What a Woman Needs (25 page)

As an actor, he knew the power of words, but as a man, he’d never been faced with the true feelings they evoked.

He choked back that emotion, blinked a few times because, yeah, it hurt, then pulled
stoic
out of his repertoire. “You’re right, of course.” He flexed his fingers behind her neck, surprised to find he was still touching her there. He’d been kissing her not two minutes ago, his fingers buried in those silky curls he wanted spread out on a pillow beneath them, and now he had to let her go.

He exhaled and dropped his hand. “I wish you all the best, Beth.”

“You, too, Bryan.” Her voice was husky and if she hadn’t been the one to ask him to leave, he’d swear she was choked up about it.

“Well . . .” He cleared the huskiness out of his own throat. “I guess I’ll get my hat and go. Mac can come by for any supplies I left.”

“Yes. That’s fine.”

“Good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Bryan. Best of luck with your movie.”

The damn romantic comedy that he didn’t feel one ounce of happiness about making right now because he would be portraying on screen what he might possibly just have given up in real life.

T
HE
kids were disappointed. Well, Kelsey was devastated, certain that her newfound popularity would take a Twitter nosedive. Jason, too, seemed subdued, morphing back into the sulky teenage boy mien he’d lost in the last two weeks.

The twins kept saying, “When Bryan comes back,” and Maggie had set up a special place on her desk to make a list of everything that happened in her days so she could remember to tell Bryan when he returned to clean out her dollhouse from Mrs. Beecham’s fur.

Beth didn’t have the heart to tell her that wasn’t going to happen. They would all figure it out eventually, hopefully when the excitement of him being here had faded. She didn’t want to destroy their dreams.

But, God,
her
dreams. Every single one was of Bryan. She woke up the next day with an ache between her thighs that hadn’t been there even when he
had
been.

She should have slept with him. Should have made him take her up on that tree fort offer. Should have made the memories that would carry her through the next few weeks—months maybe—until she got over him. Damn it; she hated that Kara had been right.

The phone rang, thankfully giving her the distraction she needed—until she heard who it was.

“Hello, Mrs. Hamilton. This is Mac Manley. I understand you terminated my brother’s position and I wanted to find out what the problem was. I’d like to fix it if I can.”

The only problem was that he was too sexy for her own good. “There wasn’t any problem. It’s just that he’s done everything that needed to be done, and well, he has that movie coming up—”

“Which he wasn’t slated to start for another week and a half. Did he do something? Ruin something?”

Only her for another man.

Snap out of it!

Beth shook her head to clear it because Mac couldn’t see her do it. “No. Bryan was a great worker. He went above and beyond, but, well, he was finished. I don’t have anything more to keep him busy, and it seemed foolish to waste his time by making up things for him to do. I figured he’d be better off on his movie set.”

Mac sighed on the other end of the phone. “I could send someone else out. Free of charge of course. I’ll refund the balance of what was paid.”

“That’s not necessary, really. Bryan did the work in good faith. I was the one who let him go. Keep the money. And, no, I don’t want anyone else.”

She had a feeling she never would, either.

Okay, Beth, really. Snap out of it! You are not going to waste the rest of your life pining for this guy. He’s moved on; you need to as well.

“I certainly am not going to keep the money if Manley Maids didn’t earn it,” said Mac. “I will be returning it.”

“Why don’t you donate it, then? To the library or the school or something. Someone else who can use your services but can’t afford to pay for them. Really, it’s not necessary. Bryan did a great job; it’s just that it’s over now.”

Something she’d be reminding herself for many nights to come.

 • • • 

W
HAT
did you do?”

“Mac—”

“So help me, Bryan, what did you do?”

“Mac—”

“You leave me some bullshit message and I have to call my own client to find out what happened. And
she
wouldn’t tell me anything. Did you pull some of your Rico Suave crap and make her fall in love with you, then brush her off like yesterday’s starlet?”

