Bad Behavior

by Kristin Hardy

  And it was that that had him going over, spilling himself in her, pulling her against him, coming so hard that it felt as if it came from his very bones.

  13

  THE SOUND OF THE SEA coming through the windows woke her. Or maybe it was the morning light, shining in through the row of east-facing windows high up on the bedroom wall. Or the fact that she was alone. Delaney frowned and felt the bed beside her only to find the sheets cool to the touch.

  “Dom?” she said aloud.

  There was no answer.

  Rising, she saw her dress from the night before in a crumpled heap. She draped it over a chair and went instead to the closet. There had to be something there, even if it was only a shirt. She found a royal blue robe of thick, soft terry cloth. Dom definitely knew about life’s finer things, she thought as she tied the sash around her waist. Then again, she was beginning to think Dom was one of life’s finer things.

  She was padding down the stairs in search of him when she heard it: the tapping of computer keys. Mystery solved. From the landing, she looked out across the living room where Dom sat on the couch, laptop in, well, lap.

  He glanced up and a smile broke over his face. “There she is,” he said.

  Delaney yawned as she made her way down to the living-room level. “What time is it?”

  “Around eight, I think.”

  She gave him a look of horror. “Eight a.m. on a Saturday? That’s immoral. I should have at least another hour to sleep in.”

  “Go back to bed. No reason you should be up.”

  “It’s all right, you’re worth waking up for,” she said as she leaned over the back of the couch to press a kiss on him. He looked uncommonly good with his morning shadow and messed up hair. He wore the shorts from the night before and a navy T-shirt.

  And he had a coffee mug in his hand.

  Delaney closed her eyes and sniffed. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked.

  “Sure. Want a cup?” He made as if to rise but she waved him down.

  “I’m already up. I can get it if you don’t mind me poking through your cupboards.”

  “Cabinets to the left of the sink,” he directed. “There’s milk in the refrigerator and sugar in the canister.”

  “Perfect.” She gave him another kiss. “If I’m not back in a day, send the Mounties.”

  “If you’re not back in a day I’ll come looking myself.”

  By the time she returned, she was more or less awake. Dom was in the same position as she’d left him, typing madly. She settled on the couch beside him. “So how long have you been up?”

  He shrugged. “Since about five or so.”

  “You are a sick man,” she said positively. “Gorgeous, but sick. Why on earth are you getting up at 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday?”

  “Too much to do, not enough time. Waking up early is the only way to find more hours in the day.”

  She gave him a suspicious look. “You’re not one of those people who never sleeps, are you?”

  “I sleep when I can.” He raised his coffee mug. “When certain sexually insatiable women will let me.”

  “Well, if you’re going to start calling names…” Setting down her own coffee, she took the cup from his hand and moved his computer aside.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She winked at him. “Now I’m going to work.”

  “I’LL BUY YOU BREAKFAST if you drive,” Delaney offered as she toweled her hair dry sometime later.

  “I’ve got bagels, if you want.”

  “That’ll work, too.” She followed him down to the kitchen. “So what about the rest of the day? What do you want to do?”

  Undress her and get right back into bed. Unfortunately, there was a mountain of work clamoring for his attention. Not even putting in eighteen hour days while he was gone had allowed him to keep up. “Much as I’d love to take the day off, I’ve got to work.”

  She stared at him as though he were a loon. “You are aware it’s the weekend, right?”

  Dom nodded. And he probably was a loon for turning down a day with a woman who looked so uncommonly delicious in one of his old shirts and shorts. “I know, but with the road show, things have gotten stacked up.”

  “The road show? You mean the one where you worked every waking hour you were gone, that one?” She rested one fist on her hip. “Don’t you think you could give yourself a day off just to relax before you dive back in? I could put in a word with the boss for you.”

  It was tempting. She was even more so. Still…“I’ve got a lot to get done.”

  “And you’ll be more efficient at it after a break. Hell, I’m not even saying take the day off and do anything with me. Just catching up on your sleep would probably help. Do sudoku. Read the paper. On the other hand, if you didn’t want to sleep, we could play.”

