Baby: MacAllister-Made Read online

  “Why? You’ve never tended to my door before.”

  “Things are different now,” he said, turning to look at her intently. “Very different.”

  Brenda frowned as she watched Richard cross in front of the vehicle.

  He wasn’t opening the door for her, she reminded herself. He was doing it for the baby. She just happened to be the one who was toting Flash around. And she had to be very careful to remember that.

  Inside her apartment Brenda went to change into her comforting pea-soup robe, while Richard busied himself in the kitchen making omelettes and toast, which was his only choice, due to the lack of supplies in her refrigerator and cupboards.

  They ate the meal in near silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Richard straightened the kitchen, then strode across the living room to the front door.

  “I’ll let you get to bed,” he said.

  “Oh, well, I feel much better now that I’ve eaten,” Brenda said. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

  “I have to unpack, sort my mail, the whole bit,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. ’Bye.”

  And with that Richard was gone, leaving Brenda standing in the middle of the living room staring at the door he’d closed behind him.

  “Well,” she said. “Okay. Fine. I guess.”

  She walked slowly in the direction of her bedroom, then halted when a triple knock thudded on the door. She hurried to answer the summons, flinging open the door. Richard moved past her in a rush.

  “Richard, what…” Brenda started.

  He turned and looked at her with wide eyes.

  “Ants,” he said, not quite meeting her gaze. “My apartment has been invaded by ants. The little beggars are everywhere. They must have been hiding when I first got home before we went to the hospital, but their convention has been called to order now, by golly. Big-time. I’ll have to sleep here…with you.”

  “What!” Brenda said, volume on high.

  “On the sofa,” he said quickly, then shivered. “Man, I can’t stay over there with those creepy-crawlies.”

  “Go buy a can of ant spray and zap them,” Brenda said, frowning. “You’re bigger than they are, Richard.”

  “There are too many of them, Bren. The situation calls for a professional exterminator. I’ll contact the landlord in the morning. For now I’ll just borrow a pillow and blanket from you and crash on your sofa. No problem. I’ll get the bed linens out of your cupboard, because I know where they are and you probably don’t remember. Just pretend I’m not here. Go to bed. Good night, Brenda.”

  Brenda opened her mouth, then snapped it closed again in the next instant when she realized she didn’t have a clue what to say.

  “Good night, Richard,” she said, then made a hasty exit from the living room.

  Richard watched Brenda go, and when she had disappeared from view he punched one fist in the air.

  Yes! he thought. He’d done it. What a brilliant plan this was, and he’d pulled it off. He and Brenda were now living under the same roof.

  The imaginary army of ants he’d invented was going to prove to be a hearty bunch, a new and strange species and immune to the usual chemicals that should be able to wipe them out.

  Now he was in a position to prove to Brenda that while, no, they weren’t romantically in love, they were still good together, that being best friends counted for a lot, would make it possible for them to marry and to raise their child in a real home with a mother and father.

  His plan was in motion.

  The battle had begun.

  He had every intention of winning, and he would.

  He just had to.

  Eight

  “Trivia time,” Brenda said to Richard.

  “Lay it on me,” Richard said, smiling.

  They were seated at Brenda’s kitchen table, consuming a delicious dinner that Richard had prepared while Brenda was at work at the travel agency. It was an old-fashioned meal of pot roast, mashed potatoes, gravy and cooked carrots. Brenda was enjoying every bite.

  “Okay, here goes,” Brenda said. “The national anthem of Greece has 158 verses, and there is no record of anyone ever memorizing all of them.”

  Richard laughed. “I know that, because I read the postcard you got from your folks today, and your mom had written it on the card. You don’t get any points for that one, Bren.”

  “You read my mail, Richard?” she said, stiffening in her chair.

  “No, not really,” he said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “There’s an unwritten law that says that postcards are public domain.”

  “There is no such law,” she said with a little sniff. “Mail is mail. It’s private.”