“Mac—”

“Four weeks, Bry!
Four
weeks! That’s all I asked. That was our bet, remember? And you couldn’t even do that? Seriously, what is the
matter
with you? Do you have to run after everything in a skirt? I thought a woman with five kids would be enough of a deterrent, but, noooo. Not my brother, the stud. Has to put a notch in every bed post, I guess. I can’t believe—”

“Hold the hell on, Mary-Alice Catherine Manley!” Bryan’s blood pressure rose along with his voice and he dropped the boxers he’d been trying to shove into the duffel bag. His car was going to be here in less than five minutes. He did
not
have time for this. “I am not some Neanderthal who has to make a conquest wherever he goes and you know it. Don’t say that shit to me! I was nothing but circumspect around Beth and her kids.”

Well, except when he was kissing her. Then he’d been horny as hell. But so had Beth, so he doubted she’d ratted him out to his sister for that.

He picked up the boxers and shoved them into the duffel, then zipped it—and
of course
the damn teeth caught on them. Wedging the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he tried to yank the cloth free. “Beth had issues with the media coverage that comes with the Bryan Manley package and I can’t blame her. After what she and her kids have been through . . . Why the hell did you send me there?” Something Mac had said came back to him. “Fuck. You sent me to her
because
she had five kids? Because you know that’s the
last
thing I want in my life and you’re so worried about me hitting on your clients that you had to send me to the one you thought I wouldn’t want?”

He was insulted. He’d never given Mac any reason to mistrust his professionalism or his word. And he’d
given
her his word he’d be professional while working for her—granted, he’d meant in how he cleaned the homes because he had, after all, tried to get out of this damn bet, but seriously? She thought he’d hit on her clients?

“Oh don’t turn this around on me, Bryan Matthew. I did it for you. I mean, no one’s going to think you’d be interested in a widow with kids, least of all her. It was the safest assignment I could come up with. Can you imagine if another client had had her sights set on you? You’d be changing sheets and light bulbs and dresser drawers in her bedroom and wondering how you were going to get out of there at the end of the day. I did you a favor.”

He wasn’t going to tell her exactly how much of a favor she
had
done him. Well,
would
have
done for him if this thing with Beth could go somewhere. But it couldn’t. And Beth, smart lady, had known that enough to ask him to leave.

He looked around for the folder with his script in it. He was going to have to bone up on his lines because he hadn’t been as diligent as he normally was about memorizing them, since he’d been so busy with Beth and the kids. “I didn’t do anything, Mac, but I’ll pay for the rest of the month.”

“She won’t let me return the money. She told me to donate it.”

Ah. There was the file on top of the island in his kitchen among half a dozen bills he better pay before he left. Shit, he didn’t have time. He stuck those inside the file. “Pick out a victim’s group. I’ll double whatever you donate.”

“You’re a prince, Bry.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they tell me.” He tucked the file into the front flap of his laptop bag.

“I was being sarcastic. Far be it from me to build your ego any more than it already is.”

It was an old mantra. Mac would never let him get a big head out of love.

“So we’re good?” He looked around his house for anything he might have forgotten. Sadly, the place was woefully bereft of
things
. Just a high-def TV, a sound system to blow the roof off, and some paintings a decorator he’d hired had said to buy. He didn’t even like impressionistic art, yet there it was on his walls. This place was about as homey as Maggie’s dollhouse. Actually, the dollhouse was homier, given that Mrs. Beecham’s fur gave it a lived-in feeling, whereas his place felt more like a way station. “You’re going to get off my case now about doing something to piss her off?”

“You promise you didn’t?”

“I promise.” Pissing Beth off had never been his motive. Turning her on, getting her hot and bothered, yeah. All the things Mac had specifically decided Beth wouldn’t be interested in.

Mac hadn’t been in that gazebo. And on the deck last night.

He swung the duffel bag straps over his shoulder as the limo pulled up out front. Nice perk, that. “I gotta go, Mac. Send someone else over to Beth. She deserves a break.”

“Like I said, Bry, you’re a prince.”

“And now I get to go play one in the movies. I’m heading to the coast.”

“You still owe me, bro.”

“What?” He juggled the phone and his keys as he locked up.

“The bet. It was for four weeks and you’re cutting out early.”

“It’s not enough that I’m paying for it? Double?” He dumped his keys in the duffel. Wouldn’t be needing them for a while.

