Hidden Pleasures (8 page)

B
rittany stepped back from the dresser after placing the last of her unpacked items into the drawers. She glanced around the bedroom, still amazed at what she saw. She’d honestly never seen anything like it. Even the furniture was massive, as if specially made for a giant. On one side of the bed was a foot step to use when getting into the bed because it was so high off the floor.

She glanced up and saw the sky in all its brilliant blue. Galen had shown her the switch to use when she wanted a sliding shade to block the view, but she couldn’t imagine not wanting to lie in bed and stare up into the sky.

He had delivered her luggage to her and without saying anything—other than telling her about the switch
and indicating the top two drawers for her use—he’d left her to her own devices.

She figured he was having one of his quiet moments or he was one of those moody people who preferred being left alone when they had a lot on their minds. But because he was the one who insisted that she come live with him for a week, she assumed he wouldn’t mind the company. She headed downstairs.

She didn’t have to go far to find him. He was in the kitchen. At some point he had buttoned his shirt, but his jeans were still riding low on his hips and he was once again barefoot. He looked both sexy and domesticated standing at his kitchen sink.

“When can I go check out the house?” she asked.

It was easy to see from his expression that he hadn’t known she’d been standing there and he waited a moment before he replied. “I’m ready when you are, but I’d think you’d want this.”

He picked up a legal-size envelope from the table and handed to her. “It’s the papers you demanded yesterday.”

She took the envelope from him and pulled out the legal document and read it silently. Everything was as it should be. She placed it back inside the envelope and glanced over at him. He had returned to the sink. “Your brother is your attorney?”

“Among other things. Usually a pain in my rear, mostly. But I can say the same thing about the others, as well. Being the oldest isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.”

He glanced at his watch and said, “I guess now is as good a time as any to check out that house. We can stop somewhere on the way back and grab lunch.”

She smiled. “All right. I’ll just go upstairs and get my purse.”

Galen watched as she hurried toward the stairs. He knew why that house meant so much to her, but she didn’t know that he knew, and for some reason he wanted her to feel comfortable in telling him herself. He drew in a deep breath thinking he’d much prefer staying here and getting something going with her, but he knew the best thing to do was to get them out of the house for a while. Just the thought that she would be sleeping in his bed, whether he was in it with her or not, had his heart beating something crazy in his chest.

He’d been close to the breaking point when he returned with her luggage and found her standing there, still checking out his bed. There had been something about the overwhelming look in her eyes that touched him in a way he’d never been touched before.

And that wasn’t good.

“So tell me about your brothers, Galen.”

Galen briefly glanced across the seat of the car to meet her inquiring gaze. After she indicated that she preferred they take the rental car, he suggested that he drive. He’d promised himself never to let another female behind the wheel while he rode shotgun after an angry Jennifer Bailey had taken the Sky Harbor Expressway at over one hundred miles an hour—all because he refused
to make her his steady girl. He didn’t care that he’d been a senior in high school at the time. Some things you didn’t forget.

He tilted his Stetson back from his eyes. “Why do you want to know about them?”

“Because there seems to be so much unity among you, even though the six of you might disagree sometimes. I lived in a foster home while growing up and although there were a number of us, unity didn’t exist. It seemed everyone had their own separate agenda.”

“And what was yours?”

She hesitated a moment before answering. “Survival, mostly. And hoping the people who were my foster parents would want to keep me. I hated moving from place to place, making new friends, attending different schools. There was no stability.”

Anger flashed within Galen at the thought that she’d never grown up with real parents, siblings or a home to call her own. Now more than ever he was grateful he’d made the decision to turn her mother’s home over to her. Still, he wanted her to talk to him. Tell him why the house meant so much to her.

“Is that why you wanted that house so much?” he prompted. “Did you live there at one time as a foster child? Did you—”

“No,” Brittany said, interrupting his questions.

“That’s not the reason.”

