Beware of Doug

by Elaine Fox

  Megan took a deep breath, and Lily felt immediately embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I know you’re not a psychiatrist, I shouldn’t burden you with this.” She grabbed her purse off her shoulder and unzipped it. “What do I owe you for Doug?”

  Megan placed a hand on her arm and squeezed. “Lily, relax,” she said and smiled. “I was just thinking about what to say. And I happen to have a free half hour right now, so why don’t we go into the house and have some coffee?”

  Lily sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “That would be great.”

  Megan put Doug back in the crate—despite his whining protest—let her receptionist know where she’d be, and they went through the clinic’s back door. They crossed a short outdoor walkway and went into the house that was Megan’s father’s. Megan had lived there, too, when she’d taken over her father’s veterinary practice, until she’d met Sutter, had his baby, and moved into his mansion on Washington Avenue.

  Half a pot of coffee stood in the coffeemaker in the big country kitchen, and Megan pulled out a plate of cookies to go with it.

  “Oreos okay?” she asked with a grin, placing them on the table between them.

  “Too good,” Lily said. She picked one up and twisted it apart.

  Megan moved back to the refrigerator, took out a small carton of cream, and brought a sugar dispenser back to the table with her along with a couple of spoons.

  “Look, Sutter and I jumped way too quickly into the physical part of our relationship, and everything after that was catch-up,” Megan said, stirring cream into her coffee. “So I’m thinking this slow pace probably isn’t such a bad thing. You have a chance to really get to know Gerald before doing the one thing that distracts you most effectively from understanding his personality.”

  Lily looked up. “You don’t think the physical part says something about their personality?”

  Then again, what had she gleaned about Brady from that startling kiss the other night? Except that he was a fabulous kisser.

  And an opportunist, Lily added to herself. He’d come over and was able to take advantage of her aroused state without a moment’s hesitation.

  Though he hadn’t taken the advantage he could have, she remembered hotly. He’d left at the exact moment she’d been ready to haul him up to her bed.

  Why had he come over in the first place? she suddenly wondered.

  “Well, sure,” Megan went on. “It says something. And God, for me it was like a long drink after a deep drought.” She laughed. “But it was hard, after that, separating what was physical passion and what was love. We had to backtrack quite a bit.”

  Lily sighed. “I know all about confusing love and passion. I don’t think I’m doing that here.” She blushed, realizing Megan didn’t know she was talking about Brady, and poured way too much sugar into her coffee. “But here’s the thing, I’ve known Gerald for two years, since he joined Daddy’s firm. And the lack of passion, well, it does make me wonder about the emotions he does or doesn’t have.”

  Did that mean she thought Brady—with all his physical passion—had feelings for her? No, certainly not.

  “But you haven’t known him in this context,” Megan countered. “Look, I know it’s hard, but he keeps asking you out, right? So he’s interested. Let him go at his pace and see what happens. That’s my advice.” She laughed. “Such as it is. I’m not sure you can call dating advice from the unwed mother of a one-year-old particularly sound.”

  Lily smiled. “You and Sutter were made for each other. Everyone can see it. I just wish it were as obvious for me.”

  “It’s never obvious from the inside. And it definitely didn’t feel obvious to me. Or him.” Megan shrugged and blew on her coffee. “So when do we get to meet him, anyway? Why don’t you invite him to my party? Georgia’s bringing a date, you know.”

  Lily took a sip of her coffee and felt it scald the back of her throat. She coughed. “When does Georgia not have a date?”

  Megan grinned. “Yeah, but this time she’s calling the guy a date. Not just another bed buddy.”

  Lily laughed. Megan’s party would be perfect to introduce Gerald, but…would Brady be there? How could she ask, without arousing suspicion?

  “That’s a good idea. I think I will invite Gerald,” Lily said, imagining Brady and Gerald in the same room. She had to talk to Brady, that was all there was to it. Had to straighten this mess out before it got any more complicated. So they’d slipped up, shared a kiss. It wasn’t too late to make clear that she was not interested in him in…that way. Although, what with the way he’d left with her still practically clinging to his chest the other night, her interest wasn’t exactly the issue.

