Beefcake & Mistakes

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Beefcake & Mistakes Page 5

by Fennell, Judi


  And she would have if Trevor hadn’t shouted, “Bwyan!” and flown out the door into the man’s legs, wrapping his arms around them as if he were hugging a tree.

  Jenna couldn’t speak over the lump in her throat. Why this guy? Why now?

  “Trevor, honey, let’s let Bryan walk, okay?” She steered Trevor over to the front door by his shoulders. Bryan had come to play catch, not join the family.

  And she wasn’t asking him to…

  “We have to get your sneakers tied so you don’t trip.”

  She knelt at her son’s feet, wishing her hair was long enough to cover her face so Bryan didn’t have a bird’s eye view of her every emotion—which he was taking full advantage of. Probably checking out the merchandise.

  Did she measure up?

  “Huwwy, Mommy! I wanna make a touchdown!”

  Thank God for Trevor. “You have to settle down, you little jumping bean, or I’m not going to be able to get this other shoe on you.”

  Trevor stopped hopping, but he didn’t stop fidgeting. And with Bryan staring at her, Jenna was fidgeting, too.

  Her fingers fumbled with the laces, but the bow was good enough. “There you go.” She patted Trevor’s leg. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

  “Tiger Twevor to the wescue!” Trevor yanked the doorknob. “Come on, Bwyan!”

  “I’ll be right there. Get the ball out of the bag on the porch, okay?”

  Trevor beamed as if he’d just won the Super Bowl.

  Jenna gathered her thoughts before standing. She had to come clean now. Before Trevor got hurt.

  “Look, Bryan—”

  “I’m sorry about walking in, but I heard you two talking and, well, the door was open.”

  “That doesn’t give you an open invitation—”

  “You’re right. And I’m sorry. Truce?” He held out his hand, and oh the temptation to touch him again…

  It took a lot of fortitude, but she refrained. “That’s not important right now. I have to talk to you about our deal. About the money.”

  “Yeah, about that. I haven’t had a chance to go to the bank yet. Can we do this later?”

  “No, we really can’t. I need to talk to you—”

  “Mommy?” Trevor yanked the door open, then stomped his foot when he saw the two of them standing there. “Come on! I wanna pway football!”

  Bryan touched her arm. “We don’t want to disappoint Trevor, do we?”

  Jenna sighed. She didn’t. “Fine.” She pasted a smile on her face for Trevor and scooted through the door. “Okay, Trevor, let’s go. I’ll snap the ball.”

  She had a feeling, though, that Trevor wasn’t going to be the one who was disappointed.

  Chapter Eight

  Bryan didn’t get it. He couldn’t see Jenna in the role of the happy hooker.

  She didn’t wear a lick of make-up, her nails weren’t manicured, her hair was a disaster on the women-who-care-about-their-appearance scale, though he liked the jumbled, just-out-of-bed mess curling around her head, and she got rough-and-tumble dirty with her son and was a little ungainly doing so. How could she dance seductively if she kept tripping over her own (really long shapely) legs like a baby giraffe?

  There was nothing childlike about Jenna.

  Although, grace wasn’t exactly a job requirement when it came to stripper poles, merely the ability to wrap herself around it. And any man who would pay the right price?

  He caught the ball Trevor tossed his way and it hit him in the gut like sucker-punch. Why’d she have to be a hooker? Why’d she have to have given birth to his son—and kept him from him?

  He had no doubt that Trevor was his. The kid had the same mannerisms, the same lispy r, the same habit of sticking his tongue out to the left when he was throwing that Bryan had gotten rid of in his first pee-wee game after the guy who’d tackled him had called him a wuss. He hadn’t known what it meant at the time, but he’d known he didn’t want to be one. That was going to be something he’d help Trevor with.

  But first, he had to get the chance to see him. To be in his life. The ten grand would help with that, but why couldn’t Jenna be just some local high school teacher he could consider spending the rest of his life with?

  “Catch, Bwyan!” Trevor lobbed a wobbly throw.

