Beneath the Covers (Kimani Romance) (13 page)

Peter shot out of the van and raced over to Roy. Roy gasped for air with the palm of his hands on his knees. The pallor on Roy’s face and the wheezing sound from his chest ignited Peter’s temper. “Why didn’t you tell us you have asthma?”

“I…I…need…” Roy turned and grabbed the cuff of Peter’s shirt, fear evident in his eyes. Peter could feel Roy’s panic begin to rise, and Roy’s heightened emotion made him start to cough while his breathlessness and wheezing increased. He fell forward, and Peter caught him before he hit the ground.

An unrelenting curtain of rain soaked through their clothes and softened the earth beneath them, making the path slippery and treacherous. Peter switched into automatic. After his brother’s attack, he’d learned all he could about first aid so that he could be prepared for any event. On the football field he’d helped a fellow player suffering from heatstroke. As a volunteer firefighter he’d performed CPR on a heart attack victim, reset a broken arm, even aided a choking child. But never this. He hadn’t dealt with a severe asthma attack since his brother’s years ago, and for a second his mind went blank and he was a helpless ten-year-old watching the brother he’d idolized slip away from him. If he didn’t act fast enough or do the right thing, Roy could die or end up like his brother.

He remembered the white walls of the hospital ward where they’d kept Thomas, the Asian nurse who always smiled at him but would never give him straight answers to his many questions. He remembered his brother’s physical therapy to help him walk and talk again and how they’d applauded when he’d been able to use a spoon again. He remembered the arguments his parents would have at night that would always leave his mother in tears.

I’m not going through this again,
Peter thought, pushing back those memories as he registered the heaviness of Roy’s limp body. He wouldn’t let Roy’s family go through it, either. Let this be his redemption for what he hadn’t been able to do then.

“Roy, where is your medicine?” Peter demanded, shaking him.

Roy didn’t respond. He was drifting in and out of consciousness.

Peter yelled to Lance. “Bring me Roy’s backpack.”

“What’s going on?” Lance said, anxious.

“Just get me his damn backpack,” Peter snapped.

Lance reached into the back of the SUV, grabbed Roy’s backpack then rushed over to where Peter was.

“Roy’s having an asthma attack,” Peter said. “I need his medicine fast or this guy’s going to die.” He nodded to the backpack. “There should be an inhaler in there somewhere.”

Lance searched the bag. “I don’t see it. What does it lo—?”

Peter grabbed the backpack and swiftly searched through its contents until he found it. He adjusted Roy’s position. “Lance, I need you to support him.” He saw the fear on the other man’s face and said, “He’ll make it,” knowing that Lance needed the assurance. He understood how frightening it was to witness someone struggle to breath and basically have their own lungs suffocate them, but he needed Lance to focus. “It’s probably a stress-induced attack brought on by the frightening storm conditions. His medicine will help.” Peter slapped Roy’s face hard.

Roy’s eyes briefly fluttered open, and Peter administered the medicine.

“Breathe, Fitcher. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.” When Roy’s eyes opened again, Peter could still see the panic and fear in them. “I’m not going to let you die. You’re going to be okay. I’m right here with you. You’re going to be fine.” Peter continued to talk to Roy while administering the medication, and soon Roy’s color started coming back and his breathing returned to normal.

Lance released a sigh of relief.

“We need to get out of here,” Peter said. “He’s going to be weak from this. Help me get him to the van.”

The two men carried the half-conscious Roy to the SUV and put him in the backseat.

“Hey man, how are you with driving an SUV in this rain?” Peter asked, jumping in the backseat with Roy.

“This will be easy. I used to be a long-distance truck driver before I decided to go into film. Buckle up. U.S.A., here we come.”

The medication was taking effect. Peter saw Roy’s color return, and he was no longer fighting for every breath. Roy closed his eyes.

But when they were within five miles of the airport, they saw a blockage ahead.

“I’m sorry, sir,” an Italian officer said, “but you cannot continue on this road.”

“We are with a film crew from America, and we need to get to the airport right away to catch our flight. We don’t want to be stranded here. My colleague just had a serious asthma attack and needs to get home and see his personal physician,” Peter said.

The officer looked at Roy.

“Okay, you can go. Drive slowly and instead of driving through the water, try to drive on the edge of the puddles. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

At the airport, Peter picked up all three tickets and they were soon getting into a small plane. Roy had recovered enough to sit up, but the attack had exhausted him.