  “Wrong,” Richard said, shaking his head. “Ask the postman who delivers the stuff. He’ll tell you that postcards are open to public scrutiny. That fact is probably worth a few trivia points, now that I think about it, especially since you didn’t know it was true.”

  Brenda laughed. “You cheat.”

  “I do not,” he said indignantly.

  “Yes, you do,” she said, “but I’ll forgive you because you had this fantastic dinner waiting for me when I came home. It’s really yummy, Richard, and I appreciate it.” She paused. “So, what’s the word on your ants?”

  “Nothing. I left two messages for the landlord but he hasn’t returned my calls yet. I gave him my telephone number and yours, and both answering machines were on when I went to the grocery store, but… I’ll start over again tomorrow trying to track him down.”

  “Oh.”

  “You don’t mind my bunking on your sofa, do you, Bren?” Richard said. “I mean, if you’re uncomfortable with it, I can always go to a hotel or sack out at my folks’ place. My mom would be in seventh heaven if I was under her roof so she could tell me to get a haircut.”

  “No, no, I have no problem with your staying here,” Brenda said. Except for the fact that she’d had a terrible time getting to sleep last night due to the fact that she was just so aware that Richard was sleeping in the next room. “Hey, I’m not totally nuts. I came home to dinner on the table, my cupboards and refrigerator full of goodies and my apartment cleaned from top to bottom. You’re a handy roommate to have around.”

  He was going to stab himself in the heart with his fork, Richard thought dismally. Now he had the title of Brenda’s roommate? Cripe. No, he mustn’t get discouraged. He had just begun to fight.

  “I had some free time, that’s all,” he said. “What I did was no big deal. I enjoy cooking and—”

  “You can’t stand clutter,” Brenda said, smiling. “You picked up the mess in here because it was driving you crazy.”

  “Well, sort of. You know, Bren, if you would just put things back where they belong after you use them, you wouldn’t lose things all the time,” he said. “For example, you kicked off your shoes when you came home tonight. I can see one of them in the middle of the living room, but do you know where the other one is?”

  Brenda shifted in her chair to sweep her gaze over the living room.

  “Nope, can’t see it,” she said, then looked at Richard again. “It must be there somewhere.”

  “It’s under the sofa.”

  “It is? No kidding? Well, I would have found it eventually.”

  “Yes, but think about it,” Richard said, leaning slightly toward her. “If you had taken a few extra minutes to go into your bedroom and put those shoes in the closet, they’d be ready for you to wear the next time you wanted them. It’s very simple really.”

  “I’ll give that theory a try…one of these days,” Brenda said. “Oh, I don’t know, Richard. I run the travel agency like a well-oiled machine, but when I get home I just want to…to…”

  “Be a slob,” he said, laughing.

  “That’s not nice,” she said, unable to curb her own laughter. “I’m not sloppy at home, I’m…relaxed. There. That’s good.”

  “Mmm,” Richard said, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Project your kind of relaxation to w
hen the baby is here. You’ve got to have plenty of formula prepared, can’t run out of diapers in the middle of the night, have to keep the laundry up-to-date and on it goes.”

  Brenda frowned. “You’ve got a point there. Maybe I should start working on bringing my organizational skills home with me from the agency. I’ll do that…maybe…later, in a few months. No, you’re right. I should get my sloppy act together now. I’ll have enough to deal with once the baby arrives.”

  “There you go,” Richard said, beaming. “You’ll really like having an efficiently run home, Bren. I guarantee that you will.”

  “Well, don’t expect miracles,” she said. “I can’t change overnight, you know.”

  “But you can change if you put your mind to it,” Richard said, suddenly serious. “We all can. Change. Our actions and attitudes aren’t etched in stone. In order to grow as a person, we all need to be open to new ideas, be willing to adjust our outlooks and…and stuff.”

  “Oh, okay,” Brenda said, smiling. “I’ll get right on it. I’ll put my shoes in the closet every time I come home from work.”

  Richard frowned. “That’s a start… I guess.” He paused. “Would you like some cherry cobbler? I made it from scratch.”

