Bewildered, Treet lifted his sobbing daughter into his arms until she was eye-level. “What, sweetie? Daddy didn't understand you."
Knuckling her eyes, Caroline hiccupped and stammered, “Sam said—said that Sleeping Beauty dies, Daddy! Tell her she doesn't neither die!"
As the reason for Caroline's upset sank in, Hadleigh closed her eyes and groaned. They snapped open at the sound of Sam's stubborn voice. She was standing in the doorway beside Brutal, seemingly oblivious to his hulking presence.
"She does, too. Just ask my mommy. She reads it to me every night, and Sleeping Beauty pricks her finger and goes to sleep forever and ever."
Suddenly, Samantha turned to study Brutal, a tiny frown marring her brow as she looked him up and down in her usual, candid way. “You're chocolate,” she announced matter-of-factly. “Like my chocolate bunny rabbit I got from the Easter bunny, only bigger. A lot bigger."
Hadleigh silently prayed for the closet floor to open up and swallow her.
* * * *
Caroline had stopped crying, but the sadness in her eyes remained. Each time Hadleigh looked at her delicate little face, she winced.
Samantha, on the other hand, had grown solemn and quiet, apparently realizing, finally, just how much she had upset her new friend.
The two girls sat on the sofa in Treet's living room. Hadleigh and Treet sat across from them on the love seat, and Brutal stood in front of the cold fireplace as if carved from stone, legs spread, arms crossed over his massive chest.
Hadleigh had a strong suspicion that he blamed her for Sam's impulsive nature. It was apparent he didn't blame Sam, for his impassive gaze softened each time he glanced her way.
"Do you want to read, or shall I?"
Treet's question jarred Hadleigh back to awareness. She looked at the book in his hand and shook her head. “You read it.” She'd already informed Treet that Sam always fell asleep by the time she got to the part in the story where the handsome Prince kissed Sleeping Beauty awake, which left Sam with the impression that Sleeping Beauty remained asleep forever. According to Treet, Caroline wasn't quite that far along in the book.
It startled Hadleigh to realize that although the girls seemed totally different, in some ways they were much the same.
"Should I start where Caroline usually falls asleep?” Treet inquired of his audience.
"No, Daddy! Start at the beginning where the ugly old witch comes to see the baby princess."
"Yes!” Sam added her pleas to Caroline's.
With a dubious look at the angels on the sofa, Treet turned to the front of the frazzled book and began to read Sleeping Beauty.
Hadleigh hadn't bargained on what Treet's voice would do to her peace of mind. As she listened to the low, captivating sound of his baritone as it rose and fell with varying emotion, she began to relive those all-too-brief moments in the linen closet with Treet.
Her reaction to him re-enforced the sense of danger she felt around Treet. That he was a heart-breaker, she had no doubt, although she was wise enough to realize that much of the heart-breaking Treet did he probably never even knew about. Still ... there was that other percentage that he probably did know about.
He was adored by millions. Lusted after by hundreds of thousands of women. She suspected he could have any woman he wanted with a flash of his sizzling baby blues. Heck, he could probably buy any woman he wanted.
So what was he doing in the linen closet with her, acting as if he'd never been with a woman before? As if she were the only woman in the world he'd ever felt an attraction for? She knew she wasn't ugly, and her figure wasn't half bad, but she was not Nicole Kidman, and she was definitely a far cry from the sultry, husky-voiced Demi Moore. Hadleigh had watched him seduce and be seduced by both leading ladies on screen. And that was just to name a two.
What about off screen? she wondered, surprised and appalled to realize she was jealous at the thought of Treet kissing them the way he kissed her. Stroking them the way he'd stroked her. She had no claim on Treet Miller. Why, the very idea was ludicrous.
Or ... was it?
Fighting a self-conscious blush, she shot him a speculative look from beneath the concealment of her lashes, watching his beautifully shaped mouth move as he read. So, what was the attraction she held for him? Was she right on target when she suggested he was pursuing her because she wasn't falling at his feet?
