For His Forever (3 page)

“I don’t believe that.”

“But I’m telling you, it’s not a problem for me. I enjoy making love to you.” He slid closer to her and grabbed her hand. “You can tell how much I enjoy having sex. We do it just as often, if not more, than we ever did.”

Nicole looked him in the eye. “You stopped spanking me. Why did you stop?

Tell me the truth.”

He blew air out of his nostrils in frustration. “Well I’m certainly not going to spank my pregnant wife. What if I hurt the baby somehow?”

“Hurt the baby? Are you kidding me, Red?”

Now he was angry. His cheeks flushed. “No, I’m not kidding. I’m not going to slap and tie up my seven months pregnant wife. I think that would be bizarre.”

Nicole’s eyes were wet. “I want you to want me just the way you always have.”

“And I do.” He squeezed her hand and she pulled away.

“I don’t think so.”

“Give me a chance to show you,” he said. “Let me love you, let me hold you.”

And he pulled her in close and kissed her lips and cheek. His hand cupped her breast over her t-shirt.

“I know you love me, I’m just being crazy.”

“You’re fine. You’re perfect.”

“I don’t want things to change between us, Red. Promise me they won’t change.”

He looked into her eyes. “I promise they won’t change.”

“Ever?”

“Ever,” he said.

***

Kallie’s alarm woke her at a just before six a.m. and it was painful to open her eyes. She turned off the alarm and moaned, looking at the novel sitting next to her in bed as if it was her sworn enemy. It lay there—inert, dog-eared, with maybe only seventy or a hundred pages left to read. She’d ended up staying up far later than she should have, completely engrossed in the story.

Even now, as exhausted as she was, Kallie had the thought of trying to squeeze in another fifteen minutes of reading time before she got up for the day.

But no, that would never do.

As it was, Kallie had just enough time to grab a quick shower, shave her legs and get dressed.

And then it was time to go in and wake Ben and Melanie, get them dressed and down for breakfast. Cereal was rarely good enough for the Danvers kids. Kallie was expected to make them eggs or pancakes or French toast, and oftentimes Trina left Kallie

“healthy” recipes to follow that used turkey bacon or “whole” ingredients so that the kids weren’t eating anything too sugary or fattening.

The one bright spot for Kallie was that this was the day where Trina would actually take Ben and Melanie to the country club and leave Kallie at home alone. It seemed as though Trina occasionally liked to take the kids to the club and show them off, so she could pretend that she was actually parenting them (which was why Kallie was conspicuously never invited to join them on these forays).

In any case, it was just fine with her. She would have time to catch up on the laundry, do a bit of light cleaning, and maybe even finish reading Blue Horizon before Trina and the kids returned early that afternoon.

Normally, Brad would have already left for work, since he tended to work long days as it was. Apparently the compromise was that he left around five in the morning and came back around five or six at night. He was still working twelve-hour days, but made it home early enough to keep up appearances.

Kallie had Ben and Melanie ready and eating breakfast, and then Trina came down before long to collect them for their weekly trek to the country club. Trina was very put together in her blouse, skirt heels, with glittering diamond earrings and a diamond bracelet to match.

“Help me get Melanie and Ben out the door, please, Kallie,” she said, without looking at her.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Danvers. You look lovely, by the way.”

Trina nodded but didn’t really respond to her compliment. Instead, she grabbed her purse and grabbed her phone, texting in the kitchen as Kallie washed the children’s sticky hands and hurried them to the front door.

At the last moment, Trina took them by the hand and turned to Kallie. Kallie thought for a split second that the woman was going to thank her for getting everyone up and ready. Instead, she merely said, “We really need a few loads of laundry done this morning. It’s getting messy in the laundry room and we’re running low on towels.”

“Absolutely, I’ll get to it right away.”

“I’ve heard that before,” she drawled in her rich Hampton’s accent, which made her sound simultaneously bored and frustrated with Kallie’s stupidity and incompetence.

And then Trina Danvers was gone and Kallie was closing the front door, thankful that she finally had a moment of peace and some time to herself.

