Mr. Wrong (A Homespun Romance) (19 page)

Katie’s eyes went to Brady and her heart stopped for a second.  He had showered and shaved.  The white slacks and yellow tee-shirt he was wearing made him look very desirable, very male.

“Hi!” he said and then stood quietly as emotion wrapped them both in ever widening concentric circles till it engulfed the whole apartment and neither of them could breathe.

“This is so nice,” said Katie, smiling nervously, looking at the table.

Brady turned back to the counter and when she saw what he held in his hands, Katie’s heart took off for the moon.

The small vase held flowers, not the cool elegance of roses but a wildflower mix, it’s delicate gaiety strumming chords deep within Katie.

“They’re beautiful,” Katie said softly, speculating that at this rate it wasn’t going to take her long to give a good imitation of the kind of woman she had been wishing she was earlier that day.

“They remind me of you,” said Brady quietly.

Sinking into one of the chairs she watched as Brady brought the stew to the table.

“That smells delicious.”

He didn’t say anything, barely smiled and sat down himself.

A hand raked her soft curls.  Katie felt the need to babble, “I’m feeling fine now.  Thank you for staying with me.  Did Nan come by?  I saw the pie on the table.  Did I tell you she makes the best pies in the county?  Her pies have won prizes at the County Fair.”

Brady had served them both and now he looked up at her.  “Mrs. Kettle said she’d stop by tomorrow,” was all he said before he began to eat.

Katie stared at her plate quietly following suit.  What was wrong?  Was Brady mad with her?  When he had looked at her just then he hadn’t met her eyes and he’d spoken tersely now as if the words were an effort.  Was he regretting his self-imposed nursemaiding duties?  Was he finally tiring of her?  Sick with fear Katie began to eat. 

Brady wondered how the stew could taste exactly like old shoe leather when it smelled so good.  He had asked Nan Kettle what Katie might like to have when she woke up and she had suggested a stew and told him how to make it. 

Coming back tonight hadn’t been such a good idea, but then he was driven as always by a force inside him to be with Katie.  Watching her as she’d slept and now when she’d come out of the bathroom, he knew he couldn’t go on like this much longer.  Be close to her and not touch her, talk to her and not give in to the desire to hold her, watch her and not go to bed with her.

Katie quietly retraced events from the time she had opened her door to Brady last night.  What had she said?  What had she done?  She wished he had left her alone as she’d asked. 

Something bothered her and she searched the avenues of her memory for it, till she found what it was. 

“You changed my clothes last night,” Katie accused.  She had found another tee shirt by her bed earlier and recognized it for the one she had dragged on yesterday evening before getting into bed. 

Brady’s head swiveled to look at her.

“Yes,” he said noncommittal, “you were drenched with sweat and very uncomfortable.”

Katie glared at him and he could see the anger in her eyes mixed with embarrassment. 

“You were as helpless as a babe last night Katie,” Brady said quietly, “and I’m no voyeur.  I just wanted to make you feel better.”

“Oh!”  Katie stared at her plate. 

If he said anything else she would have to find a stone to crawl under.  Why had he done it?  It couldn’t have been much fun sitting there all night rubbing her back, mopping her face, giving her drinks of water.  And then to go through it all again today. 

Katie had never sat beside anyone watching them while they slept and she doubted if she could do it a whole day either.  When her mother had been ill she hadn’t been able to spare the time from her double shift to sit with her.  Her mother wouldn’t have wanted it either. 

But Brady had sat with her for the last twenty four hours.  And cooked dinner.  And bought her flowers, a new tablecloth, crystal candlesticks and beautiful candles.

The candles!

“We didn’t light them,” said Katie regretfully.

“No,” said Brady shortly.

He didn’t need anything to help this gale force hurricane in his body along.

Katie picked up their plates and turned away to the sink.  Quietly she began to run the water.

“I’ll do the dishes,” said Brady.

“No,” her back told its own story.  His curtness had finally got through to her.  “You’ve done more than enough as it is.  Go home Brady.”

Brady carried a dish towards her.

“Katie..” he began.  Maybe if he explained things to her she would...

She took the dish out of his hands and slid it into the sink, “Just go home Brady.  I want to be alone.”

“The hell you do.”

Brady yanked her into his arms and his mouth came down on Katie’s.  It’s hungry demands increased as she stoked the fire in him with her own kisses, taking as much as giving, straining for more.

When they both came up for air, she leaned against him breathless, reveling in the thud of his heart beneath her ear.  But she only rested there a minute and then she raised her face again, sliding her arms around the solid column of his neck, reaching up for his mouth.

“Brady,” she whispered during their second recess, “I want you.”

“Oh Katie,” he crushed her to him and Katie felt a great weight lifting from her as if expressing the truth had released her from cast iron shackles.

“Brady,” she groaned against his mouth, restless with desire that swept through her like a brush fire.

Suddenly her upper arms were grasped and she was held at arm’s length.

“No Katie,” Brady said firmly.  “You’ve been ill and don’t know what you’re saying.  I have to leave now.  I’ll see you soon.”

Katie stared at the front door long after it had closed behind Brady, not quite believing he had left. 

One thought was uppermost in her mind.  There were men in this world who thought they knew everything.  The I-know- what’s-best-for both-of us variety.  Every single one of them ought to be taken out and shot at dawn.  Including Brady.

Katie stared about her satisfied.  The red tablecloth, now suitably shortened was on her table as were the candlesticks.  She had set the table with her usual care.  Crisp salads awaited them in the refrigerator.  The main course, marinated pork and red cabbage with its subtle flavoring of spices was perfect for an evening meal on a warm day.  Tonight Katie would light the silver gray candles.  Tonight she would ravish and be ravished.

