Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever GirlMoonlight in ParisWife by Design

by Liz Talley

  Maddie laughed. Too loudly. As she did on occasion. Darin laughed, too, and he could hear Kara’s squeal. Maybe the slightly odd woman and her curly-haired imp had been invited for dinner.

  Lynn still didn’t move toward them. And Grant leaned one hand on the wall behind her, not close enough to touch her, but closing them into a more intimate stance.

  What he wanted to do was kiss her.

  She hadn’t moved out the half circle he’d created around them. He’d left room for her to step back. Plenty of room.

  He hadn’t forgotten the way she’d shied away the second he’d gotten too personal before, and he wasn’t about to blow any chance he had to be close to her before he even found out if he had a chance.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said with a glance toward the other room.

  He stepped back. What guy didn’t know those words were the kiss of death?

  “Okay.” He’d come on too strong.

  In his world, his behavior had been circumspect, but he had to remember that he wasn’t in his world here. The Lemonade Stand was a special place, almost a sacred place.

  “Not now,” she said, looking again to the other room. “Can you come to my office on Monday before you start out in the yard?”

  “We’re going to be here all day. Monday is the day my guys are coming to help lay the fountain.”

  “I know. But you said it was okay to leave Darin alone with them. I’ll be in the office by seven.”

  He didn’t want to wait that long.

  But whatever she had to talk to him about, she clearly didn’t want his brother present. And Darin would be with him all day Sunday. Every Sunday. And every Saturday night. And Friday night. And any other time a man might ask a woman out on a date.

  He could ask Maura to stay with his brother....

  The thought occurred to him and was quickly dismissed. Maura checked on Darin during the day the first few days his brother was out of the hospital. He’d scheduled her for two weeks. Darin had been up, dressed and insistent on going with him and spending the day in a chair on the job site after the third day.

  Darin wasn’t going to be okay with a babysitter.

  And Grant couldn’t do that to his brother, anyway. Darin was injured. He wasn’t a baby.

  “I can be there at seven,” Grant said.

  Lynn smiled and gave him another glance. A warm, personal glance that included his mouth.

  He grinned. She was interested.

  “Can I get you some tea?” she asked, as though nothing momentous had just passed between them.

  Her nipples were protruding against her scrubs. Clearly she didn’t wear a padded bra.

  And unless she was suddenly cold in a very warm house, she was every bit as affected as he was by their proximity.

  Grant’s first instinct was to refuse her invitation to tea. Darin did better when they ate on schedule. His medication had to be taken with meals.

  His brother laughed again.

  “Tea would be great,” he said, and would have followed her to the kitchen, but she deterred him.

  “Darin’s in there,” she said as they passed an archway. He could see the sectional. See the back of his brother’s head and Maddie perched on some kind of stool in front of him. The toddler, Maddie’s daughter, wasn’t visible at all.

  And Grant remembered his first and foremost priority. “Hey, big bro, I hear you’ve been showing them that you’re tired of playing Little League,” he said, grinning as he joined the threesome. And hoped Lynn would be quick with the tea. He was going to have to leave soon and wanted to spend as much time as he could with her.

  Darin’s laughter was cut short and the look in his eyes was all worried-little-boy as Grant rounded the corner of the sectional.

  “I’m sorry, Grant. I didn’t follow the instructions.”

  “I’m not sorry, bro,” Grant said, punching his brother on the shoulder and trying not to make too big a deal of his perusal of Darin’s newest injury. “You didn’t become a star baseball player by only practicing when you were told.”

  “I didn’t know you played baseball,” Maddie said in her slow drawl.

  “I did.” Darin sat up, and Kara climbed down from the couch, snatching a stuffed toy away from Darin’s lap.

  “Hi, Mister, this is Sammy. You wanna hold him?” The words were legible, if he listened carefully.

  “Sure,” Grant said, taking the animal and then wondering what to do with it.

  “I think you’re supposed to kiss it,” Darin said, grinning up at him.

  So Grant did. And was rewarded with his brother’s full-bodied laugh, tinged with a bit of out-of-control little-boy guffaw.

  Maddie just sat there, watching Darin.

  Kara said, “Mama! Look! Mister is here!”

  Grant’s gaze went to Maddie, who was still watching Darin, who was smiling at her. So the toddler was aware that her mother was...slow? She realized that Maddie hadn’t noticed him standing there? How long ago had Maddie been injured? Before Kara was born? Or more recently?

  And could a three-year-old adapt that quickly?

  Thoughts flew through his mind.

  “I see, Kara.”

  That’s when Grant realized he was the slow one.

  Kara wasn’t looking toward Maddie. She was looking at the woman who’d just walked into the room carrying Grant’s cup of tea. The woman who’d just replied to her.

  Lynn was Kara’s mother?

  Any hope Grant had had of some kind of quiet, on-the-side liaison with Darin’s nurse flew right out the window.

  There’d be no after-bedtime sex at his place.