Smiling as she thought about Blue Horizon and reading it out on the back deck with a cup of coffee, Kallie ran up to her room and grabbed the book. Then she went downstairs to the kitchen and made herself coffee and toast.

She figured to have anywhere from two to three hours before Trina arrived home, after which the older woman would certainly disappear and make sure that Kallie didn’t have another free minute until late that night, when the kids went to bed again.

Kallie walked outside, bringing a plate with the toast on it, and her coffee, and set everything on the glass patio table. She sat down and opened Blue Horizon, first glancing at Hunter Reardon’s picture and then going to the first page, which was just a one-line dedication.

I wrote this book because you said that it was the one thing you looked forward
to, and that was enough for me.

Kallie wondered whom it was meant for. Most inscriptions were written to someone in particular. Usually it was, “For my wife,” or “To Mom, because you always believed in me.” But this dedication was to someone secret, a person unnamed. Was it a woman, an ex-lover—a sibling, perhaps?

She didn’t know why she cared. Maybe it was because she was so gripped by the characters and the story, and it made her curious about the author. Well, that and his picture.

Eating her toast and sipping her coffee, Kallie finally picked up the book where she’d left off late last night. She was so entranced that she didn’t even notice the shadow falling across the patio table.

“What’cha reading?”

Kallie jumped, knocking her coffee over. She looked up and saw Brad Danvers standing in front of her wearing his bathrobe, his hair mussed as if he’d only just woken up.

“Oh my god, you totally scared me,” she breathed, putting a hand to her chest.

“Sorry about that,” he laughed. “I guess I move around too quietly sometimes.”

Flustered, Kallie grabbed her napkin and dabbed at the spill. “I didn’t realize anyone else was still here.”

“So you decided to goof off instead of working?”

Kallie glanced up at him, fearing he was angry with her. But Brad was just grinning good-naturedly at her.

“I was going to eat and then get right to the laundry,” she explained, still dabbing at the spill and wishing he’d just go away.

“Relax, I’m messing with you, Kallie,” Brad said, walking closer and putting a hand on her shoulder.

Her instinct was to flinch and move away from his touch, but she didn’t want to insult him. After all, Brad was just trying to be nice, even if his being nice was making her feel awkward and a little skeeved out.

“I should get to that laundry though,” she said, rising and grabbing her dishes as she went.

Brad picked up the book and glanced at it. “Shit, I remember this. I only saw the movie though. It was pretty awesome. When’s the sequel coming out?”

Kallie glanced back at him. A part of her actually felt violated—she loved that book so much, it was like her private escape away from this existence that she was stuck in with the Danvers family. And now Brad was intruding on her safe haven, touching and fondling her book and asking all kinds of questions she didn’t want to answer.

“I don’t know. I never saw the movie.” She forced a smile and walked into the kitchen, praying he would take the hint and leave her alone.

Instead he followed her into the kitchen, still holding
her
book. He was riffling through the pages as he stood just inside the doorway, leaning casually against the wall.

“I really need to read more. I used to love reading when I was in college.”

Kallie placed her dishes in the sink and threw her napkin into the trash. She turned and Brad was staring at her.

“Hey,” he said. “Maybe I could read this when you’re finished?”

She shrugged, inwardly recoiling at the thought. “Sure.”

“And then we could maybe discuss it after. Kind of like our own little private book club.” He flashed another grin.

Kallie sighed. “Anyway, I should probably get to that laundry now…”

“Yeah, of course, of course. Totally.” He nodded repetitively and put the book down on the kitchen table.

Kallie wanted to scream at him.
Leave me and my book alone, asshole
. But she knew that wouldn’t go over too well, so she kept her lips sealed, tried to smile enough that he wouldn’t sense her anger.

Kallie walked past him and down the hallway to the laundry room. The laundry room wasn’t very big, given how large most of the other rooms were in this house. It smelled of detergent and damp clothes.