“How did you know what to do?” Roy asked, his voice barely audible.

“I have a brother with asthma,” Peter admitted with some reluctance. Then he bit his lip. “Can I tell you about him?”

Roy nodded and Peter told him the story of his past that he no longer wanted to keep secret or be ashamed of.

And as he spoke, Roy’s image of Peter as a calculated ladies’ man floated away, followed by his picture of him as a self-serving jock, rich jerk and arrogant bestselling author until all that was left was an ordinary man. He’d misjudged him on every level. When Peter was finished, Roy shook his head in admiration and disbelief. “I was right, you are a fraud.”

Peter laughed. “Thanks,” he said without rancor.

“No, in a good way,” Roy clarified, not wanting to cause offense. “You play a role that’s not really who you are. You’re smarter and deeper than anyone thinks. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.”

Peter shrugged, brushing aside his praise. “It works for me.”

But Roy refused to let Peter dismiss him. He seized Peter’s hand, and when he spoke his voice shook with emotion. “I owe you my life. I didn’t have any brothers until now. Until you. If you ever need anything, let me know.”

A brother. Not to replace the one he had, but to add to his life. Someone he could depend on and trust. Peter gripped Roy’s shoulder and said, “I will.”

The scent of freshly polished wood and her favorite linen-and-sky scented carpet deodorizer greeted Claudia when she entered her apartment. “Thank you, Noreen,” she whispered while squatting down to pat Madame Curie, who had come up to welcome her. She sat down on the couch and didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until a soft knock on the door woke her. She saw that it was dark. Opening her eyes, Claudia squinted at her watch then opened the door. Peter stood there, red-eyed and exhausted. She didn’t ask him why he was there. She just hugged him.

“I was worried.”

“You thought a storm and an ocean could keep us apart?”

Claudia caressed his face with her two hands, feeling the day-old stubble of his beard. “You look as tired as I feel. Come on.” She took his hand and led him into her bedroom. They didn’t speak. They got in bed, pulled up the covers and fell asleep, happy to be together.

Several hours later, Peter woke up with a start. “What’s that?”

Claudia yawned. “What’s what?”

He glanced at the door on alert. “I heard a noise.”

“It’s probably Madame Curie.” Claudia turned back over to sleep.

“Madame who?”

“My cat—I never let her hear me call her that—it annoys her. She only responds if you call her by her name.”

Peter didn’t respond. He was focused on what he perceived to be a danger. “No. The sound’s larger than what a cat, excuse me, Madame Curie could do.” He stood, tense. “Give me something.”

Claudia quickly grabbed a wooden clothes hanger out of her closet and handed it to Peter.

He waved it in the air, exasperated. “What do you expect me to do with this?”

“I couldn’t find anything. Wait.” She disappeared into the bathroom then returned.

Peter frowned. “A curling iron? Never mind. Stay here.” He exited and quietly closed the door.

Claudia waited by the door, and seconds later she heard a piercing scream. She ran into the kitchen and saw Noreen holding up a butcher knife.

Peter pushed Claudia behind him. “I told you to stay in the bedroom.”

“It’s okay. I know her. Noreen, he’s with me.”

Noreen kept her grip on the knife. “You’re not supposed to be back yet. What are you doing here?”

“We came back early.”

“It would have been nice if you’d told me.” Noreen looked somewhat relieved, but she still held the knife out.

“You can put the knife down.” Claudia came out from behind Peter.

Noreen returned the knife to the slot in the butcher-block holder on the counter then folded her arms, waiting for some sort of explanation. “You weren’t supposed to arrive back for another week,” she said, annoyed.

“I know. It’s a long story. But let me introduce you. Noreen, this is Peter. Peter, this is Noreen.”

Peter held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Noreen briefly shook his hand. “You scared the s—”

“Noreen,” Claudia warned.

Peter grinned. “I’m sorry about that.”

Claudia turned to Peter. “Darling, why don’t you go and get changed so I can talk to Noreen?”

Peter took his cue and left.

Noreen watched him go, then whispered, “Talk about taking your work home with you. No wonder you’ve been keeping him a secret. He looks even better in person.”

“I can explain.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m just surprised he’s the so-called Mr. I’ll-Never-Marry.”

“What do you mean?”

“That guy isn’t a player. He’s got ‘commitment’ written all over his face.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s like me. We both don’t want to get married. Ever.”

