Read Granted: A Family for Baby Online
Authors: Carol Grace
Granted: A Family for Baby (16 page)
A slow, seductive smile spread across his face that made her stomach twist into a knot of misgiving combined with breathless anticipation. Just when she’d vowed not to let Brady know how she felt about him, he was going to test her resolve in some underhanded way.
Why, oh, why had she ever come to the office with the food? Why had she engaged in conversation with
the jewel thief in the first place? And most of all, why hadn’t she stomped on the criminal’s toes or kicked him in the groin? Then she wouldn’t be here right now. She’d be at home relaxing in a hot tub. Far from Brady’s charm.
the jewel thief in the first place? And most of all, why hadn’t she stomped on the criminal’s toes or kicked him in the groin? Then she wouldn’t be here right now. She’d be at home relaxing in a hot tub. Far from Brady’s charm.
“Don’t worry,” Brady said soothingly. “You brought the food. I’ll take care of the activities.”
That’s just what she was worried about.
Chapter Ten
D
inner was cold meat loaf, carrot and celery sticks, green salad with the dressing on the side, fresh rolls and butter. Of course there was no knife to cut the meat or butter the rolls, but whatever Celia’s fault in packing the wrong utensil, she made up for it in generous servings for the long-gone prisoner. Suzy and Brady sat side by side on the bed with the box between them as a table.
inner was cold meat loaf, carrot and celery sticks, green salad with the dressing on the side, fresh rolls and butter. Of course there was no knife to cut the meat or butter the rolls, but whatever Celia’s fault in packing the wrong utensil, she made up for it in generous servings for the long-gone prisoner. Suzy and Brady sat side by side on the bed with the box between them as a table.
“Not bad,” Brady said, biting into a buttery roll. “Beats a cold cheese sandwich at home.”
“I thought you never ate at home.”
“I don’t. I eat at the diner, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I noticed.” How could she not notice? How could she not be aware of his presence? In a room full of customers she always knew exactly where he was sitting, who he was with and what he was eating. She knew he liked ketchup with his French fries, Tabasco sauce with his eggs, and cream in his coffee. Maybe he was right. She already knew too much about him.
“Coffee?” she asked, holding up a thermos.
“They thought of everything,” he said.
Suzy filled the cup and added a powdered creamer. When she handed it to him her hand brushed his. This time the jolt sent her heart pounding in her chest. He didn’t move. His eyes bored holes right through her. As if he knew exactly what his touch did to her.
“What about you?” he asked. “Aren’t you having any?”
She burrowed in the box, glad to have a reason to look away, to have something to do. “There’s only one cup. One cup to a prisoner.”
He handed it back to her. “You take it.”
“We’ll share,” she said.
Brady lifted the boxes off the bed and sat down again, his back to the wall. He slanted a glance at Suzy sitting cross-legged next to him, looking so beautiful, with her tousled hair and her wrinkled white sweater and tailored gray slacks. He watched her sip the coffee as if she was in a drawing room instead of a cell.
“How do you do it?” he asked. “How do you manage to look so calm and composed after what you’ve been through? You know any other woman would be ranting and raving about having to spend the night in jail.”
“You’re too modest. Any other woman in town would give their eye teeth to spend the night with you, Brady.”
“Even in a cell?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “That’s news to me.”
“That’s because you’ve made it clear you’re not interested in any long-term arrangement. So the women back off, afraid to get involved with you. That’s what I hear. They’re afraid you’ll break their hearts.”
“Oh,
that’s
the problem,” he said ruefully. “Is that
your
problem?”
that’s
the problem,” he said ruefully. “Is that
your
problem?”
There was a long pause. She studied the coffee as if she might find the answer inside the cup. “You know what my problem is,” she said at last. “We’ve been over and over it. Here, have some coffee.” She handed him the cup, got up and restlessly walked around the cell, which took all of thirty seconds.
He took the cup and tasted her lips on the rim. Which only made him want to taste her lips directly, by taking her in his arms and molding his body to hers, by pressing his lips against hers, feeling them soften and part so he could explore the depths of her mouth. She was so close. So close and yet so far.
Other women? There were no other women. There would be no other women—at least not on a long-term basis. He reminded himself why not. He didn’t have to remind Suzy. She knew why. Yet she still wanted to hear more about his life. Wanted to hear the whole story. Well, she wasn’t going to. It was too sordid.
