Hearts at Play

by Melissa Foster

  Hugh lowered her hands as he’d done the evening before. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “We all sleep. It’s not like you got drunk and passed out.”

  That would have been more reasonable. Who falls asleep when they’re alone with a man like you?

  “Come on. I made breakfast.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her past the couches to a sparkling white kitchen with earthtone marble countertops and a breakfast room that was surrounded by windows on three sides. The view of the gardens didn’t compare to the warmth that emanated from his hand on her back, causing a pull in her lower regions that until last night she’d done a great job of shutting out.

  “Do you like Belgian waffles?” Hugh pulled out a tall chair by the curved edge of the gourmet island.

  “I love them.” Brianna was sure she was in some kind of time warp. A dream she couldn’t wake up from. This type of man did not just waltz into the life of a woman like her. Brianna noticed photographs on the refrigerator. More candid shots. “Is this your family?” she asked.

  “Yeah, my expanding family.” He pointed to each one as he explained who they were. “This is Treat and his wife, Max. They just got married. Treat’s my oldest brother. And this is Rex with his fiancée, Jade.”

  Holy cow. Even their girlfriends are hot. “They’re a gorgeous couple.”

  “Yeah, they are. They live in Colorado. So do Treat and Max, right near my father’s ranch. And this is my sister, Savannah, with her fiancé, Jack, and my other brother, Josh, with Riley. They all live in New York.” Hugh touched a photo of an incredibly tan and sexy couple. “This is Dane with his girlfriend, Lacy. They live on their boat in Florida but travel a lot. And see the man in the back? That’s my dad. This was taken on Dane’s boat right after Lacy moved in.”

  She noticed how thoughtful Hugh’s voice became as he spoke of his family.

  “So you grew up in Colorado?” Why do I find that sexy?

  “Yup, on a ranch. My father breeds thoroughbreds. Rex and Treat help him on the ranch, but Treat also owns several resorts around the world. He settled back in Colorado when he met Max because she was from a town nearby.”

  “Your whole family is so…attractive.”

  Hugh set a bowl of fruit on the island, then two plates of waffles. “I guess. To me they’re just family. I don’t mean just, as in only. Family is everything to me. I mean I don’t notice the rest—the looks and stuff other people see.”

  “I saw a picture of your family in your room,” she admitted.

  “Yeah, that’s one of my favorite memories. We were having a barbeque in my dad’s backyard with a few relatives and friends for my father’s birthday. That’s my dad’s thing, barbeques. Actually, from what Treat told me, it was something my mom started. She thought the sun filled our souls with happiness or something. Anyway, that day we all had so much fun. We all gathered around, you know, to watch him blow out the candles, and he was making a wish, and Josh asked him what he was wishing for, and all of us at the same time, even my dad, said, Mom.” Hugh shrugged. “Now that I think of it, we probably shouldn’t have laughed. He was serious, and so were we. We know how much he misses her, but it was still funny.”

  “I think that’s so sweet.”

  “What’s your favorite memory?” Hugh asked.

  She shrugged. “I could say the day Layla was born, but it wouldn’t really be true. As wonderful of a moment that it was, it was painful and lonely and filled with mixed emotions. Probably my favorite memory was from when I was eight. It was right before my father left us. He took me somewhere, just me and him. I think it was a park, but I’m not really sure. It looked like a park, but there was a carousel, and he said I could ride it as many times as I’d like. Then we got cotton candy, and I just remember music and thinking that it was such a special day.” She looked down at the counter, remembering the next morning. “I realized later that that afternoon was his way of saying goodbye. He left the next day, and I never saw him again.”

  “Bree, that’s awful.”

  “No, it’s a happy memory. It’s just what came afterward that wasn’t happy. But at least I have that afternoon.”

  She watched Hugh process the heaviness of what she’d revealed, and she felt guilty for telling him, but something told her that he wanted to know the truth, not a fabrication of her happiest memory.

