Read Beguiled Again: A Romantic Comedy Online
Authors: Patricia Burroughs
Beguiled Again: A Romantic Comedy (26 page)
She nodded forlornly. “That’s about the extent of it.”
“And I’ll probably growl a little and... learn to hide my socks.”
“And your underwear,” she added.
“My under—Oh, yeah. Brad.”
She nodded. “So you see—”
“I see that you don’t give me credit for having enough sense to make my own decisions. You’re trying to make them for me, which if I did for you, you’d wallop me.”
“I think that blow to the head has knocked you silly.”
“Cecil, stop making excuses and admit that you’re wrong, or I’ll drag you to the top of that tree and toss you out on your head and knock
you
silly.”
“Let’s drop the subject, okay?” She couldn’t stand there and listen to him talk this way. She couldn’t allow this niggling hope to flicker to life in her.
"Not until you agree to marry me.” He grasped her arm and tugged her down to meet his lips.
She should pull away. She could if she tried. But the ache inside her cried out for healing. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to lose herself in his eyes, those wonderful root-beer-colored eyes. Their lips brushed gently, testing, tasting. She didn’t want to hurt him. But then his fingers were twining in the hair at the back of her head, demanding more, and she gave herself up to him. Lord, he had a way of kissing her that melted her from her tingling scalp to her tingling toes. Thoroughly, the way he did everything. When his kiss ended, she rested her head on his chest, fighting the feelings he evoked in her.
What if it all boiled down to the fact that he was so blinded by their love that he wasn’t facing their problems? What if he woke up one day and wondered what the hell he was doing living in this madhouse? Tears slipped from beneath her closed eyelids.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered, wiping them away. “Don’t cry.”
She wanted to believe him.
She lay in his arms, trying to be practical, trying to be sensible, trying to be responsible. He made it so damned hard! Suddenly she froze, pulled away and stared at him in dawning shock.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You’re not fighting fair.” She clenched her hands in her lap.
“Why?”
“Because you act like you know what you’re doing. You act like you’re walking into this with your eyes wide open, and they aren’t. They can’t be. You’ll—you’ll end up hating me, and the kids, and—”
“Don’t you dare say that.”
“Jeff, tell me honestly, what would you do with a checkbook that never balances because I forget to make deposits, and forget to record checks and... well, what would you do?”
“I would find it so damned unbearable that I would probably refuse to touch the damned thing.”
“You see. It would never work.”
“If you think I’m going to put myself through that kind of a wringer every month, not to mention alienating Peter by usurping his job, you’ve got another think coming.”
“But you’ve been trying to get your hands on my checkbook ever since that first day!”
“I know what I said. I also know that Peter treats that checkbook like a game. He takes great pride in the fact that no matter what you do to it, he unscrambles it.”
“I know that, but I never figured you’d understand.”
“Cecil, I understand so much more than you think I do. In the first place, stop protecting me, if that’s what you think you’re doing. I’ve protected myself too damn well for too damned long. I need a little shaking up now and again.”
“And that’s what I’m good for? Shaking you up?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. “And what happens when things get too shaky around here? What about when—”
“You’re giving me a headache.” He sighed. “Cecil, go outside on the front porch and sit and swing and argue with yourself. I don’t have the energy for it. And when—” he yawned “—when you come to the amazing conclusion that you love me too much, need me too much to let me get away again, come wake me up and tell me.”
He rolled away from her as though that settled everything.
“You arrogant— And what if I don’t come to that amazing conclusion?”
“You will.” His voice was muffled, but unmistakably determined.
“You—you deserve—you deserve to have a house full of chaos, you’re so damned cocky! And—and—” She glared at his back, even as she felt giddy relief flowing through her. “And stop picking up after me! I refuse to live with someone who makes me feel like a slob!”
Slowly, the bed springs squeaking, he rolled back to face her. “Did I understand you correctly?”
“It’s too late to back out of it. If you’re so damned determined to drive yourself crazy, then the hell with it. I can’t protect you forever.” She flung her hair out of her eyes and raised her chin. “I can’t keep refusing what I want and need more than anything else in the world just to save your blasted sanity if you won’t cooperate.”
The door cracked open behind them but she didn’t care. “Yes, damn it. I’ll marry you.”
Anne-Elizabeth’s piercing squeal split the air and her sneakers thundered away against the hardwood floor. “Brad! Peter! We’re gonna mawwy the jerk!”
