What a Woman Needs

by Judi Fennell

  The kids. Hell. She’d had to get them out of there quickly. She could see the same bug-eyed look on Kelsey’s face that she’d worn when one reporter—a seemingly gracious, caring young woman, had spoken softly to Kelsey up until the scene had gone live, then grilled a ten-year-old about what it was like to lose her father.

  Beth had seen red and almost shoved the woman away. Instead, she’d ended the interview and hustled Kelsey back to the car. She did the same thing in the grocery store.

  So now, here they were, all at home, the specter of Mike’s death hanging over them, and Beth was dreading opening the front door. She couldn’t face Bryan. She just couldn’t. She had to hold it together for the kids, make them dinner, and pretend that everything was as it should be.

  She took a deep breath and unlocked her front door, praying Jason hadn’t managed to turn the order Bryan had brought to her home into yet one more tornado.

  She wasn’t holding out much hope.

  Except when she opened the door, she stared at the family room in amazement. The room was spotless. It was straightened. Even the bookshelf was in order. And the magazines. Mike had been military and even he couldn’t have stacked them any straighter.

  Dragging the four younger kids and six bags of groceries into the kitchen, she got another shock. The cat flap was on the back door, the drain board was nowhere to be seen, the leaky faucet wasn’t leaking, every fingerprint was gone from the stainless steel fridge, and the artwork was lined up nice and neat with a magnet on every corner, the kitchen floor spotless enough to eat off of, and the three missing cabinet knobs had been found and replaced.

  Unless Jason’s body had been taken over by aliens, Bryan had done this.

  “Mark, pick up those marshmallows, please,” she said as her son dropped the half-eaten bag they’d bought at the supermarket onto the table—only to miss and have them scatter onto the floor, Bryan’s hard work undone in two seconds.

  “But Mom, Sherman will eat them.”

  That’s what she was afraid of.

  And, of course, on cue, Sherman came racing into the room and vacuumed up several of the treats before she could get to him. And then he started wheezing. Great. Another trip to the vet.

  Luckily, she stroked his throat and got the marshmallows down. Mark and Tommy got a stern lecture on the hazards of feeding Sherman things that dogs shouldn’t eat, and they all put away the groceries and other items so that the kitchen and their rooms looked exactly as Bryan had left them.

  Beth walked into her room with the bag of toiletries and wasn’t surprised to see that Bryan had been there. He’d said he would and he had.

  That shouldn’t surprise her—and it didn’t, not really—but he’d been in her room. Moving her things to dust. Seeing where she slept. Bathed.

  Her thighs tingled at the intimacy that implied. Sure, he’d had cleaning products in hand, but after that kiss . . . She’d been the one to end it. Her sense of self-preservation had kicked in and she’d wanted to kick herself. But the kids came first. They had to and Bryan’s lifestyle wasn’t what she wanted for them. If she’d even had a chance at it. Kissing did not a commitment make, and Bryan had such an amazing career, she couldn’t ever see him giving it up for this. Real life.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  Though real life had just shifted ninety degrees to the right. Jason’s hair was . . . gelled back? “Jason?” She could actually see his face, but she still wasn’t sure it was him.

  “Yeah, I, uh, straightened up the basement and was wondering if I could have some of the guys over for gamer night?”

  He’d attempted these all-nighters before and they usually fizzled out about three in the morning. They’d sleep ’til noon, then head home with a late morning pancake breakfast in them that Jason had always helped her prepare. If that was the price of all the work Jason did and the new hair, Beth was all for it.

  Kelsey, of course, then had to have her friends over, and Mark and Tommy had to have their friends over, so Maggie did, too, and, well, at least obsessing about keeping the dozen and a half kids in her home separated by gender and age kept her from obsessing about Bryan all night.

  At least until the phone calls started.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BRIGHT and early—too damn early—the next morning, Beth was fielding phone calls. She shouldn’t have been surprised, given the circus in the grocery store, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

  And after the fifteenth call, she’d had enough. She called all the sleepover kids’ parents, gave them her cell number, then unplugged the house phone.

  That only escalated things. By noon, the news vans were parked on her street.

  Beth called all the parents back and let them know what was about to descend upon her home and suggested they pick up their kids in front of the neighbor’s house behind her, then called her neighbor to warn her about the teens crossing her yard, rounded all the kids up, and instructed Jason and Kelsey to lead them out the back while she went to the front porch as if this were some covert operation. Her neighbor, Jillian, would keep the kids there until the coast was clear.

  In theory, it would work. In reality, Beth was a mass of shaking nerves. She didn’t want to talk to these people. It was no one’s business what Bryan was doing at her house. There was no reason this should make news, and while it wasn’t the scandal that Mike’s death had been, it didn’t make it any less invasive.

  She did, at least, manage to button her blouse correctly and make sure she was wearing makeup and clothing with no stains, but that didn’t make her feel any better. Microphones were shoved in her face and questions shouted at her as if this were a national emergency that everyone needed the answers to immediately.

  “Does Bryan really clean or is he doing this for a movie role?”

  “Is this a publicity stunt?’

  “How were you chosen?”