Her gaze fell on Samantha, who was staring at Treet as if she, too, were mesmerized by the sound of his voice. The sight of her awe-struck daughter prompted another thought. A not-so-nice one. Could Samantha be the true reason for Treet's interest in her? Hadleigh had to admit it would make things mighty convenient for both of them if she and Treet got together as a couple. They could have their cake and eat it too, as the saying goes.
At that moment, Treet paused in his reading to look at his captivated audience. As he shifted his loving gaze from Caroline to Samantha, Hadleigh noted his expression didn't change. It hadn't taken him long to fall in love with his real daughter.
At least Hadleigh understood. Each and every time she looked at Caroline, her heart lurched queerly. She'd only known her biological daughter for a few hours, but already she found herself dreading the moment when she would have to leave her.
Yet she wasn't about to let her heart deceive her into thinking she was falling in love with Treet, just so that she could spend more time with Caroline. And if this was Treet's ultimate quest—whether consciously or subconsciously—she would quickly set him straight on the matter. The last thing Hadleigh wanted was to put Samantha through a messy divorce when Treet came to his senses later on and realized he'd made a mistake.
Hadleigh smothered a moan, realizing she'd gone so far in her day-dreaming she'd actually thought of marriage to Treet. Yes, it was definitely time to get Treet alone and lay down a few ground rules if they were to continue on this course.
A movement from the sofa caught her eye. She looked up just in time to see Caroline slip her chubby little hand in Samantha's. Samantha scooted closer, giving Caroline a smile filled with love and mischief. Hadleigh's heart melted at the sight.
From the looks of things, this bizarre ship they were on wasn't slowing down.
* * * *
"Treet."
Treet paused in his reading as Hadleigh spoke his name. He decided he liked the sound of it rolling from her tongue. A sweet little tongue it was, too.
Bracing himself to appear casual—when he felt anything but casual with her—he focused his rather fuzzy gaze on her. His vision cleared, leaving him an uncluttered view of her moist lips, sultry green eyes, and flirty lashes.
The woman was fit for a king. Or a prince.
"Hm?” The syllable came out a little husky, since he couldn't help but remember that less than an hour ago he'd been having the time of his life kissing her senseless. That wasn't all he'd been doing, but there were children present—best he not think about that right now.
He followed the direction of her gaze to where the girls sat on the sofa.
Correction: where the girls slept on the sofa. Heads and hands together, they looked like two little cherubs.
Or two little Sleeping Beauties.
With a rueful shake of his head, Treet closed the book. “I give up. I'm convinced Caroline will never know the ending to this book."
"I know what you mean,” Hadleigh said with a soft little laugh that made his insides turn to mush. “I've tried nudging Samantha awake when she starts to doze, but it doesn't work. She sleeps as hard as she plays."
"Sounds like me.” He hadn't meant the words to sound suggestive, but he could tell by her sudden blush that she'd taken them that way. Good. He liked her thinking that way. It meant that she wasn't as cool as she'd like him to believe.
"We should be going."
Treet jumped to his feet. “I'll carry Samantha for you.” Brutal had gathered a sleeping Caroline into his massive arms and was disappearing down the hall in the direction of Caroline's bedro
om. Treet reached the couch at the same instant as Hadleigh. Their heads nearly collided as they both reached for Sam.
"I can get her,” Hadleigh said. “I'm used to carrying her."
For a long moment, Treet held her gaze, not bothering to hide his yearning. “Please, let me. It might be my only chance of getting this close to her.” He stifled a relieved sigh when she reluctantly moved away. Very, very gently, he gathered Samantha into his arms. She was a little heavier than Caroline, he thought, gazing into her flushed, sleeping face.
"I think she likes you,” Hadleigh whispered, smoothing a stray tendril of auburn hair from Sam's brow.
Treet shot her a hopeful look. “You think so? How can you tell?"
"I haven't seen her give you any of her ‘looks'."
"Looks? What kind of look?"
Hadleigh's lips twitched. “Go-to-hell looks."
"She wouldn't by any chance get that from her mother, would she?” Treet teased as he led the way to the front door. When Hadleigh opened it, he stepped onto the lighted porch. He'd been having so much fun, he hadn't even noticed that it had grown dark.