  Still, she could make it the issue, and that would solve all her problems at once. Act like she was the one who wasn’t interested—and she wasn’t!—and Brady would understand that his decision to leave despite the heated circumstances was just what she had wanted, too.

  Oh what the hell, she thought, just ask. It isn’t as if Megan can read my mind.

  “Is Brady going to be there?” she asked.

  Megan looked up, eyes alight. “As a matter of fact, he is. Isn’t that great?”

  Lily swallowed over a lump of dread in her throat. Good God, had she tipped her hand without knowing it?

  “And I know just what you’re thinking,” Megan said.

  Lily’s blood pressure leapt into the stratosphere and she gripped her coffee cup hard enough to scald her fingers through the ceramic. “You do?”

  Megan nodded, smiling smugly.

  Holy God, Lily thought, maybe she can read minds.

  “Because I’m thinking the exact same thing,” Megan said. “He’s perfect for Penelope!”

  Who cared? For God’s sake, who in the world cared if Megan set Penelope up with Brady? Because there was nothing going on with her and Brady, Lily thought.

  She walked in her front door with Doug in her arms and slammed it shut behind her.

  Except that something had gone on, in a way. Which begged the question. Did she tell Penelope about the kiss, and if so, when? Before she got introduced to the pilot? After? Never?

  Or maybe she should tell Megan. Megan could be discreet, Lily knew, and Megan would speak her mind, tell Lily if she thought it was something that should be disclosed. But then, if it was something to be disclosed, then by the time she told Penelope that would up the number of people who knew about the encounter to three. Well, four if you counted Brady. Which Lily was desperately trying not to do. In fact, somewhere in her heart of hearts she hoped he’d forgotten all about it. Though in her brain of brains she knew that was ridiculous.

  She put Doug on the floor and watched him totter off on uncertain feet toward his water bowl. He was not feeling well, she could tell. But Megan had assured her he would be fine, so she was resolved not to worry. She was, however, going to get his crate out and settle him down for a while to digest and think about what he’d done.

  After setting him up in what she thought of as his sickbed, she went back to the front hall and picked up the pillowcase she’d laid on the table with her purse.

  She unfolded it and held it up in front of her. It was a nice print, if masculine, decent thread count. She laid a palm against it, thinking this is his pillowcase, from his bed, where he sleeps… It seemed a very intimate thing to have in her possession, considering how little she knew him. Their relationship, if it could be called that, was an odd mixture of unfamiliarity and intimacy. She had felt his body, touched his skin, been naked before him, and yet she knew him not at all, had never even seen the inside of his half of the house since he moved in.

  She lifted the pillowcase to her nose and inhaled. Despite the fact that it had held an angry Doug, it still smelled like laundry soap. She tried to picture Brady doing laundry, folding this pillowcase. Then her thoughts strayed to Brady laying his head on it. He probably slept naked, she thought, he seemed like the type. She could picture his well-defined chest, his round muscular shoulder
above the edge of a sheet like this, his straight brown hair mussed from sleeping, his—

  A knock sounded on the door.

  She dropped the pillowcase. She really needed to stop hanging out in this hallway. Bending down, she plucked the pillowcase off the floor, laid it on the table, and reached for the doorknob.

  Brady Cole stood in the doorway, larger than life.

  She also had to stop thinking about him. Every time she did he showed up.

  “I thought you had a flight,” she said, then grimaced at her own accusatory tone.

  Other than his brief visit to her classroom that day, it was the first time she’d seen him since The Kiss. What with being here, right at the scene of the crime, she wasn’t sure what or how to feel about seeing him now.

  Brady looked taken aback. “I did. It was pushed back to tomorrow.” He shrugged. “Life of an on-call pilot.”

  She shook her head, pushing one side of her hair away from her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just…well, with Doug and all…I guess I’m embarrassed about what he did.”

