The Secret Life of Bryan (9 page)

“No wonder. When I first walked in, I thought someone had killed you. Did you sleep with your head back like that all night?”

Given the way her body felt, she must have. She was in a straight-backed kitchen chair, her legs stretched out in front of her with her feet propped on the kitchen table, her arms hanging almost to the floor.

And her head…her poor head. She groaned in discomfort. She’d let her head drop back on her shoulders, with the top of the chair digging into her nape, and she’d fallen asleep. All night. “I’m dying.”

“Just sit still a minute and I’ll start coffee.”

Cautiously, slowly, she slumped forward, holding her head in her hands because she doubted her neck could support it properly.

Not only her head ached, but her back and shoulders, too. She was a lousy drinker. One glass of wine and she fell asleep. But last night, she and the ladies—each of them a delight—had finished off a bottle of booze. Cheap booze. Really
potent
booze.

True, she had drunk less than the others, only sipping hers while pretending to keep up, but apparently she’d drunk enough to think the chair would make an adequate bed. “Make the coffee strong, will you?”

“You got it.”

He was back in only a few minutes. Shay could hear the hiss and sputter of the coffee machine and already the delicious scent filled the air. Heaven.

“Sit still.”

Shay cocked a sluggish brow. Did she look particularly capable of movement? Even breathing hurt.

With a strange gentleness, Bryan’s big, rough hands moved her hair aside, laying it over her shoulders, smoothing it out of the way. Her heart did a little flipflop and awareness chased away the remaining cobwebs. She was now awake—very awake.

His callused fingertips touched her sensitive nape, slid around to the tops of her shoulders. His thumbs pressed in, moved, circled…

“Ohhhh,” she moaned as the tension and pain melted away. “That’s orgasmic.”

Bryan paused, made a sound that was part amusement, part chastisement, then continued. “You’re all knotted up.”

She hung her head, letting him do as he pleased. It was wonderful.

“Why were you sleeping in the chair, Shay?”

“Late night. The ladies and I were…” She bit her tongue. Booze was forbidden, or so they’d told her. “We stayed up late. Talking.”

“Uh-huh. Anything else?”

Did he already know about the alcohol? Oh hell, the cups! They were in the sink. She swiveled to look, but no, they’d been washed and set upside down in the drainer.

Could he smell the drink on her? How humiliating. First he’d thought her a hooker, and now he’d think her a wino.

“Shay?” He brought his hands up to frame her head, rubbing her temples, filling her with bliss.

“Hmmm?” If she couldn’t go back to sleep, she’d settle on having him touch her like this.

“What else did you do last night?”

“Makeup.”

“Makeup, huh?”

She started to nod, but couldn’t, not with the way he rubbed her head and neck. “Yeah. The ladies let me make them up. It was fun.”

His long fingers tunneled through her hair, massaging her scalp, turning her boneless. Turning her on.

“Why’d you want to do that?”

It was all she could do to keep from moaning. “To show them how.”

“How to what?”

Would he guess her intent if she told him? Her goals were altruistic, but if he figured out that much, he might start wondering who she really was and then he’d put two and two together, and he’d kick her to the curb.

She wasn’t ready to go. Choosing her words carefully, she explained, “I wanted to show them how to be a bit more subtle, and to look more attractive in the bargain.”

“And they let you?”

Shay heard his astonishment, and satisfaction settled over her. It hadn’t been easy at first, but she’d cajoled them and after Morganna agreed, the others had fallen in line. “Yep.” She looked at him upside down. “I told them the highest paid prostitutes don’t look like prostitutes.”

His fingers stilled a moment before resuming their gentle massage. “Like you?”

That made her chuckle. “Why, thank you. I’m glad you’ve finally decided I don’t look like a hooker.”

“It wasn’t exactly a compliment.”

“I know.” She couldn’t help but laugh. He was trying to snoop, to get her to admit to things. But even hungover and drugged by his magic fingers, she had better sense than to spill her guts.

He shook his head, and she saw him smile before he tilted her face back down. “So after you worked them over, they wanted a turn on you?”

“No, they just watched.”