  He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. “You’re right. At least you have that afternoon, and even if there’s something not so happy afterward, he gave you that memory to cherish.”

  And there it was, the reason he needed to know. So she could see how he reacted. Now she felt validated in continuing to hold that afternoon in the high regard she always had without feeling like she shouldn’t. Her mother saw that afternoon for what it was. A big show so his little girl would always think of him in a happy light. Brianna knew it, too, but she didn’t care. She wanted to see him in that light. It was easier than seeing him as the man who left without anything bigger to block out the hurt.

  “Would you like some coffee? Juice?” Hugh moved comfortably in his bare feet and he spoke easily, as if they’d been having breakfast together forever.

  “Either’s fine, thank you. Can I do something to help?” She stepped down from the tall chair, and Hugh smiled.

  “Don’t be silly. Sit. Relax. I never get to cook breakfast. It’s a treat for me.” He set a glass of orange juice and a mug of coffee before her. “French vanilla, hazelnut? Milk? What’s your pleasure?”

  Your lips on mine again. “Mmm. French vanilla would be delicious.” She rarely splurged on flavored creamers. “Do you have Sweet’N Low or sugar?”

  “Both.” He set out a little ceramic bowl with several different types of sweeteners in it.

  “I feel like I’m in a restaurant,” she teased.

  “You can thank my sister, Savannah, for that. She hired a woman who cleans the house and keeps my schedule. When I’m in town, she makes sure the house is fully stocked.” Hugh handed her a glass bottle of maple syrup.

  “Your sister did that for you? Now I do wish I had a sister.” She laughed, but Hugh’s economic status was so far out of her league that even hearing about his lifestyle seemed unreal.

  “Savannah thinks I need taking care of. She worries about all of us. I guess as the only girl, and without our mom around, she probably feels a sort of obligation.”

  Brianna noticed his eyes soften when he spoke of his family. I have to stop noticing things about you.

  “What time do you have to be at work today?” he asked.

  “Ten.” She took a bite of a waffle. “Hugh, these are amazing. Thank you.”

  “I have an appointment at ten, so you can either borrow a car or I can drop you off. Didn’t you say you wanted to buy Layla a birthday present today?” He finished his waffles and dished fruit onto his plate.

  You remembered. “Yeah. I need to do that, but I’m sure I can take a bus to the mall.” She couldn’t eat more than a few bites.

  “Nonsense. How late are you working? I didn’t even know bars opened at ten in the morning.” He pushed his plate to the side while he finished his coffee.

  “I’m not working at the bar this morning. I’m helping my friend Claude in his studio. I should be out by one or so.” She stood to clear the dishes, and Hugh stood as well. He took the dish from her hands and began washing it while Brianna cleared the glasses.

  He rotated away from the sink, and she knocked into his arm. “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling heat crawl up her chest.

  “I’m not.”

  His dark eyes stole her breath, and when he brushed her hair from her cheek, she shivered.

  “Bree,” he whispered.

  She was rooted to the floor by his sensuous gaze. Her pulse sped up. When he ran his hands up her arms and then took a long, slow stroke back down, Brianna threw caution to the wind. She lifted up on her tiptoes, but the distance to his lips
was still too great. Hugh slipped his hands beneath her arms and lifted her onto the counter, then pushed himself between her knees and took her face in his hands. Oh, how I love the feel of your hands on my face. Leave them there forever. Please.

  “Bree,” he said between heavy breaths. “May I kiss you?”

  She reached behind his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. His lips were warm and tender. Every caress of his tongue sent a pulse of heat between her legs. And when he slipped his hand beneath her hair and cupped the back of her head, then deepened the kiss, all the scary thoughts about his job fell away. His hand found her waist, and in one swift and gentle move, he pulled her to the edge of the counter, his chest pressed against hers, the bulge beneath his zipper against her center. He tasted so sweet, like syrup and something more—a taste that was all his own. A taste she’d never forget. When they drew apart, they were both breathing heavily.

