NYC Angels: Flirting with Danger (13 page)

B
RAD WENT TO
bed alone.

Chloe hadn’t set foot in the guest room in two weeks, other than to get her clothes for the next day, so she was torn as to what she should do.

He hadn’t said anything, but had come home looking drawn and sick. Before she could ask if he was all right, he’d disappeared into his room without a word and still hadn’t re-emerged.

At nine o’clock she’d finally sat down and eaten a plate of leftovers for dinner, straightening the kitchen afterwards. It was now decision time. He’d said at the beginning of their arrangement that he wanted her in his bed every night, even when they weren’t intimate. Did that still hold true? If not, wasn’t she letting herself be used?

She drew her knees to her chest on the couch, knowing the answer to that was no. She was the one who’d asked for help, who’d practically flung herself into his arms. If he was tired of her, she had no one else to blame but herself.

And he had apologized for the incident in Labor and Delivery. Had said he didn’t want her to worry. Things had seemed to be back to normal when she’d got in the elevator this afternoon.

So what had happened to change all that?

He hadn’t even stopped long enough to tell her about the twins. Luckily, Layla had kept her abreast of the news as the afternoon had worn on. They’d been born, a tiny twin and an even tinier twin. But they were fighting with all their might. The next several days would give a more accurate picture of their prognosis. But at least they’d survived their birth. Each day was one step closer to health.

The door down the hallway opened, and Brad came down in sweat shorts and a T-shirt, a black and white sports bag clutched in one hand.

“Where are you going?” The question was ludicrous, but what else could she say?

“To the gym.” He snatched the keys to his bike from the foyer table. “Don’t wait up.”

That was all very well and good, but it still didn’t answer her question. Did she go to his room or not?

Not.

In his current mood she didn’t think he’d be very happy to find her there on his return.

Fine. If he was okay with it, she would be too. She knew it was a lie, but maybe if she said it often enough, she’d eventually believe it.

Taking herself off to the bedroom, she shut the door a little louder than necessary, but what the hell. There was no one home to hear it. Still, it gave her a certain sense of satisfaction.

She pulled her clothes off and changed into a nightgown. She’d gotten used to sleeping in the buff, because Brad said he liked feeling her bare skin against his, but it seemed strange to sleep naked if it was just her.

Pulling back the beige striped bedspread, she crawled under the covers and grabbed the remote to the television.
She idly flipped through the channels, pausing at a nature show where the image of a lion taking down a gazelle flickered across the screen. The huge feline held its prey by the throat, cutting off its air supply and suffocating the poor creature.

Chloe gulped and switched the channel, trying not to see any similarities with her current situation. An old black and white western was the only other option, but it was better than lying in bed in the dark and brooding about what was wrong with Brad. If things didn’t change, though, she was moving out. The sooner the better.

Brad frowned. He’d heard voices when he’d first come through the door to the apartment and had assumed Chloe was on the phone. But the handset was in its holder. Maybe she was on her cell. He made his way back to his room, dumping the bag on the floor as he went through the door. His frown deepened. Chloe wasn’t there.

Was he surprised? He’d barely spoken a word to her when he’d come home, but he hadn’t been able to. If he had, she’d have started asking all kinds of questions. Questions he hadn’t been ready to answer. He’d had second thoughts about going to see his father and had decided to head to the gym and work off some of his frustration. He hadn’t wanted to touch Chloe in his current state of mind. But now that he was back, he wanted to pull her close and let her sweet scent lull him to sleep.

The voices continued until a scream followed by sobs came from the guest room.

Had Travis somehow gotten into the apartment?

He went to the door and tried the knob, only to find
it locked. That damn key! Why had he ever given it to her? Sweat began to form on his upper lip. “Chloe?”

No answer, but the sobbing continued unabated. The locks weren’t meant to keep intruders out—or wayward children in—just to keep someone from entering a room unannounced. He put a shoulder to the door and shoved hard. The lock gave way and the door burst open, just as he’d suspected it would.

A figure on the bed moved. Sat up. The crying continued, but it wasn’t coming from that direction. He pivoted and saw the television set. Still on. A woman on the screen being held at gunpoint.

“Brad? What’s wrong?”

The adrenalin still pumped through his system, his heart pounding from its effects. He dragged a shaky hand through his hair, trying to calm his chaotic thoughts as he turned back round. “I heard … I thought Travis had somehow gotten in.”

She reached on the nightstand for something. One click and the television went off, throwing the room into darkness. “Sorry. I must have fallen asleep with it on.”

He came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Is there a reason you’re in here rather than in there?” He nodded toward the hallway leading to his room.

“Well … you didn’t seem very happy when you came home. I thought it was better this way.”

“It’s not. Sorry for not making that clear.” He smoothed her hair off her cheeks. “I got some bad news today and wasn’t sure how to deal with it.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“Maybe tomorrow.” His arm went round her back and held her against him, needing the contact more than he should. “Come to bed with me.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I want you next to me.”

