Those Baby Blues

by Sheridon Smythe

  "It's your own fault!” Hadleigh shouted above the sudden babbling that followed the women's outburst. They grew quiet again. “Can you deny that his very life would be in danger if he came out right now? That you all wouldn't start fighting and pushing again?"

  Over the heads of the crowd, Hadleigh spotted the police coming into the store. Another woman saw them and gave the alarm.

  "Hey, it's the cops!"

  "So? Willie's my husband. He's not gonna arrest me! If he does, he won't get his dinner!"

  "Yeah, and Chris is my mom's boyfriend..."

  Hadleigh, overjoyed at the sight of the uniformed policemen didn't hear the door open behind her, or see the rough hands that grabbed her and yanked her backwards.

  She shrieked, hanging on to Caroline for dear life.

  * * * *

  It was some three hours later before they were able to get their pet supplies and head for home. Brutal drove, taking turns letting the girls steer the van along the nearly deserted blacktop.

  Treet sat with Hadleigh in the back seat, tired, but curiously content to listen to his girls—his girls—fuss over who was next, and who was the best driver. He felt Hadleigh's gaze on him and turned to find her watching him intently.

  He lifted a brow in question. “What? Do I have mustard on my nose or something?"

  She shook her head. “No. I was just thinking about what a nice guy you are, for doing that. Does your hand hurt?"

  "A little.” He stretched his fingers to work out the stiffness, casting her a wry grin. “I have to admit, this is the first time I've autographed clothing."

  "Panties,” Hadleigh corrected, straight-faced. “And bras."

  "I think I saw a slip or two."

  Brutal dared to take his eyes off the road as Caroline guided the slow-moving vehicle. “Don't forget Grandma's girdle."

  "Was that what that thing was?” Treet chuckled at the memory of the feisty, blue-haired lady. “She was ninety if she was a day."

  Hadleigh laughed with him. “Well, you have to admit you certainly made the manager's day. I'll bet he doesn't have a pair of panties left in the store."

  "Or bras,” Sam added, peeping over the head rest. Her eyes danced with mischief. “Are you going to make him sign your underwear, Mommy? One of the peoples there said she was going to keep it, and after Treet died, she was gonna sell it and make lots and lots of money!"

  At the sight of Hadleigh's shocked face, Treet threw back his head and roared his laughter.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seventeen

  Treet Miller and candlelight was a dangerous combination, Hadleigh discovered as she shook out her cloth napkin and spread it on her lap. She glanced across the elegantly dressed table at Treet and watched him do the same.

  In the kitchen a short distance away from where she and Treet sat in the formal dining room, Hadleigh could hear Sam and Caroline giggling, interspersed with Trudy's carefully worded instructions.

  She caught Treet's amused glance and smiled. “They'll probably giggle the whole time they're serving us,” she said.

  "Probably,” he agreed, chuckling. “But they're having fun, and that's what counts."

  Hadleigh took a sip of her water. “Including the girls in this rehearsal was a great suggestion.” Treet shrugged, as if embarrassed by her compliment, which in turn intrigued Hadleigh. The man was constantly surprising her.

  Trudy banged twice on a pot, signaling that the girls were ready. Hadleigh exchanged another amused glance with Treet as Caroline entered the dining room.

  Halting before the table, Caroline brought out a pad and pencil and looked from one to the other, her expression so solemn Hadleigh had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.

  "Good evening. What would you like to drink?"

  "I'd like a glass of white wine, please,” Hadleigh said politely.

  Treet drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze unwavering on Hadleigh's face. She suspected he was struggling with laughter.

  "And I'd like a scotch. Neat. No ice,” he said.

  Caroline frowned, hovering over the pad as she pretended to scribble their order. After a moment, she looked up at them. There wasn't a trace of recognition on her face. “Okay. Got it. Your waitress will be out to take your order in a minute."

  "Thanks."

  "Yeah, thanks."

  When Caroline disappeared through the door, Hadleigh leaned forward to whisper, “Was that uncanny, or what?"

  "Yes, it was. She's pretty good."

  Sam appeared, nearly invisible in one of Trudy's over-sized aprons. She snapped to attention like a soldier, obviously not to be out-done by Caroline. “May I recommend the roast duck tonight?” she asked importantly, pen poised over her notepad.

