Hearts at Play

by Melissa Foster

  “We’re in my garage, nowhere near your work. Is it okay if I kiss you now?”

  Instead of answering him, she leaned across the console and pressed her lips to his. He reached over to the passenger seat and scooped her into his arms, pulling her onto his lap and deepening the kiss. He kissed with slow, powerful strokes of his tongue, as if he wanted to savor every second, and the deeper he thrust his tongue, the more it aroused her. She felt so safe in his arms, like he wouldn’t ever let anything hurt her. When they drew apart, she ached for his return.

  “I haven’t made out in a car since I was nineteen.” Hugh kissed her chin. “I kinda like it.”

  He pulled her into another kiss and slid his hand along her hip. Brianna’s brain stopped functioning. She was all senses and desires. His cologne filled the car. The muscles in his thighs were strong and hard beneath her, and his large hand gripped her hip. His other hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her into a rougher kiss. She arched into him, pressing her breasts against his chest. Just as she’d experienced with him earlier, none of it was enough. She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed the stubble of his chin. Then she wrapped her mouth around his neck and sucked, not hard enough to make a mark, but enough to taste him, to feel the rough stubble against her tongue and send a bolt of lust right through her.

  “Bree.” Her name was a heady whisper.

  She felt a rise in his jeans, and she drew back.

  Touch me. Kiss me.

  “You’re driving me crazy. I’m really trying to behave, but you’re testing my willpower.”

  She couldn’t weigh her response or think past right or wrong. All she could manage was, “Good,” and then she took him in another insatiable kiss.

  He reclined the seat, pulling her on top of him and deepening the kiss. Driven by need, she pulled up his T-shirt.

  “Oh my God. Really?” She ran her hands over his six-pack abs.

  Hugh laughed. “I have to stay in shape to race.”

  She kissed his stomach, then looked at him and bit her lower lip.

  “What?” Hugh reached for her.

  “I just want to put my skin against yours.” She lifted her shirt up just enough to expose her stomach and lay down on top of him. She moaned. “God, that feels good.”

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” He buried his hands in her hair and kissed her again. “Jesus, you’re killing me, Bree.”

  Her cell phone rang, and they both froze.

  “Layla.” Brianna sat up, and before she could reach for her purse, Hugh had snagged it and pulled her phone from the side pocket.

  “You promised her. Here.” He thrust her phone into her hand.

  “Hi, baby,” Brianna said.

  Hugh righted the seat beneath them, and when she tried to crawl from his lap, he held her in place. He fixed her shirt so it hung properly and covered her belly.

  “I’ll be there soon, honey. How was the play?” Brianna mouthed, Sorry, to Hugh.

  He mouthed, It’s fine, and ran his hand down the back of her hair. She felt silly sitting on his lap and embarrassed to have been interrupted. There’s no way he’ll want to see me now. She tried to focus on Layla.

  “I’m so happy for you, Layla. Okay, tell Grandma I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I miss you too, baby.” She purposely didn’t look at Hugh, afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. “Okay, see you soon.”

  She ended the call and tried again to move from his lap, but he held her still.

  “How’d she like the play?”

  “She loved it. Hugh, I’m so sorry.” She chanced a glance at him and he was looking at her with warmth and interest, not disappointment. His lips curved up and then he tilted his head to the side.

  “I love hearing you talk to her. Your whole face lights up. There’s no need to be sorry.”

  She struggled free and moved to the passenger seat. Hugh wrinkled his forehead.

  “Why are you in such a hurry to move away from me? I like when you’re close.”

  “I was embarrassed. There we were, making out, and I had to stop to take a phone call.” She shook her head and reached for the door handle.

  “Hey, Bree.” He grabbed her hand. “Layla comes first. I get that. It’s the way it should be. I respect you for it. My father did the same thing with us. I’m not upset, and I’m not some kind of animal driven by sex.”

  “Hugh,” she whispered, “you’re a little too good to be true. I’m waiting for something bad to bite me in the ass.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

  She pushed him playfully away with a little laugh. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, and I’m sort of waiting for the same thing, but right now, I’m not gonna fight it. I like to be with you, and you have a daughter. It’s an easy equation to understand. The more difficult part is, when can I see you again?”

  Brianna pressed her lips together. “That’s the hard part. I have Layla every minute I’m not at work. This weekend was a fluke.” Kat had offered to babysit, but with working so many hours, Brianna would feel guilty leaving Layla after not seeing her all day.

  He nodded. “Okay, well, I have a few things to do throughout the week, but can I come by your work and see you?”

  “Of course, but, Hugh, I know what my life is like, and I know it will seem insurmountable to you. We’ve had more time together since we’ve met than I’ve taken for myself in years. I run from mommying to bartending to working with Claude, and some days I have to check the calendar twice to be sure of the day. Don’t feel pressure to see me just because you were nice to me for a few days.”

  “Brianna, do you know what it feels like to hear that time and time again?”