She paused, then said, “I wanted the house because it was willed to me by someone I’ve never met. My birth mother. She gave me up for adoption when I was born.
Only thing is, I never got adopted. Most of the people who took me in did so for the extra income. I have to say I was treated decently the majority of the time, so I won’t complain.”

She paused for a moment before continuing. “Six months ago…in fact, it was the same day I saw you and returned from New York. When I got home, I discovered I’d gotten a letter from a woman informing me that she believed I was the daughter she’d given up for adoption twenty-eight years ago, and that I would be hearing from her again soon with arrangements for us to meet if I wanted to do so. There was no return address and that’s all the letter said. I anxiously waited, and last week I received a letter from an attorney letting me know that my mother had passed away and had left her house to me.”

She paused again. He’d come to a traffic light and glanced over at her. She was staring straight ahead. “It was only when I got here and met with her attorney that I found out about the back taxes on the house. Her taxes got delinquent because she used the money to hire a private investigator to find me. She had been diagnosed with cancer and was given five years to live. She found me, but we didn’t get the chance to meet face-to-face.”

She drew in a deep breath and glanced over and met his gaze. “So now you know the reason I want that house.”

Yes, he knew, Galen thought. He’d known all along. At least the part he’d overheard when he should not have been listening. He was silent for a long moment and
was grateful when the traffic light changed and the car moved forward. He needed to concentrate on his driving and not on the woman sitting beside him. She was doing strange things to his emotions and Galen wasn’t so sure he could stop them.

Brittany swallowed hard and her heart beat furiously in her chest when Galen brought the car to a stop in front of the house that used to be her mother’s home. She couldn’t move, so she just sat there and gazed at it through the windshield. The first thing she noted was that the windows were no longer boarded up.

She glanced over at him. Her brow furrowed. “You’ve been here already?”

“No. Once I got your call yesterday afternoon I contacted someone to come take the boards off the windows. This is my first time seeing it.”

She nodded. He’d said from the first that the only reason he’d bid on the house was because she’d wanted it. Galen Steele had proven that he definitely had an ulterior motive for owning this home now.

“Ready to go in?” he asked.

Her throat closed and she could barely get out her response. “Yes.”

By the time she had unbuckled her seat belt, he had already gotten out of the car and walked around to open the car door for her. She was discovering that Galen used good manners and could be the perfect gentleman when it suited him.

They didn’t say anything as they headed down the
walkway. The moment she stepped onto the porch she saw up close what she hadn’t seen from a distance. The house could use a paint job and the screen door needed to be repaired. She couldn’t help wondering if these repairs, too, had taken a backseat to hiring a private investigator to find her.

Brittany paused for a moment to take in the enormity of what she was feeling, the emotions deep within her that had risen to the surface. Would she find answers to all the questions she had? Would she ever know why she’d been given away? Who was her father? Had he even known about her? “You okay?”

She glanced up at Galen. She might have been mistaken, but was that concern in the depths of his green eyes? “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single key. “Here, the house is yours.”

She raised a haughty brow. Did he assume because she was here at the house today that she would be in his bed tonight? “Jumping the gun, aren’t you?”

He gave her an arrogant smile as he removed his Stetson. “No, I don’t think so. Come on, let’s go inside.”

For a moment Galen stood back and watched as Brittany entered what had been her mother’s home. He then followed her inside, closed the door behind them and glanced around. The interior looked a lot bigger than the exterior but everything inside, from the
Early American–style furniture to the heavily draped windows, had a sense of home.

His gaze moved over to Brittany. She was no longer standing in the middle of the floor but had moved over to a vintage-looking desk and was looking at a picture in the frame. Deciding not to stare, he glanced around again.

It was evident that although the outside showed signs of deterioration and neglect, the interior did not. Everything looked well cared-for and maintained, even the hardwood floors. It was clear that the person who lived here believed in being clean and neat. The place gave off a feeling that its owner had merely stepped out a minute and would be returning momentarily.