Noreen shrugged, unconvinced. “If you say so.”

Claudia loved her friend, but sometimes she could grate on her nerves. “Besides, how can you know that?”

“I know men, and he’s the serious sort. Funny, he looks younger than his photos. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No.”

“Just don’t break his heart, okay?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Be gentle. Try not to get too serious.”

“When have you ever known me to get serious about a man?”

“You have a point. But he’s a smooth liar.”

“What do you mean?” Claudia said bewildered.

“He said it was ‘nice to meet me.’ It’s never nice to meet a woman with a knife aimed at your chest. But with that voice, I almost believed him.” Noreen looked down at her watch. “Well, I’d better go.”

“Sorry for the mix-up. Thanks for looking after things for me.”

“It was fun, but Madame Curie doesn’t like to be left alone. Twice when I came back I saw papers moved and once a box knocked over.”

Claudia frowned. “Madame Curie is usually careful. Perhaps something frightened her.”

Noreen began to grin. “She won’t be left alone now.” She turned to the door.

“Wait.” Claudia rushed over to where she’d dumped her luggage. She reached inside a large paper bag. “Here. This is for you.”

Noreen pulled on her coat. “Thanks, you shouldn’t have.” She picked up her handbag and walked to the door. “Just a word of advice.”

“What?”

“Whatever he asks for, say ‘yes.’”

“I didn’t realize you had such dangerous friends,” Peter said as they ate breakfast in Claudia’s kitchenette.

“We surprised her. She didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

“She’s a little thing, but she’s lethal.”

Claudia laughed. “Noreen? Never.”

“Hmm,” Peter said, doubtful, then he reached into his pocket. “Oh, Roy sent us these,” he said, placing pictures of them on the table. “He also sent soft copies.”

Amazed, Claudia picked up the photos of her and Peter in the different countries they’d visited—one with them on the beach, another walking along a street, a third kissing behind an olive tree. “Roy took these? Why?”

“Blackmail?”

Claudia looked up and frowned. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.” Peter picked up one photo and studied it. “He thought he was protecting you.”

“Then why did he decide to give them to you?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s just say it’s done now.”

“I’m glad he did,” Claudia said with a slight shudder. “Especially this one.”

Peter took the picture from her. It was of them in a jewelry store. “What’s so special about it?”

“This one looks like we’re buying an engagement ring. In the wrong hands this picture could get us into trouble.”

Peter looked at the photo with renewed interest. “Would that be so bad?”

“I’m going to blame that kind of talk on your jet lag.” She paused. “How long can you stay?”

“Just a few days, then I have some work to do back in Georgia.”

“Great.” She would accept whatever time he could give her. Don’t get serious, she heard Noreen say. She wouldn’t. Claudia knew that the more casual their affair was, the safer she was.

But during the next two months, she felt less and less casual about him. Peter would drive up for the weekend, and they filled the days going hiking, visiting a local art gallery which was featuring the art of Jacob Lawrence and riding their bikes around a lake near her apartment. One weekend they went in-line skating. Although Claudia enjoyed Peter’s visits, she still felt that there was more to him than he let her see. So she decided to turn the tables on him.

C
laudia checked the address again to make certain she was at the right place, then she looked at the heavy oak-paneled door of his town house. Surprising Peter might not be a good idea, but after driving for six and a half hours it wouldn’t make sense to turn back. The drive down had been a breeze. No construction, no accidents, which was amazing. And with the weather in the low nineties, Claudia had been able to really enjoy her convertible—and topped eighty miles per hour at times—though always on the lookout for the police.

But now she was here, and there was no going back. She took a deep breath then knocked. Peter took a while to answer and when he did, he didn’t look shocked—he looked thunderstruck.

“Claudia!”

“Yes.” She forced a smile. “Surprise!”

“That it is.” He glanced behind him. “Um…”

Her smile faltered. “Is this a bad time?”

“Hurry up, Peter,” a female voice called out to him. “I want you to stay hard.”

Peter briefly shut his eyes. “I’ll be right there.”

Claudia took a step back. “Obviously it
is
a bad time.”

Peter grabbed her hand. “You know me better than that. Come on.” He yanked her in then closed the door. “I’ve got my brother for the weekend.” He helped her remove her coat and took her suitcase. “Right now we’re doing crafts.”

Claudia followed him into the kitchen and saw three people sitting at the table with an assortment of colored paper, scissors and glue spread out everywhere. The young woman looked up and smiled. “Everyone, say hello to Peter’s guest.”