  Straight-faced, Treet said, “No, I'd like a hamburger."

  Hadleigh kicked Treet beneath the table. Sam glared at him.

  "All right,” Treet relented. “Roast duck is fine with me. How about you, Zoey?"

  "Sounds good."

  "We'll start with an appetizer of oysters on the half shell,” Treet added, casting Hadleigh a meaningful look, followed by a leering wink.

  Thank goodness Sam didn't have a clue, Hadleigh thought, fighting a blush. When her daughter disappeared through the doorway, Treet kicked into high gear: he became Russell Linuchi with a vengeance.

  She thought she was prepared, but soon discovered she wasn't.

  He scooted his chair around close to hers and placed a warm, arousing hand on her thigh beneath the table. Bold as brass and really, really high up on her leg. Too close for comfort.

  She jumped, wishing she hadn't worn a dress.

  "You know what they say about oysters, don't you?” Russell rumbled intimately in her ear.

  Zoey pretended ignorance. “No, I don't, but I've got a strong hunch you're going to tell me.” As the script in front of her instructed, she shifted her leg to the right—away from his hand.

  His hand stayed clamped to her thigh. In fact, if she wasn't dreaming, it inched even higher. Another fractional move and he'd be toying with the elastic of her panties. What she wouldn't give for a hot platter of linguini noodles right now.

  Russell's other hand began a slow, erotic dance along her spine. Zoey arched her back, then forced herself to relax against the disturbing motion. Up. Down. Lower each time. Higher again until his fingers burrowed into her hair, then back down again. Despite Russell's outrageous attitude, he had magic fingers.

  "You know, Zoey, I think we're going to work well together,” Russell breathed into her ear.

  She felt him grasp her ear lobe with his teeth and tug. She shivered, and a tiny moan escaped. The sound jarred her back to reality. Or to the reality she was in at the moment. “I think so ... too,” she said breathlessly, turning her face to his. There was a kiss coming up, she knew, although she'd argued with Treet that it was rather crude of Russell to kiss Zoey in a crowded restaurant. "It's what Russell would do," he'd stated with a shrug, as if to remind her that he hadn't written the script.

  "I've got a fantastic deal coming up, so we'll be spending a lot of time together."

  "Really?” Zoey allowed her lips to feather his, then teased him by turning her face away so that his next kiss landed on the corner of her mouth.

  Not that it wasn't great anyway.

  "Yes, really.” Russell let out a low chuckle that turned her bones to liquid. He caught her chin and turned her to face him again. His tongue darted out, sliding across her lower lip, a look of intense pleasure on his handsome face.

  Really, Hadleigh thought, bracing herself against a rush of pure lust, Russell was making a spectacle of himself. He was being crude and nasty in public.

  And she loved it.

  She ran her tongue where his had been only seconds before, forcing herself to look at him at close range. He ceased being Russell the moment she gazed into his languid, sexy-as-hell eyes. In fact, she forget her next line altogether. And what was her name again? />
  "So what's this...” Treet prompted in a husky whisper, nuzzling her nose with his.

  Hadleigh swallowed, forcing herself to concentrate on how Zoey would act. “So what's this fantastic deal we'll be working on?"

  On cue, Caroline and Sam entered, each carrying an empty plate. They set them down and left the room again.

  Sam giggled just as she reached the door. Caroline shushed her and yanked her on through and out of sight.

  Russell sighed and moved his chair back in place. He picked up a fork and pretended to eat. “I'll tell you all about it when we get to my place,” he flung at her casually.

  Zoey pretended to choke on her food. She gasped out, "Your place?"

  "Well, actually, it belongs to a friend of mine.” His expression turned grave. “You see, my invalid mother lives with me."

  Hadleigh had been looking forward to her next line from the moment she reviewed the scene earlier. She widened her eyes until they burned, looking convincingly stunned. “Amazing!” she breathed. “My invalid mother lives with me, too!"

  * * * *

  She was having a ball, Treet mused, recalling the sparkle in her eyes, and the flush on her cheeks—a flush he was fairly certain he'd caused with his wandering hands and wicked tongue. He fell onto his bed and propped his arms under his head, staring at the ceiling. The fact that Hadleigh was enjoying herself helped ease the guilt he felt at having tricked her.

