by Elaine Fox
“Blueberry muffins,” Megan said. “Why don’t you stay and have one? Lily will be down in a minute, and you can see for yourself she’s feeling better. She certainly has a lot more color this morning.”
He was sure she did. He could picture it, remembering vividly how she’d looked last night, just after they’d both reached their zeniths. Flushed and bright-eyed, tousled, and incredibly sexy.
He couldn’t imagine sitting across from Lily this morning, the first morning after what he hoped was only the first time they’d make love, and trying to make conversation with her friends present. It would be awkward, and frustrating.
Not to mention that she’d kicked him out last night under less-than-agreeable circumstances, so the discomfort would be doubled. He’d been hoping to clear that up this morning.
Brady shook his head at Megan. “No, that’s okay. I just brought by some bagels and cream cheese. Some orange juice. Coffee. Pretty much what you brought.” He handed the bag to Megan and backed toward the door. “Just tell her I was asking about her.”
“Sure,” Megan said. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to know you checked in.”
“You come back now if you change your mind,” Georgia said.
“Will do.” Brady flashed them each a smile and went out the back door, closing it softly behind him.
“Mm-mm-mm,” Georgia said to Megan when he was gone. “The plot thickens.”
Megan looked at her speculatively and nodded. “It certainly does.”
Fifteen
The trap was laid, the hiding place established, now all he had to do was wait.
Brady felt like the biggest fool under the sun, but he was not going to let this dog win. It was a resolution that was important for more than just retrieving his shoes, but for establishing a future that was not ruled by twenty-five pounds of canine hostility.
He settled down on his kitchen chair, one eye on the window through which he could see the tasty new loafer lying in wait in the center of the lawn. Brady was no fool. He knew Doug was not going to fall for something too obvious, but he’d see if things happened naturally. At first.
He inserted his iPod earplugs, then pressed the play button. He could wait all day for the beast, if necessary. He wasn’t flying until Wednesday, and this book he’d downloaded was actually getting kind of interesting, he could hardly believe it. When he’d started it he thought it would last him the rest of his life the way he kept falling asleep. Then he’d started running with it, and the plot had picked up.
Now he had to see whether Emma was going to fall for the double-talking Mr. Churchill or not.
He put his feet up on the windowsill and leaned back in his seat, the front two legs of the chair off the ground. Between his fingers were two thin strands of fishing line. He closed his eyes and listened.
His feet were just starting to tingle from being up too long when the line in his left hand twitched. He opened his eyes and gently eased the chair back onto all fours. He leaned forward, gazing out the window.
Sure enough, Doug was sniffing at the shoe, pawing it, making it move.
Brady had made sure it was one of the new ones he’d bought for the party. If Doug was clever enough to pick one shoe from each pair in his closet—which Brady had to admit was hard to believe, though he believed it—then he was clever enough to know if he had already taken the match to the one in the yard.
Doug sniffed again, then dipped a shoulder and rolled onto the loafer, sliding off the toe and rolling over onto it again. After a few minutes of this, he appeared to get bored and wandered away.
Brady was prepared for this. A few feet away from the shoe was a feather, a long sturdy feather onto which Brady had tied the second strand of fishing line. With the feather in what he thought was Doug’s peripheral vision, he tugged at it.
Doug’s head turned. Brady waited. Doug looked away. Brady tugged the feather again, and Doug lunged, trapping it between his front paws. Or so he thought. Brady gave another tug, loosening the thing from the dog’s grasp, and moved it closer to the shoe. Doug gave a yip and lunged again. Brady couldn’t help laughing. This was fun, he thought. And he had to admit, the little guy was sort of cute, in an ugly, pain-in-the-ass kind of way.
Doug got his teeth on the feather, and Brady pulled the string again. The now somewhat shredded-looking feather moved toward the shoe. Pulling the other line, Brady moved the shoe the moment the feather reached it, dragging it a few inches.
Doug looked exhilarated, snapping at the feather, then, when the shoe moved, leaping on that. He had just picked the shoe up in his jaws and turned toward the house, when Lily came out in the backyard.
“Doug, no! What have you got there?”
“Dammit,” Brady muttered under his breath. He reached down and turned off his iPod.
“No! I said. Drop that,” she continued, in a voice that would not have convinced anyone not to do anything.
Five more minutes with Doug carrying the loafer and Brady would have been able to follow the fishing line to wherever it was Doug had hidden the rest of his shoes. Now he was going to have to go outside and explain to Lily why he was tormenting her dog by dragging his footwear around the yard.
Unless she didn’t notice the fishing line, he thought hopefully.
Lily reached Doug and bent down to pick him up. “Bad dog!”
Then she noticed the shoe. She straightened, shielding her eyes with one hand, and glanced up at his side of the house. He ducked away from the window. He was really getting deep into crazy territory now, but he couldn’t help it. He’d thought she wasn’t home. He wasn’t prepared to explain what he was doing. Not only did the attempt show the embarrassing amount of free time he had on his hands, but it hadn’t even worked.
“Just go back in the house, Lily,” he muttered under his breath, “no need to look at the shoe.”