  He lunged for the ball. Trevor had a good arm for his age; he just needed some instruction and practice. Bryan was going to make sure he got them.

  “Good toss, Trevor!” Jenna ran over to the boy and ruffled his hair. The scowl that appeared on Trevor’s face was like looking into a thirty-year-old mirror.

  How ironic that Jenna didn’t remember him or realize her son was the spitting image of him. ’Course, if he took off his sunglasses, she just might.

  “It’s a pass, Mommy, not a toss.” Trevor rolled his eyes, giving Bryan the quintessential “Women!” look that guys were born knowing how to do.

  “Well it was a good pass.”

  Jenna shoved her hands into the front pockets of her shorts, which dragged the waistband down, revealing an inch of toned, flat stomach that Bryan had a hard time peeling his eyes off of. The sunglasses served two purposes.

  “Let’s do one more, Trev, then it’s time for your nap,” she said, which just made Bryan think of going to bed. With her.

  Why didn’t he remember her? What it’d been like between them. He was an idiot for getting drunk enough not to remember, but then, bachelor parties weren’t known as genius pits. It wasn’t as if he’d been planning to get drunk and screw a stripper. Not one of his finer moments in life.

  Trevor groaned.“Awww! I don’t wanna take a nap today.”

  No, actually, that night had been a good one; it’d made Trevor. His son. The finest thing in his life.

  “Sweetheart, you have to. I have to work this afternoon.”

  “Can’t I pway with Bwyan while you work?”

  Great. Trevor knew about her job. Not the particulars, surely, but what did the kid think about men coming and going in his house? And did he equate Bryan with the rest of the, er, clientele?

  “I don’t mind, Jenna.” It’d keep him around so he could see her next client. Chaperone, maybe.

  He shook his head. This was crazy. Stupid, even, that he didn’t want her to be with anyone else. Just because the condom broke didn’t mean he had rights where she was concerned. But when it affected his child…

  If only he’d had the chance to go to the bank, but the inspector had had a cancellation first thing this morning and since Gage had been out on one of his own projects, Bryan had had to go. Turned out that the new space had some structural issues he and Gage would need to address, and the appointment had taken longer than he’d thought.

  He checked his phone. He didn’t have any emergency clients today and he’d cleared his afternoon so he could spend it with Trevor. There was still time to make it to the bank. Then Jenna would be his and any other client could kiss her goodbye.

  Well, no. If anyone was going to be kissing Jenna, it’d be him.

  The memory of doing just that flared in front of him like a roaring flame—and just as hot.

  It was no wonder they’d created a baby together if this attraction had raged through them that night. Toss in some alcohol and the bachelor-party mood, and yeah, it wasn’t hard to imagine how any of it had happened.

  He just wished he could remember it. Especially the broken condom part.

  God, the one time that’d happened and he found himself in this position.

  Wonder what position they’d been in when they’d made Trevor.

  Bryan shook his head. Not going there or he wouldn’t be able to walk upright.

  “All right. You can stay up today.”

  Trevor fist-pumped a, “Yes!” then he hugged his mother’s legs.

  The mother of his child. Bryan had always expected he’d call his wife that, not some woman he’d had too many rum and cokes with.

  “Thwow it back, Bryan!” Trevor let go of Jenna and, with his little le
gs working so fast Bryan was afraid they’d get tangled in each other, ran to the far side of the yard, one arm outstretched for the Hail Mary of front yard football passes.

  “Go long, Trevor!” Bryan pumped the football toward the end zone they’d marked with two lawn chairs, and the little boy curved to the right as naturally as if they’d practiced it.

  Oh yeah. Trevor was definitely his.

  He let the ball fly, putting a little spin on it since Trevor thought that was cool, and watched it land right where it was supposed to. The kid was a natural.

  “Touchdown!” Jenna ran into the end zone and swung Trevor up in her arms, his little legs fanning out behind him, his smile matching hers so much it made Bryan’s heart hurt.

  Yes, Trevor was his—but he was also Jenna’s.

  What did that mean for all three of them?

  ***

  “Can Bwyan stay for dinner, Mommy?”

