it was crap, too. My dad had a boat, so…”

  He looked out the window, and he didn’t have to say the rest. Talia traced her fingers along the ocean that raged up his forearm to the foaming waves of his biceps, all the blues and greens and grays he carried with him. She squeezed his hand.

  She wanted to say something about how she was sorry about his dad. That those feelings didn’t have to be things he couldn’t say out loud, even if they were hard to express. That not having the right words didn’t have to mean there were no words at all.

  But they were already pulling into the driveway, and a horde of people were descending upon them.

  She’d thought she’d gotten a good primer in the car, but it was so much more than she’d imagined. Aunts, uncles, cousins, children, Monkey slobbering into her outstretched palm. Just when she’d thought she must have met the whole town by now, more kept coming. And that was only who was staying at the house—they hadn’t even arrived at the party.

  Aaron gave her a kiss on the cheek and grabbed her bag as his wife, Maggie, waved from the porch. She was relieved to see a familiar face—although she quickly told Aaron they’d talk about the wire stuff later. This was supposed to be a fun weekend—not one where Reed went off half-cocked again.

  Reed’s other brothers, Zach and Danny, were easy to pick out, too. They had Reed’s eyes, his jaw, the same square heft of his body. They towered over their mother, Trudy, everyone talking at once.

  “We’re just so glad you made it,” Trudy said, taking Talia by the hand and leading her into the kitchen. “Tell us everything about you.”

  But they’d barely sat down before Talia was whisked away again to get ready with Reed’s aunts and cousins—even if there wasn’t much hope for her toes, especially after the grueling weeks she’d put them through. She had no idea what Reed was up to while she was being pampered and fussed over. She could only wonder if he was getting barraged by the same impossible questions, like how they met and how long they’d been dating.

  “It was an unexpected beginning,” she said evasively. “But everything’s been great.”

  See? It wasn’t like she was going to look into his mother’s eyes and lie.

  And actually, it was great. Reed’s family, his home, his life. By the time they were dressed and on their way to the party, she knew more stories about him than in the entire time they’d lived together.

  Like the time Danny insisted on jumping off the garage roof into a snowbank, so Reed went first and broke his ankle just so Danny wouldn’t try it. Or when Zach fed Monkey the filet mignon meant for Trudy’s birthday, and Reed claimed he was the one who’d done it instead.

  “Of course I didn’t believe him,” Trudy said, choking with laughter. “But he’d have done anything to stop Zach from being punished. At that point, how could I be mad?”

  She could picture the scenes perfectly—Reed as stubborn as ever, protecting his brothers no matter the cost. There was no hiding it now. Her big, tough man was a softie through and through.

  “I’m scared about what they might have said to you,” he said as he held open the car door for her. “I hope you’re still speaking to me.”

  “I learned your dirty secrets,” she said ominously, then winked. “Turns out you’ve always been nice.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek as he drove.

  “Careful,” he warned.

  She kissed him again. “I hate to break it to you, but y
our family already knows you’re not celibate. I thought your mom was going to have a breakdown before she gave up and put us both in your room to sleep tonight. Doesn’t she already think we live together—like, for real?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Her house, her rules. I’m surprised she didn’t make me sleep on the roof. So let’s maybe not have me show up hard for Nana’s birthday bash, yeah?”

  She pulled away, but only slightly. “One kiss on the cheek gets you ready?” She was impressed.

  “Just having you in the car with that lavender stuff in your hair gets me ready,” he said, his eyes locked on the road, hands gripping the wheel like he was trying to bite back the admission even as it clawed its way out.

  She knew she had the sloppiest grin plastered all over her face when they walked into the restaurant. But she couldn’t help it. “I’m going to remember that,” she said as she took his hand and let him lead her inside.

  “Trust me,” he told her under his breath, his eyes scanning the room in that watchful way he had. “It’d be impossible for me to forget.”

  The look he gave her went straight to her heart and made the warmth spread. “I want you, too,” she almost said.

  But the words wouldn’t come. Because they weren’t right. Wanting was too small, too meaningless for what she meant. One look at him hugging his grandma, and suddenly, she knew.

  She was in love.

  The realization was so shocking—and so absolutely right—that she almost had to sit down. But before she could waver, Reed was there, introducing her to a whole new round of relatives gathering around them.

  Everything looked brighter, bolder, more alive with her new eyes. She wanted to grab his arm and dance and spin and revel in every moment of what she was feeling. She wanted to blurt it all out. But there wasn’t time to say “I love you”—not yet.

  The party had already begun.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hours later, Reed peeked down the hallway. Empty, finally. After drinking, dancing, and toasting his grandmother’s health, everyone was at last settled into beds, couches, sleeping bags—some of his cousins were even camping in the yard. He closed the door and turned.