“Nice place,” he said to Brittany, mainly to get her talking again. She’d gone too quiet on him and continued to stare at that picture frame. Was it a picture of the woman who had been her mother?

When she didn’t acknowledge his remark, he knew she had effectively tuned him out, although not intentionally because her manners wouldn’t allow such a thing. Emotions had taken over her, and he wasn’t used to dealing with emotional women. Usually that was when he would cut and run like hell. But he wouldn’t be going anywhere today. He felt as if he had a vested interest in this woman, which really didn’t make much sense. All he wanted was to get her in his bed so she could soothe the ache in his pants. What he didn’t understand, and what he was trying like hell to figure out, was his insane fascination with her.

And at the moment he didn’t like her wandering around this place sinking deeper and deeper into a maudlin state of depression he refused to accept for her. He’d rather have her mad than sad. But right now he wanted her talking.

She glanced over at him and the look in her eyes was like a kick in the gut. It was as if he felt her pain. She hadn’t known the owner of the house, nor would she recognize her if they’d passed in the street. But none of that mattered. The woman who used to live here had been her mother. The woman who’d given birth to her.

The woman who, for some reason, had given her away.

He waited for her to say something. The look in her eyes said she was ready. He wasn’t Dr. Phil by any means, but he figured she needed to express her feelings, get them out in the open.

“I think I look like her,” she said, holding the picture out for him to see.

He moved away from the door, crossed the room and took the picture frame she offered. He studied the image of the woman standing beside a tall man. She looked younger than Galen had expected, which meant she’d had Brittany at an early age. Probably a teen pregnancy. “Yes, you do favor her,” he said honestly. “I wonder how old she was when she gave birth to you.”

“Sixteen. According to her attorney she died at forty-four.”

He nodded as he handed the picture frame back to her. “You want to check out the other rooms?”

“Sure.”

She walked slowly and he did likewise beside her. The kitchen was nice and the bay window provided a view of a lot of the land. It seemed to go on for miles. And the view of the mountains was just as impressive as the one from his place. No wonder those men at the auction mart wanted to demolish the house and build a hotel on the land.

He walked around the kitchen to the table. Just like the rest of the house, the table and chairs were Early American and fit perfectly in their setting.

Brittany then moved to the window and was looking out at the mountains and all the land. He decided to keep her talking.

“Do you know if she had any other relatives?”

She turned around. “According to her attorney, Mr. Banyon, she didn’t. She and her husband never had any children. I’m not even certain he knew about me.”

She moved away from the window and placed her hands on her hips and his gaze was immediately drawn to that area of her body. He liked how she looked in that skirt and figured he’d probably like her even better without it. Without a single stitch on her body. Okay, he would admit he was an ass, without a lick of manners. Here she was mourning the loss of her mother and his mind was in the bedroom.

“I guess we need to see the rest of the place,” she said, lacking enthusiasm and reclaiming his attention. When
she crossed the room to pass by him he got a whiff of her. Her scent had nearly driven him crazy on the drive over and it was playing havoc with his senses again.

There were two bathrooms, both of which he’d consider remodeling if the house was his. But it wasn’t. He recalled her reaction when he’d handed her the key and told her the house was hers. Of course he’d meant it because legally it was. But the look she’d given him told a different story. She’d no doubt figured he’d given it to her because of the terms of their agreement. She was so far from right it wasn’t funny.

“Thanks for having those boards removed, Galen. The view from every window is fabulous.”

The midday sun was pouring through the windows of every bedroom they passed and seemed to hit her at every angle. There was just something about a beautiful woman. Now they stood in the master bedroom. It was a little larger than the other bedrooms and it did have its own bath. Brittany was standing next to the bed. The king-size and oversize furniture seemed to take up most of the space, making it tight to walk around much. Just as well. It wouldn’t take much to tumble her onto that bed about now. It looked so inviting and she looked so damn enticing.