  Jenna tossed the ball toward the bag on the porch. And missed. She’d known that question was going to pop up. She also knew there was no way in hell she was keeping Bryan around longer than necessary.

  “Thanks for asking, Trevor, but I can’t tonight.” Bryan beat her to the punch of disappointing her son and she’d love to thank him for that, but he’d probably consider it an advance against payment for services rendered.

  “Aw, why not?”

  “I have things to do.” Bryan packed the ball in his duffel.

  “Work?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Michael’s daddy only works in the day. He wears a tie. Do you wear a tie?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I think ties are cool. Mommy is going to buy me and Mister Monkey one.”

  “You and Mr. Monkey are very lucky to have your mommy.”

  “I know. Sarge says so all the time.”

  Jenna winced. She didn’t want Bryan to make the connection between her and Sarge too quickly. While she wasn’t exactly going to relish tossing his money back in his face now—not after the way he’d been with Trevor today—she didn’t want him making any assumptions. Well, any more about her. Not that any other assumption could be worse than what he already assumed—

  “Trevor, what do you say to Bryan for playing with you today?”

  Trevor gnawed on his lip and squinted up at their guest. “Can you pway tomowow?”

  She should have known a simple Thank You wouldn’t cut it.

  “Sweetheart, Bryan has things to do. He can’t spend all his time playing with you—”

  “Actually, I do have free time tomorrow morning. Around ten?”

  She should say no. Although, after what she was going to say to him, it’d be a non-issue. Let him be the bad guy.

  “Trevor, why don’t you go inside and wash your hands. Bryan and I have a few grownup things to talk about.” Like not playing the Little Boy card to get to her. Trevor was not a pawn and she wouldn’t allow him to be used like one. As far as Bryan was concerned, he’d bought her, not Trevor.

  And he hadn’t bought her yet, so he could just forget his “I’ll come by tomorrow” entitlement.

  With a blech, Trevor headed inside. Grownup things were on par with a sick Santa Clause at Christmas to him.

  “Look, Bryan—”

  “Tomorrow’s not a problem. I have a few hours to spare.”

  “About that.” Jenna tucked her hair behind her ears. She could only imagine what it looked like—brillo head central. “There’s been a mistake.”

  “A mistake? That’s what you call it?”

  She wasn’t prepared for the anger. “Well… yeah. Wouldn’t you?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. And another. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. Then he scratched his chin, the slight rasp of the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow interrupting the silence. He exhaled. “Okay. Fine. A mistake. Are you saying I can’t see Trevor tomorrow? I mean, I did—”

  “Pay for the privilege,” Jenna purposely chose that wording to keep it open to interpretation. Who knew what Trevor was overhearing? “I know. But the thing is, Trevor wasn’t part of our bargain.”

  “No kidding.”

  If he agreed with her, why the argument? “Okay. Good. I’m glad you see things my way.”

  “Actually, I don’t. And I don’t see how you’d think I would.”

  She was just about to lay into him why she thought—no, knew—he should see things her way when Trevor’s face appeared at the living room window.

  “Pwease, Mommy? Pwease can Bryan stay? Wittle Bear’s having ’tato salad. I wike ’tato salad and I bet Bwyan does, too. You make the best ’tato salad, Mommy.”

  Trevor was going to break hearts left and right when he grew up, the little charmer. If only Bryan were as charming…

  Actually, that was the problem. Bryan was that charming. His assumptions weren’t. Nor was his holier-than-thou, you-owe-me attitude. He hadn’t even paid her to be at his sexual beck and call yet; why did he think he was entitled to anything having to do with the rest of her life? And now he’d put her in the rotten position of having to be the bad guy when he should have that title all sewn up.

  “Actually, Trevor, I’m going to take your mommy out to dinner if that’s all right with you?”

  Low. Very low, using a kid like that.

  “On a date?” Trevor’s eyes lit up like a strobe light.

  She could already see the one-plus-one-equals-three equation in her son’s head. This was getting more complicated by the minute. She was going to have to lay down the law and Bryan had handed her the perfect opportunity.

