Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design (73 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

H
E
DIDN
'
T
HAVE
SEX
. But he was going to.

As soon as Darin had retired to his room on Saturday night, Grant picked up the phone.

“I was wondering if you'd call.” Lynn's sexy drawl greeted him after one ring.

“It's such a waste.” With his phone to his ear he walked through his room into the adjoining bathroom.

“What is?”

Shrugging out of his shirt, he tossed it into the clothes hamper. Which was overflowing.

“You there, without Kara for the night, and me here.”

“Maddie stayed here tonight. By the time we got back, all the lights were out in the girls' bungalow where she has weekend sleepovers. Remember I told you that Gwen has Friday and Saturday nights off and Maddie either stays here or with a group of young girls who like to do makeup?”

“Right. I forgot.” He lobbed his pants over to cover his shirt. “Is she sitting right there?”

“No. She's in her room.”

Stepping out of his underwear, Grant tossed them, too, turned off the light and, penis hard and heavy, walked back to the bedroom, pulled back his covers and lay on top of the sheet in the dark.

“We need to figure out when we're going to finish what we started.”

There was a long pause. “Where are you?”

“Home.”

The moon cast shadows on his ceiling, creating shapes. One looked like the silhouette of a woman's breast. And that one...a thigh. Or maybe a butt... “I figured you were home. I heard Maddie talking and suspected she was on the phone with Darin. Are you in bed?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes.” Her tone dropped.

“What do you wear to bed?”

“A nightgown.”

“With panties underneath?”

“No.”

His penis was ready to explode.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Kara's due back by noon. And Sundays are grocery, laundry and cleaning days.”

“Darin and I do laundry on Sundays, too.”

“He can do laundry, then?”

“He can't sort the clothes but he's obsessive about listening for the dryer to stop and changing loads—I put a chart on the washer that tells him what temperature to set for what color. And the soap dispenser is marked for how much soap to put in. I just always make sure I sort the loads first. And I made some wooden signs that I put on the loads after I sort them that tell him the color.”

“Is he color blind?”

“No, but if something's plaid, or striped, and has white and blue, for instance, he freaks out over which color to call the load.”

He wasn't going to have sex tonight. And talking was better than lying in the dark with nothing to distract him from his hard-on.

“He's also a whiz at folding and hanging. He's good at pretty much anything that's done the same way every time. Which is fine because I like a neat closet.”

“I hang my clothes all facing the same way.”

“Short sleeve with short sleeve?”

“Yes.”

“I hang my T-shirts.”

Her chuckle set his groin in motion again.

“When are we going to get together?”

“I'm not sure. It'll have to be a time when you don't have Darin and I don't have Kara.”

“Or when Kara's asleep. People who have kids still have sex.”

“Right.”

Was she having second thoughts? He almost asked but didn't want to chance the answer.

Running his hand through his hair, he wondered if that was a coffin he saw up there on the ceiling. Were the shadows changing? He couldn't find the breast.

“So when does that leave us?”

And wasn't this precisely why he wasn't in a relationship? There simply was no time or occasion with the obligations he had.

“I was thinking...maybe...depending on your schedule...a week from Wednesday? I checked my book and, unless I get an emergency, I don't have an appointment between three and four, which is when Kara has predance class at day care and Darin's in therapy. I can block out the time now so that nothing gets scheduled.”

She'd already checked her book. Didn't sound like second thoughts to him.

“At your place?”

There was the breast again. How could he have missed it up there?

“Yeah. We can say you were working on my landscape lighting.”

It was already installed.

“In your bedroom?”

“No one is going to know you were in my bedroom.”

Good. They were on the same page. “So we're agreed that no one will know about the change in our...situation.”

He had to be discreet. For Darin's sake. His brother didn't deal well with change.

“Of course.”

He was making an appointment to have sex.

Feeling tired all of a sudden, Grant pulled the covers up over his waist. His life wasn't typical, wasn't for everyone, but it was his.

And he had it under control.

* * *

L
YNN
WAS
HOME
with Kara Sunday evening, enjoying some rare alone time with the precocious three-year-old, when her phone rang.

Lila was with a woman at the clinic. A new arrival with obvious injuries. She had no idea how serious they were and the woman refused to let her call an ambulance, certain that her husband would get to the hospital and finish off what he'd started.

Lynn would have liked to think the woman's fears were grounded in drama and overreaction, but she knew better. According to Bureau of Justice statistics, a woman died of spousal abuse in the United States every six hours.

Maria Cleveland was not going to be one of them. While her injuries had been serious enough to require a trip to the emergency room, Lynn had accompanied her and stayed with her. And she and Maria had signed paperwork to allow Maria to be released into her private care.

It was almost two in the morning by the time Maria was settled in a bed in the bungalow closest to Lynn's, with one of the residents sitting up with her, waking her every hour, so Lynn could head back home.

A light was on next to the sofa, and she could hear the television.

“Hi, everything okay?” Amy, a sixty-year-old grandmother who had been at the Stand for a little over two months, greeted her. The worried frown on her face had been perpetually there when she'd first come to them. But it didn't show itself as often these days.

“She's going to be fine,” Lynn gave the rote answer. The only one she
could
give until Maria signed occupancy papers that would allow those within the walls of the shelter to share in her care. She might or might not opt to share her personal story with other residents. That was one of the choices she'd be making when she was able to make decisions about her immediate future. Right now, she just needed to rest and allow her body to heal.

