Hidden Pleasures Page 13
He leaned back in his chair. “So there you have it, the Phoenix Steeles.”
She smiled and lifted a brow. “There’s more?”
He chuckled. “Yes, mostly living in North Carolina. Have you ever heard of the Steele Manufacturing Company?”
“Yes.”
“That’s those Steeles.”
“You’re close to them, as well?”
“Of course, they’re family.”
“Of course.”
He looked down into his coffee cup as he recalled that Brittany did not have a family, and he remembered what she’d said about never feeling a part of any of her foster families. He wished he could have changed that for her.
“So tell me about Galen Steele.”
He glanced up thinking he’d rather not. But he would, because talking was a lot safer—he wouldn’t be tempted to take her upstairs and communicate in a different way.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything.”
He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that. Either could get the both of them in trouble. “I like sex.” He thought the blush on her face was cute. Just as cute as the quivering of her lips when she got angry.
“I know that already. What else do you like?” she asked.
“You. I like you,” he said honestly, even though he knew such an admission would rattle her.
He watched her bite her lip. “Yes, I think you’ve said that already, too,” she said. “What else do you like besides sex and me?”
“I like auto racing. The Steele Manufacturing Company sponsors a car for NASCAR, so I travel to the races quite a bit.”
She nodded. “When our paths crossed in New York, you were there for a wedding, right?”
He chuckled. She’d made it seem like it had been a casual meeting when it had been anything but. He’d swiped her cab. “Yes, my cousin Donovan. There wasn’t supposed to be a wedding.”
She lifted a brow. “There wasn’t?”
“No, because Donovan wasn’t ever supposed to marry. He was supposed to be a bachelor for life.”
“Is that what he’d said?”
“Yes. Always.”
Galen stared back into his cup of coffee, which was almost empty. Donovan used to say it and was quite serious about it, but a woman had come along and changed his mind. Galen was certain that he would never let that happen to him, and to this day he didn’t understand how it happened to Donovan. His cousin had had everything going for him. Any woman he wanted. And then Natalie came along and whammo, he’d fallen in love and the next thing everyone knew, he was talking marriage.
Deciding they’d sat at the table and chitchatted long enough, he stood to clear his plate. “You sure you don’t need me to help do anything over at your place?”
“Yes, I’m positive. Today I plan to go through her things and see what I need to pack up and what I want to keep.”
“You don’t have to do everything in one day, you know.”
“Yes, I know. But I want to get it done.”
“Well, call me if you change your mind and need my help,” he said, taking his plate and cup to the sink.
“You have your own work to do.”
Galen was about to say that he didn’t care how much work he had to do; if she needed him, he wanted her to call. She came first. But he quickly clamped his mouth shut, wondering why on earth he’d think something like that. No woman came before his work…except his mother and most of the time that couldn’t be helped. His father had basically spoiled Eden. She’d been the only female in a houseful of males and she’d been treated like a queen. Unfortunately, she hadn’t pulled off her crown yet.
“Just call me if you decide you need me. And don’t wash the dishes. Just put everything in the sink. You cooked breakfast, so I’ll clean up on my next break.”
Growing frustrated over what seemed to be his mounting fascination with her—memories of their night together weren’t helping matters—he said, “I’ll see you later.” And then he left the kitchen.
Chapter 15
Brittany moved around her mother’s home. In a way she was glad Galen hadn’t come with her this time. She needed space from him to think. For some reason he’d appeared guarded this morning. Although he’d kissed her when he’d sat her up on the counter, from then on he seemed cool. Not cold but cool. She hoped he wasn’t thinking she wanted something beyond this week because she didn’t. All she wanted was full ownership of this house, fair and square, and then she would decide what she would do with it.
She moved toward her mother’s room and pulled out several drawers. There were more pictures of Gloria McIntyre and a man Brittany could only assume was her mother’s husband. They seemed like a close pair.
Brittany had decided if she didn’t find anything to give her a clue as to why her mother had decided to look for her all these years, then she would go talk to the private investigator she’d hired. Maybe the man could shed light on a few things.
She pulled out another drawer, thinking like the others she would find more pictures, and was surprised to find a journal. Her heart rate increased as she pulled out the journal and closed the drawer. It was thick and she could tell it contained many entries.
Moving quickly to her mother’s bed, Brittany kicked off her shoes before lying down on the bed. One of the first things she’d done when she arrived this morning was strip the bed and put on fresh linen. The washer and dryer were going and she intended to have the sheets back in the linen closet before she left. It was still early yet, not quite four o’clock. More than likely Galen was working and hadn’t noticed the time.
The first entry she came to was written eighteen years ago on January tenth. Brittany’s tenth birthday.
I tried to bring up the subject of the baby I gave away, my beautiful little girl, but Walter doesn’t want to talk about it. He’d said he could handle it when I first told him about her last year, but now I’m not sure I did the right thing.