She’d only seen Brady for half an hour in the middle of the week when he’d stopped by the school.  He’d suggested dinner but she’d refused.  Exams were upon her and she had to study.  Her illness had stolen two days, she couldn’t afford to lose any more.  Not the type who could memorize a page just by looking at it, Kate found sheer hard work and concentration her only recourse.

By Friday, she’d told Brady, everything would be over and would he like to have dinner with her then?  Neither of them had mentioned their last dinner together and he’d hesitated but accepted. 

“Tonight,” Katie told the candles, “tonight I’m not tired or ill or anything.  Tonight there are no excuses.”

She trembled, alternating between fear at what she was doing and a heady excitement such as she had never known before.  Kate had been buried.  Katie’s breath fluttered in her throat as it entered and left her lungs.  She had thought of him all week. 

At odd moments he had turned up to tease her.  His face had looked up at her from her psychology paper, winked at her from her textbooks.  His breath had stirred her hair while she took her exams and his arms held her in bed.  All week the fever that was Brady had mounted in her and Katie knew she couldn’t deny herself any longer.

Three raps on the door, Brady’s signature tune, heralded his arrival.  Katie squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. 

“This is it,” she told herself as her legs carried her automatically to the door. 

“Hi!”  She held on to the door for sheer support after she had opened it. 

The fresh soap smell of him mixed with a subtle cologne drifted to her, a drugging combination that increased the tremors of her body.  The litheness of his body in the blue summer slacks and open necked shirt issued
its own invitation.  The strong column of his neck demanded the salute of her lips.

“I missed you Katie.”  The words were almost her undoing. 

Why didn’t History show any record of women slugging men and carrying them off to have their wicked way with them?  Surely she wasn’t the first?

“Please, come in.”

Brady took the bottle of wine Katie handed him to open gratefully.  The chilled container felt good in his hands.  For a moment there he had thought he’d have to excuse himself, go into the bathroom and have another cold shower.

Katie looked beautiful tonight.  Her white dress clung to her in all the right places, draping the proud thrust of her breasts and the soft curve of her hips, as if it had been designed for her alone.  The soft whisper of the fabric, the crushed rose fragrance emanating from her, the sight of those gorgeous knees all combined to lower whatever resistance he had banked this last week and when the look in her eyes hinted she felt the same way he could barely manage to extract the cork from this damned bottle.

All through dinner their emotions escalated.  They were like two people engaging in some strange mating dance.  The candlelight lit their features mysteriously as they talked of everything except what was uppermost in both their minds, even while their eyes carried on their own intensely private conversation.  It was as if they were two other beings, not themselves, enmeshed in the web of their desire.

Brady had drawn his chair close to Katie’s when she had risen to serve a dessert neither of them touched.  Now, his hand closed over her fingers where they rested on the stem of the wine goblet and he lowered it to the table.

“Katie,” he said and she turned into his arms.

Their starving lips met as they slaked their hunger at each other’s mouth.

Then Brady stood, pulling Katie out of her chair, against the hard male warmth of him.  Katie couldn’t get close enough to him.  Standing on her toes she pressed herself against him.  Brady’s hands on her back moved continuously molding her to him and at her response his hands circled her waist then slowly caressed her ribcage.

For one heart stopping moment they stilled.  Katie whimpered a protest, then Brady’s hands were cupping her breasts and her heart threatened to burst out of its bonds.  He cupped them for a while as if savoring the feel of them in his hands.  It seemed like an age before his thumbs began to move in caressing circles, till he could feel the tormented, stiffened peaks through her dress.

“Katie,” he groaned, dragging his lips from her mouth and burying it in the curve of her fragrant neck.

She pressed his head to her, feeling she was going to burst into a million bits of golden glitter.  Suddenly their clothes were an unwanted impediment.  Katie felt for the buttons of Brady’s shirt.

“Katie,” he imprisoned her hands against him and looked at her, his eyes doing the asking.

“Yes, Brady,” she said answering his unspoken question, “yes please.”

He picked her up then and carried her to the bed. laying her on it to kneel beside her.  The tenderness in his eyes awed Katie.

“Are you sure Katie?”

“Yes, Brady.” 

Something in her green eyes must have satisfied him because he lowered his mouth to her as he began to undress her.

“Katie, I love you,” her dress had been pushed off her shoulders and he kissed each creamy one before he trailed his lips across the top edge of her slip, electrifying her.

Katie pressed his head to her body unwilling for his lips to stop what they were doing.

“I love you too Brady,” she whispered, all pretense finally abandoned.  "That’s why I must have this night to remember.”

Brady stiffened as if he had been shot and then his hands came up to loosen her arms and return them to her side.  He rocked back on his heels and looked at her as he bit out, “Run that by me again.”

Katie sat up on the bed putting her arms out to him, "I love you,” she repeated with a smile.

He held her arms and said, “After that,” he demanded hoarsely.  “What did you say after that?”

“I said I wanted to have this night to remember,” Katie repeated her lips trembling.  A shaking hand raked through her hair.  It sounded so different now.

“I see.”  He jerked himself up till he was looming above her, anger vibrating from him like sound from a drum.  “Might I ask what you mean?  No, let me guess.  Its time I took the rose colored glasses off.  You love me but you still can’t marry me because I don’t have any money.  So, you’ve decided to make love to me to have something to remember in that rich husband’s arms.  Am I right?”

He stared at her and Katie knew he could see the truth in her eyes.  Fear turned her blood to ice.  The man in front of her looked as if he would do her bodily harm.