  Eyes sparkling, she leaned in against him, looking frisky and fetching and altogether wonderful. The smile spread over his face. “Oh, yeah? So what do you have in mind?” He cupped her ass.

  “Well, there’s that, of course, but we could do anything. Depends on what you like. Drive go-carts or play miniature golf at Fun World. Go to the beach. Stop in at the Getty,” she ticked off. “We could hit the batting cages.”

  “The batting cages?”

  “I’ll bet I get more hits than you.” There was devilry in her smile. “Come on, take a day off and see if the sky falls. I dare you.”

  “You think you can outhit me?” he repeated.

  She raised her chin. “Guaranteed.”

  “What if you’re wrong? What do I get if I win?”

  “Any sexual favor of your choice.”

  His lips twitched. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not looking to win?”

  “It really is sad to see such cynicism in one so young,” Delaney said with a shake of her head.

  In the end, they went to the beach.

  Next to sex, Dom discovered, there was nothing to get his mind off work like surfing. It was a purely physical endeavor that required complete focus. Especially for a guy like him, who hadn’t been on his board in about six years. He was definitely rusty but it was some comfort that he could still ride a wave. And ride he did, jockeying for position on the uneven break at Surfside, carving his way across the ocean.

  Finally, exhausted, he went back to the beach to flop on his towel by Delaney.

  “Have fun?” She glanced up from the magazine she’d grabbed when they’d stopped by her house. The bikini this time was tangerine colored, to match the shiny orange crescents that hung at her ears.

  “You’re a goddess.”

  She peered over the top of her sunglasses. “So I’ve been told,” she said modestly. “Why this time, in particular?”

  He leaned over and kissed her, hard. “For getting me out here. Man, I had no idea how much I’ve missed that.”

  “You know what they say about all work and no play,” she observed. “But we’re only ten minutes from your house. I’d think you were here a lot.”

  “That’s what I thought, too, when I bought the place.” He shrugged and lay back. “I never seem to get around to it.”

  “Gee, let me guess. Working?”

  He nodded. “Working.”

  “Like the deck.” She tossed her magazine aside and leaned over him, propping her arms on his chest. “I can clearly see that I’ve got a new job, which is to teach you how to play again. There’ll be a fee, though.”

  “Oh, really?” he asked, his hands resting on her hips, which did seem to be about the perfect place for them.

  “Payable in orgasms.” Her eyes gleamed. “I think your first payment’s due here pretty quick.”

  He grinned. “It’s a good thing we’re only ten minutes from my house.”

  “Good planning,” she agreed. “Let’s go.”

  HER JAW WAS BEGINNING TO hurt from smiling all the time, Delaney thought a few days later at kickball. Having the job of making a guy have fun wasn’t a bad gig, especially w
hen the person she got to play with was Dom Gordon. She’d managed to lure him into playing hooky nearly every night, whether it was to go out or merely to hang. Actually, it didn’t matter—if they weren’t playing, they were laughing, and if they weren’t laughing, they were having sex.

  And sometimes they were doing all three at once.

  “What’s that grin about?” Meghan demanded as they sat on the grass, stretching before the game.

  Delaney bent forward, reaching for her toes. “I’m just high on life.”

  Meghan snorted. “High on your new boyfriend, you mean. I saw you guys kissing goodbye the other morning.”

  “I don’t think we’ve graduated to boyfriend/girlfriend status yet.”

  “Hunka hunka burnin’ love?” Meghan offered, eyes dancing behind her glasses.

  “We’re…” Delaney didn’t know what they were, quite frankly. It felt good. Something she wasn’t accustomed to for too long in a relationship. Her usual bad boys weren’t about comfort and they definitely weren’t about long-term. So what did it mean that things with Dom felt so great, whether they were running around or just doing nothing at all? She wasn’t getting hooked on him, was she? Or turning into one of those boring, settled people, was she?