Brittany quickly sat up. Her mother had told her husband about her? Quickly she scanned ahead to another entry, recorded on her thirteenth birthday.
Today my daughter becomes a teenager. I hope the family that adopted her loves her as much as I do. It was so hard for me to give her up, but I wasn’t given a choice. I couldn’t abort her like Mom and Dad wanted. Especially after Britton drowned. She was to be our baby. Britton and I had so many plans, and when he died he left me all alone.
Brittany’s heart jumped. Her father’s name had been Britton and he’d drowned. A knot formed in her throat when she kept reading.
I cried for days and Mom and Dad refused to speak to me for months, but I wouldn’t back down about the abortion. They finally sent me away to Phoenix to live with Uncle Milton and Aunt Pauline. I agreed to give my baby up for adoption since everyone said she would go to a couple who wanted a baby but couldn’t have one. They would love and cherish my baby like I would have done. When I met with the people at the adoption agency a month before my due date, I thought they were nice, and they said I could even name the baby. I decided to name him Britton if he was a boy and Brittany if she was a girl. She was a girl so I named her Brittany. I got to hold her for only a little while and I thought she looked like Britton. She was a beautiful little girl with a head full of curly black hair. I noticed two of her fingers were crooked and her feet were turned in but the nurse said they would eventually straighten out. Happy Birthday, Brittany, wherever you are. I hope you’re happy.
Brittany wiped a tear from her eye. She hadn’t been happy. While her mother assumed she was somewhere being loved and cherished by some nice couple on her thirteenth birthday, it had been just weeks after that when Mr. Ponder had tried to molest her. And those fingers never changed, and as a child she had to wear heavy metal braces that fit into her shoes until her bones straightened out. Both birth defects made her a flawed baby nobody wanted to adopt.
Brittany looked down at her hand. All her fingers were straight
now because one of the first things she’d done after making a profit at Etiquette Matters was to have surgery on her fingers.
She drew in a deep breath and continued reading. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. The entries came to an end and Brittany was so full of her mother’s love that she couldn’t stop the tears that poured from her eyes. All those years when she thought nobody loved her, nobody cared, here in this house located thousands of miles from where she lived in Florida, Gloria McIntyre had loved her. She had made an entry in memory of her on every birthday she’d had.
Brittany couldn’t do anything but drop back down on the bed and cry her eyes out. She understood why her mother had given her up thinking she would get a better life, but still…
“Brittany? What’s wrong?”
Brittany snatched her head up and through the tears she saw Galen. Where had he come from? She pulled herself up and by then he was there, pulling her into his arms, and she went willingly, circling her arms around his neck.
“What is it, Brittany?” he asked, his voice soft and filled with concern as he sat down on the edge of the bed with her in his arms.
And then the words came pouring out and she knew to him they probably made no sense and ran all together. “My mother loved me. My father’s name was Britton and he drowned when he was eighteen, leaving my sixteen-year-old mother pregnant with me. My grandparents wanted her to get an abortion but she wouldn’t, so they sent her here to live with her uncle and aunt. The people at the adoption agency let her name me after my father, and promised to give me to a nice couple who would love and cherish me. But nobody wanted me because two of my fingers were crooked and I had to wear those metal leg braces until my bones straightened out. And then when she thought I was doing fine on my thirteenth birthday, that was the year Mr. Ponder tried to molest me, which is why I’ve never liked sex. And I paid a plastic surgeon to fix my fingers. She wanted to find me but had to wait until her husband died and then she died before I could meet her.”
There, she’d said it all and then she cried even more. And Galen just held her.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way, Galen thought as he stared into space while holding the woman in his arms. She wasn’t supposed to wiggle her way into his heart so easily. Now he fully understood what had happened to Donovan.
He glanced down at Brittany. The sound of her crying tore at his heart. But he was letting her get it all out—all the pain, heartache, heartbreak, loneliness, the feeling of belonging to no one. And as she cried he gently rubbed her back, held her in his arms and whispered over and over again that everything would be okay.
He doubted when it was over she would remember even half the stuff she’d told him just now, but he would never forget it. She thought she’d never liked sex? A part of him inwardly smiled knowing she’d certainly enjoyed it last night. Was that what last night had been about? Testing the waters to see if perhaps, considering all the sexual chemistry between them, she could possibly enjoy it with him?
And what was all that about her fingers and legs? Was that why she hadn’t gotten adopted as a baby? Most people wanted newborns instead of an older child, and for her not to have gotten adopted meant that someone thought something was wrong with her. So, she’d had a couple of crooked fingers and weak legs, big damn deal. Was that a good reason not to take a baby into your home and love it? And he would love to be in the same room as this Ponder guy about now. He’d put both his feet up the man’s rear end.
Pulling in a deep breath, he continued to rock her and kept whispering that everything would be okay.
