A Silken Thread
Page 3
He saw in his wife’s eyes the frown she couldn’t hide. Erica’s friendship with April North was another thorn in her side, something she’d always considered an evil. He’d always been proud of Erica for standing up to her mother on that particular issue, refusing to let Karen choose her friends, just as he was proud of Erica for refusing to let Karen manipulate her into marrying Griffin.
“Well, either we let Griffin verify she’s all right or I’m calling Bob.”
Bob Denison was the chief of police in Hattersville. Wilson was well aware that his wife had practically bankrolled the man’s last couple of reelection campaigns, which put him in Karen’ back pocket pretty damn deep.
“Don’t involve Bob,” he said, reaching for his jacket. “I’ll go check on Erica myself.”
He didn’t add that he needed a reason to get out of the house, a reason to dismiss himself from her presence. Little did she know that, although she would badger him on occasion about the hours he put in at the firm, the main reason he did so was because he’d rather be there than here.
There was no need to pretend that he was in love with his wife, because he wasn’t. And the sad thing about it was that he never had been. But then, she hadn’t ever loved him, either, so any absence of emotions on his part didn’t warrant a guilt trip. Their marriage had started off from day one as a business arrangement. At least that’s how their parents had explained it to them. Now, thirty years later, nothing had changed other than their ages and the fact that during one of those rare times they’d made love they had produced a daughter.
He wondered if Karen had ever considered getting out of their farce of a marriage. Had she ever thought about wanting more or mulled over how it would be to really fall in love? Had she asked him for a divorce he would have gladly given her one. But she’d never asked, which meant she was satisfied with how things were between them. He was not. Never had been. And lately he was beginning to realize just how dissatisfied he was.
“When you find Erica, please let me know she’s all right.”
He worked the jacket over his shoulders. “Erica’s not lost, Karen. When are you going to realize and accept she’s a grown woman and not a child?”
Of course her response was one he didn’t want to hear, and a weary sigh flowed from his lips as he left the room.
“Close your eyes and open your mouth, sweetheart.”
Erica smiled and did what Brian asked. The moment she felt the spoon enter her mouth and tasted the chocolate concoction on her tongue she couldn’t help but moan.
She opened her eyes. “It’s delicious, Brian. Where did you get the recipe?”
They were standing in her kitchen. He was barefoot and shirtless and his jeans hung low on his hips. She was wearing his dress shirt and nothing else. After making love a second time he had dragged her out of bed and into the kitchen. They had ordered pizza and he had taken over her kitchen to make his favorite sweet treat. Brownies. And to top them off he’d made a mouthwatering chocolate sauce.
“It’s one of Mom’s. She uses it in her cake batter sometimes to make it moister.”
She nodded as she licked her lips. She’d been serious when she’d said the sauce was delicious and she couldn’t wait until the brownies cooled so they could layer it on top of them. The coffee had been brewing and she was anxious to pour a cup to go along with them.
“And how is your mom?” she asked.
He smiled as he turned back to the stove. “She’s great. Her contract with the Hastings Corporation was renewed, which means even more international travels for her. But she loves it.”
Erica leaned against the kitchen counter. She had met Brian’s mother months ago, the first time she’d visited him in Dallas. At first she’d found it hard to believe that the woman was old enough to have given birth to him. She looked to be in her early forties instead of fifty-two. And upon their introduction, Erica had immediately felt a genuine warmth emanating from her. She hadn’t known what to expect, since she’d figured out early in their relationship that Brian and his mother were rather close.
“Is she looking forward to the engagement party my parents are planning for us?” she decided to ask.
“Of course.”
Erica’s brows lifted in surprise. “She is?”
Brian chuckled. “Yes.”
At her doubtful look, he leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips. His eyes were gentle and held a depth of understanding that she couldn’t help but appreciate. “I told you not to worry, Erica. Everything will be fine. Mom knows your mother doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”
Hearing him put her mother’s very thoughts into words made her shiver. “And knowing all of that, she hasn’t talked you out of marrying me?”
His laughter filled the room and he pulled her into his arms. “Baby, no one can talk me out of marrying you. Besides, Mom wouldn’t think of doing so anyway. She’s gotten to know you and thinks I’m a lucky man, and I can’t help but agree.”
Erica shook her head. There were times when she felt she’d somehow found favor with the man upstairs. Surely no woman could be this lucky. Months before meeting Brian she’d been reading articles about how hard it was for women to find good men. And as far as she was concerned the cream of the crop had been dropped into her lap when she had least expected it.
She had needed to get away from her home for the summer and April suggested her place on the beach in South Carolina. Erica didn’t hesitate to take her friend up on her offer. April was to join her for at least half of the time but an unexpected modeling gig had kept her in Paris longer than either of them anticipated.
The thought of spending her time alone did not bother Erica. She had packed up enough books to read and DVDs to watch. But loneliness was never an issue. She had met Brian during her first week there.