  Lynn was as tied down as he was.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LYNN WAS UP by four in the morning on Monday. Not because she’d had a call, but because she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she was going to have Grant Bishop all to herself, alone in her office, in a matter of hours.

  Just the two of them.

  Because they had matters to discuss, it went without saying, but...

  The man did things to her libido that even Brandon had never done. Brought fires out in her when she hadn’t even realized there had been embers.

  She couldn’t wake Kara for another hour and a half. Five-thirty was morning. Potty time. And then fifteen minutes of playtime before they washed up and were ready for breakfast at 6:10. Which put them out of the bungalow at six-thirty.

  Or on a day when Maddie was coming to stay as opposed to Kara’s going to day care, they’d be ready at six-thirty and Lynn wouldn’t have to leave until 6:45.

  It was 4:05 a.m. So she took a long hot bath. With rose-scented bubbles.

  She’d never been so aware of her intimate parts as she was as she lay in the candlelit, quiet room, and let her mind wander. It was a luxury she almost never allowed herself.

  She could control her thoughts—had learned the hard way after Brandon’s life-altering revelation. She couldn’t seem to completely control her body. But what it was doing felt so good, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  When she got out of the tub, she put on blue scrubs—not rose-colored for passion, or purple for spirituality—blue for calm.

  She pulled her hair back in its usual ponytail, ignored her makeup drawer and cleaned the bathroom.

  She emptied the trash, changed the sheets on her bed and, because she wasn’t sure she’d put on deodorant, went back to the bathroom one more time. Where she passed her makeup drawer.

  And stopped.

  The conversation with Grant was important. She needed to feel confident. A little bit of mascara wouldn’t hurt.

  * * *

  HE BROUGHT COFFEE. Black with fixings on the side in case she wanted them.
Grant wasn’t sure if Lynn drank the stuff, but if she did, she’d realize that he’d brought the good kind. He’d stopped, ordering it in a thermal cup, just before pulling into the back lot of the Stand and sliding his temporary pass key in the security keypad that would allow him inside the residents-only section.

  “Who’s that for?” Darin had asked as he’d passed his older brother his usual large, dark, black cup of Colombian, kept one for himself and put the third in the cup holder behind him.

  “Lynn,” Grant said. “I have a meeting with her this morning.” He’d already told Darin three times. But reminding him of that fact, if indeed he’d forgotten, would only serve to trigger his brother’s depression.

  “I remember. It’s not even light yet.”

  “Crazy, huh?” He said words. They didn’t really mean anything. They didn’t have to.

  “She’s pretty.”

  “Lynn?”

  “Well, yes, Lynn’s pretty, but I was thinking about Maddie. We have therapy together today.” Darin spoke slowly, explaining with a serious tone, as though Grant didn’t know a thing about his plans.

  Darin’s gym bag, with his workout shorts and T-shirt, were in the back. He’d worn jeans for the morning’s early labor.

  “Just remember to keep your extremities out of the way if you’re going to push yourself beyond recommendation.”

  “Yeah, I know. My leg stings. I’ll remember.”

  Glancing sideways, Grant said, “You said it doesn’t hurt.”

  “I didn’t want to complain. And it’s my fault.” The comment was offered in such an offhanded way that Grant heard the old Darin.

  And took heart.

  Life might seem to be upside down at times, but it always righted itself.

  * * *

  HER DOWNFALL WAS COFFEE. She’d never fallen prey to chocolate. Or soda or pizza or chips. But coffee...

  In any form.

  Just like the man who was handing it to her?

  “I... Thank you,” she said, taking the tall, nondisposable cup he was handing her as he came through the back door from the grounds toward her office.

  She’d been waiting. In case he forgot and tried to come through the front.

  She took a sip. The cup’s plastic lid had a sipping hole. It wasn’t big enough for the gulp she needed. So she took it off. Took another gulp. Turned.

  And knocked into the man who’d been standing close enough to be touching her.

  He jumped back, holding his arm out as he hissed in a breath.

  “Oh! I’m sorry....”

  “It’s okay.”

  His wrist was dripping with coffee. Steaming hot coffee.

  “It’s not okay.” Taking hold of him from the underside of his arm, she led him quickly inside the examination room closest to them. “I’m so sorry,” she said again, grabbing sterile bandages to pat at the burn. “I can’t believe I did that.”

  She wasn’t usually a klutz.

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  Leading him to a chair, she said, “Sit,” swatting his hand away gently when he would have used it to brush at the liquid still dripping from parts of his arm.

  She got those last drops, too, and then looked at the damage.

  Not as bad as it could have been. But it was going to blister.

  “I’ve got some aloe gel,” she said. The Lemonade Stand used natural and holistic remedies whenever possible. Lifting another sterile pad out of the glass jar on the counter beside them, she stretched a little farther to open the cupboard above and get a small, individualized packet of gel.

  His nose touched her breast.

  Lynn squeezed the packet so tightly some gel oozed out of the closed end. She didn’t move immediately.

  “I’ve got extra packets of this,” she said quickly when she did move, as though to make up for lost time. As though she could cover up the fact that she’d just stood there letting her breast touch his face for no other reason than because it felt good.