Earlier that afternoon he’d begun getting concerned when she hadn’t returned, and when she hadn’t answered her cell phone, concern turned to worry. A first for him over a woman.
All he could think was that she was alone in a house on a secluded road. He’d driven like a maniac to get here. And now that he was here with her, there was no need to question why his heart was filled with so much love for her. Damn.
And with that realization he could only shake his head. No need to ask how it happened, where it happened or when it happened. Those logistics really didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he had fallen hopelessly in love with Brittany Thrasher. Especially when it had been just yesterday he’d assured himself his fascination with her was bound to wear off. Today he realized he had no intentions of letting her go. Ever.
When she finally pulled her face from his chest and tried wiping away any traces of tears, he asked softly, “Where’s your cell phone, sweetheart? I tried calling you a hundred times.”
She didn’t look up at him, pretending interest in the buttons of his shirt. She was probably trying to recall just how much she’d told him. No doubt she figured she’d given him too much information.
“It’s in my purse on top of the washing machine. I guess I didn’t hear it ring.”
“Okay, we’ll grab it on our way out.” He then swept her into his arms. At her gasp of surprise he looked down at her and said, “And before you ask, I’m taking you home.”
She really didn’t have a clue just how much he meant it.
“You are mine,” a raspy voice whispered as Brittany felt her clothes being removed from her body. She couldn’t stay awake. She felt so sleepy.
She recalled Galen bringing her back here and leaving her car at her mother’s place. The drive over here was a blur, but she did remember him carrying her into the house and then up the stairs to his bedroom.
She had the faintest memory of him giving her a glass of wine to drink, but only because the sweet taste of fermented grape was still on her tongue. And now Galen was whispering to her, letting her know he was removing her clothes and getting her ready for bed. That only made her want to cry even more because no one had ever really taken care of her. But tonight he was.
“Hold up your arms, Brittany, so I can slip the T-shirt on you.”
Like a child, she did what she was told, because all she wanted to do was sleep. And she shivered when she felt the cotton material sliding over her head and past her shoulders to hardly cover her thighs.
Through barely opened eyes, she watched as he tossed the covers back and then, reaching his hand out to her, she took it and slid beneath the covers. When he tucked her in, a tear fell from her eye. No one had ever tucked her into bed before.
“You’re going to read me a story?” she asked, trying to tease but barely getting the words out. She had a feeling she’d taken too many sips of wine.
“Do you want me to?” he asked, and she felt his callused fingertips brush across her cheek. So gentle.
“Yes, but nothing sad.”
She felt the bed dip and knew he’d slid in bed beside her, fully clothed, to gather her into his arms. She inhaled his scent and took comfort in his nearness.
“This story has a happy ending,” he whispered close to her ear.
“All right.”
“There once was a man name Drew, who had so many women he didn’t know what to do. And he thought he was happy until one day he saw this girl named Eden, and figured he would make her another one of his women. But he soon realized Eden was special. She couldn’t be like his other women. Because this girl had done something the others couldn’t do. She had captured his heart. And then he and Eden got married and lived happily ever after.”
She snuggled closer to him and his warmth. “Hmm, nice.” And then she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 16
Brittany opened her eyes and stared up at the gray clouds in the sky. It was supposed to rain today, wasn’t it? She closed her eyes, not sure what day it was. Sunday, she believed.
Parts of yesterday floated through her memory. She remembered going to her house and washing the bed linens and then finding her mother’s journal.
She opened her eyes. The journal. She recalled reading the journal and the parts that had made her cry. And she remembered Galen showing up and holding her while she cried and bringing her back here.
 
; Brittany threw back the covers and glanced down at herself. She was wearing one of his T-shirts. The details of last night were sketchy, but she did recall him undressing her and tucking her into bed. He’d even told her some story, although she couldn’t exactly remember it. Hopefully, it would all come back later.
She eased out of bed and stretched. She needed to shower, put on some clothes and go apologize to Galen for her actions yesterday. It was not good manners for a woman to get all emotional on a man.
As she headed toward the bathroom, she promised herself that she would make it up to him.
“So, Galen, where’s your houseguest?”
Galen stared across the table at Jonas. This brother had asked the very question the other four were wondering but hadn’t the nerve to inquire about. Galen was no fool. He’d known the moment he had opened the door to them that they had visited for a reason. He couldn’t recall the last time they’d dropped by bringing him breakfast.
“Brittany’s upstairs,” he said as he continued eating.
“Nice name,” Gannon interjected.
Galen nodded. “She’s a nice girl.”
“Classify nice.”
That had come from Tyson. Eli, he noticed, wasn’t saying anything. He was just looking, listening and eating. “She’s not anyone I’d typically mess around with.”
“Then why are you?” Mercury asked.
Galen smiled. “Because I like her.” He thought about what he’d just said and decided these five men deserved his honesty, even though what he was about to say would stun them. “In fact, I’m in love with her.”