Jeff’s skin paled three shades as he clutched his head.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Maybe...maybe carpet would help,” he offered weakly.
Cecilia closed the door firmly, locked it and crossed to the bed. “You’ll be sorry,” she warned.
“Probably,” he agreed as she snuggled against him. He kissed her, and for a few enchanted moments, that was all she was aware of.
“I’m afraid to trust this,” he muttered into her neck when he finally came up for a breath.
“Trust... us?”
“No. Of course not.” He kissed her again, his hand trailing up and down her side as if wanting to caress, yet being restrained. “I’m waiting for a child to burst in and interrupt us.” He nipped her ear. Not hard, but enough for her to shudder. “For a soccer ball to fly by.” His hand finally found a convenient spot to rest; his thumb dragged a seductive arc over the fullness of her breast. “For a set of teeth to close over my thigh.”
His thigh being out of reach, Cecilia nuzzled his neck and with teeth and tongue explored the tightly corded muscles. His groan rumbled against her lips and a corresponding tremor trembled through her body. “I guess you’d better get used to it,” she said, sighing.
“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “I’m definitely developing a taste for chaos.”
A hesitant knock sounded at the door.
Cecilia straightened her blouse. “Come in,” she called.
“I thought it was locked,” Jeff said as the doorknob rattled.
“It’s an old lock. Brad can pick it,” she replied.
“We’re getting a deadbolt.”
“Whatever you say,” she said sweetly.
The door opened and three heads appeared in the doorway. Brad and Ann-Elizabeth were grinning; Peter looked worried. Cecilia’s stomach lurched. They should have been more cautious. They should have prepared Peter, not hit him with the news so bluntly.
Suddenly she remembered. “Peter, what were you doing with Jeff this afternoon?”
Peter avoided her eyes, only looked at Jeff for all the world as if he were pleading for something. The softest smile curled Jeff’s lips. “I think it had something to do with my intentions. And since you’ve agreed to make an honest man of me, I think they’re strictly honorable.”
Peter still stared at him. What was going on? He looked... scared.
“I have only one reservation,” Jeff went on. “That damned bird.”
“Oh, well,” Cecilia rushed in. “I’m sure we can find a good home for him if—”
“Over my dead body.” Jeff’s tones were flat and no-nonsense. “If there’s room for Ralph, there’s room for my bird. There’s room for everybody,” he said succinctly. He watched Peter intently. There was something going on there, something she didn’t understand. “Peter, would you keep him upstairs... in your room?”
Brad whooped with excitement, then hollered, “We got the bird!”
Peter blinked rapidly, nodding. “You bet.” If Cecilia hadn’t known better, she would have sworn his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears as his relieved smile took shape. “You bet,” he repeated.
“Then if everything’s settled, I think I’d better get some rest,” Jeff said softly, and for once in their lives, the children took the hint.
When they were alone again, Cecilia bent over Jeff and gently kissed his cheek. The events of the day had taken their toll. His gentle snore vibrated against her ear.
She smoothed the sheet snugly around him. Standing, she stared down at his red argyle socks, folded and tucked carefully into his shoes, at the dusty toe of her polka-dot tights, peeking from beneath the bed.
Oh, Lord.
They were doomed.
But blissfully so.
About Pooks
Award-winning screenwriter and novelist Patricia Burroughs (a.k.a. Pooks) loves dogs, books, movies, and football. A lifelong Anglophile, she treasures her frequent travels in the British Isles researching current science fiction/fantasy writing projects. She and her high school sweetheart husband are living happily ever after in their hometown of Dallas, Texas.
Other Digital Books by Patricia Burroughs
La Desperada
With her husband dead and his brother trying to kill her, Elizabeth Dougherty breaks into the jail and holds a cold-blooded murderer at gunpoint, promising to release him if he’ll agree to her terms. “Take me with you.”
But when Boone Coulter grudgingly agrees, he has no idea that her would-be killer is the sheriff — an enemy from his past who now wants them both dead.
Set in the Texas and New Mexico of Billy the Kid, their passionate tale of love and sacrifice becomes the stuff of legend…
The legend of “La Desperada.”
Originally titled
What Wild Ecstasy
[Kensington Books], this tale inspired the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences/Nicholl Award-winning screenplay, “Redemption.”