  “No, he doesn’t mean a date, Trevor. Bryan and I have to have a grownup talk so I’m going to see if Cathy will let you play with Bobby tonight.”

  “Can I sweep over?”

  She felt Bryan stiffen beside her. Great. This was so not a position she wanted to be in. Trevor and Bobby loved sleeping over each others’ houses, and, frankly, so did the parents. Some much needed parental time off. But the last thing she wanted Bryan to know was that she had the house to herself tonight. No need to encourage the guy. Of course, that’d be moot once she told him what he could do with his ten grand.

  “We’ll see, honey. I have to talk to Cathy.”

  “Okay, but I’m gonna get Mister Monkey just in case.”

  How nice it must be to have your focus changed so easily. Bryan’s focus was boring into her back.

  She turned around. “Fine. If Cathy can watch Trevor, we’ll do dinner.”

  “Okay. Seven o’clock at Tosco’s.”

  It wasn’t a question. Insufferable. He hadn’t even paid her and already he was dictating where and how she spent her time.

  Jenna shook her head. She had to remember that she really wasn’t at his beck and call. That she wasn’t accepting his money for anything. And public humiliation in Tosco’s would tell him so in no uncertain terms.

  “Fine. Seven o’clock. I’ll be there.”

  He adjusted his glasses. “We’ll settle up then.”

  “Darn right,” she muttered.

  She was so going to enjoy flinging his money back in his face. Let the town gossips do with that what they would. At least she’d have made her point that she wasn’t what he’d claimed and would clear her name in the process.

  And maybe blacken his.

  Chapter Nine

  Bryan couldn’t believe she was actually going to take the money. Seeing her with her son—their son—he just couldn’t reconcile the two images: the stripper who slept with guys she didn’t remember, and the woman who was so loving and protective of her child that the kid didn’t have a clue what went on under their roof. If not for the fact that she wanted to settle up tonight he’d be questioning having reported her because Trevor was so well adjusted. He almost wished she’d flung his offer in his face.

  He patted his pocket where the ten-K rested. Such a large amount of money ought to weigh more.

  He opened the door to the restaurant and his mou
th started to water from the aroma of buttery garlic bread, roasted peppers, Veal Sorrento… not because he’d soon be seeing Jenna.

  “Table for one?” The hostess gave him a long, slow once-over, but Bryan wasn’t interested. She looked like she was right out of high school and he was going to have to be the one to set a good moral example for Trevor since his mother wasn’t.

  “Two. Secluded, if you wouldn’t mind.” Let her make of that what she wanted; he wanted to make sure he and Jenna weren’t interrupted as well as keep his eyes in the shadows. He’d play his hand after she took the money.

  The girl sighed and straightened. “This way.” She led him through the linen-covered tables, the soft chink of silverware and chafing dishes tinkling beneath vintage Sinatra.

  Bryan felt the stares. He’d been used to them in high school because the state championship had been a big deal, but the ones he’d gotten when he and Gage had applied for a permit for BeefCake, Inc… notsomuch. Narrow-minded prejudice and incorrect assumptions had almost cost them the planning commission’s approval. Only Gage’s fiancée’s contact and the viability of their proposition to create jobs and revitalize a blighted building had saved them. But people still knew who he was and clung to their opinions.

  “Here you go.” The girl stepped aside next to his chair. Slightly. Far enough that he could pull the chair out, but close enough that her breasts were within brushing-up against distance. Had she attended Jenna’s “classes”?

  Not the mindset he should be in to have this conversation.

  Bryan took his seat, managing to keep his body parts exactly where they should be, then slid his napkin to his thigh. “I’m waiting for Jenna Corrigan. Do you know her?”

  She gaped at him. “Ms. Corrigan? Sure, I know her. Everyone does.”

  Bryan was afraid of that.

  “I’ll send her over as soon as she gets here.” The gaping mouth was replaced with a smile and yet another perusal, though this one wasn’t the blatantly suggestive one she’d given him earlier. If pressed, he would have said it was more questioning.

  Probably wondering why he had to pay for it.

 

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