British Bedmate (A Series of Standalone Novels)

by Penelope Ward

  Calli’s hands went to her hips. “I told you not to screw with my friend.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me, Simon Hogue. I know you did something.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Well then, if you know, fill me in, because I’ve no fucking clue what you’re rattling on about.”

  Calliope squinted at me. “What did you do to Bridget?”

  “Let’s see. I cleaned up her entire house after a grease fire and then I took her out to dinner on her birthday. Oh, wait, that’s not it. Might it be because I was a perfect gentleman when she rubbed her ass up against my dick half the night?”

  “If you didn’t do something, then why is she leaving?”

  A sudden panic came over me. “Leaving? What are you talking about?”

  “She came in for a class this morning and looked like she’d lost her best friend. When I asked her what was wrong, she said nothing, and then told me she had just booked a trip down to Florida.”

  “Okay…”

  “So I know you did something.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “So why does she look so sad, and she’s running down to Florida all of a sudden because she needs to get away.”

  I took a deep breath and exhaled audibly. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Really? What is it, then?”

  “Bridget and I…” I searched for words to explain what the hell was going on, but since I didn’t understand what we had myself, it wasn’t easy. “…it’s complicated, Calliope.”

  Suddenly, my friend’s face changed. Her anger morphed into wide-eyed shock. “You have actual feelings for her?”

  “I like her. Yes. She’s a good person.”

  “Of course, she is. I’m not friends with assholes.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You’re falling in love with her.”

  “No, I’m not.” I’d answered so fast, it made me even question if I was lying. Was I falling in love with Bridget? The thought seemed ludicrous. “I can’t be falling for her.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that can’t happen.”

  A huge smile grew on Calliope’s face. “Not wanting love to happen doesn’t make it not happen, Simon.”

  I’d have to think on that one later. There were more important things to discuss. “When is she going to Florida?”

  “Tomorrow morning. Brendan is off of school next week for break so she booked a last-minute flight for tomorrow morning. She’s taking him out of class for a day and was able to get the week off by switching shifts with some other nurses.”

  Was she even going to tell me? “I gotta go.” I leaned down, pecked my friend on the cheek, and headed for the door.

  She yelled after me. “Don’t hurt her, Simon!”

  I was starting to think her warning should have been the other way around.

  “Going somewhere?”

  I jumped hearing Simon’s voice at six in the morning. He wasn’t supposed to be off shift until hours after we were gone. I had been so lost in thought as I packed, I didn’t even hear him come in.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He smirked. “I live here, remember?”

  Simon walked into my room and sat down on the bed next to my open suitcase. “Taking a trip somewhere?”

  I busied myself folding some shirts, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole trip. As if it was everyday I made rash decisions to fly down to Florida. “Brendan and I are going to go down to Florida to visit my mom. I’m sorry I forgot to mention it. I guess it slipped my mind.”

  Simon looked like he didn’t believe a word I was saying, although he didn’t call me out on it. “How long will you be gone for?”

  “A week.”

  He said nothing, preferring to wait until I looked up at him. When I did, he spoke into my eyes. “Should I move, Bridget? Will that make things easier for you?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know, Simon. My head is really confused right now. I know I don’t want you to leave. I really enjoy you being here. But would it make things easier for me in the long run? Maybe? Would it make things easier on you if you moved?”

  Unlike mine, Simon’s answer was unqualified. “No. It wouldn’t make it easier if I lived somewhere else. But I’ll go if that’s what you want.”

  “It’s not what I want.”

  “Is it what you need?”

  My shoulders slumped. “I don’t know the answer to that, Simon. I wish I were as certain of things that I wanted and needed as you seem to be. But I’m not. So, if I’m being honest, that’s the reason I’m taking this trip. The one thing I am sure of is that I need some time to think about things.”

  “You shouldn’t have to leave your own house to do that.”

  I forced a smile but knew it came out as sad. “Yes, I do, Simon. And although my confusion over you is a big part of my uncertainty right now, this house has a lot of memories that I need to get away from to clear my head.”

  He looked sad. “I understand.”

  “You do?”

  Simon nodded. “One of the reasons I came to the US was because of Blake. After he died, I was stuck in place for a long time. So much reminded me of him. I felt guilty when I forced myself to not think about our memories, and I felt sad when I allowed myself to think about them. It was a no-win situation. I applied to college here on a whim. Hadn’t even spoken to my parents about it because I didn’t want anyone to analyze my decision for what it was.”

  I sat down on the other side of the suitcase. “I guess you understand a lot more than I thought you would.”

  We looked into each other’s eyes. “Were you even going to leave me a note?”

  “I was. That’s why I’m up so early. I tried to write it last night a half dozen times, but couldn’t figure out what I wanted to say.”

  Simon gave me that sexy, half smile I loved so much. “You should have just gone with whatever was on your mind. The last time you did that was quite memorable.”

  We laughed together, and it seemed to have broken the tension a bit. “I’ll be back in a week.”

  Simon stood. “Think about things while you’re gone. If you decide that it’s best that I find somewhere else to live—no hard feelings.”