  Come back. Please come back and kiss me again. She slid her hands to his chest, feeling the hammering of his heart against her palms.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. A touch she’d already come to relish.

  “Bree,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” He looked down at his formidable erection.

  She could barely think past her own thundering heart.

  He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I love kissing you, but I gotta stop or I’m not going to be able to.”

  Then don’t. Her brain told her he was right, but her body craved his touch. She desperately wanted to feel the muscles that teased her from behind his soft cotton shirt and—Oh God!—it had been so long since she’d been with a man. Her private parts were aching to remember the sensation of having a man’s hard length buried inside her.

  He wrapped her in his arms and pressed his chest to hers again; then he gathered her hair in one hand and kissed her cheek. “How about I drive you to Claude’s?” He kissed her neck. “Then we can shop for Layla’s gift together.”

  His hot breath sent a shiver down her back. She didn’t want to be away from him for a second. “Yes,” she whispered, and looked at him with what she hoped was a seductive expression and not some failed attempt that made her look stupid. He still held her hair in his hand, and Brianna’s visceral need took over. She pressed her lips to his and buried her hands in his thick hair, pulling him into a rougher, hungrier kiss and savoring every hard swipe of his tongue. The sting of his fist clutching her hair heightened her desire, and when he reached one hand beneath her bottom and the other around her waist and lifted her up with his powerful arms, Brianna instinctively wrapped her legs around his body. His mouth left hers and found her chin, as he licked and nipped his way down her neck. She arched back, wanting to feel his mouth on every part of her. He licked a sensual line across her collarbone, and Brianna thought she was going to lose her mind. He carried her to the couch and lay down on top of her, tasting her shoulder, her breastbone, and stopping just shy of her bra.

  His hand slipped beneath her sweater, and he rubbed across her rib cage with a slow, deep caress. She arched her back, urging him to touch her breast. His hand grazed the underside of her bra, and he pulled his lips from hers.

  “Bree, I could make out with you forever.”

  She felt like she was dying of thirst and he was a river of fresh water. She couldn’t get her fill. Brianna kissed him again—harder, deeper, hungrier—then took his lower lip in her teeth and drew back slowly, before releasing it and dragging her tongue across the ache she knew she’d left. His eyes narrowed, and impossibly, became even darker. They were both breathing so hard she thought their breath would fill the room.

  He pressed another kiss to her lips and shook his head. “You’re not that girl, Bree. I want you more than I’ve wanted any woman, but…”

  “Not what girl?” She couldn’t think straight. What the hell?

  He wrapped his arms beneath her shoulders and looked into her eyes. She loved being in his arms, pressed beneath his body.

  “You have a twelve-year-plan,” he said in a serious voice. “We can’t do this. We have to think about Layla.”

  “We?” Her voice cracked.

  He nodded. “Of course. Layla owns half of your heart. Anyone in your life has to think of both you and Layla.”

  Why do I love that you didn’t say, Your daughter? She hated that he was right. She couldn’t throw away her plan and Layla’s stability for a quick lay. But if he was a quick lay, would he have stopped? As she looked into his eyes, she knew he was anything but a quick lay. He looked at her like somehow during the past fifteen hours she’d become his whole life. I’ve lost my mind. I’m thinking with a sex-starved brain. Shit.

  He lifted himself off of her and sat down as she righted herself beside him on the opulent sofa. He rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, Brianna. I don’t know what came over me. I just…Every time I kiss you, I want to kiss you more, but you're such a loving mother. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

  That should have been me. What kind of a mother am I if I was ready to fall into bed with him after one night? Of all people, I know the risks. She didn’t know how to respond. Thank you? You’re right? Forget my plan and take me, please? Even though he was doing the right thing for both of them, his rejection still stung.