Devilish satisfaction filled his tone when he said, “I don’t think so, Shay.”

Her brows puckered. “What do you mean?” She’d done their makeup, showing them how to apply it right, and they’d tried their best to get her drunk. Morganna had told some really raunchy jokes, with Patti egging her on. And Barb had grumbled at all of them. Amy had been the most reserved, but she’d seemed to enjoy her appearance after Shay finished.

Shay had to admit, they all looked very pretty when the heaviest makeup had been removed.

Bryan caught her elbow and lifted her from the seat, leading her toward the stainless steel toaster. “Why don’t you take a look while I pour your coffee?”

A little apprehensive, Shay hesitated, then bent and peeked at her reflection in the stainless steel.

Oh. My. God. Smudged, kohl-lined eyes blinked at her. A bright red mouth opened in surprise. She choked—and her back snapped straight again. She covered her face with her hands. She wasn’t a vain woman, but wow. Halloween had come early.

Grinning like a sinner, Bryan pulled her hands down and handed her a cup of sweetened coffee. “Drink. It’ll help to clear your head.”

She gulped down half a cup, aware of Bryan chuckling at her.

“They did you up real nice,” he teased. “I almost didn’t recognize you. You could stand on any street corner around and make a fortune.”

She groaned. “Shut up, please.” She handed the cup to Bryan, drew a deep breath for courage, and bent to look again. She had enough eyeliner for Bozo the clown. Her cheeks looked like someone had slapped her. Hard.

And her mouth. With the crimson lipstick, which had smeared during her sleep, her lips looked too full, her mouth too wide.

“Here you go.”

The coffee wasn’t helping, Shay decided, after swilling another cup. She peeked at Bryan, knew he was waiting for her reaction to her appearance, and decided a thorough scrubbing was the order of the day.

“Delicious coffee. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She leaned into the sink bowl, turned on the water and started splashing. Behind her, Bryan laughed out loud.

“Get me something,” she demanded, “a washcloth or a paper towel or whatever.”

“Given that paint job, you could probably use a mop.” He wasn’t gone long. “Here you go.”

Half of Shay’s hair was wet with the furious way she splashed. Blindly, she reached out, bumping Bryan’s abdomen and chest before finding and snatching the hand towel from him. She stuck it under the water and scrubbed hard.

“Easy,” Bryan told her. “You’re going to take off a layer of skin.”

“You’re a wicked, wicked man for not saying something sooner.”

He carefully gathered her hair together and held it back from her face. Shay could feel his warmth, smell his scent. “You couldn’t move, Shay, so what could you have done about it?”

“I could’ve just died and got it over with.”

“Now what a shame that would’ve been.”

Her splashing stopped. It seemed she wasn’t even breathing.

Damn it, he hadn’t meant to say that, to egg her on or encourage her in her infatuation. But watching her furious efforts to remove the war paint amused him.

Seeing her rounded backside jutting out turned him on.

And the damn dream had his emotions all churning, way too close to the surface.

Finding her safe, drunk, and the brunt of a joke had given him so much relief, he wanted to fold her in close to his chest and promise to protect her so he never had to worry again.

Idiotic.

She didn’t need his damn protection. Like cats, women had a knack for landing on their feet, no matter what. He should have learned that lesson by now. Not since his wife had he indulged his inflated noble streak by trying to protect a woman. And look where that had gotten him. Megan, who had been young and naive, had screwed him over in the worst possible way. If she could manage that type of deception, what was someone like Shay capable of?

So maybe she wasn’t a whore, but she still had deep secrets, and secrets were always a dangerous thing.

Very slowly, her face dripping, Shay straightened and turned to him. Her lips were open, her breathing harsh. Bryan knew he should resist temptation, but he couldn’t get his feet to move. In fact, the only things moving were his pounding heart, his laboring lungs, and his cock—which strained with interest.

They stared at each other.

The night’s debauchery had left her eyes bloodshot and some of the smeared makeup remained. The hair around her face was sodden. She
looked
hungover—and still he wanted her so much that he shook with it.

“I have to leave for a little while today.”

That brought him out of his sensual reverie and nudged his worry right back to the surface. “Leave where?”