She picked up the shoe. Then she tilted her head and felt the fishing line. He closed his eyes. Damn, damn, and damn.
She lifted the line and followed it with her eyes, straight to the kitchen window. He stood up slowly and waved.
Placing Doug on the ground, she gathered the shoe in one hand and the line in the other and reeled herself in. Doug bounced at her heels, delighted at this new element to the game.
Brady watched her get closer and closer to the back porch until she was standing in front of the open window, glaring at him. Doug stood beside her and gave Brady an ominous growl.
Lily looked Brady dead in the eye. “Catch anything?”
Brady sat down on the chair and put his feet back up on the windowsill. He smiled. He was toast.
“A girl, it looks like,” he said. “Bigger fish than I was going for, but I’ll take it.”
She tossed the shoe in the window, followed by the wadded-up ball of fishing line.
“Do you know what might have happened if Doug had eaten any of that string? It could wrap around his intestines and kill him.”
Brady scratched the side of his face. “I did not know that.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t think you’d care if Doug died. I think you don’t like Doug. And I know Doug doesn’t like you. He doesn’t necessarily accuse of you things you haven’t done, however.” She raised a brow.
“I’m telling you, Lily. He took my shoes. And if you’d have let him take that one, I’d have found out where he’s hidden the rest.”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? That’s what this was about? You were trying to outsmart the dog?”
Brady took a deep breath. “Hey, it’s harder than it sounds. Besides, I didn’t have any other choice.”
“Oh my God.” She looked at him in amazement. “Brady, I told you, Doug doesn’t steal shoes. Why are you so hell-bent on proving he does?” She put her hands on her hips.
He lowered his feet to the floor and stood. “I’m hell-bent on getting my shoes back.” He held one finger up. “Hang on a second, I’m coming out.”
“No don’t,” she said quickly
. “Doug’s here.”
Brady sighed. “Lily, how long are you going to be ruled by who that dog likes and doesn’t like? I swear, you coddle him like he’s some old demented relative.”
“Really?” she said archly. “Because I thought I was ruled by who Daddy liked and didn’t like.”
Brady stiffened. “I told you I was sorry about that.”
“But you didn’t say you didn’t mean it.”
“Lily, I don’t want to fight with you. And I’m wondering if you want to fight with me because of what happened last night.”
Her cheeks pinkened. “Let’s see,” she said, “you are out here laying a trap for my dog, I discover it, and now I’m picking a fight because of last night? That is some impeccable logic, Brady. Besides, of all the people in the entire world, I would think you’d be the one to understand last night best of all.”
“What does that mean?” But a sudden pounding in his chest told him he knew what it meant. She was trying to blow it off. She was trying to say that last night was exactly what he’d feared: a one-night stand.
“It means,” she said slowly, “that we got carried away. Just like we did last time. Only this time it went further. It was nothing, I know that. Just a…a lapse, from your date diet. And an error of judgment on my part.”
Brady put a hand on the window frame to lean toward her, then straightened. “This is stupid, I’m coming out there.”
Lily looked down at her dog. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Brady stalked to the kitchen door, opened it, and went out onto the back porch.
Doug was on him like a swarm of bees, growling and snuffling and nipping at the leg of his pants, jumping back as he lost his grip and nipping in again.
He never caught skin, but the message was clear: I’d kill you if I were a Rottweiler.
Brady moved toward Lily, half-dragging Doug along with him.
“I should never have told you about the date diet,” he said when he got close.
Doug growled and braced himself with all fours as he tugged at Brady’s jeans. Brady shifted his weight to that leg, so the dog couldn’t pull his foot out from under him. “I thought we could be friends. If you remember, I wanted to be friends with you, Lily—”
“Sure, after you kissed me. So that I wouldn’t become another Tricia and flip out on you.”
He paused, staring at her. “Is that what you think?”
She threw out a hand. “It’s obvious!”
“No it isn’t. I wanted to be friends first so that I could do something right, for once. So that if you and I did get involved, it wouldn’t be ruined by some stupid beginning.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to ignore the bushwhacking going on at his ankle. “Why are you fighting me on this, Lily? Last night was…amazing. And don’t try to tell me you didn’t feel—”
“What?” she demanded, interrupting him. “What did I feel? Please tell me, Brady, because I honestly don’t know.”
She was suddenly near tears, he realized, and it shocked him. “Lily, please.” He took a step toward her, his hands out, imploring. If he could just take her in his arms…
“No.” She backed up, swallowing hard. “No, let’s not cloud things up with what happens when we get close to each other. I don’t think either one of us is thinking clearly. Especially not when we do things like…like we did last night. And we need to think clearly, get this thing straightened out. I don’t want any repeats of what happened between us last night.”
“Lily, I don’t regret last night for a minute.”
“Well, I do!”
The words were so adamant that even Doug paused from his work and looked at her, dropping Brady’s now-sopping hem.
Lily blinked several times rapidly. “That’s right. I don’t mean to hurt you, but I do regret last night. Because I don’t know what I’m doing. You and I…we’re all wrong. Then there’s Penelope to think about, and Gerald—”
Brady scoffed at the name. “Forgive me if I have no desire to think about Gerald. Besides, you aren’t in love with him.”