With the efficiency born of experience, Treet settled Sam into the back and buckled her securely into the child's safety seat. He closed the car door as quietly as he could, despite Hadleigh's insistence Sam wouldn't awaken.
Then he snatched Hadleigh around the waist, leaned against the car, and pulled her between his spread thighs. Her soft little gasp of surprise made him smile. She braced her hands on his chest, but she didn't resist.
"And what about Mom?” he drawled seriously. “Do you think she likes me, too?"
"Who doesn't like you?"
Her flippant answer failed to satisfy Treet. He lowered his hands to her bottom and pulled her firmly against his growing arousal. “Forget about everybody else. I'm asking you." The driveway light overhead illuminated her wary expression.
"We've been over this more than once, Treet. We owe it to the girls to keep things simple between us."
Treet leaned his head forward until their mouths were mere inches apart. His gaze settled on her parted lips as he said, “I don't think it gets any simpler than this."
"Sex might be simple for you, but it isn't for me."
"I think this is more than just sex,” Treet returned stubbornly, inching his mouth closer.
"And I thought this was about Samantha and Caroline, not us."
"Why can't it be both?” Treet thought his question quite logical. Apparently Hadleigh didn't.
"It isn't fair to the girls. If we get involved, then we won't be concentrating on them."
"Have you always been so single-minded?"
"When it comes to Sam, yes. And now I have Caroline to consider..."
She looked so worried all of a sudden that Treet wanted to kiss it away. But of course he didn't. “Why are you worried? We've got everything under control."
"Do we?"
Well, she did have a point, Treet mused, shifting to ease the tightness in his groin.
"Have you considered the possibility that this is happening because I'm conveniently convenient?” she continued, pulling free of his hold.
Disappointed, he watched the sway of her hips as she rounded the hood of the car and opened the driver's door. She paused before getting in, eyeing him over the car. “I think we should forget about this—this—chemistry between us and concentrate on the girls. Goodnight, Treet."
Galvanized into action by her farewell, Treet stepped away from the car. “I'll call you tomorrow."
"Okay. Give Caroline a good night kiss for me."
"I will."
He watched her drive away, thinking about what she said. Perhaps he was coming on too strongly. Maybe what she needed was a little old-fashioned wooing—both mother and daughter.
Treet thoughtfully rubbed his jaw, his unseeing gaze on the dwindling tail lights of Hadleigh's car.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Ten
"We can't come over tonight,” Hadleigh told Treet the next day when he called. “It's girls’ night."
"Girls’ night,” he repeated with just enough amusement in his voice to cause a ripple of awareness inside Hadleigh.
She gripped the phone tighter and willed her heart to stop its silly acrobatics. “Yes. We all get together and talk girl-talk. I'd—I'd forgotten.” And she had, to her shame and her friends’ disgust.
"And you can't get out of it?"
He'd never know how long and hard she'd tried. She made a face at the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and the pitcher of margaritas on the bar. She knew what tonight's discussion would be about. “No. I'm having enough trouble convincing my friends that I'm not star-struck without adding fuel to the fire by canceling our sacred night."
After a short silence, Treet said softly, “I'm glad you're not star-struck."
"Me too."
"Well, you don't have to be that adamant,” he protested, making her chuckle. “If you keep playing hard to get, I might end up wishing you were just a little star-struck. At least I'd have something of an edge."
"You don't mean that."
"No, I don't.” He interjected enough reluctance to make her smile. “Have fun."
"We usually do.” Hadleigh had a strong, sinking feeling this night would be an exception. Instead of fun, she'd be on trial with Judge Doreen, Judge Barbi, and Judge Karen presiding.
The doorbell pealed, making her jump. Speaking of the devils, she thought. “Treet, I have to go. The girls are here."
"I'll send Brutal over with my car tomorrow evening at six."
"No—I'll drive over.” She held her breath, expecting him to argue. Apparently he thought better of it.
"All right. See you then."
"Bye."
