What a Woman Needs

by Judi Fennell

  “I had a great time today,” he said, brushing a piece of hair from her forehead.

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” Look at her, coherent enough to joke with him. She never would have thought.

  “It’s not a line.”

  Okay, there went her knees melting again. They were going to do this. They were really going to do this.

  What, exactly, this constituted remained to be seen, but Beth was more than ready to find out.

  “I had a great time with you and your kids today, Beth. A better time than I can remember having in a long while.” He took a step closer and the butterflies in Beth’s stomach put in another appearance.

  “You’re just saying that. You can’t tell me that being at a local amusement park outranks the Academy Awards.”

  “It does if I’m not up for an award. And even then . . . that’s just the trappings of my profession. What we did today . . . that was real. What life’s about.”

  Beth’s heart skipped a beat. What life was about? Where was he going with this? Movie stars didn’t commute to Hollywood from suburbia.

  She licked her lips again. Couldn’t help it; they were so dry.

  His gaze zeroed in on her mouth and the butterflies turned into dragonflies. Or better yet, just dragons because her insides were on fire, a bundle of twisting writhing threads of want and need and if he didn’t do something she was going to have to.

  “Beth—”

  “Bryan—”

  They both did something. They leaned in and their lips met and it was as if they’d never left the amusement park. Beth’s stomach took the same twists and turns it had on the roller coasters and her body felt as if she were on the Tilt-A-Whirl again, only this time Bryan was smashed up against all of her and his arms were around her properly and she could run her hands all over his strong, sculpted back, dipping down to his waistline, the temptation to feel how perfect his butt was almost shocking her out of the moment.

  Almost.

  “God, Beth, I want you,” he murmured somewhere between her jaw and the hollow beneath her ear, his words tickling her skin while their meaning sent shivers throughout the rest of her.

  This was it. The moment. Yes or no?

  “Bryan—”

  “I know. I get it. I’m leaving and you’re not that woman, but please, can I just kiss you and hold you a bit? I don’t have much time left and”—he planted another knee-melting kiss on her lips—“I want to know you, Beth. Want to explore what’s between us, even if it’s only through holding you and kissing you. I’ll never forget you, Beth Hamilton. You are one special lady.”

  She was one melting lady. His desire, his respect, his control, the way he was with her kids . . . and her . . . She could fall in love with Bryan very easily.

  “Yes, Bryan,” she said on a whisper before leaning in to kiss him. Yes to everything he wanted, and so much more that she did. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her aching breasts against his chest, his thin cotton T-shirt doing nothing to hide the perfection that was beneath it. God, she wanted this. Wanted him.

  He grabbed her butt and pulled her against him.

  He wanted her, too.

  How was this going to happen? The logistics were a bit tricky since her room was beyond the others up the stairs. They’d have to pass all the kids’ rooms and she couldn’t set that sort of example for them.

  Doomed before they even got started.

  He leaned back against the deck railing and pulled her between his legs. There was no mistaking how much he wanted her and Beth couldn’t help the surge of pride that she’d done this to him. Her. Mother of five and he still wanted her.

  It’s not as if he wants to marry you; he’s a man and you’re a woman. Not that big of a deal.

  Except it was to her. So she wasn’t going to let doubts or insecurities ruin this.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair, loving the texture and the curls and the fact that she was kissing a new man and thoroughly enjoying every second of it and couldn’t get enough of doing it. The at-her-door fumbling on those other dates . . . Those were nothing compared to this.

  He released her mouth and trailed his lips along her jaw, kissing every inch, then down along her throat. She tossed her head back, giving him better access, as every spot he touched made her see stars. God, the things this man’s touch did to her.

  “You taste so sweet,” he whispered.

  The night breeze brushed over her heated skin but that wasn’t the reason for the chills that suddenly enveloped her. No, she was placing the blame firmly at Bryan’s fingertips—literally, because he’d wrapped his arms around her so tightly that his fingers brushed the sides of her breasts, and, holy moly, what that did to her insides. And her outsides—her nipples were so tight they ached.

  She moaned into the night air and it was enough to startle her into opening her eyes. Ohmygod. The full moon lit up her deck like a stage light, right where she was making out with Bryan Manley. Was she out of her mind? Anyone could see.

  Even Jason and Kelsey if they looked out the window.

  “Bryan . . .” She pulled her fingers from his hair and braced them against his biceps. “Someone might see.”

  He took one last kiss on her collarbone, and nuzzled the skin just below it, making her nipples tingle all over again before he lifted his head.

  “I guess,” he sighed. “But, God, Beth, I’ve wanted to do that all day. And so much more.”

  “We can’t.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s, well, it’s not smart.”

  “I know.”

  “And we couldn’t, that is, my room, it’s beyond the kids’.”

  “Oh, trust me. I know exactly where your room is.”

  Her body heated at the thought of him in there, touching her things. Holding them, setting them back in place. Seeing the most intimate part of her house, where she slept and dreamed and ached about him.

  She’d been alone for so long.

  “The tree fort.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d even thought of them.

  “The what?”