  Nope, she decided. Not an issue. It was just a good time, nothing more. “Friends with benefits,” she decided, straightening.

  “Yeah?” Meghan held on to her toes. “Good luck fooling yourself on that one. A guy who looks like that, you ought to watch it or you’ll lose him to some hot babe with ambitions of being a soccer mom. Speaking of which, I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

  “Nice segue,” Delaney said admiringly as she stood to begin stretching from side to side.

  “Thanks. Remember I told you about coaching soccer for my niece’s team?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, one of the dads who usually helps out has other commitments weekend after next and everybody else is busy with other stuff. Would you mind helping us out?”

  Delaney frowned. “I don’t know a thing about soccer. I mean, there’s a ball and you kick it, but…” They rose and began walking to where the rest of the team was clustering.

  “You don’t have to know anything. They’re five. Trust me, strategy doesn’t enter into it. They just swarm the ball. I mostly need someone to help me keep them in order. One game only,” Meghan promised. “Two hours, tops.”

  “You swear? Because Dom’s going to be home that weekend and I don’t want to miss time with him.” Wow. When had she begun calculating her free time around him?

  A snatch of Franz Ferdinand ring tone had Delaney staring at the pile of gym bags piled up by the bench.

  “Wait a minute, we’re getting ready to start,” Meghan protested as Delaney hurried over to them, a flutter of excitement in her veins.

  “It won’t take long,” she said and dug out her phone. Just a quick hello, a chance to hear his voice. He was on travel again, and opportunities for phone calls were few and far in between. They had to seize them while they could.

  It wasn’t Dom, though, but Kelly. Delaney glanced at the group on the field and snapped open her phone. “Be fast, it’s almost kickoff, we’re getting ready to start.”

  “I need you to do something for me tonight,” Kelly said immediately. “Can you get free around seven-thirty?”

  “Maybe,” she said doubtfully.

  “Pretty please? It’s an emergency.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Well, not an emergency, emergency, but it’s important. What do you know about Lamaze?”

  “Lamaze?” Delaney repeated as the team scattered to their positions. “What about Lamaze?”

  THE ROOM HAD ALL OF THE comfort and serenity of the massage area at some tony day spa. The colors were soothing tones of blue and green. Quiet harp music played. The air was warm, the furnishings soft, including the floor mats. It was the next best thing to a womb.

  And it was full of more pregnant women than Delaney had ever seen together in one spot. Still breathing hard from rushing into the building, she stood and stared. They were everywhere, lying on the floor, gathering in groups, walking around, their enormous stomachs leading the way. She would have sworn that if she listened hard, she could hear a few dozen tiny heartbeats pitter-pattering along. Unconsciously, her hand drifted to her stomach.

  “Delaney, over here.”

  Delaney started at Kelly’s voice and taking a breath, walked over to where she sat on the floor. Delaney said, “I swear you get bigger every time I see you.”

  “Yeah.” Kelly beamed and patted her swollen belly. “If it’s a boy, I think we’re definitely looking at a linebacker.”

  Four weeks before on the beach, Kelly had only looked a little thick through the waist. Now, she was pregnant, absolutely, positively, indubitably pregnant. Kelly Vandervere—Cooper, Delaney corrected herself—was going to have a baby. Of course, all the pregnant women in the room were, but this was someone who’d been Delaney’s regular companion on the party circuit, someone with whom she’d danced on tables, compared notes with after one-night stands.

  Change. It was playing out all around Delaney. And she felt very much as though she were being pushed inexorably closer to the edge of a cliff she wasn’t at all ready to leap from, at least not yet.

  Change. She felt like it was happening whether she wanted it to or not.

  Shaking the thoughts away, Delaney eased down on the floor beside her friend. “So tell me again why you’ve been abandoned?”

  “Kev’s had to do a one-day reshoot with Sabrina and Stef for their jazz documentary. Trish was supposed to sub for me but she got sick. Thea’s in Portland, Cilla’s in Milan and Paige had a client meeting. But you were my first choice,” she added hastily.