  “What do your kids think of you having a man in the house again?”

  That was the question that made her freeze. The one that shut her down. And almost made her cry.

  “Bryan is not the man in my house and even if he were, that’s none of your damn business. Can’t you people leave me alone? Leave him alone? Why does it matter what he’s doing in his time off? He’s helping out his sister and that helps me. It has nothing to do with what happened to my . . . my husband or my life and I want you to leave my kids out of this and get off my property. Now.”

  She didn’t wait for the questions to stop because, of course, they didn’t. Those people were out there doing their jobs, having no real grasp of what that job was doing to her.

  She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her head thudding on the hard wood. I won’t lose it, I won’t lose it, I won’t lose it.

  She kept repeating it until her stomach settled, her breathing returned to normal, and the burning behind her eyes stopped.

  Then her cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, so she didn’t answer it. The call went through to voice mail but before she could listen, it rang again. Then she got a text.

  Beth, it’s Bryan. Please pick up. Let me know you’re okay.

  Bryan? Bryan was calling her? How’d he get her number? Why’d he get her number? And how did he know what was going on?

  “Are you okay?” He didn’t even give her time to say hello when she answered his call.

  “I am.”

  “Did they leave?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to look.”

  He cursed inventively. “You should not have to deal with this. I told Mac I didn’t want this happening. I’m really sorry, Beth. I should have just given them a sound bite and been done with it. I should’ve realized I couldn’t get away with it. Anonymity doesn’t go with the territory. I’m really sorry.”

  Beth had to shake her head to clear it. What was he apologizing for? “This isn’t your fault, Bryan. You didn’t send them here.”

  “I might as well have. Anything I do these d
ays makes the news and I should have seen this coming. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you and the kids into it again. How are they?”

  “The kids? They’re fine. They’re at my neighbor’s house. I got them out before the questions started.”

  “And you? How are you?”

  “I’m . . . fine.” She was lying. Her knees were wobbly, her stomach was still queasy, and a cold sweat was dampening the back of her neck.

  “Look, I know I have no right to ask you this, but if you want to tell them I’m holding a news conference at three today at the Manley Maids’ office, that’ll get them off your case. They just want some info. I’ll give it to them.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath. She didn’t know if she could face them again. Didn’t want to open the door to that pack of wolves.

  “Beth? Did you hear me, honey?” His voice was so soft and low just like it’d been last night when he’d said he’d wanted to kiss her.

  Oh God, what if someone had seen him kiss her and taken a picture and now that would be plastered all over the news along with the story that he was cleaning her house? She could just hear the headlines now about playing house with her. Oh God. She couldn’t do this. Not again. She couldn’t live through this circus again. Couldn’t face the stares and the looks and the pointing fingers and the questions—always with the questions as if they had the right to delve into her life, her most personal thoughts there for public edification.

  “Beth, are you with me, honey?”

  Through a fog of panic, she heard Bryan’s voice.

  “Beth, please answer me.” There was an edge to his voice now. One she could totally relate to.

  “I’m here.” Just the act of saying those words, of acknowledging him, of communicating with someone who wasn’t trying to suck out her soul, helped Beth calm down.

  “Good. I’ll fix this, sweetheart. I promise. You won’t have to worry about reporters again. I promise. I’ll have Mac assign someone else to you for the rest of the month and you won’t have to deal with this or see me again.”

  “No.” The word was out before she thought about it.

  “What?” He sounded just as surprised as she was. “But if I’m not there, they won’t bother you.”

  “You can’t run out on the kids. You can’t teach them to cower.” Even though that was what she was doing right this very minute—at least they weren’t witnessing it. “I can’t let the press dictate my life. My kids’ lives. They like you, Bryan. My kids like having you around. Do you know Jason has done something to his hair? I can see his face because of something you said. I’ve tried for two years to get through to him and I couldn’t. You can’t walk away from them now because of this.”

  Okay, she was laying a lot at Bryan’s feet, but she’d do whatever she needed to for her kids. Maggie had shown him that special hug thing she’d had with Mike. Tommy and Mark were finishing each other’s sentences again. Kelsey was enjoying the prestige at school, and Jason . . . She hadn’t seen her son’s face full-on since before the funeral. She’d deal with the aftermath of Bryan leaving when his month was done, but for now, he couldn’t not be here. What would that teach the kids about dealing with problems? That you walk away?

  “But Beth, if I’m there, it’ll only continue.”

  “So you give them what they want at your press conference. You’re the story, not us. But after that, we want you to come back.”

  • • •

  BRYAN wanted to come back, too, but Beth didn’t have a clue what could happen. Sure, he was the draw, but a beautiful widow of an airline pilot with five kids and him in the house? Cleaning? The story was perfect for the tabloids and the legitimate press. The perfect romantic storyline with the movie star and the housewife. His agent had seen the possibility the minute he’d told him what he was going to be doing for Mac, which was why Bryan wanted to keep a low profile. Especially after he’d read about Mike’s death. He should have pulled out then. Should have told Mac to find someone else before the kids had gotten attached.

  Attached.

  Oh hell.