“Hello!”

Peter did the introductions. “This is Penelope. She’s an art instructor. And this is Trevor. And this is my brother, Thomas.”

“Trevor is my best friend,” Thomas said with a grin. He was a tall man with large hands and, like his brother, boyish features. “Do you know how to make lemon meringue rice pudding?”

“No,” Claudia said.

“Peter and I can show you.”

Claudia sent Peter a look and he mouthed “It’s okay” before he disappeared with her suitcase into another room. Claudia went over to the sink and washed her hands then stood next to Thomas. He walked over to a pantry and took out a flowered colored apron and put it on Claudia. By the time Peter returned his brother had all the ingredients laid out. “We need brown sugar, cornstarch, ground cinnamon, low-fat milk, cooked rice, margarine, eggs, lemon peel.” He took a breath and then continued, “And lemon juice, sugar, vanilla and sliced almonds.”

Thomas held up a stained recipe card. “We’re using a recipe, and I’m reading it because I can read better than Peter.”

Claudia glanced at Peter, uncomfortable with Thomas’s remark, but Peter didn’t seem bothered by his bother’s comment. He looked proud.

“Yes. Thomas is a really good cook,” Peter said. “I’m just his assistant.”

Thomas continued with his instructions. “We have to mix everything together and then put it in the oven to cook,” he said then proceeded to carefully measure each ingredient, referring back periodically to the instructions. While waiting for the dessert to cook, Thomas and Trevor showed Claudia their other crafts. After baking in the oven, the dessert was ready for the final touches. Thomas proudly spooned the meringue over the center of the pudding and sprinkled it with almonds, then he baked the dish uncovered for another ten minutes before serving it.

“This is delicious!” Claudia said, licking her spoon in an unladylike fashion. “Thomas, I’ve never had anything so good.” Trevor, Pamela and Peter agreed. Thomas beamed. Claudia didn’t wait to be asked and offered to wash the dishes while Trevor and Thomas completed the craft they’d been doing earlier.

Before Trevor and Penelope left Peter instructed the two men to clean up and put everything in a large blue plastic bin.

Claudia picked up her handbag. “I guess I should be going, as well.”

“You mean you drove over six hours just to spend a couple of hours?” Claudia flushed.
If only he knew what she had packed in her overnight bag.
“No, I…” She looked in Thomas’s direction.

Peter rubbed his upper arm. “You don’t have to go. You won’t be in the way.”

“What else do you have planned?” She hadn’t considered that Peter might have company.

“The park or a movie,” Thomas shouted, not looking up from what he was doing.

Claudia still felt awkward and a little foolish for her impulsive decision to come.

Peter took her handbag. “You won’t be in the way. This is such a fabulous surprise and treat for us, and I want you to stay.”

Claudia looked at Thomas. “Do you mind if I stay?”

“Can we still go to the park?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t mind.”

“Great, let’s go.”

At the park, Thomas monopolized Claudia and showed her all his favorite places, including the jungle gym, which he’d grown too big to play on; an artificial pond where they sometimes went fishing; a wooden bridge and Japanese gazebo; the petting zoo with a handful of pigs, sheep, goats and a pony; and his favorite—the carousel. Although she didn’t want to, Thomas convinced Claudia to ride the carousel with him, at least two times, before they all sat at a picnic table eating large waffle ice-cream cones.

That night Peter tucked Thomas in bed then joined Claudia on the sofa, draping his arm over her shoulder.

“This was a great day. Thank you. You really made him happy.” He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead.

“He’s fun to be with.”

“Yeah.”

“And he likes to talk about a lot of things.”

Peter nodded.

“He even told me his birth date.”

Peter focused on the TV. “Really?” He pushed a button on the remote.

“Yes, including the year he was born.”

Peter stilled.

“I was surprised. It was the exact same year you were born. It started me thinking. How could that be? You’re not twins and he looks older than you. So I figured you took his birthday because you wanted to emulate him. But that leaves me with one important question. How old are you?”

“You know how old I am.”

“I know how old your driver’s license says you are. Wait! Your brother and I are nearly the same age. So that means you’re younger than me?”

“Claudia.”

“By how much?”

“Let’s—”

She covered her mouth. “The bouncer was right all those years ago. You
were
underage!”

“It’s not like that.”

“You’ve always looked so young. It was staring me in the face, and I slept with you. Tell me the sex was legal.”