  Not to mention what she had done, with Brady, right here in this hallway.

  Brady put a hand on the door frame and leaned. “That’s one reason I came by. How is he? I wanted to make sure Megan wasn’t just trying to make me feel better. He’s going to be okay, right?”

  “He’ll be fine. You should know that Megan is invariably honest. It’s one of her most dependable qualities.”

  He exhaled. “Good. I was worried there for a while. He didn’t look good when I found him.”

  “He looks okay now,” she said. “I’ve put him in his crate for a while. To sleep it off.” She laughed wryly. “But I hope your motorcycle will be okay. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that, and of course I’ll reimburse you the cost of the seat. Doug, he’s, well, temperamental about men. I probably should have warned you, but he’s never been so destructive before. I promise you, it won’t happen again.”

  “I hope not, for his sake,” Brady said, with a lopsided smile.

  A smile that for some reason turned Lily’s heart upside down, it looked so boyish and sweet. Maybe he would be right for Penelope, she thought. Dammit.

  “When I looked outside and saw him,” Brady continued, “his belly was blown up like a beach ball. Then I saw the seat, and, well…I thought that was it. How does a little dog like that consume so much cowhide?”

  “Apparently he doesn’t do it very well,” Lily said. “But here I have you standing on the porch. Why don’t you come in. Can I get you some iced tea or something?”

  He hesitated, and she wished she hadn’t said anything, though she was desperate to get them away from this spot, the very spot where…

  “All right,” he said, and stepped across the threshold. “Listen, I also wanted to talk about the other night. I hope you don’t mind my bringing it up. I just thought we should clear the air.”

  Lily swallowed hard and turned, heading down the hall toward the kitchen. “The other night?” She squinched her eyes shut at how ridiculous that sounded, but kept her back to him. “You mean when you kissed me?”

  Damn. That sounded accusatory again. But he had kissed her, hadn’t he? It hadn’t been the other way around, had it?

  Her face burned. Maybe she had kissed him. How long could she keep her back to him? Long enough for this four-alarm blush to fade? And how long would that take—a week?

  “Uh, yeah,” Brady said. “The night I kissed you. And walked away from it.”

  Ah, so that was it. He thought she was upset he’d walked away. Well, she had been, at the moment. Then she’d been relieved. Hugely relieved.

  “Have a seat.” She motioned to the stools tucked against the center island and opened the refrigerator door. Maybe she could leave her head in there for a while, until it returned to its normal color. Unfortunately, the pitcher of tea was right in front.

  She grabbed it, then turned to the cabinets for some glasses, hearing the stool scrape on the floor as Brady, presumably, sat down.

  She turned back to the freezer for some ice cubes. This was working out well, maybe she’d never have to face him.

  “Lily,” Brady said.

  His voice was low and sent a thrill up her spine. What was it about that slight huskiness that made it so sexy? It couldn’t have been more different from Gerald’s crisp tones, and yet it made her skin tingle whenever she heard it.

  “Yes?” she replied, cracking the ice cubes out of the tray.

  “This is awkward,” he muttered.

  She paused and stared at the ice cubes in front of her. Did he think he was having to break something to her gently? Was he afraid she’d fallen for him? Did he expect her to go postal like that Tricia woman? Is this what he had done to her?

  “It doesn’t have to be awkward,” she said, her voice higher than usual. She turned and faced him, gripping the counter behind her with both hands. “I hope you don’t think—that is, I really don’t—Brady, that night was a mistake. I’m sorry to say it, but you caught me at a weak moment. I—I’m involved with somebody else already. And I don’t know what came over me that night, I was just…it…The bottom line is, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t lead you on.”

  Brilliant, she thought, let him think she was the one worried about an undue attachment.

  He let her stumble through that whole speech, looking at her all the while with those hazel eyes, and the expression in them was somehow…kind.

  “No, Lily.” He smiled, but to her it looked sad. Or was that pitying? “I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to apologize for days, and just—haven’t known how to do it.” He shrugged and looked at her with his mouth quirked up on one side. “I’m a coward at heart. You should know that.”