  She couldn’t back down now. She’d said it and, frankly, the idea of making love to Bryan in the tree fort—where no one would ever know, where it’d be just them—held huge appeal.

  “The tree fort.” She nodded at the big oak at the back corner of her yard. “We could go there.”

  Bryan smiled that devastating smile and kissed the tip of her nose before he put some space between them. “As tempting as that idea sounds, and as much as you make me feel like a teenager, Beth, I am not about to make love to you in a tree fort. I have a lot more class than that and you deserve so much better.”

  Forget class; she wanted him so badly she’d consider this deck if it had a roof so her kids wouldn’t accidentally see. The hell with the neighbors. They could all eat their hearts out.

  Ohmygod, who was this woman? Exhibitionism? What was the man capable of driving her to?

  He drew the backs of his fingers down her cheek, then ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. “Plus, it’s not the right time now. I have to leave for the set soon, and you, well, you have all this to handle. You’re not a one-night woman and I’m not about to make you compromise your principles. You don’t need that or me to complicate your life.”

  “But what if I want you to complicate my life?” Again, who was this woman, and thank God she’d shown up.

  “Ah, Beth, you tempt me to do just that.” He kissed her quickly—not nearly long enough. “But I couldn’t live with myself.”

  And he wouldn’t be living with her. That was unsaid but hanging between them.

  She ought to be glad he was so thoughtful. Glad that he respected her and her kids enough to not take her up on her offer. But that didn’t mean it didn’t suck.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “Thank you for an amazing day. I’ll never forget it. And I’ll never forget this.” He nudged her nose so he could look
her in the eye. “I’ll never forget you.”

  • • •

  WALKING away from Beth was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He left her on her deck, leaning against the railing, her hair messed from his fingers, her lips swollen from his kisses, her nipples clearly outlined beneath her T-shirt, and he’d felt the dampness between her thighs when he’d pressed his knee between them. Heard her sigh when he’d run his tongue along her throat.

  And that tree fort idea . . .

  He shook his head as he got into the truck, adjusting himself so he could sit comfortably in the bucket seats, but he had a feeling he’d never sit comfortably around Beth again. He wanted her. Badly. And she’d wanted him. Had offered him the tree fort of all places. For a second he’d considered it, but then . . . no. What he’d said was true. Sure, it’d slake the passion for the moment, but making love to Beth was a moment to treasure, not one to hurriedly get through in the kids’ tree fort. If he ever took Beth to bed, it’d be with all the romantic bells and whistles: champagne, rose petals, soft music, and a bed big enough that they could enjoy themselves in so many ways because once he got her into bed, he’d never want to get out of it.

  He pulled out of the driveway and saw Beth in her room, her silhouette illuminated by the tiny strand of lights she had in the silk tree in her sitting room. She was watching him drive away, when all he wanted to do was be up there with her.

  He shifted gears, glad for the distraction. He wanted Beth, but he couldn’t have her. For all that the tabloids called him a playboy, this nobleness was going to kill him.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  HEY, isn’t this the movie you’re doing, Bryan?” Kelsey shoved the newspaper in Bryan’s face the minute he walked through the front door the next morning.

  His eyes met Beth’s before he took the paper.

  Beth went back to cleaning up the dog toys that Sherman had, yet again, managed to drag all over the house. The dog hadn’t figured out that he was actually supposed to play with the toys, not the basket, and make them all play fifty-two pickup. At least it was better than the clothesline, but still . . . The dog was more work than the kids.

  “It says the actress shut down the set for a few days. Does this mean you don’t have to go?”

  Bryan took the paper and removed his baseball cap. Jason took it from him and hung it on the key hook by the door, then looked over his arm to read the article.

  “Hmmm.” Bryan skimmed the rest, then opened the paper to the next page. “My agent hasn’t called, so as far as I know, I’m still good to go.”

  “What happened?” Beth asked with the sick feeling in her stomach. She didn’t want him to go and she didn’t want to talk about his movie and she really didn’t want to talk about the actress he was going to be working with. And probably kissing. He kissed gorgeous women in all of his movies.

  And in his private life, too, don’t forget that.

  As if she could.

  She glanced at the mantle. At Mike’s picture. He’d want her to be happy; they’d talked about it in that what-would-you-do sort of way married couples do, though, she’d assumed they’d been discussing the other marrying someone else, not hooking up for a night of passion.

  God, she could so use one of those right now.

  “It says the actress threw a hissy fit and destroyed the set.” Kelsey looked a little too happy reciting the story.

  Beth tossed Sherman’s toys back into the basket. Of course one missed. “Kelsey . . .”

  Bryan grabbed the runaway tennis ball. “The report says that Carina Dempsey took exception to the staging and wanted it changed.” He skimmed some more, then folded the paper up and tucked it under his arm. “You can’t believe everything you read, Kels.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Kelsey flopped onto the sofa and crossed her arms with a sour look on her face.

  Beth needed to nip the gossip-mongering in the bud now before it caused problems later on. Teenage girls could be vicious.

  “Like when the reporters said Dad was drinking before the flight.”

  Beth would have been so much happier if Kelsey’s attitude had been about gossip.