  “I know you don’t love me,” Delaney told her as she folded her legs beneath her. “You never have. It all comes out.” She rubbed her hands together. “But now you’re in my clutches.”

  “We’re both in her clutches, more like.” Kelly glanced up to the front where the instructor had stepped into place.

  She wasn’t the earth mother Delaney had imagined. Then again, why should she have been? This was L.A. The instructor wore a white tank top with royal blue parachute pants and white Avias. A magenta scrunchie held her honey-blond hair in a high ponytail. Forget about Birkenstocks and midwives, this woman looked more like that aerobics instructor combination of cheerleader and drill sergeant.

  “Okay, everyone, let’s get started.” Her voice was brisk, no-nonsense.

  “Great,” Delaney muttered to Kelly. “We’re being taught by Lamaze Action Doll.”

  “Lamaze Action Doll,” Kelly muttered fifteen minutes later. “More like Boot Camp Action Doll.”

  “And have you all been doing your exercises?” Tiny and relentless, the instructor paced around the room, fixing them with a sharp gaze. “Everybody who has, raise your hand.”

  Several hands around the room shot up. “Suck ups,” Kelly said under her breath, waving her hand half-heartedly as Action Doll stared at her. “Where do they find the time?”

  “Ignore them,” Delaney soothed. “They were probably all teachers’ pets in elementary school.”

  The stretching looked nice. Relaxing. Then they started into the leg and abs work and it didn’t look relaxing at all. And the whole time, the instructor walked around, moving body parts, standing over them to offer what Delaney imagined she thought of as encouragement.

  If Delaney had been Kelly, she’d have strangled the woman. Kelly just lay there, red-faced, struggling gamely.

  “Seven, eight, nine, and ten,” the instructor shouted. “Come on ladies, work that pelvic floor.”

  “Now there’s one that you don’t hear every day,” Delaney murmured.

  “Work that pelvic floor? My pelvic floor is permanently broken,” Kelly moaned.

  “Breathe,” Delaney reminded her.

  “That’s for during labor.”

  “It
’s for dealing with pain, isn’t it?” Delaney asked.

  Kelly began to breathe.

  And Delaney took in her circumstances. From her perspective on the floor, the room was filled with a bunch of small mountains. The top of the woman nearest Kelly had slipped up. Without warning, a lump appeared on one side of her belly.

  “And one, and two, and three, and four,” chanted Lamaze Barbie.

  Delaney couldn’t help but stare.

  There was a baby inside there, a life. Forget about feeling out of step with the gang. Here, Delaney was truly out of sync. These women were moving into a phase of life that she’d never seriously entertained before. Committing to a man for the duration, building a life together, that was an alarming enough change. Having a kid? That would be Change.

  No way, was her first thought. Not happening, ever. But somehow, amid the deafening vibrations of fertility in the room, she heard a tiny voice whisper “someday.”

  The lump subsided.

  After what seemed like way too long a time, the Lamaze instructor eventually relented. “Okay, everyone, relax for a few minutes and we’ll talk about breathing.”

  “See?”

  Kelly’s head fell back to the mat. “This part, I can do,” she gasped.

  “Breathing is one of your most important tools in the birthing process,” the instructor resumed. “It keeps you relaxed and oxygenated. Now, we covered the deep breaths used for early labor last week. When you move through transition and you’re getting ready for delivery, though, you’ll want to use short pants.” She demonstrated, looking a little like an out-of-breath Chihuahua. “All right, everybody, practice. And coaches, don’t forget to be supportive. You’re going through the birth, too.”

  “Okay, breathe,” Delaney said, doing her best to emulate the instructor.

  “I’m hyperventilating,” Kelly complained.

  “Isn’t that the point? You get so dizzy you pass out so you miss the whole delivery.”

  “Forget that. I want drugs.”

  “THIS IS MY FAVORITE part about Lamaze class,” Kelly announced as they sat in a café down the street.

  “What, not moving?”