The Mommy Makeover

by Kristi Gold

  Moving the tissue paper aside, Erica reached into the bag and contacted silk. When she drew the item out, she hoped for a nice, tasteful scarf. What she got was an oversize handkerchief with straps. A zebra-striped print handkerchief, no less.

  She held the negligee up, encouraging one stylist to squeal and the rest to applaud, much to Erica’s chagrin. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Honestly, she didn’t, but she couldn’t halt the comment. “This is going to look great on one of my thighs.”

  “Nonsense,” Bette said. “Your clothes are hanging off you, sugar. Why, you could put a marching band in your britches.”

  Bette was well known for her exaggerations, but that one topped them all. True, Erica had lost a few inches, something she’d learned when she’d spent her lunch break shopping for a special outfit for tonight. She’d even bought a skirt a whole size smaller. But that didn’t mean she could actually wear this naughty nighty, or stick a marching band in her pants. Besides, she didn’t have any cause to wear sexy lingerie, and no one to wear it for, unless…

  “If you haven’t gotten laid yet, honey, this should do the trick.”

  Leave it to Bette to contribute to Erica’s already intense mortification.

  When a rap came at the door, Erica looked up to find the new appointment clerk standing immediately inside the break room. “What’s up, Joanie?” Bette asked.

  “There’s this great-looking guy here asking for Erica. Did someone hire a stripper?”

  Clearly Kieran had arrived. “He’s not a stripper. He’s my…Never mind.”

  “Send him back,” Bette said. “I’ll convince him to take off his clothes.”

  Erica shoved the negligee back into the bag. “You’ll do no such thing. And tell him to wait for me in the reception area, Joanie. I’ll be right with him.”

  Bette winked. “Big night with the pizza man?”

  “I’m not going to answer that.” And she didn’t. Instead, she breezed out of the break room and sprinted up the stairs to the therapy room to retrieve her duffel along with the garment bag holding her new outfit. She shoved the dubious gift into the duffel, where it would remain until she arrived safely back home. That was the last thing she needed, giving Kieran the impression she was packing seduction wear.

  After returning to the first floor, Erica discovered Kieran leaning against the front desk, wearing a basic navy tee and jeans, and chatting with Joanie, who looked as if she might drool all over the appointment book.

  “Let’s go,” she said without formality, and without looking at him.

  Right outside the door, she spotted Kieran’s Porsche parked a few spaces away and headed that direction. Finally, she would get to ride in the ideal vehicle with the ideal man.

  After they settled into the car and buckled up, Kieran dangled one arm over the steering wheel and studied her for a long moment. “Are you okay?”

  She put on an exaggerated grin. “I’m great. Just peachy. A year older, too.”

  He settled his sunglasses over his eyes. “It’s not quite four o’clock, so you’re not a year older yet.”

  The man simply did not forget one detail. He also hadn’t forgotten to wear that cologne that drove her to absolute distraction. “Okay, I’m thirty and twenty-three hours, give or take a few minutes. Now let’s get this party started. I’m starving.” For food and, frankly, a little of his attention.

  Kieran drove out of the lot slowly, but the minute he hit the freeway, he turned the car loose. Erica prayed they didn’t come upon any serious bottlenecks, or a cop. Not a great way to begin their afternoon.

  During the drive, he engaged her in typical small talk about her day, if she’d heard from Stormy, the content of that conversation. After quite a few miles, Erica suddenly realized he was going in the opposite direction from the club. She hated front-seat drivers, but she felt the need to set him straight before they went well out of their way. “I admit I’m directionally challenged, but isn’t the club south of the spa?”

  “It’s technically west, and we’re not going to the club.”

  When he offered no other explanation, she asked, “Don’t I deserve a hint?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  She did see something interesting—signs indicating they were on the freeway that led to the coast. “Are we going to Galveston?”

  “Yeah, we are. I told you I wanted seafood.”

  That was certainly the place to find it. “Where are we going to exercise?”

  Kieran fired off a grin before turning his attention back to the road. “Have you ever run on the beach?”

  Erica’s calves began to ache at the thought of slogging through sand. “Actually, no. I’ve only been to the beach once since I moved to Houston.”

  “Well, now you’re going for a second time.”

  Fine by her. Except for the sand thing. “Where am I supposed to shower and change before dinner?”

  “I’ve got that handled. Just be patient.”

  Erica’s patience was running on empty when Kieran didn’t say much of anything the rest of the way. But not long after they entered the city limits, he pointed to his left. “That’s the third location of Bodies By O’Brien,” he said. “Or what will be the third location as soon as it’s completed next summer.”

  Erica noticed the site was little more than a shell of a building—a very large building. “If that’s where you want me to shower, I’m guessing that involves a water hose since the place clearly has no walls.”

  “That’s not where you’re going to shower. Trust me, the particular place I’m taking you has all the amenities you’ll ever need.”