Amy nodded, shoving some yarn and needles into a big cloth bag. “I'll be getting on home, then,” she said. “Kara had the apples you had assigned for her snack at seven-thirty, her bath at 7:45, went down at eight, fell asleep during the first story and hasn't made a peep since then. I've checked on her every half hour.”

Other than the half hour checks that weren't necessary because there was a monitor in Kara's room with receivers in the family room and both of the other bedrooms, Amy's recounting of events was exactly as had been designated by the schedule on the refrigerator.

“Thanks, Amy,” she said. “I've already alerted security that you need a ride back to your bungalow. Tammy's waiting outside for you.”

Tammy Swenson was one of the Stand's full-time, police-trained security personnel. There were four full-time officers on staff and another three, two of whom were male, worked part-time to relieve them. They mostly watched over the main house and the public buildings outside the locked campus, but at night, there was always one patrolling the private grounds.

She slid a twenty down into Amy's knitting bag. Amy had been a housewife her entire life. One who'd been beaten, on and off, for forty years because she'd had no means to leave the man who claimed to love her but forgot about those feelings any time he drank.

At sixty, with all of her kids out on their own, she couldn't take it anymore. But so far, the bastard had managed to tie up all their assets in court. And since Amy had no training, and was near retirement age, she wasn't having a lot of luck finding any kind of work to tide her over.

And residents who did volunteer work were not allowed to get paid. Which meant that Lynn couldn't pay her for watching Kara.

“You already paid me for the dress I knitted your little one,” Amy said.

“No, your work was exquisite and worth far more than you charged me.”

Amy shook her head.

“Tammy's waiting,” Lynn reminded the older woman, and saw her out the door.

She pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her scrubs, peeked in on Kara and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

Grant had called. She'd had her phone on vibrate all evening, but she always checked her calls in case there was an emergency with Kara. He'd left a voice mail.

She listened to it as she undressed.

He'd asked her to call. No matter how late she got in.

His voice didn't have that sexy undertone she'd grown to crave. But if it had been an emergency surely he'd have said so.

Pulling on her robe, she texted him first. And wasn't even in the shower yet when her phone signaled a return text. Followed by a second vibration indicating his incoming call.

“You're up late,” she said, picking up the call.

“I've been asleep for three hours. I just heard your text.” His voice sounded groggy. And...the sexy tone was back. She heard it all the way to her toes.

“You said to call no matter how late.”

“I wanted to speak with you before tomorrow.” He sounded sleepy, but not the least bit put out to be talking on the phone in the middle of the night.

“It's already tomorrow.”

“Are you just getting in?”

“Yeah. We had an emergency tonight.”

Seeing herself in the mirror—the tired eyes, no makeup, hair pulled back—she turned away from it.

“I called you just after Kara's bedtime.”

“I left here at six-thirty.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” She kept her voice low, just in case, although Kara slept through almost everything, and slid down to the floor, her back to the wall.

“Is everything okay?”

“I think it will be, physically, at least. In the meantime, I have a patient in the bungalow next door.”

“How old is she?”

“Thirty-four.”

“Was it her husband?”

“Yeah.”

“How long were they married?”

“A couple of years.”

“She got out early.”

“Yeah, but it was still almost too late.” Some abusers were stronger than others.

“Were there any kids?”

“Two from a previous marriage. She was widowed. The kids are with their paternal grandparents until tomorrow after school.”

“Will they stay there, then?”

“Possibly. So they can remain in school. Or they could come here if she decides to leave her husband and become a resident. It will be partially up to the woman. She wasn't in any state tonight to make those kinds of decisions.”

“I took it for granted she'd already decided to leave him.”

Lynn knew she had to get to bed, get in a few hours of sleep before she had to be back to check on Maria and continue with her day. But talking to Grant right then, rather than lying in the dark alone, seemed more peaceful than sleep.

“She ran away from him out of fear. That's an in-the-moment thing. It might last, it might not.”

“Can't the police step in?”

“Only if she decides to press charges.”

“They can prosecute if they have enough evidence, right? With or without her? You said you took her to the hospital. Aren't they under an obligation to report the abuse?”

She could hear the frustration in his voice. And wondered when she'd begun to accept the facts of domestic violence rather than being shocked by them.

“The police were called tonight. But unless Maria is willing to go to court and testify, they won't have a case against the guy so probably won't waste the money to file charges on a case they can't win. You'd be surprised how many women change their stories, say they were just upset or mad or jealous and lied about how they got hurt.”

“They actually return to their abusers.”

She thought everyone had known that. “Yes.”

“And you think tonight's woman might be one of them?”

“I hope not.” She couldn't let it get to her one way or the other. If she didn't keep professional boundaries she wouldn't be good for anyone.

“I called to ask a favor,” he said now, “but after the night you've had I don't think—”

“It's fine, Grant. Tonight wasn't all that unusual, I'm sorry to say. I'll grab some extra sleep tomorrow, rearrange some well checks if I have to. And there's always someone to keep an eye on Kara. What do you need?”

“I was hoping Darin and I could have dinner at your place tomorrow night.”

They were both approved to eat at the cafeteria. As paying guests, of course, just like any other staff member or visitor.

“Here at my house?”

“I know, I shouldn't have asked....”

“No! It's fine.” Grant wanted to sit at her table and have dinner with her. Like a family...

She shook her head, rubbing her neck. She was tired. What sounded good tonight couldn't be relied on in the cold light of day.

“Darin has talked about Maddie all day—specifically about when he could have his next date.”

“I had a feeling one wasn't going to be enough.”