“Crawl in here with me, then.” Chloe pushed the covers down her legs.

Brad stood and stripped off his street clothes, glad he’d chosen to shower at the gym. But when he got in and slid his hands down her back, they were met with some kind of flocked fabric. “Do you have to wear this?” he whispered. “I want your skin under my hands.”

She sat up. “Help me, then.”

He helped her shed her nightclothes and then folded her close, pulling the bedding up around them. Chloe snuggled against him and a few seconds later kissed the base of his throat, her fingers coming up to touch his face.

Although he knew she’d found the moisture there—wasn’t sure exactly when his vision had blurred—she didn’t ask about it or try to talk. She just wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. He squeezed back, the roller-coaster of emotions he’d experienced during the day quieting before sliding to a halt.

Chloe had somehow made everything all right. And she’d done it without uttering a single word.

They didn’t need a second opinion. His father was dying.

He slid the last report back in its folder. “I don’t understand.”

His father reclined on the bed, and although he’d always had the body of a runner, wiry with ropy muscles, his cheeks were more angular than Brad had ever seen them. His skin was sallow, the yellow signifying liver involvement.

Brad’s mother wasn’t in the house: his father had sent her out to get something.

“I needed to talk to you alone. Tell you how … sorry I am. For the things that went on when you were younger. I didn’t stand up to your mother when I should have.” He paused and then cleared his throat. “I know if I don’t say it now, I might never get another chance. I’m proud of you, Brad. You’ve become a fine man.”

A fine man
. One who didn’t like locked doors and who couldn’t be in a relationship for longer than a couple of months.

Brad waited for the anger to rise up and swallow him, but it wasn’t there. All he felt was regret. “I appreciate you saying that.”

What else was there to say?

“You’ll be around for your mother after I’m gone? Despite everything that happened, I know she loves you.”

Was he serious? Brad was the last person his mother had ever wanted around. He swallowed, not sure how to answer. “She’ll be fine. She’s a strong woman.”

His father shook his head. “I know it seems that way, but we married right out of high school. She was pregnant with you at the time. She’s never been alone—really alone—in her entire life. She needs to know someone will be there once I’m gone, even if she won’t come out and say it herself.”

Why was his father telling him all this?

Because he was the fall-back plan.

Even as the thought went through his head, he dismissed it as ridiculous. But was it? His mother and his father had always presented a united front to the world—she was the brick and he was the mortar. His mother would be lost without him, despite her garden parties and all her social acquaintances.

She’d be as lost as he had been as a child.

“She’ll need you,” his father repeated.

Chloe came to mind. She’d needed him too. Things hadn’t worked out with Travis, and she’d come running to him. Had asked for his help when it came to flirting and the bedroom.

Had he been her fall-back plan as well?

Bile rose in his throat even as he swallowed in one hard movement, trying to make the ugly thoughts disappear.

“She doesn’t want me, Dad. She never has.” Brad wasn’t sure if he was talking about his mother or about Chloe. But maybe it was one and the same. And this was a hell of a time to realize he loved the woman who was currently sharing his bed.

Damn her. Damn his mother.

His father reached out and grasped his hand. “It might not seem like she wants you right now, but she will.”

“And you expect me to just …”

He couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
And you expect me to just drop everything … to forget how she treated me—how you treated me—as a child?
Because, despite his apology, his dad didn’t realize what a huge impact those things had had on him … All his dad knew was that they’d provided him with every material thing he could possibly want or need. And more. They’d given him everything.

Except love. And a childhood free of fear.

He’d had to go elsewhere to find that. And he had, in the Jenkins family. And most recently in Chloe Jenkins’s arms—Chloe, who had her own issues with fear.

His whole life was one big circle of irony, which now seemed to be closing in on him as surely as that
closet from long ago. His parents hadn’t wanted him. Until now.

And Chloe hadn’t wanted him either—had ignored him from the second she’d said “I do” to Travis.

Until now.

W
HEN WAS MAKING
love
not
making love?

When it was sex.

Chloe lay curled on her side in a tight ball, her breathing still heavy and uneven, while Brad stared at the ceiling. She’d been lying right beside him, still caught up in the afterglow, when her eyes had happened to meet his in the mirror and had been shocked by the cold emptiness she saw there.

She’d had to roll over to block out the sight.

She might love him, but he did not return the sentiment.

God, she was such a fool.

He’d shocked her tonight by coming through the door and grabbing her off the sofa. Pressing her against the nearest wall, he’d propped his elbows on either side of her head and stared down at her for a long time. Just as suddenly he’d lowered his head and kissed her. The second they’d touched, it had been as if a bomb had gone off. He’d devoured her, using his lips, his tongue … his teeth, his body telling her in no uncertain terms that he’d wanted her. Badly. Couldn’t wait to have her. She’d never seen him like that before.

She’d been thrilled. Ecstatic. Surely he felt the same way about her that she did about him.