  It wasn’t the sharpness of his tone that silenced her. It was the hurt in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice softened, and he met her gaze. “I’m not angry, but I keep telling you how I feel about you and you keep pushing me away. If you really want me to walk away, I can do that. But don’t kiss me like that and then shut me out. It’s confusing to me, Bree. I’m not good at games. I’m a cut-and-dry guy. You either want to see me or you don’t. I know you don’t know me that well yet, but I wouldn’t spend the day with you if I didn’t want to. I’m not that nice of a person.”

  Brianna looked down. “I’m sorry. I just—”

  He let out a sigh. “You need to spend time working and with Layla. I’m not asking you not to do those things. I don’t know how we’ll get time together, but do you want to try? Do you want me to call you?”

  “Yes, more than anything.”

  “That’s a start. You must get a lunch or dinner break at work, or have time one morning after you take Layla to school? We could meet for coffee.”

  Brianna felt the minutes—and her perfect fantasy day with Hugh—slipping away. “Call me and I’ll look at my work schedule. I really do want to see you.”

  Hugh climbed from the car and opened her door. He’d been holding her hand all day, and now, as she placed her hand in his, it felt natural. It felt comfortable, and the last thing she wanted to do was walk away.

  He took her in his arms again, and she was glad she’d worn her boots, because the extra three inches brought her that much closer to his lips.

  “I’ll call you. Have fun with Layla.” He kissed her softly.

  “Thank you for everything.” Why does this feel like goodbye forever?

  He walked her to her car and put her bags in the trunk. They found the key in the tailpipe, just where Art said he’d leave it. She climbed in and it started right up. Brianna felt like she’d gone full circle. They’d begun getting close the night her car died, and here she was, feeling like she’d never see him again, no matter what he’d said. She knew how crazy her schedule was, and even as they said goodbye and she tried to work through the options in her mind, she couldn’t find an easy way to fit him in.

  Hugh leaned through the window and kissed her again
. She ran her fingers through his hair, hoping to remember everything about him—just in case.

  Her heart ached as she drove down the driveway, and the lump in her throat that she’d fought against earlier returned with a vengeance. By the time she reached her mother’s house, she felt as if she’d lost her best friend.

  “Mommy!” Layla jumped into her arms at the front door.

  “Hi! Wow. Did you have a great day?” She kissed Layla’s cheek and set her back on the floor. Brianna had grown up in the small rambler, and she loved that her mother had the same plaid furniture and the same funky kitchen table with carved paws at the bottom of each leg. She’d freshened the rooms with paint and new carpeting throughout the years, but the bigger items remained the same. The school photos leading down the hall marked the years of change for Brianna and now for Layla, too.

  “The play was so good! And you should have seen the handsome prince.” Layla pulled her by the hand into the kitchen, where her mother was stirring something in a big bowl.

  “A handsome prince? Tell me all about him.” She bent down and looked Layla in the eye, thinking of her own handsome prince. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and everything he said and did was sincere. Of that she was certain. Brianna had never believed in fairy tales, and now, just the thought of Hugh made her consider her own happily ever after.

  Layla jumped up and down in her sparkly sneakers. “Oh, Mommy! He was tall and so nice to the princess. He brought her flowers, and when he kissed her, the whole stage got bright like the sun!”

  “Wow. Now, that’s a kiss,” Brianna said, thinking of Hugh and how her whole body sizzled when they’d kissed.

  “I hope I meet a prince someday. Do you think I will?” Layla wrinkled her forehead.

  “If, when you’re older, you want to meet a handsome prince, then I’m sure you will, but you are a fine princess all on your own.”

  Layla gasped. “Is that why you call me princess? Because I’ll meet a handsome prince one day?”

  Brianna bristled. That’s not at all what she’d been thinking when she began calling her princess. “Well, no. I call you princess because you’re my princess. My special girl.” She kissed Layla’s forehead, hating that she wasn’t even six and already worried about finding a handsome prince.

  “Look what Grandma’s making!” Layla pulled her toward her mother.

  “Hi, Mom. Thanks for taking her.” She kissed her mom on the cheek and peeked into the bowl. “Brownies?”

  “Uh-huh,” Layla said. “We’re making them because I was so good today.”

  “That sounds great. I’m starved.” She realized that she and Hugh hadn’t eaten anything all day, and she wondered if he was starving, too.

  “Did you have a nice day?” her mother asked. Jean Heart was the same height as Brianna, thicker through the waist, with the same straight, dark hair. In her jeans and sweater, she looked relaxed and happy. But Brianna knew her mother’s mind never rested. Brianna had learned how to be efficient and how to multitask from watching her mother manage their lives, and she hoped she was pulling it off just as well.

  Brianna sighed and leaned against the counter. “Yeah, it was okay.”

  Layla was doing some sort of a jumping game on the tiled floor. “Can I play in the playroom?”

  “Sure. I’ll get you when the brownies are ready.” She watched her scamper away. “Was she okay for you?”

  Her mom poured the brownie mix into a pan and handed Brianna the chocolate-covered spoon. “She’s always good for me.” She put the brownies in the oven.

  “Thanks. I needed this.” She licked the rich deliciousness from the wooden spoon. A poor substitute for sex.

  “Want some tea? I just heated up the kettle.” Her mom pulled two mugs from the cabinet.