  Hot under the skin and on top, as well, Lynn expertly applied the salve to a sun-bronzed, hair-covered, muscled forearm.

  And knew, when he sucked in a rush of breath, that his reaction had nothing whatsoever to do with the burn she was treating.

  * * *

  WHAT GUY DIDN’T fantasize about doing a nurse on an examining table? It was normal, right?

  Except that, until that moment, he’d never so much as entertained the notion.

  Lynn’s medical attentions were excellent. His arm barely stung. The rest of him was burning up, though. And he couldn’t flirt.

  Or pick her up and have his way with her.

  He looked up at her beautiful face, saw that she was concentrating on one spot on his arm and glanced away.

  How did one woo a woman who’d been possibly mistreated and was obviously mistrustful of men?

  Why would he woo any woman when he didn’t have anything to offer but a few minutes with his body and a late-night phone conversation or two?

  Lynn had a small child. There were already too many complications. Kara put the kibosh on the deal that was already a no-deal before she’d even entered the picture.

  “I want to kiss you.”

  She stepped away. Not just back, but completely across the room. “You’ll need to leave that exposed to the air if you can while you’re working today. That will help it heal much more quickly and with less chance of infection.”

  He really didn’t give a damn about a spot on his arm. His hands and fingers had been hammered and had rocks dropped on them and been blistered so many times that sometimes he’d look down and see a mark and try to wipe it off only to find it was a blood blister and he had no idea how he’d gotten it.

  He didn’t give a damn about that, either.

  She moved to the sink. Washed her hands. Took a long time to dry them with the paper towel she’d pulled out of the metal dispenser above the sink.

  The examining room door was open. He wanted to close it. And knew better.

  That early in the morning no one was around. And it wasn’t as if they were going to do anything that required privacy.

  He wanted the door closed.

  “Did you hear me? I said I want to kiss you.”

  “Yes.” Her back was to him and she didn’t turn around. “I heard you.”

  He knew she had. Now what?

  “I’m pretty sure sometimes that you want to kiss me, too.” Or, at least, want him to kiss her, which was basically the same thing.

  She didn’t respond. He took that as an affirmative. If he’d been wrong about her, she’d have immediately denied his allegation.

  And suddenly he felt better. He wasn’t going to kiss her. She wasn’t going to let him.

  But at least now they both knew they wanted to.

  “You said you had something to discuss with me.”

  Lynn turned, a nurse in control, and a woman, too, when her blue-eyed gaze climbed up to meet his. All the way up. From his groin on... “We have a problem.”

  You’re telling me, lady.

  He wanted her to offer to touch him. To have a quick romp up on that table, get it out of their systems and get back to being the practical people they both were.

  “Maddie likes Darin.”

  He blinked. She folded her arms across those full, soft, very feminine breasts. He’d never known a man could be jealous of his own nose.

  “She thinks Darin likes her, too.”

  “I’m sure she’s right,” he was quick to assure her. And then he remembered that mother-hen way she’d protected the other woman the first day Darin had been in for therapy. “Darin’s a nice guy. He likes most people, as long as they’re decent and treat people well.”

  “I’m not w
orried about Darin taking advantage of her,” she said, meeting his gaze and taking a step forward, arms still crossed.

  He’d bet she’d drop those arms if she knew that the position was pushing her breasts up, making them appear even more lush than they were naturally, drawing his attention to them like never before.

  “At least, I’m not worried that he’d be anything but decent with her,” she said. “The problem is bigger than that. She doesn’t just like him, she likes him likes him.”

  “As in, a male/female attraction kind of like?” He asked the question, but couldn’t wrap his mind around the ludicrousness of it. “She does know that Darin’s not quite right, doesn’t she?”

  Feeling like a traitor to the man who was right then outside with Luke and Craig working at whatever he could manage to do four weeks postsurgery and with stitches in his leg, he wanted to wash his mouth out with soap.

  “I doubt she finds him anything but normal,” Lynn said. “Even if she’s noticed lapses, she’d likely just roll with them.”

  Had she just opened the door to Maddie’s past? He worked his mind around a way to enter delicately. And then he said, “Did the bastard who put her here hit her in the head?”

  Every time he saw the slender, pretty woman, he wondered about the man who’d hurt her. She seemed so fragile. So sweet and tender.

  Not that any woman, no matter how strong, should be mistreated...

  His thoughts tripped over themselves again, and Grant felt kind of like what he imagined walking in a mine field would feel like.

  “I’m in scrubs in an examination room, but I’m not talking to you as a nurse right now,” she said. “I’m not talking to you in any official capacity. Though Sara might seek you out to do that.”

  Feeling mines populating his mental field a dozen by the second, he watched her lean against a side wall, about four feet away from him. And cross her arms again.

  “Maddie has HIE. Hypoxic-ischemic encephalopathy.” The worlds rolled off her tongue like a foreign language.

  “You said you weren’t a nurse right now.” He crossed him arms, too.