This was unexpected. He and Miranda had called it quits a couple months ago. There had been one night they’d spent together after the official break up, but he’d assumed that would be it. Things were different now. He was with Becca.
“You should know I’ve sort of started seeing someone, Miranda.”
Her narrow brow lifted. “Have you? Who is she?”
With he and Miranda’s intimate past he could probably trust her not to overreact if she discovered the woman he was dating was also a client. Yet, she was still his boss and something told him to protect Becca’s privacy. Miranda might not use the same ethical scale for others as she did for herself.
“No one you know.”
“Doesn’t sound too serious. How about Wednesday night? I’ll wear that black slip you like.”
“Sorry, Miranda. I can’t.”
She pretended to be unaffected, but Bray knew she didn’t like being told no, especially from a man she saw as her subordinate.
Leaning forward, she reached into the tiny box Becca had sent and pulled out the picture. Frowning, her eyes drifted to him questioningly. He remained silent and she tipped the box, skimming the note. “Becca? That wouldn’t happen to be the same Rebecca handling the Apricot account, would it?”
Easing back in his chair, he steepled his fingers, refusing to buckle under her scrutiny or show any signs of intimidation. As far as ethics went, Miranda had been the one to initiate their affair and she shouldn’t throw stones at glass houses. “Why are you so curious, Miranda? We ended our relationship months ago.”
Her full lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That must be quite different from what you’re used to, Bray. She’s quiet as a church mouse. I can’t imagine she gives you what you need.”
He refused to let her put Becca in a negative light. “She gives me something I never had. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“Let’s just say it’s different with her.”
She laughed. “You like this woman.”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” She stood. “Well, you have my number. Call me when you realize you want a real woman in your bed again.”
His eyes narrowed as she sauntered out of his office. Miranda may have confidence in spades compared to his angel, but suddenly that wasn’t so appealing. Not that he thought of Becca as insecure. On the contrary, she was incredibly capable. The appeal was in the quiet, graceful way she applied herself to everything she did.
Becca was gentle and feminine with soft doe eyes and delicate features. Miranda was a python, a vixen, but not someone you toyed with unless prepared to handle her bite. Hopefully she just had an itch and some other guy would come along to scratch it, because he really didn’t want to deal with her tampering in his new relationship.
* * * *
“Sylvia!” Nikki waltzed into Becca’s office, her voice pitched in true sing-song, the style of Sylvia and Mickey’s Love is Strange, circa 1956.
Becca looked up from her monitor and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Nikki?”
“How do you call your lover boy?” her crazy boss sang.
Becca snorted. “I don’t have a lover boy.”
She sashayed into the office, bumping the door closed with her hip. “These brownies beg to differ.”
That got Becca’s full attention. “Brownies?”
Nikki nodded.
Grinning, Becca dropped her voice deep and said, “Come’ere, lover boy!”
Nikki skipped over and dropped the box on her desk. Becca could smell the chocolate fumes through the package, which had been tampered with. She eyed the label emblazoned on the lid. “Fritz’s?” Impressive.
“I know, right? You must have really done something good to deserve these.”
Becca’s face heated. “I see you took the liberty of opening them for me. Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. He also sent a note.” The tiny envelope dropped to her desk as she pulled a plump brownie from the box. Dear God, the flaky crispiness to fudgy goo ratio was perfect. Licking away a bit of still warm batter, she scooped up the card—also opened.
Ditto.
She couldn’t help it. Her heart went into a round of summersaults.
“What’s he dittoing?” Nikki asked as she swiped her own brownie from the box.
“Nothing. I let him know I had a nice weekend and that he made me happy.”
“Imagine that,” Nikki said over a mouth full of chocolate. “Becca Stevens is happy again.”
Her lips pursed, but she couldn’t hide her cheerfulness. Holding up a fudge smudged finger and thumb, she confessed, “A little.”
Nikki laughed. “Oh, please! You’re using every bit of composure you have right now not to scream like a fourth grade girl.”
The door crashed opened. “Who’s a fourth grade girl?”
Becca’s smile bloomed at the sight of Nikki’s sister, Carla. “Carla, what are you doing here?”
Carla, who managed the bookkeeping for the firm and mostly worked from home, tromped into the office and plopped in the chair next to her sister. “Turning in the quarterly reports. Why else would I drag my ass outside the house and put on a bra. You know I hate people.”
Becca giggled. Carla was her own unique person. She came off grumpy and a bit abrasive, but there was a huge loving heart in there somewhere. “Have a brownie. They’re from Fritz’s.” She slid the box across the desk and Carla lit up.
“Oooh, see, Nikki, this is how one shows proper appreciation for my pleasant services.”
“I’ll remember that next time Alice does payroll. Sweets are cheaper than currency.”
“Shut up,” Carla mumbled, as she shoveled a brownie in her mouth and hummed in ecstasy. “Who sent these?”
“Becca’s boyfriend.”
“Nikki!” She turned to Carla. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You got something if he’s sending you treats from Fritz’s. Wait…did you have the sex?”