“You always renege on a bet?”

“I never do.” He slung the straps over his shoulder, juggling the phone and his temper. “Fine. Next time I get a break between films, I’ll do the remaining eight days.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

He nodded to the driver who opened the door, then slid into the back. “You do that.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“Bye, sis.”

“Bye, big bro.”

She hung up before him of course. Mac liked having the last word and she loved to tease him about being her big bro. He was the youngest of the three brothers and it never failed to bug the shit out of him when his brothers called him
the baby
. Well he’d shown them. The biggest name on the marquis for this movie was going to be his. He was finally on his way to the big time.

Too bad it felt more like being on his way merely to a job.

 • • • 

Y
OU
let him get away?” Kara literally almost dropped the bottle of wine, which was a major sin in Kara-Land.

Beth took it from her and set it on the slate patio table. “I didn’t
let
him do anything. He was finished, so he left.”

“I’m not buying it.” Jess threw her hands up. “No one, and I mean
no one,
lets Bryan Manley leave before his time is up. You had him in your home, in the palm of your hand if you wanted, and he was under contract to stay there, and you let him leave? Honestly, Beth, are you trying to sabotage your love life?”

Beth looked around for the bottle opener. Something to distract them from this conversation. Wine ought to do it. “There
is
no love life, guys. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Just because you put him in my home doesn’t mean sparks are going to fly.”

“Uh-huh.” They both sat back and crossed their arms.

“You forget, we saw you at the happy hour. We saw
him
at the happy hour. The man couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

She’d felt them. At least, she’d hoped that’d been what it was, but realistically, she’d told herself it was just wishful thinking.

The
whole
thing with Bryan had been wishful thinking.

“Can we change the topic? I’m kind of sick of talking about him.” That was because the reporters hadn’t left. Funny that she and Bryan had agreed he’d leave to end the invasion, but that’d only started another round of interest. They’d been all over his duties in her home and why she had fired him.

So, of course, she’d had to defuse that rumor, and then there’d been the questions of how her kids were dealing with their newfound fame, given what’d happened two years ago, and it hadn’t been pretty as she’d tried to shield the kids from the questions and comments while trying to get these people off her property and not show them how painful it was, because in her experience, the more emotional an issue, the more they buzzed around it like bees. If she made it out to be no big deal, they’d back off.

So Beth had had to suck it up and pretend that all the commotion on her yard wasn’t turning her into a mass of nerves and smile sweetly and answer their questions with as noncommittal an answer as she possibly could. Hence, tonight’s gathering at Kara’s, with the kids in the pool and the game room, and her with a glass of wine in front of her, now that she’d pried out the cork and poured some for each of them.

“Okay, so what else do you want to talk about?” Kara picked up her glass and swirled it around like a sommelier. “The new clothesline in your backyard? Oh, wait. Bryan did that. How about your new sink in the kids’ bathroom. Oh, wait. Bryan again. And what about the hole in the fence that got sealed—oops, Bryan again.” She punctuated each sentence with a swirl of her wine. “Your trip to Martinson’s Amusements? Oh, Bryan was there, wasn’t he? And what about the doctor you had dinner with? You know, the one who was tossed out of the restaurant by none other than one Bryan-Manley-to-the-rescue. Gee, Beth, what else is there to talk about?”

Beth glared at Kara over the rim of her glass. “How about summer camps? How about where you’re going on vacation? What about the sun room you’re putting on, Jess? Who your kids got for teachers next year? There’s a lot we can talk about and it doesn’t have to revolve around Bryan.”

“I just don’t get it. Don’t you want someone in your life?” Kara’s wine was still swirling. “Don’t you want to be wanted again, Beth? To have a companion?”

The hell with it. Beth downed her wine. Not that it was a lot, since she’d only poured a quarter of the glass, but still, it felt good to make the statement.

“Of course I do. But not with Bryan. Come on, guys, you know what kind of life he leads. I can’t raise kids in that fishbowl. And who’s to say I’d even get that chance? Bryan doesn’t want to raise someone else’s kids. And definitely not five of them.”