Feeling ridiculously guilty, Hadleigh hastily hung up the phone and raced to the door. Doreen and Barbi nearly fell across the threshold when she opened it, leaving her with the impression that they'd had their ears to the door.
"Hi!” Doreen said breathlessly. “We're right on time."
"Yeah. Can't wait to get started. I brought chocolate.” Holding up a six pack of Hershey's with almonds, Barbi cast a bright-eyed glance over Hadleigh's shoulder into the empty living room. “Where's Karen?"
"Taking Sam to her mother's house,” Hadleigh said, waving them inside. She shut the door and turned to follow her friends into the living room.
Barbi took her customary seat in the recliner, and Doreen sank onto one end of the sofa. She kicked off her shoes and curled her feet under her legs, letting out a lusty sigh.
Hadleigh took the love seat. “Have a hard day?” she asked of Doreen.
Doreen nodded, reaching for the bowl of popcorn. She settled the bowl on her lap and began to pick out the kernels with the most butter. “Nasty accident on the bridge,” she mumbled around a mouthful.
"Stop hogging the good ones.” Barbi reached for the bowl, but Doreen grinned and held it out of reach.
"Get your own."
Karen arrived a few moments later. She followed Hadleigh into the kitchen and helped her pour the margaritas into tall, frosted glasses Hadleigh had placed in the freezer earlier. When they were all settled again, Barbi wasted no time getting straight to the point.
"Spill it, Hadleigh. We've all been going crazy wondering what happened last night."
Karen took a man-sized gulp of her frosted margarita before adding, “That's putting it mildly."
"Amen,” Doreen breathed. “I've had trouble concentrating all day, and that's a little dangerous in my line of work."
It was on the tip of Hadleigh's tongue to inform Doreen that she wasn't responsible for her lack of concentration, but three pairs of avid eyes stopped her. She had to admit she would be just as curious.
Taking a deep breath, Hadleigh began, “Well, she's absolutely adorable. Sweet and well-mannered. Dark hair, dark eyes ... like a little gypsy.” She took a sip of her drink, her eyes misting over in remembrance. “She we
ars her hair in that cute, pageboy style that's coming back into fashion. She's crazy about dolls.” Hadleigh's voice dropped a note. “She looks a little like Jim, and a little like me."
It grew so quiet in the room, Hadleigh could hear her bedside clock ticking.
Finally, Karen asked, “How did he react when he saw Sam?"
Hadleigh ran her finger around the salt-encrusted top of her glass, then sucked the salt from her skin before answering. “I think he felt the same way I did: stunned, scared, and emotionally charged."
"You think he felt the same way?"
Leave it to Doreen to leap on that single word, Hadleigh thought. “I'm not psychic, Dory, but yes, I think he felt the same way."
"He's an actor—"
She cut Barbi off before she could finish. “Yes, he is. And very talented, as we all know. But he wasn't acting."
"How did Sam react to him?" Doreen asked.
They all leaned forward as if in anticipation of Hadleigh's words. Hadleigh bit her lip to keep from smiling at their comical expressions. She knew them all very well. Doreen was single and childless, but Hadleigh knew she was starting to yearn for a family; Barbi was a divorcee, and childless. Karen was married to an airline pilot and they had one child, Jason, a boy ten years old.
To Sam, they were all wonderful ‘aunties', who had a penchant for spoiling her rotten at Christmas and birthdays, and Jason was her hero.
Right now Hadleigh was more prone to think of the ‘aunties’ as major pains in the butt. “I think she likes him.” Her announcement was met with varying degrees of disbelief.
"You're joking.” Barbi sat back with a smug smile. “She kicked him, didn't she?"
"Yeah, now that I could believe,” Doreen added.
Karen laughed outright. “Come on, Hadleigh! Give us credit for a little intelligence, here. Sam doesn't like any man around you. She's proved it a dozen times."
Hadleigh decided it was time to shake up her friends with a few facts. “Sam and Caroline locked Treet and me in his linen closet."
All three women gasped.
"So if your theory is right and Sam hates men, why would she lock me in the closet with one?"
Those Baby Blues Page 10