  Brenda’s eyes widened. “I’m too full for dessert now, but you made cherry cobbler from scratch? Who taught you to do that?”

  “My dad,” he said. “While we were growing up, Jack, my dad and I cooked dinner two nights a week and my mom did the other days. After Kara came to live with us, she was on my mom’s team. Jack moaned and groaned his way through the cooking lessons, but I really enjoyed them.”

  “Amazing,” Brenda said. “Why didn’t I know about this before?”

  “It didn’t come up, I guess. Now it has because we’re living together.”

  “Could you phrase that a bit differently, Richard? We’re not living together we’re just…” Brenda frowned. “Give me a minute here.”

  “We’re living together,” Richard said decisively. “We eat, sleep, hang out, under the same roof. That, in my opinion, is living together.”

  “Yes, but when you use the term living together, it indicates that the two people are having…are engaging in— What I mean is…” Brenda lifted her chin. “We’re not sleeping together.”

  “That’s true,” Richard said thoughtfully. “Of course we could make love if we wanted to.” He shrugged. “Which we don’t.”

  “We don’t?” Brenda said, frowning.

  “Of course not,” Richard said, looking at Brenda intently. “The one night of lovemaking we shared was a fluke, the end result of a long list of circumstances that resulted in—” He cleared his throat. “The truth of the matter is, Brenda, it resulted in the most incredibly beautiful lovemaking I’ve ever shared with anyone in my entire life.”

  “Oh, I know,” Brenda said dreamily, staring into space. “You’ll get no argument from me on that one, Richard. It was so—” she blinked “—forget it.”

  “I can’t,” he said, covering one of her hands with his on the top of the table. “I’ve tried, believe me, but I just can’t erase the memories of our night together from my mind. Plus the fact that it resulted in little Flash, there, makes it even more difficult to dismiss. It definitely happened, Brenda, and it was…was very special.”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, it was.”

  The heat from Richard’s hand was rushing up her arm and across her breasts like a wild current. Oh, gracious, now it was traveling throughout her, settling low and hot in her body.

  Why, why, why was Richard having this kind of sensual impact on her? He was her best friend, not her lover. Well, he had been her lover for that one glorious night but… This was so unsettling and confusing. Enough was enough.

  Brenda pulled her hand from beneath Richard’s and got to her feet.

  “You cooked, I’ll clean the kitchen,” she said. “That’s only fair.”

  “No way,” Richard said. “You worked all day, Bren. All I did was stop by my office and turn in my expense records. You go put your feet up, and I’ll tend to this mess.”

  “You also shopped for groceries, cleaned the apartment and prepared a splendid meal.” Brenda shook her head. “No, I’m straightening up the kitchen.”

  Richard stood. “We’ll compromise, okay? We’ll do it together.”

  “Well, yes, all right,” she said, nodding. “It will get done twice as fast that way. Then I’m going to put on my pea-soup and watch Casablanca on television. Don’t think I’m wearing the pea-soup because I’m upset or don’t feel well. I wear it sometimes just because it’s comfy.”

  “You were wearing your pea-soup the night we—” Richard cleared his throat and picked up their plates from the table. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to see you in that awful robe again without remembering the— Never mind.”

  “Maybe I’d better not wear it while you’re…while we’re…”

  “Living together,” he said, taking the plates to the sink. “Lightning isn’t going to strike you if you say it, Brenda. We’re living together.”

  “Okay, fine,” Brenda said. “So we’re…we’re living together. But only until you evict the ants.”

  “The what?” Richard said. “Oh! Yes! The ants. Yes, indeed, they should at least help pay the rent if they’re going to live in my apartment.” He started loading the dishwasher.

  Brenda brought more dishes from the table and set them on the counter.

  “Don’t you think it’s strange that the ants invaded only your place?” she said. “I haven’t seen even one of those little guys over here.”

  “Who knows what goes on in the mind of an ant,” Richard said. “Hey, there’s a baseball game on the tube tonight that should be a great one to watch.”