“I hope you know that I won’t let what your mother thinks influence me in any way. You’re her daughter, so she wants the best for you.” A smile curved the corners of his lips when he added, “It’s just taking her a little time to figure out what’s best for you is me.”
“Oh, you,” she said, laughing, gently punching him in the arm and giving him a playful shove. “You’re beginning to sound conceited.”
“Am I?”
“A little.”
Whatever else she was about to say died in her throat when he took a step closer, recovering the distance between them. Her gaze met his before it lowered slightly to his mouth. There lay the crux of a lot of their problems whenever they were alone. If she concentrated on his mouth for too long she would start remembering all the naughty things he could do with it.
She watched the corners of that same mouth curve into a seductive smile. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”
Like she really had to tell him. He already knew the answer, so why had he bothered to ask? But since he had she might as well respond. “Your taste.” It couldn’t get any plainer than that.
“Why think about it when you can sample it? Again.” He said the words in a deep rumbling voice with the casual ease of a man who was not only sure of himself but also of the woman he was with.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and melted against him. “Good question. Why should I waste my time thinking about it?”
She saw the intense look of desire in his eyes just moments before she leaned up on tiptoes and brought her mouth to his. His kisses were the foundation that pleasure was built on. A feeling of something totally right filled every part of her when he captured her tongue with his to give her the taste she wanted.
She closed her eyes and became lost in the intensity of the emotions flooding her. When he suddenly pulled back, breaking off the kiss, she opened her eyes and watched a smile touch his lips.
“Sounds like our pizza has arrived,” he said.
When she just stared at him with a questioning look on her face, he added, “The doorbell sounded. Didn’t you hear it?”
She shook her head and managed
her own smile. She hadn’t heard anything for feeling so deeply. “No. I think you’d better answer the door. I’m not dressed to be seen.”
His gaze roamed the length of her. His shirt stopped above the knee and showed a generous amount of thigh. More thigh than she wanted anyone else to see.
“I agree. You can take the brownies out of the oven. They should be done now.”
Brian couldn’t help but smile as he walked out of the kitchen and headed toward the front door. They had ordered pizza from this particular restaurant before while he’d been in town and he knew their pizzas were totally delicious. But nothing, he thought, was as delicious as the kiss he’d just shared with Erica.
After pizza and brownies they would head back to bed. He was definitely looking forward to more time beneath the covers with her. He had spent his days in Dallas working hard and his nights missing her like crazy. Their nightly phone calls had helped, except for those times when she would intentionally add a little steam into the mix. Then he would go to bed with a longing and a hard-on that couldn’t be assuaged.
Brian opened the door expecting to find the deliveryman standing there with their pizza, but instead he met the gaze of Erica’s father. It was obvious the man was as surprised to see Brian as Brian was to see him. He greeted Mr. Sanders with as much calm as he could muster as he stepped aside to let him enter. “Hello, Mr. Sanders.”
The older man lifted a brow after taking note of Brian’s bare chest and low-hanging jeans, which he hadn’t bothered to snap. His gaze then returned to Brian’s face. He looked thoughtfully at him for a moment and then said, “Brian. I didn’t know you were coming to town.”
Brian swallowed. From the way he was dressed it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he and Erica had been doing earlier. To him it was no big deal, since they would be getting married in a few months, but he figured to her father it probably was a big deal.
“I wasn’t sure I could get away until the last minute and I wanted to surprise Erica.”
When Mr. Sanders didn’t say anything, Brian then continued by adding an explanation of why he’d come to the door half-dressed. “I thought you were the pizza deliveryman.”
“Did you?” Wilson asked mildly.
“Yes. You’re out sort of late, aren’t you?” Brian wished he could take back the words the moment he’d said them. The last thing he wanted to do was insinuate that the man could not visit his daughter whenever it suited him.
“Yes, it is rather late. Karen tried calling and when she couldn’t reach Erica she got worried. I volunteered to come over to make sure everything was all right.”
Brian didn’t know what to say to that, considering what they’d been doing when Erica hadn’t answered the phone earlier. He was about to ask Mr. Sanders if he wanted something to drink, since he didn’t seem to be the least little bit in a hurry to leave. Before they could exchange any further conversation, Erica’s voice filled the room and she suddenly rounded the corner from the kitchen.
“Brian, what’s taking you so long to bring the pizza in the—”
She stopped in her tracks, frozen in place when she saw her father standing in the middle of her living room. “Dad!”
Wilson’s gaze alighted on his daughter and her skimpy attire. Brian immediately picked up on the fact that the older man was seeing Erica in a whole new light. He no longer saw her as Daddy’s little girl, but as a woman who was obviously intimately involved with a man.
Brian had dated enough women to know some fathers could get weird when it came to discovering their daughters weren’t the innocents they’d thought them to be. But in the man’s defense, he could understand and even see himself becoming that kind of father one day if he ever had a daughter. Especially if she looked anything like Erica.
Wilson finally responded. “Erica.” And then as if he’d made a decision to accept the situation, he smiled, winked and said, “Nice shirt.”