  Lily slumped against the counter. “You’re not a coward. I’ve been wanting to say something, too, and I haven’t either. Though I guess that could mean we’re both cowards.”

  He chuckled, and she smiled.

  “Weird, though, huh?” she said. “That it happened? I mean, something got into us both at the same time. I’ve never had anything like that happen before.”

  The moment she said it she was sorry. It sounded as if she were asking if it had happened to him before, and the fact was she really, really didn’t want to know if it had.

  He looked down at the counter, and she could swear he looked ashamed.

  She turned back to the ice-cube tray behind her. They sat in little pools of water in their squares. She plucked them out with her fingertips.

  “Do you take sugar in your tea?” she asked. “Or lemon? Or both? Most people around here serve sweet tea, but that’s a little too much sugar for some people. So I just make it unsweetened and let people put their own sugar in.”

  She was babbling, she knew, but it was better than letting that awkward silence reign.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Lemon, I guess, if you’ve got it.”

  “Sure.” She went to the refrigerator, glad to have something else to do. She pulled a lemon from the drawer and got out the cutting board. Sliding a knife from the block on the counter, she said, “So where are you flying?”

  At the same time, however, Brady said, “There was one other thing I wanted to talk about.”

  Lily turned her head and glanced at him. Were his cheeks red? “Sure. Go ahead.”

  Please. Change the subject. She turned back to the lemon, slicing slowly and carefully.

  “It’s kind of related, actually. There was a reason I stopped by that night.” He cleared his throat, and she pictured him looking at the counter again. “Though I never got around to it.”

  She squeezed lemon into the glasses, shooting one wedge across the counter to bounce off the wall and onto the floor. She closed her eyes, then opened them, picked up another wedge like that was just how you did it—one for the floor, one for the glass—poured the tea, and turned around, placing a glass in front of him.

  She downed four big swallows o
f hers. For some reason her mouth was Sahara dry.

  “I wanted to explain about Tricia,” he said, looking back up at her, his eyes concerned. “But now I find it’s even more awkward than usual. Because of…of what happened…”

  “Brady, we’ve already sorted that out,” she said, proud of herself for sounding firm. “Let’s not give it another thought. Really.”

  He took a deep breath, sent her a tentative smile, and said, “Okay, then. Here’s the story with Tricia.”

  He proceeded to tell her about an indiscriminate past—though he glossed it over, she was sure it was a past filled with easy women, random liaisons, and generally unexamined indulgences—and how it finally caught up with him in the form of the mentally ill Tricia, a woman who had delusions about him, herself, and their relationship. Delusions to the point that her parents had actually committed her to an institution, albeit temporarily.

  Throughout the story Lily began to feel strange. Though he implied that he’d been every bit as dissolute as she would have imagined, despite all his self-flagellation and embarrassment, or perhaps because of it, Lily began to see him in a new light. He was not squeaky clean and admirable—not ethically constant, as Gerald was—but he was someone who was aware of and struggled against his flaws. He was someone striving with all his might to do better, to do good. He was someone intent on not hurting anyone ever again.

  Even though he’d screwed up pretty thoroughly with her the other night—just as she had with him, she reminded herself—he was obviously trying now to make it right. Though she didn’t particularly like that his backsliding had involved her, she respected his resolve to become a better person, to not let the setback negate the whole plan.

  And, as surprising as it seemed in the circumstances, she began to like him, very much.

  Seven

  “So now you know,” Brady finished, exhaling. He rubbed his hands over his face and up through his hair. Then he rested his elbows on the counter and looked at her. “That’s my history and that’s why I’ve decided…well, this might sound ridiculous. I’m embarrassed to even say it, but the fact is I’ve decided that I can’t—or I should say ‘I don’t want to,’ my brother’s always after me to own these things.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s why I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now. No matter how attractive I find them.” He shot her a conspiratorial smile. “It’s kind of a…a date diet.”