She gave him a look that made him wish he could swallow everything he’d just said. “I’m so glad you know my feelings so well. Between you and my father I’ll be all sorted out in no time.”
“I didn’t mean what I said about your father,” Brady said heatedly. “I’m sorry I ever said anything about him at all. So you want to make your father happy. You’re close to him. So what? Who am I to second-guess that?”
“But you see you were right,” she said, her voice rising. “You were right about all of it. I’ve been trying to do what Daddy wants me to for the last fifteen years. Who the hell am I that I can fall in love with a man just because my father wants me to? What kind of woman does that? And how could you want a woman like that, Brady, when all she can think is how bad you would look in that damn picture frame on Daddy’s desk?” She turned half-away and put a hand to her face.
“You think I’d look bad in a picture?” he repeated, confused.
She dropped her hand and looked back at him. “I’m a mess, Brady. You don’t want me. I’m a terrible friend, and I’m selfish and naïve and—and…”
Brady reached out and touched her arm, but she jerked away, backing up another step. She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, but I have to go. You are…too confusing to me right now.”
He sighed. “Lily, please—”
She turned fierce eyes on him. “I mean it. Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.”
He put his hands up. “I’m not.”
She brushed past him and went down the porch steps. “Doug, come,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument. Sure enough, this time the dog obeyed.
Brady watched her go, wondering what on earth to do next.
Doug knew Lily needed him, but he’d had a hard time letting go of the New Guy’s pants. He made Lily unhappy every time they saw each other. It was too bad, Doug was starting to think, because that trick with the shoe and the feather was great. Nobody had ever done anything like that with him before, except Lily.
Doug followed Lily into the house and into the living room. She dropped into a chair and laid her head back against the cushion. Doug sat down beside her, where he could look up into her face and see what she needed.
Her cheeks got wet, and her hands clenched. Doug leaned over and licked her ankle. It usually got her attention, but this time she just sniffed. He wished she’d put the telephone on her face like she sometimes did, do some talking into it. That seemed to make her feel better. He went and got the receiver, trotting back to the chair and jumping with just his front feet onto the seat. He deposited it on the cushion next to her leg and sat back down on the floor, expectant.
She just took it, wiped it on her leg, and sighed. “Oh, Doug. How many times have I got to tell you we don’t play fetch with the phone.”
Doug sat down again, this time very close to her legs, and laid his head on her feet. He looked up at her, certain that she’d figure it out eventually. She was pretty bright, for a human. In the meantime, he’d make her feel better by being next to her, as close as he could get.
Lily woke in the middle of the night from a dream in which a woman—not herself—was screaming Brady’s name. Lily had been running through the halls of her old high school, looking for him, hoping he was all right and fearing he wasn’t.
She opened her eyes in the darkness and heard Doug whine. He was standing on his back legs, looking out the front window.
“Brady… ” The voice sang out again, and Lily realized it hadn’t been a dream, that woman’s voice.
She threw back the covers and got out of bed. Pushing aside the curtains, she looked out onto the front lawn and saw Tricia, standing barefoot in the grass, brushing her flowing blond hair in the moonlight.
Lily glanced back at the clock—3:18. In the morning.
Tricia bent her head back and ran the brush down her hair in a lithe, sensual movement. Her hair looked s
ilken in the pale light.
“Brady Cole, come out, come out, wherever you are! Come out and get me.” Her laughter tinkled through the midnight air. One hand moved to the buttons of her blouse, a sleeveless white shirt that fell to her hips over a flowing white skirt.
Lily’s eyes moved to the houses across the street, looking to see if Tricia had woken anyone else, but nothing stirred, not even a breeze. Tricia danced and spun on the lawn, one hand running the brush through her hair, the other unbuttoning her shirt. She got to the last button and shrugged off the garment, letting it drop to the ground. She wore a tiny, lacy bra that didn’t appear up to the task of containing her voluptuous breasts.
Lily exhaled long and slow. Brady might have had terrible taste, he might have entangled himself with a grossly unstable woman, but it was sure easy to see why. The woman had a body like a Victoria’s Secret model.
“Brady, look what you’re missing!” Tricia’s laugh bubbled out again as she pushed her skirt down her legs into a pile of white fabric on the grass and danced out of it. She spun in a circle in her tiny underthings, her hair flying out behind her.
Lily wondered if she should call him, wake him up. Though how he couldn’t be awake by now, with this woman calling out his name and doing a striptease on the front lawn, was a mystery.
A second later Brady emerged from his house. He wore a pair of shorts and no shirt, and his hair was mussed from sleeping. Lily’s heart climbed into her throat. He was so beautiful.
Unfortunately, so was Tricia.
Beside her, Doug whined and licked her hand.
“No, you’re right,” she said. “It’s ridiculous to feel jealous of a crazy woman.”
She watched Brady approach her on the lawn. His voice was low, but she could hear it because her window was open a crack.
“Tricia, what are you doing here? It’s three o’clock in the goddamn morning. Did you know that?” He glanced furtively back toward the house, his voice much lower than Tricia’s. But when you lived on a street with houses all around, sound tended to bounce, and Lily could hear almost every word.