  “Sure.” She set the spoon in the sink and sat down at the small kitchen table. “Mom, do you think I’m a good mother?”

  Her mother set a mug of tea in front of Brianna and then sat across from her. She looked at her daughter and smiled, then picked up her mug and sipped the hot tea before answering. Brianna was used to her mother’s careful answers. There was a time when her mother would rattle a quick answer without thinking about it. Much like Brianna, her mother had always worked two jobs, leaving little time for anything other than laundry and cleaning. One day, when Brianna was about twelve, she’d asked her mother why her father left, and her mother had said, Some men can’t take the heat of the kitchen, so they flee the house. That was the day Brianna told her mother—who coincidentally burned more dinners than not—that maybe she should have taken cooking classes so that she could have a father. It was also the last time her mother had given her an off-the-cuff answer. That was one of the reasons Brianna paid full attention to Layla when she spoke to her. She never wanted Layla to feel like anything else in life was more important than her or like she’d made Brianna’s life more difficult. Brianna had made her own life more difficult—and more fulfilled—all in one weekend after college graduation.

  “You’re a remarkable mother. All it takes is one look at Layla to know how well adjusted she is, and if you think that has to do with anything but parenting, you’re wrong. She’s doing well because of you.” Her mother tilted her head and narrowed her brown eyes. “Why?”

  Brianna shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want to be sure I don’t screw her up somehow.”

  Her mother reached across the table and laid her hand on Brianna’s. “You love her too much to do anything that would screw her up. Besides, kids get screwed up all on their own.”

  “What does that mean?” Are you talking about me?

  “Just that you can do your very best and kids can still fall off track for a while. Look at your graduating class from high school. The valedictorian became a heroine addict three years later. You just never know what will happen, so you do your best, and when they leave your house, you pray you raised them well enough to know right from wrong.”

  “Do you think I screwed up myself somehow, Mom?” She slid her hand out from beneath her mother’s, unsettled by the innuendo.

  Her mother sighed and her lips lifted to a soft smile that reached her eyes. She brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear, just like Brianna. “I don’t think you’re capable of screwing yourself up. You love Layla too much. Bree, what’s this about? Is something worrying you?”

  Brianna weighed her answers. She could beat around the bush and maybe in an hour she’d know what her mother thought, but she was too nervous to wait an hour. “I met someone.” She kept her eyes trained on her tea.

  Her mother leaned across the table and whispered, “You did?”

  Brianna lifted her eyes and was surprised to see her mother’s face alit with interest.

  “Brianna Marie, come over here.” She took Brianna’s hand and dragged her to the far corner of the kitchen.

  “Mom!” She stumbled behind her.

  “Out of earshot. Met someone? A man? And?” Her mother touched her arm.

  “Why are you so excited?” Brianna had to laugh. She’d expect that reaction from Kat, but not from her mother.

  “Because I’ve been worried about you. Twenty-eight-year-old women are supposed to date, Bree, and you know how I feel about you making Layla your whole world.”

  Brianna rolled her eyes. “Healthy people have diverse lives. I know, Mom, but you said yourself that I’m a good mother and that Layla’s well adjusted.”

  “She is, and you are. But a little ego boost for you isn’t a bad thing. Is he a good person?”

  That question was the heart of why she adored her mother. She didn’t ask if he had a good job, or if he was attractive. She cared most about the person he was inside, which is where Brianna had learned it from and probably why she was having such a confusing time deciding how to move forward—or if she should move forward—with Hugh. For six years, living a life without complications beyond taking care of her daughter and making ends meet had been easy. No man had been too
kind or too interesting to ignore…and then came Hugh.

  “He’s a remarkably good person.”

  “Oh, Bree!” She wrapped her arms around Brianna. “How did you meet? When have you had time to see him? You worked today.” She tilted her head, looking out of the corner of her eyes at Brianna. “You were working, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, of course. I worked and then we went shopping. Oh, and my car broke down last night.” She leaned against the counter.

  “Oh no. How much is that going to set you back?”

  “It’s not. He…” She paused, wondering what her mother’s reaction would be to what he did for a living. If she was ever going to figure this out, she needed to be honest. “He’s a Capital Series Grand Prix driver and his pit crew fixed it.”

  “Capital Series? A race car driver? How on earth did you meet a guy like that here? I mean, you never go to the track, and I know you don’t hang out at the places in town where the Grand Prix fans hang out.” Her mother crossed her arms and tapped her chin with her index finger.

  “He was in the tavern one night and we talked.” She watched her mother pace the small kitchen.

  “At Old Town? Really? Gosh, I must be way too far removed from that world. I had no idea that those guys hung out there. You’ve never mentioned it.”

  “They don’t, Mom. He avoids those places.”

  “Brianna, I don’t know. He must travel a lot, and what do you really know about him? I mean, guys like that? They scare me a little.” She stopped pacing and looked at her daughter. “I’m not judging him sight unseen, but you’re my little girl. Do you have your eyes open? Does he have women everywhere? I mean, how long is he even here for?”

  “I know, Mom. Believe me. My eyes are wide open. Wide open. He travels, but he said he gets time off soon.”

  “They only race about nine or ten months out of the year or something like that.”