  “Okay.”

  “Have a good time with Brendan.” He pointed to my suitcase with his chin. “And get rid of that one-piece suit you have packed on top. Go out and get yourself a bikini. You can totally rock it, Bridge.”

  Fort Lauderdale weather was beautiful this time of the year. My mom had taken Brendan down to the fishing pier to pick up some bait, while I went to the mall to pick him up a new bathing suit. I was shocked when he couldn’t fit into the one from last year. Obviously he was growing, but I guess I hadn’t realized how much he’d sprouted. Seeing last year’s baggy bathing suit that had reached his knees turn into tight, hot shorts was really an eye opener as to how big he was getting.

  Tommy Bahama was generally out of my price range, but the front of the store had a huge fifty-percent-off sale that caught my eye, so I wandered in. There wasn’t a kid’s section, but I was able to pick Brendan up a pair of Hawaiian-looking swim trunks in a men’s extra small that looked like it would fit. On my way to the register, I passed a rack with colorful bikinis all priced at under twenty dollars. What the hell? Remembering what Simon had said, I decided to try one on just for fun. It had been a good ten years since my stomach had seen daylight, but trying one on wouldn’t hurt.

  I was amazed that it actually looked pretty good. I wasn’t eighteen years old and stick thin anymore, but Simon was right—I could totally rock this suit. My curves didn’t look half bad in a bright, floral-colored two-piece—and it coordinated with Brendan’s. If only I had the nerve to wear it out in public. As if on schedule, my phone buzzed from inside my purse. Before changing, I dug it out. Seeing Simon’s name on the screen had my heart pounding in my chest.r />
  Simon: Get yourself a new suit while you’re out.

  What? How could he have possibly known I was out buying a bathing suit?

  Bridget: How the heck do you know I’m out shopping?

  Simon: Brendan texted me to show me the worms he was buying and said you were out getting him swim trunks because his didn’t fit.

  I hadn’t known Brendan even knew Simon’s number.

  Bridget: Does he text you often?

  Simon: Mostly it’s just pictures of what you guys are doing.

  Wow. I had no idea.

  Bridget: Well then I’m glad he’s not here right now to take a picture.

  Simon: Why? What are you doing?

  Bridget: I’m standing in the fitting room at Tommy Bahama. My plan was to pop into Target and pick up Brendan a suit but instead I’m in Galleria Mall trying on a bikini. My stomach is whiter than milk.

  The dots started to bounce around and then stopped. Then started again.

  Simon: Send me a pic.

  There was no way I was sending him a picture. My selfie skills were pretty weak, and while I didn’t look horrible, it wasn’t Simon worthy. Before I could respond back, Simon texted again.

  Simon: Stop thinking about it, luv. Send me a shot. I won’t let anyone else see it.

  Against my better judgment, I snapped a pic in the mirror. It wasn’t half bad. Another text from Simon came in.

  Simon: I know you just took one. Now stop analyzing it and send it to me.

  I giggled in the dressing room. It dawned on me that it was the first time I’d laughed since I’d arrived in Florida yesterday. But I still wasn’t sending him the picture. Although…

  I reached into the cup of the bikini top and lifted my boobs so that they were perked up. Then I raised the sides of the bottoms so that it gave the appearance of longer legs. Smiling, I put one hand on my hip and posed for a selfie in the mirror.

  Well I’ll be. No wonder all the teens did this hand on the hip thing. I looked ten pounds lighter. And the boob fluff up I’d done made my naturally full breasts look perky as hell.

  Simon texted again.

  Simon: How about if I send you a selfie first? Will that help?

  I chewed my fingernail.

  Bridget: Maybe…

  Less than a minute later, my phone pinged indicating a photo had arrived. Of course, he’d done it. I started to crack up when I opened the picture. Simon was at work, but must’ve stepped into the supply closet. He was wearing blue scrubs and had a big goofy smile on his face.

  Bridget: Ummm. Cute. But if you expect a bikini shot, you’re going to have to put up more skin than that, Hogue.

  Again, a minute later, my phone pinged. Simon was still standing in the supply closet but was lifting his shirt so that I could see his abs and had let his scrubs fall to his knees. His tight boxers showcased his thick thighs and the V north of the good stuff. I also knew firsthand that the big bulge he was sporting was not the result of a good camera angle or any fluffing.

  I stood in the dressing room for a few minutes and debated sending him my selfie in return. Eventually, my phone pinged again.

  Simon: You owe me BIG now.

  Bridget: Why?

  Simon: Nurse Hamilton walked in on me. Apparently, I hadn’t locked the door like I thought I did. I think she thought I was masturbating.

  I covered my mouth laughing. Nurse Hamilton was probably close to seventy. She was also extremely proper. I supposed I couldn’t hold out on him after that. Calling up the picture I’d taken on my phone…I let my finger hover over the button for a good three minutes. Then I held my breath and pressed send.

  It took a few minutes before my phone pinged again. But then…

  Simon: Nurse Hamilton might not have been so wrong, after all. Fuck, Bridget. You’re gorgeous.