Becca’s chest filled with a warm, buttery goodness—not from the brownies. Oh yeah, she’d had the sex. “Maybe.”
Carla clapped like an excited chimp. “When? Ohmygod! I can totally see it now. You’re all glowie and you have that stupid haze in your eyes girls get after having orgasms. Oh, you had good sex. Clearly it wasn’t with Kevin—”
“Ew,” Nikki chimed in.
“—so spill. I want all the filthy details.”
It was impossible to keep all the emotions inside, so Becca spent the next twenty minutes ignoring her work load and gorging herself on the most delicious brownies in Pittsburgh while informing Carla and Nikki all about her weekend.
“…and then we just napped. Napped! Can you believe I found a guy who likes sleep as much as I do?”
“So all the things you’ve been deprived of—sex, orgasms, sleep, fun—are now coming back into your life. This is outstanding news!” Carla declared.
“I made her talk to him.” Nikki grinned smugly, demanding her due.
Becca smiled. “Yes, and I finally forgive you.”
“So are you going to introduce him to Hunter?” Carla asked, sobering the mood of the room.
All the warmth in her chest solidified as tension set in. “I don’t know. I want them to meet. I think Braydon would be really patient with him. I mean, he’s the most patient person I’ve ever met. I didn’t know men like that existed in real life. But I’m…”
“Afraid?” Nikki and Carla asked at the same time.
“Yeah.” Becca slid the empty box off her desk and into the trash, hiding all evidence before her sugar coma set in. “I always had these imagined rules for situations like this that I never thought I’d actually have to use.”
“Rules are meant to be broken,” Nikki sang happily.
“Not where Hunter’s concerned,” Becca reminded seriously. “I don’t want to introduce him to someone who may not be around in a few weeks.”
“Did you tell GQ t
hat?”
“Well, no. I don’t want to sound presumptuous.”
“Yeah, but you have extenuating circumstances. Hunter’s a great kid. He deserves to be surrounded by great people—like Nikki and myself. This guy should know greatness is expected of him.”
“Carla, I can’t tell him he can only meet my son if he promises to stick around. No one can make a commitment like that.”
“Well, then he doesn’t get to meet Hunter. It depends on what you want more, Becs, him to meet your son or him not to get that involved.”
“I don’t know what I want yet.” That was the truth. It had only been a couple of weeks since she met Braydon, and only one weekend since changing her opinion of him.
“Well, you’ll figure it out. Eventually, it’ll start getting annoying only being able to see him when Kevin has Hunter—”
“Blah. Kevin. I hate that little testicle,” Carla interrupted.
Nikki continued, “—I mean, think how much it’ll suck only being able to see him every two weeks and maybe every Wednesday.”
“I know. It’s so weird, but I already started missing him before I even said goodbye last night. We were supposed to have lunch today.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I had to finish up the paperwork from last month’s deal.”
“Well, at least you get to see him at work,” Carla said. “Oh, you guys could have all kinds of secret rendezvous! It’ll be like a naughty liaison! Promise you’ll fax me a copy of his ass cheeks when you do it on the copier.”
“Just wipe down the conference table when you’re done,” Nikki grumbled.
“I am not having sex at work!” Becca hissed.
“Why the hell not? I do all the time,” Carla said.
“You work from home,” Becca said dryly.
Carla shrugged.
Nikki turned and gaped at her sister. “Clearly I’m paying you for nothing. And who the hell are you having sex with?”
Blinking with innocence, Carla said, “People.”
Nikki frowned. “What people?”
“Electrical people and the men of my fantasies.”
Becca snorted and Nikki rolled her eyes. “You need help.”
Carla perked up. “Help would be great. Why don’t you hire some decent looking men and send them to my office?”
Shaking her head, Nikki stood. “Your office should be in the building with everyone else’s.”
“No, that won’t work. You know I don’t play well with others.”
The girls eventually staggered out of the office on a sugar high. Becca didn’t get another chance to think about the matter of Braydon and Hunter until she was falling into bed that night, too exhausted to make any real, big girl decisions.
* * * *
The following day she rushed into work after a trying morning with Hunter and didn’t seem to catch her breath until she was cracking open her email.
Good morning, angel. Lunch today?
Ps: You never called last night.
~Bray
Grinning—dear God, she was turning into a fourth grader—she punched out a reply.
Good morning. I have a meeting at 12:30, so it will have to be a late lunch. How’s 2:00? Someplace close to my office, if you don’t mind. I have another meeting at 3:00.
PS: You never asked me to call.
~Your Angel
His reply didn’t come for over an hour, during which time Becca displayed some humiliating dependency issues she wasn’t aware she possessed, A.K.A. obsessively checking her inbox and pouting when she found it empty. When his reply finally showed, she squeaked with a mortifyingly girly voice she also didn’t realize she possessed.
Sorry, Angel, no can do. My afternoon’s booked solid. I suppose drinks after work are out. When will I see you again? It’s almost embarrassing to miss someone this much.
PS: Of course I told you to call. Did you not hear my subliminal pleas yesterday? I was using Jedi pathways to get your attention.