  But not all of it.

  Man, would she be furious if she knew. Treet smiled grimly, thinking of the remarks she'd made about the script. Little did she know the very things she claimed felt wrong were the things he'd changed to help further his own devious motives.

  He wanted to get close to Hadleigh, to kiss her and stroke her, to hold her so tightly not a flicker of light could squeeze between them.

  He wanted, quite frankly, to be inside her, loving her, making her moan and scream his name. He wanted to make her forget who he was, who she was, and, for a brief time, the reason they'd met.

  But he'd settle for a little stroking and a lot of kissing. For now. Sooner or later he would wear her down. Sooner or later she'd realized this thing between them was bigger than both of them.

  They had chemistry. A lot of chemistry.

  They had common interests.

  They had Caroline and Sam, but she was wrong about everything else. Yes, he wanted Sam with him permanently, but he would never make the mistake of thinking he was falling in love with a woman just to get his wish.

  No, he knew that he was falling in love with Hadleigh.

  He believed that she cared for him; he wanted to find out how much.

  So he'd tricked her. Shamelessly doctored the script so that Russell had more opportunity to put his hands and lips on Zoey. Plenty of opportunities to weaken her defenses, to show her that the explosive chemistry between them shouldn't be denied.

  And unless she had more talent than he realized, Treet believed his plan was working. He'd recognized the want, the sweet flame of desire in her gorgeous green eyes. Oh, she fought it. Damn, did she fight it. But sooner or later she'd weaken....

  She had to.

  * * * *

  Thank God they'd finally fallen asleep, Hadleigh thought, sighing as she closed the book and laid it on the night stand. She tucked the covers around the sleeping girls and tip-toed to the door. Outside their window, occasional flashes of lightning brightened the night, heralding an approaching storm.

  Once or twice Hadleigh thought she'd heard the low, distant rumble of thunder.

  She'd placed her hand on the light switch when Caroline spoke in a loud whisper from her position on the bottom bunk with Sam.

  "Is it going to storm, Haddy?"

  "I don't know. Maybe.” Hadleigh hoped not; Sam was terrified of storms.

  "Haddy?"

  "Yes, Caroline?"

  "I wish you were my mommy, too."

  Her voice was drowsy with sleep and filled with a heart-breaking wistfulness that seared Hadleigh to her very soul.

  Hadleigh wanted to shout, "I am, I am!" Instead, she whispered, “Me, too, sweetie. Me too.” On impulse, she walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, gathering Caroline in her arms. She squeezed her tight, fighting a sudden rush of tears. “I love you,” she said.

  Caroline squeezed her back with all her might. “I love you too, Haddy. Sam said it was okay."

  Smiling through her tears, Hadleigh released her and turned away before Caroline could see her crying. Treet was waiting, but she needed a moment or two to recover before she joined him in the bedroom for the next scene.

  She slipped out the front door and walked to the porch railing, watching the brilliant flashes of lightning to the East. In the distance, she heard a horse nicker softly, nervously. The wind kicked up, bringing with it the smell of dust and rain. She lifted her face and closed her eyes, asking herself again what the hell she thought she was doing.

  Playing with fire.

  Dancing with the devil.

  Fooling herself into believing she was doing the right thing, being here with Sam and helping Treet, when in fact she was basking in the contact, glorying in the closeness they shared with the girls, and the more intimate closeness they shared as Zoey and Russell.

  There wasn't a moment that went by that she didn't feel his presence, sense him, or think about him.

  Treet Miller. Hunky movie star and Daddy of the Year. A man full of passion and humor. A man who was gentle, yet fierce.

  Hadleigh dropped her chin and finally admitted what she had been trying desperately to deny. She loved Treet Miller. She loved him, and she feared she was going to pay dearly for her weakness when it was all said and done. Her fingers tightened on the railing. She just hoped Sam and Caroline didn't have to pay along with her.

  Just conjuring the girls’ names made her chest hurt. Since meeting Treet and Caroline, Sam seemed happier, more settled and less prone to tantrums. And she actually seemed to like Treet, something Hadleigh still found surprising.