  Good. Now if only she had an inkling where this particular place might be. Maybe a hotel? Not necessarily the case, she decided as they traveled along the boulevard that skirted the seawall, leaving behind the hotels and condos for an area that was much less commercial. After a few more miles, Kieran finally turned right onto a narrow road and left onto another that was dotted with several beachfront properties. When he pulled into the drive of one estate fairly removed from the others in the area, Erica couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. The Gulf of Mexico served as a backdrop for the three-level, gray and white house elevated by several large beams that protected it from rising tides during hurricane conditions. The facade was reminiscent of the Florida plantation homes she’d viewed in magazines, yet it also had several modern architectural details, including arched windows. Lots and lots of windows.

  Erica could only gape at Kieran when he pulled up to the garage and shut off the engine. “Are you asking for directions?”

  He tossed his shades onto the dash and tugged the keys from the ignition. “No need for that. We’re here.”

  “And where exactly is here?”

  “My home away from home.”

  Surely not…“A weekend rental?”

  He opened the door and said, “I own it,” then slid out of the car.

  Until that moment, Erica hadn’t realized the extent of Kieran’s wealth. Sure, he had money. The elite car, his successful health clubs and his superior apartment were indicative of that. But she knew the going rate for houses of this caliber—hundreds of thousands of dollars. Perhaps even millions.

  She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around Kieran as a millionaire. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to own one home, much less two. Especially not one as majestic as this paradise, with its ultramanicured lawns, palm trees and premier landscaping. The front hedge even had a water sculpture. She’d always dreamed of having one of those….

  The tap on the window jolted her out of her musings and the car when Kieran opened her door. He grabbed her duffel from the trunk while she took the garment bag and without speaking, they scaled the stairs leading to the front entry.

  Kieran opened the elaborate doors to reveal a great room like nothing Erica had ever seen. The interior was decorated with the colors of the ocean—soft blues and sea greens—and a staircase with a chrome
banister led to the upper level. The floor plan was wide open, tastefully furnished and absolutely amazing, from the bamboo floors to the plush sofas. Yet the most impressive focal point happened to be the wall of windows that soared all the way to the second floor, revealing a veranda with a boardwalk that led to a private beach.

  “My brother-in-law, Whit, designed it. I think he did a fairly good job.”

  A fairly good job? She turned to find Kieran still standing near the entry. “It’s beautiful, but it looks barely lived-in.”

  He strode into the room and set her bag down next to the sofa. “That’s because I don’t come here as much as I’d like. But as soon as the new club opens, I plan to make this my permanent home.”

  A home well over an hour from her house. For all intents and purposes, a world away. “What about your apartment at the club?”

  “I’ll provide that for the on-site manager as soon as I hire him or her. Of course, if you’re interested, we could work something out.”

  Not unless he came with the package. “Thanks, but no thanks. I prefer living in a house where Stormy has a yard to play in.” She draped the garment over the arm of one chair and walked to the windows to view the panorama. “She’d love this set-up, though.” And that sounded as if she expected a standing invitation to visit.

  “We should bring her out when the weather’s warmer.”

  Maybe that invitation wasn’t so far-fetched after all. “I suppose she could practice softball on the beach.”

  “She could, and speaking of the beach,” he said, “are you ready to run?”

  She was, but not necessarily on the beach. She had the urge to run from wishing for things that might never come to pass. Still, she faced him with a smile. “Sure. Where do I change?”

  He gestured to his left. “In my bedroom.”

  Finally she’d get to see his bedroom. Regrettably, to check out his decor and nothing more. “How many bedrooms are upstairs?”

  “Three, and three baths.”

  “Are you planning to establish a commune?”

  “Yeah, full of fitness rejects, and that’s what you’ll be if you don’t change your clothes so we can jog before nightfall.”

  If that meant joining his commune, she’d plop her fanny down on the couch and refuse to get up. “All right, Mr. Slave Driver.”

  After gathering her things, Erica followed Kieran past the equally astounding kitchen with its wraparound bar and stainless-steel appliances that must have cost a fortune.

  Good grief, Erica. The whole place cost a fortune.

  Give her a few minutes and she’d gladly break in that state-of-the-art stove. But she hadn’t come here to play the little wife and cook his meals. She’d come to jog and have some dinner before going back to her own reality.

  Yet when she entered the predictably large master suite, she couldn’t help but think how incredible it would be to live there. The king-size bed, covered in a steel-gray comforter, was definitely large enough for two with room to spare. Another wall of windows, access to another veranda and, of course, an adjacent exercise area completed the luxurious package.

  “The bathroom’s to your left,” he said. “I’ll change in here.”

  When Erica opened the door, she immediately fell in love with the iron-gray slate tile and granite countertops that complemented the color scheme present in the bedroom. And of all things, a huge whirlpool had been inset into the corner. If she didn’t think Kieran would miss her, she’d climb into that tub for a good soak. She might even ask him to join her. Instead, she closed the door and put on a new set of navy warm-ups she’d also purchased, a birthday present for herself, so to speak.

  After pulling her hair into a ponytail high atop her head, Erica reentered the bedroom and discovered Kieran had already left the premises. She found him standing on the veranda adjacent to the living room, wearing black shorts and a worn white T-shirt, his back to her as he looked out over the ocean. Such a remarkable view—the placid beach and the buff guy. As far as Erica was concerned, the buff guy with the outstanding butt won out over the beach.