  I was never very good at accepting compliments. While I didn’t think I looked gorgeous, oddly, I believed that Simon thought I did. He had rose-colored glasses when it came to me for some unknown reason.

  Bridget: Thank you, Simon. You’ve made my day.

  My phone went quiet after that. I changed back into my clothes and spent a few minutes trying to figure out how to get the suit to display on the hanger the pretty way it had been when I’d found it. I left the fitting room feeling good about myself. Although there was no way in hell I was actually wearing a bikini in public, it was fun to pretend. A salesgirl was hovering close to the room I changed in.

  “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “No, thank you. But can I give you this?” I held out the bikini and hanger. “I couldn’t figure out how to hang it up properly.”

  “Sure. Are you ready to check out?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  I took Brendan’s suit up to the register, following the young girl who carried the suit. When she rang it up, the total was $43.21.

  “I thought the men’s suit was on sale for $19.99?”

  “It is. And so is this one.” She lifted the bikini I’d tried on.

  “Oh. I won’t be buying that today. I’m just taking the men’s suit.”

  The young girl smiled. “The gentleman said you would say that.”

  “The gentleman?”

  She continued to wrap up the bikini in tissue paper, even though I’d told her I wasn’t buying it. “A man called while you were in the fitting room. He bought a $200 gift certificate over the phone and told me to use it to pay for your purchases. Said to include the bikini you came out with, whether you wanted it or not.”

  I was dumbfounded. “Can I assume he had a British accent?”

  The girl placed my items in a bag. “Sure did. Sounded kind of hot. You’re a lucky lady.” She handed me a gift card along with my bag. “You have a balance of $156.79 on your card.”

  I walked out of the store still shaking my head. I am a lucky lady, aren’t I?

  Once I was at my car, I started it and dug my phone back out of my purse. I typed and erased a half dozen messages to Simon before going with a simple one.

  Bridget: I can’t believe you did that. Thank you, Simon.

  Simon: Did you buy the suit?

  Bridget: How could I not when you were so sweet?

  Simon: Good. Enjoy it and wear it. Have a great vacation. I expect to see tan lines when you get home. P.S. My thoughts of you when I look at that picture are anything but sweet.

  The rest of the afternoon, I did exactly what the doctor had ordered. I wore my new suit and enjoyed myself. After an evening swim with my son in the warm, ocean water, I took a stroll along the beach with my mom and Brendan. The sun was beginning to set and lit the sky in vivid shades of purple and deep orange.

  “Wow. It’s beautiful,” I said to Mom.

  “Isn’t it?”

  I found myself thinking that Simon would probably enjoy a beautiful sunset. So, I snapped a few pictures intending to send them to him later. I might have even encouraged Mom to take a picture of Brendan and me on Brendan’s phone with the sunset in the background as we stood on the beach wearing our matching suits. I secretly hoped my son might send it to a certain someone.

  When it got dark, we headed back up to Mom’s. I took a quick shower and then Brendan went to take a bath. Mom poured us each a glass of wine in the kitchen. She smiled warmly at me. “You seem better now, Bridget?”

  “Better?”

  “Happier. The last time you came down to visit, I was really worried when you left. You weren’t yourself. Actually, it’s been quite a few years since I saw the real Bridget.”

  I sipped my wine. “Well, my husband died, Mom.”

  She hesitated for a moment. “Yes, of course. But I meant it had been a few years even before Ben died since I saw you smiling like you did today.”

  “What do you mean? Ben and I were happy.”

  “I didn’t mean that you weren’t. You just…I don’t know, dear. I suppose the best way to describe it is sometimes we lose our spark. It doesn’t mean we’re not happy. Ther
e are just certain times in life when, for whatever reason, we go through the motions without feeling the zest for life. You know? Think about it, when was the last time you enjoyed a sunset like you did tonight? You were absolutely radiant watching it this evening.”

  I hated to admit it, but she was right. I’d been coming down here every year for the last ten years, and I couldn’t remember the last time I took notice of a beautiful sunset. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t happy with Ben, did it? “I don’t think we usually stay out on the beach that late, Mom.”

  She smiled. “We allow ourselves to see what we’re looking for.”

  My brows drew down. “How many glasses of wine did you have while I was in the shower? You sound a little Maya Angelou-ish to be my mother.”

  We both laughed. Finishing off my wine, I caught the time on the wall clock—it was almost eight. “We should order some dinner. I haven’t fed Brendan since lunch. He must be starving.”

  “There’s a new little Greek place down the block. How about that?”

  “Sure. That sounds perfect. Do you have a menu?”

  Mom dug it out from her packed menu drawer and handed it to me. “I’m going to take a shower. Add four chicken kabobs and some hummus and chips to whatever you and Brendan want.”

  “Four chicken kabobs? You must be starving, Mom.”

  She smiled. “Did I forget to tell you that we’re having company in a little while?”

  “Company? Who?”

  “My new neighbor, Jonathan. He’s a few years older than you and widowed. He’s also extremely handsome. I’ve told him all about you, and he can’t wait to meet you.”