“I have to apologize for asking you to go hunting,” he said. “For making you second choice. Just because I was going with a buddy didn’t mean I wouldn’t have rather taken you. I just thought, well hell, I just never thought of asking you, didn’t think you’d want to go.”
She turned to face him and leaned back against the bars. “I don’t know if I would. I’ve never been camping. But it would have been better than being in jail.”
“Definitely better. I generally build a fire and barbecue something. Then lie on my back and watch the stars.”
“It sounds nice,” she said. “But I usually have Travis, so I’m not free to do that kind of thing.”
“Travis would love camping. I’ve got a three-man tent, and a backpack to carry him in.”
“He’s got a little sleeping bag,” Suzy said, getting into the spirit.
“And I’ve got two that zip together,” he added. He pictured himself lying under the stars with Suzy, zipped together in his double sleeping bag. Her hip pressed against his, her warm breath on his cheek, her hair spread across his foam pillow. Then he’d roll over, bury his face between her breasts. He stifled a moan. His heart banged against his ribs.
There was silence in the cell. Was Suzy thinking what he was thinking? Was she picturing what he was picturing? His gaze met hers and held for a long breathless moment. Her eyes, beautiful limpid hazel-green eyes, told him yes. Yes, she wanted what he wanted. She wanted to make love. But her lips told him no. Not in so many words. But in the way she ignored the mention of his sleeping bag for two.
“It’s only seven o’clock,” Suzy noted, briskly changing the subject. “What’ll we do until bedtime? And where will we sleep?” she asked, looking at the narrow cot as if she’d just seen it for the first time.
“You’ll sleep here,” he said, gesturing to the bed. “And I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“You can’t sleep on the floor. It’s hard and cold.”
“Just like camping,” he said. “Minus the stars.”
“And the sleeping bag,” she murmured.
“It’s light, filled with down, lined with flannel, lots of room.” He could see it, he could feel it. He wanted her to see it and feel it, too.
“Who usually sleeps in it with you?” she asked, eyes narrowed, head tilted to one side.
“Nobody. Since I bought it I’ve never asked anyone.
I always thought...I don’t know what I thought.” He shook his head. Had he thought, somewhere deep down, buried in his subconscious, that he’d someday find a woman to share his sleeping bag as well as his life? If he had, he was a fool. It was just a dream. A dream that wouldn’t come true. But he still couldn’t shake the image of Suzy in his sleeping bag or Suzy in his bed.
I always thought...I don’t know what I thought.” He shook his head. Had he thought, somewhere deep down, buried in his subconscious, that he’d someday find a woman to share his sleeping bag as well as his life? If he had, he was a fool. It was just a dream. A dream that wouldn’t come true. But he still couldn’t shake the image of Suzy in his sleeping bag or Suzy in his bed.
She cleared her throat. “Maybe we could sing some songs,” she suggested.
“Around the campfire?”
“No, in the cell. To pass the time. Do you know it’s getting a little cold in here?”
“No, why don’t you hum a few bars?”
“Brady, you know what I meant.”
He grinned and raised his right hand. “I swear I didn’t know. I thought it was a song.” He opened his mouth and sang in a tuneless baritone, “It’s getting a little cold in here.”
She giggled. She had the throatiest, sexiest giggle he’d ever heard. Why had he never noticed it before? How could he get her to do it again? Her laughter was contagious. He grinned, then he laughed, too. She laughed harder. Tears filled her eyes for the second time that evening. “That was so stupid,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know why I laughed.”
“To make me feel good?”
“That must be it. Okay, no songs. What does that leave?” she asked.
The answer was so obvious he just stared at her. Until she bit her lip and looked away.
“Brady...”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“You’re not interested.”
“That’s right, I’m not interested in an affair. I’ve been there, done that. And I suppose you have, too,” she suggested with a sidelong glance.
“Maybe. But you and I... it would be different.”
“Uh huh. Sure it would. Because we’re in a cell, is that it?”
“No, because we’re us. Because you’re you and I’m me and we’re good together.”
“For how long? One night? A weekend, a week? No thanks.”
“As long as you want, okay?” he asked.
“A lifetime, okay?” she answered.
His jaw tightened. “I can’t do that,” he said.
“Can’t...or won’t?” she asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine. I think I’ll lie down for a while. It’s been a long day.”
He got up and gestured gallantly toward the bed he’d just vacated. “It’s all yours. Oh, and when you want to use the facilities, I won’t look.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “Same here.”