  Experiencing a heady jolt of energy, Erica patted Kieran’s back on her way down the boardwalk, which she navigated at a full sprint. He caught up to her in a flash and, side by side, they jogged down the beach, past other notable homes belonging to the rich, if not exactly famous.

  Even though they didn’t speak, Erica enjoyed the comfortable companionship, the freedom she felt as the ocean breeze flowed over her. To bystanders, they would appear to be a couple taking a run together after work. But they weren’t exactly a couple, at least not in the traditional sense. Not in the way Erica had begun to secretly desire, in spite of her resolve to avoid impossible scenarios. She had to believe this little escape was only another sign of Kieran’s generosity, a way to take her mind off her daughter’s absence, the means to keep her from spending a birthday alone. To believe anything else could lead to unrealistic expectations.

  After about a mile, Kieran proclaimed they could head back, and when they once again reached the boardwalk, Erica was surprised she wasn’t more winded. “That was incredible,” she said as they walked back to the house. “More fun than the treadmill.”

  He forked a hand through his tousled hair. “I like the beach best right after sunrise.”

  “I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

  “You could see for yourself in the morning.”

  Had he just suggested she stay overnight? If so, what exactly did that entail in the hours leading up to dawn? Before Erica could question him, Kieran grabbed the hem of his T-shirt.

  Don’t do it…. Too late.

  He whipped the shirt over his head, providing Erica with a private showing of a chest and abdomen she dearly wanted to explore in a very thorough, nonprofessional manner.

  “I need a shower,” she muttered. A very cold shower even though she doubted that would do a thing to dissolve her wicked thoughts.

  “Right this way,” Kieran said, and when they arrived back inside, he turned to her with a grin. “We could conserve water and shower together.”

  The mixed signals had begun to screw with her mind, not to mention what they were doing to her libido. “Isn’t that kind of intimate for friends?”

  His expression turned suddenly serious. “Is that what we are, Erica? Friends?”

  “I’d like to think so. Is that a problem for you?”

  “No.” He collapsed into a chair and propped his heels on the coffee table. “I just wanted to clarify the ground rules.”

  “That’s right. You’re all about the rules.”

  He frowned. “Meaning?”

  “Nothing.” She wasn’t prepared to get into this now. But later, she wanted answers as to why he’d seemingly altered his attitude about their strictly business relationship.

  Back in Kieran’s bedroom, Erica withdrew the new outfit from the garment bag, laid it out on the bed and realized she wouldn’t be the only one guilty of sending out high-frequency signals tonight, and hers would be sounding loud and clear. The black, barely above-the-knee skirt was innocuous enough, but the silk, turquoise and black print halter top had “do me” written all over it. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch. The bodice did show a good deal of cleavage, but the fabric flowed from an empire waist and ended high on the thigh, adequately covering her hips. She’d also have bare legs and no bra.

  Erica could very well face a monumental decision—casual sex with Kieran, or walking away without knowing what she’d missed. But she’d lived far too long in emotional limbo, denying desires that she’d thought had long since died. If she’d learned nothing else from her experiences, she acknowledged life was categorically uncertain and relatively short. If she could have one night with a man whose skills as a lover likely matched his proficiency as a personal trainer, she saw no real reason not to go for it. And that’s exactly what she intended to do, if Kieran gave her a sure sign that he wanted the same thing.

  Now that she’d made
the decision, Erica unclasped the filigree chain holding her wedding band, the one she hadn’t removed since the day she’d buried her husband, and stored it inside her makeup case. Another giant step in her quest to regain her confidence and return to the woman she’d once been. A step that could lead to the biggest leap of all—giving herself to another man. If that man was willing to break all the rules.

  If Kieran had any doubts where he’d wanted this night to go with Erica, they were all dispelled the minute she joined him in the living room. The fact she wore her hair down was bad enough, but the clothes had the impact of a grenade in Kieran’s gut. Nothing better than a silk blouse, particularly one that tied around her neck. Ties were good for easy access…and he was getting way ahead of himself.

  Erica sounded a little shaky when she proclaimed, “I’m ready.”

  So was Kieran—ready to ditch the main course and get down to dessert. But he had to be patient and respect her wishes. If she wanted to go home tonight, he’d take her. He wouldn’t like it, but he’d do it.

  She flipped her hair back from her shoulders, allowing him a better view of the whole package. “You look great,” he said, and meant it.

  She reached up and adjusted his collar. “So do you. I’ve never seen you in a button-down shirt and slacks before.”

  He’d never seen her without a bra, either. “Thought it might be a nice change from the usual grunge wear.”

  She looked around a minute before bringing her gaze back to his. “What’s that wonderful smell?”

  “Dinner.”

  “We’re not going out?”

  He might have made his first mistake of the evening by not making reservations. “Since Friday night usually draws crowds in the local restaurants, especially on a holiday weekend, I decided to have a chef prepare something for us here.”

  “You have a personal chef?” She looked and sounded astonished.