  “Nuh-uh. They speculated that he had.” Jason, obsessed with his father’s reputation, had read every article Beth hadn’t been able to keep from him. He’d learned the idea behind the concept of speculated within the first week and it’d been his mantra. It’d seemed like forever before the NTSB had released the results of the toxicology screen and vindicated Mike. “And they were wrong.”

  “So you mean she didn’t trash the place?” The power of gossip took over.

  Beth shook her head. Teenage girls . . .

  “Hard to tell what’s what,” said Bryan. “I’ll know more when I get there.”

  “When do you go?”

  “I’m due on set in two weeks. I can go any time, so I might go out the weekend before. Get the trailer set up, learn the lay of the land, see who’s there already. It’s helpful to know who you’re working with before you show up to shoot.”

  “You’re going to shoot?” Mark, of course, would perk up at that. “A gun? Or a laser?” He brandished his lightsaber.

  “I bet it’s a machine gun,” added Tommy, grabbing the water machine gun Mike’s dad had bought them for their birthday. Crap. She needed to get that thing outside. There’d already been one water fight in the bathroom.

  “No, a cannon.”

  “A tank!”

  “Yeah, a tank would be cool!”

  Nothing about Bryan leaving was cool. Beth bent down to hide the feelings that thought evoked and found at least eight socks under the sofa that Sherman must have misappropriated. She was going to change his name to Sock Monster, and just call him Monster for short. It was fitting.

  And of course the aptly renamed monster nailed her in the back of her thighs, making her take a header into the sofa, hitting, of course, the wood frame, and for a moment she saw stars. Unfortunately, they weren’t the kind she’d seen with Bryan last night.

  “Sherman!” Tommy went running to rescue the menace who’d bounced off and went sliding across the hardwood floor.

  “Mommy!” Maggie came running to Beth’s aid, brushing the hair out of Beth’s face. “Are you okay, Mommy? Do you have to go to the hospital?”

  Maggie had an irrational fear of hospitals. People went there to die in her experience.

  “No, sweetie, I’m fine.” Beth rubbed the bump and sat on the couch.

  Bryan knelt down in front of her and, oh, the image that presented.

  Man, she must have really hit her head hard.

  “Here. Let me take a look at that.” He brushed the hair off her head. “You’ve got an egg.”

  “An egg? Why does Mommy have an egg on her head? You didn’t take it from our ’speriment, did you, Mommy?”

  “The experiment!” Tommy jumped off the back of the sofa, machine gun in hand.

  “My egg!” Mark ran after him.

  After a second of indecision, Maggie ran into the kitchen, too.

  “Well, I guess that lets me know where I stand on the level of importance around here.”

  Bryan smiled and it made her head hurt a lot less. He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “They made sure you were okay, then they went after the, and I quote, coolest experiment in the world. If I ever see Sean’s client again, I’m going to have to thank her.” He touched the lump again. “In the meantime, let’s get some ice on that.”

  “Great. Just what I need. A goose egg on my forehead.”

  He held out his hand to help her stand. “The good news is, it’s beneath your hair line. And blue is a good color on you.”

  She nudged him with her shoulder, inordinately pleased that he’d noticed what color looked good on her, and annoyed with herself for being pleased.

  The doorbell rang just as they made it to the kitchen to see three very intent children studying the eggs in the cups.

  “I’ll get it,” said Bryan. “You
go see what Louis Pasteur, Madame Curie, and Pavlov are up to in there,” said Bryan as he headed to the front door as if he belonged here.

  But he didn’t. And he couldn’t. So she turned her attention to the kids who did live there, who were the focus of her life and the reason she couldn’t go chasing Bryan down on movie sets.

  She did, however, go chase him down a few minutes later, when he hadn’t returned, to see what the hold-up was.

  She should have known. There was a pack of hungry jackals, er, reporters on her front porch.

  “I have no comment on that,” Bryan was saying. “I’m not there so I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Do you plan to fly out sooner than scheduled?”

  “As you can see, I have prior commitments.” Bryan nodded his head toward her house. “I’ll be on set when I’m due. As to the rest, I can’t comment. Now, if you wouldn’t mind leaving so this family can have their privacy back, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Do you expect Carina to get fired?”

  “There have been other reports from other sets she’s ruined when she wasn’t happy.”

  “Word is they’re looking to replace her.”

  “Would you continue with the film if she’s replaced?”

  The questions didn’t let up, but Bryan deflected them. Beth had to admire his professionalism and ethics for not throwing the actress under the bus even though she’d heard the same things about Carina, who was known for on-set theatrics. Frankly, Beth was always of the opinion that the woman did it on purpose to keep her name in the papers. As they said in Hollywood, there was no such thing as bad publicity. In suburbia, however, it was a whole other story. Beth could do with never having her name mentioned in the paper ever again.

  Which meant, of course, a reporter decided to drag her in the conversation.

  “Mrs. Hamilton, would you care to comment on Bryan’s services in your home?”

  Oh, the sniggers that question got from the assembled crowd—and oh, the anger it got from Bryan. “Beth is not involved in this. Leave her out of it.”

  “But surely your sister would like the publicity for Manley Maids? We just need a quote from your client.”