The bed was narrow and hard, but lying there with the blanket wrapped around her, with her face to the wall, prevented her from watching Brady pace back and forth across the floor. But she heard him. Until he stopped pacing. Then she heard nothing. She told herself not to worry about him. He was used to camping out, sleeping on the hard ground. But she did worry. And wonder. Finally she turned over.
He was sitting on the floor, his chest resting on his knees, his head buried in his hands.
“What’s wrong?” she said softly.
He looked up, his eyes deep fathomless pools. “Nothing. Go to sleep.”
“I can’t. Not with you on the floor. I feel too guilty.”
He stood up. “Okay, I’ll take the bed, you sleep on the floor.”
She gripped the edge of the blanket as if he might try to take it away from her. “I don’t feel
that
guilty.”
that
guilty.”
“I have another idea.”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
She sighed and lifted the blanket. “Oh, all right. As long as we’re both fully dressed. But I don’t think it’s big enough for both of us.” She edged as far over as she could, pressing her shoulder against the wall, leaving at least six inches for his six-foot-three-inch frame. It would never work. Never.
The cot creaked and moaned under their combined weight. Brady wrapped his arms around her.
“Brady!” she cautioned, fighting the urge to nestle against him, to give in to her impulse, to let the warmth of his body cover her, surround her, be part of her. But, oh, it felt so good to have him there.
“Do you want me to fall off?” he demanded, so close she felt his warm breath on her face.
She didn’t answer. This proximity was making her crazy. Crazy with want Crazy with longing. She told herself to relax and enjoy it. Enjoy pretending she was part of a couple. A couple that ate together, that shared a bed, no matter how small, a couple that went camping with their baby and slept in a double sleeping bag. Just for this one night, she told herself, she’d pretend. What about tomorrow night, a niggling voice asked. She refused to listen. Tomorrow night was a long way off.
Brady ran his broad hands around her rib cage, his fingers dangerously close to her breasts. She held her breath, waiting, wondering, wanting. Her breasts
swelled, pressing against her lace bra, aching for his touch. When his hands moved under her sweater to cup the heavy fullness of her breasts, she covered his hands with hers.
swelled, pressing against her lace bra, aching for his touch. When his hands moved under her sweater to cup the heavy fullness of her breasts, she covered his hands with hers.
“Suzy,” Brady whispered. “You are so warm, so wonderful. And I want you so badly.” He trailed kisses down her neck, his fingers drawing concentric circles around her nipples. His body radiated heat. She was so warm she felt like a piece of taffy, softening in his arms until there was nothing left of her. Nothing left of him, either. Just one blob of togetherness. Just one where there had been two.
When his fingers brushed her breasts she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped from her throat. She had a wild desire to remove her bra, to take off all her clothes. She wanted to feel him next to her, around her and she wanted his throbbing arousal inside of her. She pressed her face into the pillow and prayed for the strength to resist these urges.
She didn’t have to. Brady apparently came to his senses and with a ragged sigh, he turned over. And promptly rolled off the bed.
“This isn’t going to work,” he said. “I’ll stay here on the floor.”
Still throbbing with desire, she rolled over and looked down at him. “If anyone goes on the floor, it should be me,” she said, striving for a matter-of-fact tone when her whole body was aching, yearning.... Maybe the hard, cold floor would dampen her runaway lust for her former boss.
“No way. What will that do to my reputation?” he asked.
“Who’s going to find out? I won’t tell,” she assured him, swinging one leg over the edge of the bed.
“You’re
not
sleeping on the floor,” he said, shoving her leg back onto the bed.
not
sleeping on the floor,” he said, shoving her leg back onto the bed.
She yanked on his ann. “Get back in here.”
He did what she said and fell on top of her. They rolled over together and bumped into the wall. “I can’t believe we’re fighting over this bed,” she gasped, catching her breath. “What is wrong with us?”
With his hands braced against her shoulders, he stared down at her with red hot desire flaming in his eyes. “It’s obvious,” he said. “You’re hot for me and you won’t be happy until you get me back in the sack with you.”
Before she could come up with an appropriately sarcastic reply he kissed her. Kissed her until she was breathless and aching for more. She pulled him down on top of her and kissed him back. In between the kisses he told her how much he wanted her. And all the things he wanted to do to her. And with her. His lips burned a fiery trail down her jaw. His words burned even hotter.
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