Brian couldn’t help but admire the man for how he was handling things. He didn’t want to think how differently things would have been had it been Erica’s mother who’d shown up unexpectedly.
He watched Erica’s features and knew she was grateful for her father’s acceptance of their relationship. She returned his smile. “Thanks.”
And then her expression became serious when she asked, “Why did you drop by this late? Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. Your mother tried calling you a few times and couldn’t reach you and was worried.”
“Oh.”
Brian decided then to speak up. “Erica and I will be having a pizza when it’s delivered, Mr. Sanders. You’re welcome to stay and join us.”
Wilson turned his attention to Brian. “No, thanks. Now that I know Erica is fine, I’ll be leaving.”
“Dad, you can stay for a while if you want. Like Brian said, we’ve ordered pizza and he’s made brownies and—”
“No, sweetheart. You and Brian spend enough time away from each other as it is and I won’t intrude.”
“You won’t be,” Erica quickly said.
Wilson chuckled. “Yes, I will be.” He glanced back at Brian. “We’re looking forward to meeting your family in a few weeks.”
“Thanks, sir, and my mother and grandparents are looking forward to meeting you and Mrs. Sanders, as well.” That was no lie. His family adored Erica and couldn’t wait to meet her family at the engagement dinner.
At that moment the doorbell sounded. “That’s probably your pizza deliveryman,” Wilson pointed out. “I’ll leave now.”
Before he could turn toward the door, Erica moved quickly across the room to her father and kissed him on his cheek. “’Bye, Dad. Thanks for caring enough to come by to check on me. I love you.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll always care and I love you, too.” He then looked at Brian and unspoken communication passed between them. It was a message that Brian deciphered immediately. I’m depending on you to make her happy. Please don’t let either of us down.
It hit Brian just then what the magnitude of the man’s thoughts meant. In a roundabout way, Wilson was bestowing his blessing on them. Brian nodded and then said, “I’ll walk you to the door, Mr. Sanders.”
He was grateful Erica hung back, allowing him time alone with her father. Before opening the door, he said, “I love Erica, Mr. Sanders, and I intend to spend the rest of my life making her happy.”
Wilson nodded and then smiled. “And that’s all the father of a future bride can ask for. Good night, Brian.”
Chapter Three
April glanced down at the pooch that was walking beside her on the leash and decided this was one of the primary reasons she didn’t own a pet. They required too much attention, which was why she was out here at eleven o’clock walking the dog instead of back inside her grandmother’s house curled up in bed.
In a way, she couldn’t get mad at Fluffy, the white Yorkie terrier she’d purchased for her grandmother as company when she’d landed her first modeling job. A few years later, after her career had soared to unprecedented heights and she’d married Mark, she’d purchased her grandmother a house in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Hattersville, along with furnishings and a live-in housekeeper.
Now both Fluffy and Melba were family to her grandmother, which meant a lot to April when she had to fly all over the world for work.
Fluffy stopped walking and April paused right along with her. Evidently this area was one of the dog’s favorites to do his business. April loosened her hold on the leash and glanced around, thinking if anyone had told her she would be returning to her birthplace as often as she was now, she would not have believed them. She’d barely been able to wait until she’d finished high school to blow this town. But her grandmother, the one person she adored and loved in this life, hadn’t wanted to move away with her.
Nana said Hattersville was her home. She had been born here and she wanted to die here. April hadn’t known just how much her
grandmother had meant those words until her senior year in college when her constant badgering to get Nana to move out west with her had led to Nana’s heart attack.
While her grandmother was in the hospital April had tearfully promised not to broach the subject again.
Even if that meant the burden of travel would fall on April, since her grandmother refused to fly.
The one thing she’d been able to convince her grandmother to do years later was to move out of her shabby house in the Fifth Ward, and live in the house April had purchased for her on, of all places, Wellington Road. April recalled how Nana had made a living as the housekeeper and nanny for some of the homeowners on this very street. Now Nana had her own grand place with a live-in housekeeper of her own, and April didn’t know of anyone more deserving.
Her grandmother had always been there for her. After giving birth to her at sixteen, her mother had left the state a few days later, leaving April with her grandmother to raise. No one knew the identity of her father; it was a secret her mother had taken to the grave with her. The year April turned ten, Latonia North had come home from living a wild life in Miami, just long enough to spend a few months with her mother and daughter before dying of lung cancer. April hadn’t known the woman who had shown up, nothing but skin and bones, at her and Nana’s house near the tracks. But now a part of April regretted not having known her and she wondered if her mother had died with the same regret.
She leaned against a tree and glanced at her watch before taking a quick peek over at Fluffy, and then wished she hadn’t. It seemed the dog was just getting started. It was getting rather late and anyone in Hattersville with a lick of sense was in their bed getting a good night’s sleep. She could have awakened Melba and had her take Fluffy out, but she knew that Nana and Melba had stayed up late playing cards and had just gotten into bed. They had gotten so involved in their game that neither remembered to walk the dog. Anyway, she herself was used to crazy hours and changes in time zones with her irregular work schedule as a model.