  “But Casablanca is on,” Brenda said.

  “Bren, you’ve seen that movie at least twenty times,” Richard said as he placed the dinner leftovers in the refrigerator.

  “Twenty-two, but I never get tired of it,” she said. “It’s a classic, one of the most romantic films that was ever made.”

  “Mmm,” Richard said, as he wiped off the counter, then rinsed the dishcloth. He turned and looked at Brenda. “All done. Kitchen is clean.”

  “Oh, so it is,” she said. “I certainly didn’t do much to help.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Look, why don’t I go to my apartment and lug my television over here. I’ll watch the ball game with the sound off, and you can weep your way through your movie. How’s that?”

  Brenda smiled. “You’re a genius.”

  “No, I’m just a man who is attempting to get a handle on compromising when living with a woman.”

  “And you’re doing an admirable job of it,” Brenda said, then stood on tiptoe to kiss Richard on the cheek.

  He turned his head at that exact moment, and their lips brushed lightly as their eyes met. Time stopped. Hearts began to race in wild rhythms.

  They each took one step forward to close the distance between them, Brenda’s arms floating upward to encircle Richard’s neck, his arms wrapping around her.

  He captured her lips in a kiss that was searing, hungry, urgent, and Brenda returned it with total abandon, savoring the taste of Richard, the feel of his strong arms holding her fast, the heated sensations thrumming throughout her.

  His arousal was heavy against her, and she rejoiced in knowing he wanted her as she did him. They were in a hazy, sensual place that was weaving a web around them…tighter, hotter, refusing to release them from its grip.

  A groan rumbled in Richard’s chest. A whimper caught in Brenda’s throat.

  Brenda Henderson, her mind hammered. What on earth are you doing?

  She broke the kiss, drew a wobbly breath, then stepped backward, forcing Richard to release his hold on her.

  “That…” she said, then took another breath. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Why not?” Richard said, his voice gritty. “Why
not, Brenda? We want each other. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Nothing wrong?” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “My gosh, Richard, it’s as tacky as it gets. We’re talking about lust here. Sex. Not lovemaking between two people who love each other, just earthy, physically satisfying sex.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s more than that. We’re not strangers who just met in a singles’ bar and decided to go for it. We respect each other, know each other better than some people do in an entire lifetime. We love each other, too, in our own way. We’re best friends, Brenda, and that counts for something, it truly does.”

  “It’s not enough,” she said, her eyes filling with sudden tears.

  “Yes, it is,” he said, gripping her shoulders. “Can’t you see that, Bren? Being best friends is a solid foundation to base a marriage on. We can make it work if we put our minds to it, agree that’s what we want to do. We’ll be a family. You, me and our daughter. It’ll be good, Bren. It will.”

  “No, no, no,” she said, dashing tears from her cheeks. “I see myself sitting on the foot of our daughter’s bed when she’s a teenager and she’s day-dreaming about the man she’ll marry someday.

  “‘Tell me about when you and Daddy fell in love,’ she’ll say to me. ‘Tell me how romantic it was, Mom, how it felt, what your heart knew, then your mind. How did you really know, Mom, that Dad was your soul mate for eternity?’

  “What would I say to her, Richard?” A sob caught in Brenda’s throat. “‘Well, kiddo, it wasn’t quite like that. Your father and I are lusty best friends, that’s all. Soul mates? No. In love with each other? Nope, never got that far. We’re buddies, pals. We’re—”’

  “Stop it, Brenda, just stop,” Richard said, narrowing his eyes as he dropped his hands from her shoulders. “That’s enough.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said, wrapping her hands around her elbows. “Why are you willing to settle for less than what you’ve dreamed you’d have with a woman, Richard? You’ve been searching for your soul mate, hoping to find her, to have it all, just like the other MacAllisters do.

  “Just because we’ve created a child together doesn’t mean… Oh, Richard, don’t you see? We’re not in love with each other the way we should be to plan a life together as husband and wife.” She sniffled. “We’re just not…not in love.”