  “It’s my fault. Gosh, Hugh. I haven’t even kissed a man since Layla was born, and here I was ready to…well, you know. I’m sorry. You were so kind to arrange to have my car fixed and to allow me to sleep last night—which I still feel really bad about—and then to stop me from making a big mistake.” She shook her head, and when she looked up, she recognized the hurt in his eyes. “I don’t mean a big mistake like sleeping with you would be a big mistake. I can only imagine…well…never mind. What I meant was that…” She sighed. “I suck at this. I’m a bartender and a mother, and you’re a gorgeous, famous, race car driver. The mistake would have been yours, not mine.”

  He cupped her cheeks again and guided her face to his. “Is that what you think? That I stopped us because I didn’t want to get tangled up with you because you’re a bartender and a mother?”

  She shrugged.

  “Brianna.” He narrowed his eyes. “Bree, what’s your last name?”

  “My last name?”

  He nodded. “I just realized that I don’t know it.”

  “Heart.”

  Hugh smiled, and his eyes lit up. “Heart? Brianna Heart?”

  She nodded.

  “I love that,” he said. His smile faded, and when he spoke, his serious tone had returned. “Brianna Heart, I stopped kissing you because I do want to get tangled up with you, and because of that, we need to consider your twelve-year-plan and, of course, Layla.”

  He moved his hand from her cheeks, and she wished he’d put them right back. “Hugh, you’re a great guy, but…” Don’t say it. Just shut up and don’t ruin this.

  “But?” He sat up straighter.

  The life you lead isn’t conducive to raising a child. But then again, you didn’t say you wanted to raise my child. You just wanted to get tangled up with me. What does that mean? Sex? Just sex? If so, why consider Layla? Ugh! She’d been out of the dating scene for too long. She needed Kat to interpret for her.

  “Brianna, but what?” he asked again.

  She saw the worry in his eyes, but she had no idea how to tell him what she was thinking. “But my life is complicated. It’s busy, and I barely get time to breathe—or sleep, as you saw last night. I don’t want to bring you down.”

  He took her hand in his. “You light me up, Bree, not bring me down. Can’t you see that? Let’s just see how things go. We’ll take it day by day. I’m here through next weekend, so we have plenty of time.”

  “Next weekend?” She felt the pit of her stomach drop. Plenty of time? “Where are you going?” What am I doing? Stop liking him!

  “Daytona. Then I have time off again.”

  Daytona. This can never work. Ugh! Why do I want this to work so badly?

  “H
ey, Bree. You okay?”

  No. I suck. I really like you. “Yeah, fine.” She pushed to her feet. If she was going to create distance, she had to do it now. “We should probably go. I need to go home and shower before work.”

  “Hey.” He went to her and took her hand in his. “I’m a really good listener. Please tell me why you look sad.”

  She looked away. “Can you please stop being romantic…and sweet…and looking at me like that?”

  He laughed. “Like what?”

  I can’t do this. I just got carried away. She pulled back her shoulders and feigned a smile, hoping Hugh wouldn’t realize it was nothing more than false bravado as she weeded through her hormones and convinced herself that she had to stick to her original plan. Twelve years isn’t so long—is it? Oh God! It never was until I met Hugh. “Never mind.” She sighed loudly. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. I like you. I haven’t let myself even think about liking a guy in—”

  “Years, I know. But if you like me, then why do you look like I killed your pet?”

  She wrestled with the truth. Because I’m too confused to think straight. You travel all the time and have all those groupies all over you. You’ll get bored of my life. You’ll hate having a child around all the time, and most of all, I can’t bring you into our lives and have Layla worry that you’ll leave—and I don’t want that worry either. “Because you’re leaving at the end of next week.” She hated how deflated she sounded, but it was exactly how she felt, as if she were given wings and began to fly and then suddenly the wings were whisked away and she was left floating aimlessly down to a painful reality.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “I know. But the more time I spend with you, the more time I’m going to want to spend with you.” Why am I bothering to tell you? I need to stop wanting you.

  “Well, then, we’ll just have to make that happen.”

  Hugh put his arms around her again and she wished he’d never brought up her twelve-year-plan. If he hadn’t, she’d be naked beneath him instead of convincing herself that she should never see him again.