Shay lifted one shoulder, and avoided his gaze by looking at his throat. “I just have a few things to do. I won’t be gone long.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What things, Shay?”

She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him that she wanted to check on Leigh, talk to her realtor, arrange to have new clothes dropped off, that she…had so many things she was dying to accomplish, things that would help him, the shelter, and the women. “It’s private.”

He caught her chin and tipped her face up to his. He looked darkly determined, riled. Shay licked her lips in nervousness—and his gaze dropped to her mouth.

Taking the hand towel from her, he used a wet corner to wipe around her lips. “You missed some,” he whispered.

“Oh.” Shay’s heart kicked hard, but not in fear. She just felt so alive, so excited.

“When are you leaving?”

She tried to think, but somehow, it was his thumb touching her lips, and not the towel. “I…I thought I’d go now, so I could be back before the others start waking.”

“Don’t want them asking questions either, huh?”

“I’d rather they didn’t.”

Bryan released her, letting his hands drop to his sides. “You’re coming back?”

He really didn’t trust her at all. “Yes.” Her smile felt shaky. “I promise.”

“All right.” He took a step away from her. “I have some stuff to do, too.”

Shay twisted the towel in her hands. “Like what?”

Her audacity had him lifting a brow. “I have to tell, but you don’t?”

The heat of a blush warmed her cheeks. “Unless it’s private.”

“It’s not.” Shay watched him go to the refrigerator and open the door. “Today is grocery day. I need to restock”—He slanted her a look—“minus the whiskey.”

Oops. Shay covered her mouth. So he
did
know. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re not the one who brought it here. Just try not to get so sloshed next time that you pass out in the chair. God only knows what they’ll do to you if it happens again.” He moved around the various jars of condiments, making note of what had to be bought and what didn’t. “I’ve got to check out a few prospective employers, too.”

“For who?”

“The ladies. If I can find them a better place to work, I’ll have better odds of keeping them off the street.”

“Great idea.” Her thoughts churned. She knew some people she could contact, some arms to twist. Thinking out loud, she said, “You need a place willing to train. Where there’s room for advancement. Someplace local, so they won’t have to travel too far….” She realized Bryan stood there, the refrigerator door still open while he stared at her. Another oops.

Without a word, he closed the fridge and went to the cabinet. “You know anyplace like that, Shay?” He shook a box of cereal, counted cans of vegetables.

“I might.” She did, but didn’t want to give him names. She’d rather contact the people herself, maybe have them get in touch with Bryan, keeping her involvement quiet.

Glancing at her watch, she said, “Well, I should be going.”

“How do you plan to get wherever you’re headed?”

“Bus.”

“Why don’t I drive you?” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back on the counter. Today he wore a black T-shirt that hugged his muscular chest and showed off really impressive biceps.

How in the world did a preacher get built like a bouncer? Shay sighed. His jeans fit him like a dream, worn thin in all the right places.

When she looked back to his face, his eyes were narrowed in that special way of his that showed both impatience and awesome attention to detail. She had no doubt he knew her thoughts, but he wouldn’t acknowledge them.

“I have a station wagon. We use it to get the women to the clinic and back. Nothing fancy, but it’s reliable.”

Riding with him would give them more private time to talk, but then he’d know where she went, and she couldn’t have that. Feeling real regret, she denied the offer. “Sorry, no. The bus is better for me. You can get your errands done, I’ll take care of mine, and…maybe we can visit again later?” She hoped so. She really wanted to spend more time with him.

Her evasions displeased him, she could tell. He pushed away from the counter. “Maybe.” Then he went right past her. A few seconds later, she heard the front door close.

Shay missed him already.

She shook herself out of her melancholy. If she hoped to accomplish everything in the short time she’d have here, she couldn’t waste a single second on moping.

Using the downstairs bathroom, she found a bar of soap and removed the remainder of makeup, then combed her hair and put it into a ponytail. A supply of new toothbrushes was in the linen closet, along with a variety of other things women might need. She pulled out lotion. It wasn’t the expensive brand she normally used, but for today, it’d have to do.