There’d been none of the slow build-up that had always gone on between them. He’d shoved her scrubs and panties down and off and had lifted her onto his hips, burying himself inside her within seconds. Had carried her to bed like that. Still kissing. One hand under her butt, the other buried deep in her hair, holding her to him as he’d groaned into her mouth and surged inside her with each step.

Then she’d free-fallen onto the bed, with Brad still on top of her, still inside her. All around her.

She hadn’t known what had been going on in his head, but whatever it was she’d been right there with him. Had been ready for him the second he’d touched her. She’d scratched and bitten and moaned out her need, her hips rising to meet each thrust. She’d tasted blood, but didn’t know whose it was. His? Hers?

God!

She’d gone up in flames. Had held onto him as she’d come crashing back down to earth.

Until she’d realized he had no longer been holding her. Tension had radiated off him as he’d pulled out of her without a word, rolling onto his back. She’d frowned, glancing into the mirror above her.

And she’d seen it.

Lord, she’d almost told him she loved him, had gritted her teeth at the last second and let the words sing through her head instead. What a disaster that would have been, if she’d said them out loud.

He’d have laughed in her face.

Or worse.

She pulled in a careful breath as she lay there. Then another one, before she got up the courage to say the words. “Do you want me to leave?”

Chloe didn’t know exactly what she meant by the
question. Wasn’t sure if she was talking about his bedroom or about his life.

The silence was deafening. Her heart gave a few painful thumps. But when she braced herself to get up, his hand was on her hip, gripping tight. “No. Don’t go.”

“Are you sure?”

Brad rolled on his side and put his arm around her. “Yes.” He pulled her back against him. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

She swallowed, tears burning at the back of her eyes as she realized what was wrong with him. That’s why he’d looked that way. Why he’d been so stiff and unyielding. He thought their lovemaking had been too rough, that he’d hurt her like Travis had done.

“No. Couldn’t you tell?”

His arm tightened. “I wasn’t paying attention to anyone but …” a beat went by “… myself.”

She turned her head and kissed his upper arm, where his tattoo was. “I got a little carried away too. I think I might have bitten your lip.”

There was a pause as if he was testing out that admission. “I didn’t even feel it.”

Her cheek rubbed where her lips had kissed. “Didn’t you feel anything?”

“I felt everything. Except that.” His chest rose and fell in a sigh. “I don’t want to hurt you, Chloe.”

She stiffened. Was he still talking about the sex? “I already told you, you didn’t. I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

What was with the enigmatic questions? Just when she’d thought she had him figured out, he changed direction and confused her all over again.

She shifted in his arms, until she was facing him. She swept the hair off his forehead, like she’d done
in the park. That day seemed like ages ago. “What’s wrong, Brad?”

His throat moved. “My father has cancer.” Chloe stared at him. “My God. When did you find out?”

“A couple of days ago. I went to see him today.” And then he’d come home and taken her to bed. The desperation she’d sensed in him hadn’t been because of her at all but because of the devastating news he’d gotten. It also explained the emotional withdrawal she’d sensed in him over the last couple of days. “Is it serious?” He nodded. “Terminal.”

She grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry. It’s good that he wanted to see you, though.”

“He wants me to take care of my mother.” Chloe searched his eyes, but they were devoid of emotion. “Take care of her how?”

A quick shrug. “He wants me to be there for her.” Now she understood. His father wanted him to be there for a mother who’d never been there for Brad. Not really. Her heart ached. “Will you?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to give it some thought.” The coolness in his voice sent a chill over her, but she hadn’t walked where Brad had walked. Hadn’t been on the receiving end of abuse that drove you to despair, drove you to take chances you knew you shouldn’t. She thought about Travis. Well, maybe she had walked a mile or two in his shoes.

Maybe more than that. Hadn’t her experience with Travis caused her to look up an old friend and ask him to have sex with her? And then gone and stupidly fallen in love with him?

Oh, yeah. She’d taken some chances that she’d known she shouldn’t. And had taken them anyway.

She pushed the thought away. It wasn’t the same thing at all.

Wasn’t it?

Clearing her throat, she cast around for something to say. “How long does he have?”

“Three months. Maybe four.”

Sadness washed over her. She would probably be out of Brad’s apartment by that time. Would he even tell her what was happening with his father?

Maybe. The lovemaking they’d just shared said he might.

And as much as she wanted to close her eyes and ignore it, a little kernel of hope was lodged firmly in her heart. Like a blood clot that preceded a heart attack?

God, she hoped not.

Maybe there was the equivalent of a clot-busting drug she could take that would get rid of the thing once and for all.

Or maybe she could just ignore whatever it was and pray she had the symptoms all wrong. That what she’d thought was love was actually just a bad case of indigestion that would soon wash through her system, never to be seen again.

Yeah. Right.

Because lying in bed with him right now, she knew there was no place she’d rather be. Now, if she could only convince Brad to give them a chance …