  They weren’t the only ones. And it was the worst and best feeling in the world. He liked her kids and he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t the tiniest bit proud that what he’d said to Jason had caused him to not only clean up, but do something about that hair. He’d heard in Beth’s voice how happy it’d made her. That one little thing and he’d had a hand in it.

  Hell, he ought to have Mac get someone else just because of that little hitch in Beth’s voice.

  But he wouldn’t. He didn’t want anyone else in here, seeing Beth’s bedroom or Maggie’s stuffed animals or the twins’ figurine collection, or telling Kelsey she looked nice and seeing her big, beautiful beaming smile that was so like her mother’s, or helping Jason grow into a man.

  Helping Jason—? Holy hell. When had the Hamilton family crawled beneath the armor he wore around his heart?

  This was so not what he needed in his head as he went out to face the media that afternoon. He prayed his thoughts weren’t plastered all over his face.

  “So, Bryan,” asked one of the reporters, “does this mean you’re backing out of The Pause Button?”

  The romantic comedy had been generating buzz even before the script had been finalized, every actor in Hollywood vying for the leads. When he’d won the role, his agent had sent him a case of Dom. At some point he’d drink it—when the film had wrapped and he felt good about his performance.

  “No, I’ll be on schedule for shooting. This cleaning gig is temporary. My sister, Mary-Alice Manley’s cleaning business, Manley Maids, is booming and she needed help. Since my brothers and I have the same reference for what constitutes a clean house—our grandmother—Mac had a ready-made crew for the new jobs.”

  “You mean that you clean your own home?” asked another reporter.

  “Not now, obviously. I’m never there. As a matter of fact, I’m also a Manley Maids’ customer.”

  Another reporter shoved his mic in Bryan’s face as he elbowed his way through the others. “So why this house? Was it because of the beautiful widow?”

  Bryan glared at the kid reporter. Even a few of the veterans moaned. They might smell a story, but they’d never get the real one if they pissed off their target, and it didn’t take a brain surgeon to see Bryan wasn’t happy with the question.

  “I’m here to do a job for my sister. That’s the only play that went into any of this.” He didn’t deny that Beth was beautiful—he’d never do that, because she was—but he had to put an end to the speculation here and now. He wasn’t about to bring any more publicity to her doorstep. He’d watched the news bites from when her husband had died, had seen the panic on her face, had heard it in her voice earlier; she didn’t need that nightmare again.

  He fielded a few more questions, threw in a couple of plugs for Manley Maids, mentioned the movie, and prayed that the scandal that’d been brewing had resolved itself.

  Luckily, he’d had the forethought to wear the hideous uniform and agreed to pose for pictures afterward. Mac couldn’t get better publicity than that. Give them what they wanted and hopefully they’d leave Beth and the kids alone.

  Just like he’d volunteered to do.

  But she hadn’t wanted him to leave. And not for herself, but for her kids. He would’ve argued with her, but when she’d brought it up as being in the best interests of her children, he couldn’t. What kind of man would he be if he left at the first sign she needed help?

  Not the kind of man he prided himself on being.

  Chapter Fourteen

  MOM is going to be so mad at you, Mags.”

  “No she’s not. I’m making this for Bryan. Mommy likes Bryan.”

  Bryan was about to walk into Beth’s kitchen when Maggie’s words stopped him. What was Maggie making? Why would Beth be mad? And just how much did Beth like him that Maggie had picked up on it?

  And why did it matter? As that reporter had reminded him yesterday, f
ilming was due to start in three weeks and he had to be there. This little sojourn into suburbia was only temporary.

  “Well duh, Mom likes him. Every woman likes him.” Kelsey sounded much older than twelve.

  “Like you, Kels?”

  Bryan could picture Maggie sticking her tongue out at her sister, and it made him smile. How well he remembered teasing his brothers.

  “Don’t be a dork. I’m too young to like him.”

  “Then why do you act all silly when he’s around?”

  Bryan wanted to sigh. He’d been dealing with teenage girl crushes his whole life, but he’d never been more bothered by one than he was at this moment. Kelsey couldn’t have a crush on him. He didn’t want to hurt her. Especially since his crush was definitely on her mother.

  “I don’t act silly. At least I don’t go making some stupid collage thing that’s got glue all over the table that he’s never going to hang up anywhere anyway.”

  “He will, too. Bryan likes me. He’ll ’ppreciate the picture.”

  He certainly would. Right after he got over choking on the emotion clogging his throat. He’d hang whatever it was on the door to his dressing room on every set he would ever be on.

  “Mom’s not going to appreciate the glue, Mags. You’re gonna get in trouble.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are too.”

  “Am not.”

  This was where he had to step in. It was one thing for the boys to disagree; as twins they had a bond that would be stronger than the damage their words could inflict, but the seven years separating Kelsey and Maggie would take a lot longer to heal and Bryan didn’t want to be the reason for discord between the sisters.

  “Hey, girls.” Bryan tilted the brim of his cap at them and got the giggles he’d hoped for from Maggie. He got the sigh and shy smile from Kelsey he’d been hoping not to get.

  “Whatcha doing, Maggie?”