Bed of Roses (Bride Quartet #2)(74)

LATER, LAUREL SAT ON THE GRANTS' FRONT PORCH STEPS, elbows braced behind her, eyes half closed. The quiet rolled over her, as did the smell of the grass, the front garden. The spring stars showered down.

She heard the footsteps, kept her eyes closed. And hoped whatever guest was leaving would keep moving, and let her keep her solitude.

"Are you all right?"

No such luck, she thought, and opened her eyes to look at Del. "Yeah. I'm just sitting here."

"So I see."

He sat beside her.

"I said my bye-byes. Parker's still inside-or outside-doing the Parker check to make sure nothing else has to be done. I had too much tequila to care if something else has to be done."

He gave her a closer study. "I'll drive you home."

"I gave my keys to Parker. She's driving both of us home. No rescue required, sir."



       
         
       
        

"Okay. So I heard the Robins made a comeback earlier. Sorry I missed it."

"They ruled, as ever. I guess you were otherwise occupied." She looked behind her, side to side, movements exaggerated. "Alone, Delaney? With all these pickings today? Can't believe the Robins scored and you're not gonna."

"I didn't come to score."

She made a pffft sound and gave him a shove.

His lips quirked into a reluctant smile. "Honey, you're toasted."

"Yes, I am. I'm gonna be so pissed off at me tomorrow, but right now? Feels good. Can't remember the last time I had too much tequila, or too much anything. Coulda scored."

"Sorry?"

"And I don't mean soccer." Cracking herself up, she shoved him again. "Very cute guy named . . . something made the play. But I'm in a sexual morit . . . morat . . . Wait. Sexual mor-a-tori-um," she said, enunciating each syllable.

Still smiling, he tucked her sunny swing of hair behind her ear. "Are you?"

"Yes, I am. I am toasted and I am in the thing I just said and don't want to have to say again." She shook back the hair he'd just smoothed, gave him a tipsy smile. "Not planning on making a play, are you?"

His smile dropped away. "No."

She pffft'd again, leaned back, then flicked her hand several times in dismissal. "Move along."

"I'll just sit here until Parker comes out."

"Mr. Brown, Delaney Brown, do you ever get tired of saving people?"

"I'm not saving you. I'm just sitting here."

Yeah, she thought, just sitting. On a beautiful spring night, under a shower of stars, with the scent of the first roses sweetening the air.





EMMA PARKED HER CAR BEHIND JACK'S, RETRIEVED HER OVERSIZED purse. She got out, popped the trunk, then smiled as he reached in to retrieve her overnight case.

"No comments about what the hell's in this thing?"

"Actually, I thought it would be a lot heavier."

"I restrained myself. I never asked what time you have to get started tomorrow."

"About eight. Not too early."

She linked her hand with his, added a playful swing of arms. "I'll repay your hospitality and fix breakfast. If you have anything to fix."

"I probably do." They walked up the steps to the back door of the apartment above his office.

"It makes it easy, doesn't it, to live where you work? Though I sometimes think we end up working more than we would if we had more defined lines. I love this building. It's got character." 

"I fell for it," he told her as he unlocked the door.

"It suits you. The character and tradition on the outside, the clean lines and balanced flow of space inside," she added as she stepped into his kitchen.

"Speaking of clean lines and flow, I'm still trying to find words over the soccer exhibition."

"That impulse is probably going to have my quads crying tomorrow."

"I think your quads can take it. Have I told you I have a weakness for women in sports?"

She walked with him through the apartment to the bedroom. "You didn't have to. I know you have a weakness for women and a weakness for sports."

"Put them together, and I'm gone."

"And a slave to the female bicycle kick." She lifted to her toes, pecked his lips with hers. "You should've seen me in my soccer uniform."

"Do you still have it?"

She laughed, and setting her overnight on the bed, unzipped it. "As a matter of fact."

"In there?"

"Afraid not. But I do have this . . ." She pulled out something very sheer, very short, very black. "If you're interested."

"I think this is going down as a perfect day."