~Bray
Becca laughed. He was a dork, just like her, and that was unbelievably refreshing. Her skin tingled as she reread the line about him missing her.
My head must have been too fuzzy with chocolate residue to pick up your subliminal signals. I miss you too. (A lot…insert corny smiley face here) I promise I’ll call you tonight, because, yes, drinks are out. Sorry. Told you my life was complicated.
~Your Angel
I don’t mind complicated. Just trying to figure my way into the mix. Did you enjoy your brownies?
~Bray
Silly boy, I made love to those brownies. It was dirty, sinful, and I was utterly useless afterwards.
~Your chocolate lovin’ Angel
His reply was quick.
Annnnnnd…now I’m hard. I want you.
Becca fell back in her chair and sighed. How the hell was this happening to her? Things like this didn’t happen in her life. Men like Braydon McCullough didn’t want her. There had to be something wrong with him she wasn’t seeing. He was just too…perfect.
That evening, she didn’t have the house shut down until well after nine. Hunter didn’t have the best day and it was bath night. She could barely keep her eyes open as she dialed Braydon.
“Hello,” he answered and she was reminded of just how delicious his voice was. She was also reminded that most adults had plenty of stamina after—she glanced at the clock—nine-thirty-two. Good grief she was a waif.
“Hey.”
“You sound tired. You okay?”
“Tired is an understatement. I’m not even sure if I’m still breathing.”
“Bad night?” He sounded so upbeat and energetic. She envied that and couldn’t recall the last time she’d outwardly displayed that sort of oomph.
“Normal night. I’m just tired.” She sighed, taking vicarious pleasure in his mood.
“Does Hunter like pizza?”
Before she answered she paused, alarm bells going off in her head. She couldn’t deal with another pop in, but maybe that wasn’t what he was hinting at. Exhaustion was likely making her presumptuous. Still, she answered cautiously, “Yes.”
“Well, I was thinking, maybe—if it would help—one night I could come by with a pizza, meet Hunter, and save you some time in the kitchen.”
It still shocked her that a single man would push so hard to find a way into her chaotic life. The sincerity seemed impossible, yet he sounded so genuine. She laughed quietly, her face sinking deeper into the pillow. “Where did you come from?”
“Center County.”
She hummed happily and mumbled, “Must be a magical place.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are. That’s what’s so incredible about you. How would you like to come over tomorrow night after work? Hunter goes to his father’s on Wednesdays.”
“Can I sleep over?”
“Yes.” Her lips tightened with a smile.
“Mmm, then yes. Should I bring the pizza?”
“Yes, please.”
“Perfect.” Becca was thinking the same thing, only applying the word to him. “Can I pick up anything else? A bottle of wine? Brownies?”
“No more brownies for at least a week. I have no self-control and my pants still don’t fit right since the other day.”
“I think you eating brownies could be incredibly sexy. Maybe just one.”
She groaned and giggled. “You’re killing me, Smalls.”
“Okay, fine. One pizza, a bottle of wine, and one teeny, tiny brownie.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll let you get some sleep. Sweet dreams, angel.”
“Sweet dreams, Braydon.”
* * * *
The following afternoon Braydon rushed out of work and headed to the liquor store. He’d ordered the pizza from a place near Becca’s and planned to pick it up after he swung by Fritz’s for her brownie. As he climbed back into his car, his cell rang.
“Hello?”
“What’s
up, little brother?”
“Well, if it isn’t the future father of the year,” Braydon said, recognizing Luke’s voice.
“Yeah, right. That title will definitely go to my significant other.”
“Oh, stop. Congrats by the way. Colin told me you guys are going on a waiting list.”
Luke sighed. “Yup, that’s what we’re best at—waiting. Waiting for Congress, waiting for children. We’re getting pretty good at it. Right now we’re waiting for the approval so we can wait on the list, but hey…” He could sense his brother’s nervous happiness. “We may actually get a son or daughter. There aren’t words for how incredible that is.”
“You’ll get there—on all counts. I have faith. So what’s up?”
“Nothin’. Just driving home from work and I realized I hadn’t talked to you in a while. Tristan’s got the flu so I’m driving stag. Figured I’d give you a call.”
“That sucks. Stomach or other?”
“Other. He had a fever this morning and chills—the whole nine yards. He’s pretty much quarantined.”
“Maybe he’s pregnant,” Braydon joked.
“Ha. Ha.”
Bray smirked at his brother’s newfound ability to get his stones broken. The truth was, since last year his brother was a totally new person. He’d softened more than Bray ever thought possible, and of all his siblings, Luke seemed to check on each McCullough the most. It was as though he were making up for lost time.
“Please, I can’t get near him the way Mum’s doting over him. Thank the Lord she’s there, though, because otherwise I’d never be able to feed him.”
Braydon laughed. It was nice hearing his brother regard their family with such open affection. It was a refreshing side to Luke they were all still adjusting to.
“She’s sort of why I was calling.”
Bray’s brow tightened with concern. “Mum? Why? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I just realized next year’s their fortieth wedding anniversary. I thought we should plan something special.”
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