  Then there was Caroline. Sweet, tolerant Caroline, yearning for a mother and revealing a mischievous side Hadleigh was fairly certain hadn't been apparent in the ‘Years Before Sam'.

  It was obvious they complimented each other, Hadleigh decided, smiling slightly. Her smile faded quickly as she thought about the scene she was about to rehearse with Treet.

  Could she do it?

  Could she romp around on the bed with Treet without embarrassing herself? Without winding her arms around his neck and begging him to make love to her? She dreamed about it at night, and thought about it often during the day. It was a dangerous hobby, she knew. Making love with Treet would change her life.

  She didn't doubt it for a moment.

  Not because of his sexual prowess—although she wouldn't be surprised to find him above average—but because he possessed the ability to arouse, enhance, and stimulate each and every emotion known to her, and a few she didn't know about.

  From tenderness to laughter.

  From love to aching desire.

  And the thousand and one emotions in between.

  She jumped as arms circled her waist from behind and squeezed. A hard, warm body pressed against her from shoulder to calf. Treet nuzzled her ear, his voice low and sexy, his lips hot and erotic, instinctively seeking out the most sensitive spot.

  "Hiding out?” he taunted.

  "No,” she lied.

  "The girls asleep?"

  "Yes.” He sounded as if he'd been asleep, too.

  "So what's on your mind?” His hands inched upwards, resting boldly beneath the curve of her breasts.

  "Caroline told me that she loved me."

  He grew still. “I think I hate you."

  He meant to be funny, but Hadleigh sensed his hurt. “Sam likes you,” she assured him.

  "Maybe. But she doesn't love me,” he grumbled. “On the other hand, I think Caroline's ready to trade me in for you."

  Hadleigh hesitated, knowing that she
was about to tread on shaky ground. “Caroline misses her mother."

  "She couldn't miss her mother,” Treet retorted harshly. “She's never met her."

  "She misses having a mother,” Hadleigh amended. She tilted her face around to peer at him in the darkness. In the dim light, his features had taken on a tense, wary look—a far cry from his customary naughty-boy smile. Feeling reckless, Hadleigh deliberately pushed his button. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened with Cheyenne?"

  "I'd rather neck.” He raked his teeth lightly against her neck to emphasize his preference.

  Hadleigh recognized a distraction when she felt one. “Treet? Please? Humor me? I've heard her side of the story. I'd like to hear yours."

  "And who will you believe?"

  Without hesitation, Hadleigh said, “You. You've given me no reason to believe you would lie. On the other hand, Cheyenne has given me proof that she would go to any lengths to satisfy her need for revenge.” It was all true.

  Sighing, he began to walk backward, holding her to him. He sank into a deck chair and pulled her onto his lap.

  Treet was definitely a hands-on man, Hadleigh thought, allowing him to cuddle her against his chest. Besides, it felt nice being this close to him. She could feel his heart beating against her side. His breath fanned her neck, making her shiver.

  With longing.

  With need.

  With a strange and desperate yearning to be loved by this man.

  "Cold?"

  "No, I'm fine."

  "Guess you're waiting."

  She smiled at his grumbling tone. “Yes, I am."

  "It's not a pretty story,” he warned, his tone deepening, growing somber.

  "I'm a big girl. Tell me Treet. I want to know about Sam's mother.” The confession nearly stuck in her throat. Most of the time she could forget that someone else had given birth to Sam.

  This was one of those times when she couldn't.

  She couldn't tell Treet the other reason she wanted to know about Cheyenne. She couldn't tell him that it was personal, this curiosity about the other women in his life.

  "We met at a dinner hosted by a director friend of mine, Sands Echo. Cheyenne was ... looped when I bumped into her. She started crying, so I took her into another room, thinking she needed a shoulder. She introduced herself, and then sobbed out her story, of how her boyfriend had dumped her for her best friend.” Treet shifted in the chair, his arms tightening around Hadleigh as if he were bracing himself—or her—against something unpleasant. “She wouldn't stop drinking, even after I got her calmed down and we returned to the party. I didn't want her to drive in that condition, and she'd come to the party alone, so I offered to take her home. She passed out before she could give me directions, so I took her home with me. I woke up in the middle of the night and she was in bed with me."