Kallie entered the room, breathing a sigh of relief that she finally was able to get away from Brad. Up until recently, he’d been mostly removed from her day-to-day existence here, and she liked it that way. The times where he was around, he hadn’t been particularly friendly, and she found she liked him even less now that he was trying to be nicer. Brad’s version of nice was kind of creeping her out.

She’d already brought down a basket of dirty clothes and then there were clothes in the dryer that she needed to take out and fold.

As Kallie began filling the washing machine with the dirty stuff, she heard footsteps approaching just outside. Her stomach rolled and twisted.

Please just be passing by on your way to one of the other rooms. Please don’t
come in here.

And then, out of the corner of her eye, Kallie saw Brad’s shadow in the hall and then he came into full view. “I haven’t been in this room in a long time—I think since we bought the place!” he chuckled, making his way into the tiny room.

Kallie glanced up at him and smiled. “Yeah.” Then she went back to her work, trying to look even busier than she needed to, bending down to pull the clothes from the basket and tossing them inside the washer.

“I feel bad, you always having to do everything,” he said. “I know you’re well compensated, but still.” He stood there for a moment. “Let me help you with that.”

“I can do it,” she said. “It’s my job.”

“I know, I know. Just take a little help, will you?” Another chuckle as he came closer and stood over her.

She didn’t like this at all. She could feel his eyes on her and now she was aware of her clothing choice, and how when she bent over, there was a large gap of skin between her halter-top and her shorts. He was probably staring at her lower back right now—she didn’t want to look up and catch him doing it.

He seemed to notice the empty basket in front of the dryer. Suddenly, he reached and opened the dryer door. “Are these clean?” he asked.

“Yes.” She offered no further information.

“Cool. I’ll put this stuff in the basket, then.” He began pulling the clothes out.

Kallie and Brad started to work beside one another. Brad’s body was positioned closer to hers than it needed to be, and she noticed that he would sometimes twist in such a way that his elbow or arm would make slight contact with hers.

She moved a slight step to her left in order to gain space.

“Huh. Look at this.” Brad straightened.

Kallie looked and saw that he was holding a pair of her panties. They were black and a little sexier than she would have liked, given the circumstance.

She felt her face flush, but said nothing.

Brad was staring at her panties, holding them up to the light. “Victoria Secret?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely getting above a whisper. She was mortified and getting more and more uncomfortable by the second.

This was like a bad dream and she just wanted to wake up already.

Brad tossed the panties into the laundry basket. “Let me tell you, Kallie. Most women would kill to have a body like yours. Trina’s been trying to get in that kind of shape, but since she had children…” he shook his head sadly. “She tries though, you know?”

“I think she’s beautiful,” Kallie replied.

Brad nodded. “Oh, yeah. She tries and she’s pretty hot for her age and considering she’s pumped out a couple of tots recently.”

Pumped out a couple of tots?

What was wrong with him? She wondered. And then she happened to catch a whiff of his breath and she thought she smelled the distinct scent of alcohol.

He reached into the dryer and pulled out the rest of the clothes. He found yet another item that interested him—one of Kallie’s bathing suit bottoms. It was a yellow bikini bottom, and he held it up for inspection. “Man oh man, but I bet you get plenty of looks when you wear this to the beach. Am I right?”

“I don’t know.” She almost told him to stop, that he was making her uncomfortable—but she couldn’t bring herself to say that. Maybe he was just trying to be nice and complimentary and didn’t know how badly it was coming off.

“Kallie, you must have had tons of boyfriends in college. A girl like you, with a rocking body and beautiful face—tell me, did you date some football stud?”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t date much at all, actually.” She tried to smile—because she’d been trained to smile no matter what—and then started to move past him. “I should go upstairs and do a little more clean up.”

“What about the wet stuff? Aren’t you going to put it in the dryer? And those clothes need folding, too,” he said, pointing at the things he’d placed in the basket. Her yellow bikini bottom was lying at the top of the heap, accusingly, as if she’d done something wrong in including it with the rest of the family’s clothes. As if she’d invited his looks and remarks with her choice of outfits.