“Yes, it was. I was over twenty.”

“By how much?”

“Enough.”

“How much?”

“A year.”

“You were twenty-one! Oh, my God, you’re still in your twenties?”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of a four-year age difference.”

“Six.”

“What?”

“It’s really six.” Claudia looked away.

“You mean you’re—”

“Don’t say it. I’m just closer to mid-thirty than early thirty,” she said, unable to look at him.

“Why?”

“My mother wanted to put me in a certain program, so she fudged the numbers and never changed them back.”

He laughed.

“It’s not funny.” She lowered her head, embarrassed.

He nuzzled her neck. “I always knew I’d gotten myself a sexy older woman.”

Claudia shook her head in disbelief. “Even Noreen saw how young you are just from her brief encounter at my place.”

“I may look young, but I’m man enough for you, so let’s not make this an issue.” Peter pulled her closer and lifted her chin up.

“It’s the voice that makes you appear older.” She looked into his eyes.

He rested his head back. “Claudia.”

“All right, all right. I won’t mention it again. So what do you have planned for tomorrow?”

“Dinner at Stephano’s.”

“Great.” Claudia stifled a laugh. “Kids eat half price.”

Peter sent her a glance but didn’t reply. However, he got his revenge that night by proving he was all man, and she never teased him again.

That Saturday, Peter decided to treat Claudia and Thomas to a day trip on a private boat he rented. They drove out of town to a small lake, where he showed off his boating skills while she took pictures and Thomas watched the birds. In midmorning, Peter anchored the boat and they dined on a packed picnic basket that Peter had purchased from a local deli, which included one of Claudia’s favorite wines. After arriving home, they rested then went to a movie and later to Stephano’s for dinner.

“This has been one of the best weekends ever,” Thomas said as Peter helped his brother prepare for bed.

“I’m glad.”

After saying his prayers, Thomas got into bed. “I really, really like Claudia.”

Peter picked up the worn copy of
Robinson Crusoe
lying on the table beside his bed and handed it to him. Even when they were children, Peter had enjoyed listening to his brother read adventure tales. Those memories held special significance to him now. “I like her, too.” He nodded and opened the book. “Okay, what chapter are we on?”

Thomas set the book aside. “So are you going to marry her?”

Peter sighed. “The first girlfriend I introduce to you, and you already have us walking down the aisle?”

He nodded happily. “I
really
like her.”

Peter opened the book and flipped through its pages. “I know you do.”

“And she likes me.”

“Yes.” He handed the book to his brother and tapped the page. “I think we stopped here.”

“I don’t want her to go away.”

“She won’t go away.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Thomas closed the book. “She’ll make a pretty bride. Remember when Mom got married? Wasn’t she pretty, and Yvette?”

Peter nodded, remembering his stepsister’s wedding.

“Can I be your best man?”

“Only if you’ll read the next chapter,” Peter said, determined to change the topic.

Thomas grinned, opened the book and began to read.

That night Peter stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. His brother made everything sound so simple. But it wasn’t. Claudia would have to give up a lot to be with him. He couldn’t leave Georgia. He needed to be close to his brother. Would she be willing to give up her life in North Carolina? It would be a risk for both of them, but she fit into his life. He liked how well she got on with Thomas. If he asked her to marry him, at least he’d know how she really felt about him.

The next morning Peter woke to the smell of cinnamon and sugar. He left his bedroom and found Thomas and Claudia preparing breakfast. Thomas gingerly put icing on a tray of hot cinnamon buns.

“Hmm, something smells good,” Peter said.

“We’re making breakfast,” Thomas replied.

Claudia patted him on the back. “He’s a great helper.”

Peter saw the pride on his brother’s face and then gazed at the woman who’d put it there, his heart buoyant. “Thanks for doing this.”

“I don’t mind.”

He bit his lip, gathering courage. He’d ask her now. He took her hand, although his trembled a little. “Claudia?”

“Yes?”

He swallowed. “Will you—”

“Aaggh!”

They jumped apart and turned.

Thomas held his arm. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, his eyes wide with fear. Hot sticky icing was all over the front of his apron and on his forearm.

Claudia quickly rushed over. “It’s okay, Thomas. Let me see.” Without realizing it, Claudia’s medical training kicked in. His skin was already a bright red and turning purple—she knew it was probably a second-or third-degree burn that would blister. “We need to take him to the nearest hospital.”