"You can't wait until the summer's over to pursue this." Out of his father's face, Walsh's own eyes stared back at him with iron in the irises. "I need you on this now."
"I said I've got it." Walsh stiffened his back and calcified his tone. Martin Bennett only understood aggression; he only respected the kind of mental brawn he employed himself.
"You'll need an assistant."
"I'll ask Claire for recommendations."
"I've already selected someone." Martin turned to face Walsh wearing a younger man's wolfish grin. "Trisha McAvery."
"Hmmpph." Walsh grunted, refusing to blink, trying to decipher what his father was up to. "Okay, Trisha should be fine."
"That's a mild response. Most healthy, red-blooded males would jump at the chance to work with a woman who looks like Trisha."
"I hope that most healthy, red-blooded males would appreciate how highly unprofessional a relationship with an employee would be." Walsh's voice was a stone wall he dared his father to scale.
"Who said anything about a relationship?" Martin laughed like a rogue.
"Not interested." Walsh strode to the door, eager to get out of his father's presence. His soul needed a shower.
"You and Sofie practicing a little premarital monogamy?"
Walsh turned back toward his father, his hand on the door.
"Dad, I'm not marrying Sofie."
"Of course you are." Martin cut his hand through the air, a dismissal. "Everyone knows that."
"I don't know it."
"Sofie believes it."
"Sofie can believe in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus." Walsh sifted grit into his words. "I'm still not marrying her."
"You can't marry just anyone. One day Bennett will be yours, and you need the right kind of woman on your arm when you walk through certain doors."
"Maybe I'll wait for someone I love." Walsh faced his father fully now, matching his aggressive stance.
"Love," his father said, somewhere between a laugh and a hiss.
"Yeah, Dad, some people marry for it. You wouldn't know about that, though, would you?"
Anger made reptilian slits of his father's eyes.
"You don't think I loved your mother?"
"I think you broke my mother's heart." Walsh snapped the words before firming his mouth and smoothing the scowl from his face. "I think you cheated on her. Guess that was just part of grabbing your dick and figuring it out."
"Son, I-"
"I have a flight to catch." Walsh turned on his heel to leave before his father could offer excuses for the inexcusable.
Chapter Eleven
When she'd first started working with Maid 4 U, Kerris had thought there was nothing more cathartic than cleaning bathrooms. Give her an old toothbrush, a can of Comet, some moldy tile grout, and she was happy as a tick on a dog. Unfortunate comparison, but somehow it fit.
She had often lost herself in contemplation over a freshly scrubbed toilet or a sparkling sink and mirror. She had convinced herself in a particularly dirty bathroom to accept Cam's invitation for a date after six months of asking. By the time that bathroom was sparkling, she had decided she was waiting for something that would never happen. She shared a deep friendship with Cam. He was good to her, understood her issues, and wanted what she wanted more than anything as much as she did-a family of her own making. They'd had their first date the next day.
Kerris flung her sponge into the claw-footed tub, leaning her forehead against the cold rim. She released a breath she felt like she'd been holding for days. She closed her eyes, but the memories that had assailed her ever since that kiss at the hospital played on the backs of her lids with 3-D vividness. Inescapable images. Pleasure she had only imagined, never tasted.
She'd been haunted by a misplaced sense of rightness between her and Walsh as they'd touched. It had frightened and enchanted her. It was the thing she had stopped believing was possible, but with a man who could never belong to her; could never commit to her or give her the children she wanted. They were from completely different worlds. She couldn't ever breathe the rarified air in the world Walsh inhabited, much less share his life.
And he was Cam's best friend. There was that.
If only she could delete the memory of him; the sweet brush of his lips and the desperate hunger of his hands. She closed her eyes tighter, tasting him again, hearing the hitch of his breath at that first touch. Smelling the intoxicating scent of him, a glorious male animal in heat.
She banged her head against the tub, willing the memories to shake and dislodge.
In the two weeks he had been gone, she had revised her opinion of herself. She wasn't a frozen river, iced over and immune to a man's touch. In those stolen moments in Iyani's room, redolent with death, the ice had cracked, and she was rushing water threatening to overflow her banks. The passion she had believed was a myth, she now craved.
How would she hide it from Walsh?
"You almost done in here?" Meredith asked from the doorway, pulling the bandanna from her hair. She, like Kerris, wore cutoff jeans and a Maid 4 U T-shirt.
"Yeah. Just a few more minutes."
"You okay? You haven't been yourself lately."
"I'm cool." Kerris relaxed the muscles of her face one by one, avoiding Meredith's don't-shit-me eyes. "Just tired."
"Okay. If you're sure." Meredith leaned against the doorjamb. "Well, what'd you think of the mayor's house?"
"Beautiful, but not my style. Too stuffy." Kerris picked up her sponge to finish the tub.
"Did you get to meet his daughter, Ardis?"
"No. She lives here?"
"Yeah, I think she came in after you." Meredith rolled her eyes. "She's a real peach."
"What does she do?"
"Well, college was a hobby for her. Now she's having a layover until she finds the perfect man to take care of her and set her up as a professional socialite."
Meredith, a card-carrying worker bee, derided anyone who didn't see the value of gainful employment.
"She graduated a couple of years ago, but I haven't heard of her lifting a finger for anything but one of her committees. What a waste."
"If that's what the lady wants to do. It's her life, right?"
"I just don't get it. At least Sofie models."
"Sofie?" Kerris squeezed the sponge till water poured from it. "Why'd you mention her?"
"Oh, she's with Ardis. Apparently their families have been friends forever, and Sofie's been staying here during the summer when she comes to visit Walsh. I overheard them talking about Mrs. Bennett's birthday party tonight, so I guess she's in town for that."
"Oh, yeah." Kerris ran both hands over her face, a weary gesture that smelled of Clorox. "That is tonight, isn't it?"
"Will Walsh be coming back for it?"
Kerris felt Meredith's eyes locked and loaded on her face with the focus of a sniper. She willed herself not to squirm under the eye of her friend's scope.
"Um, I wouldn't know." Kerris leaned into the tub to reach a spot, conveniently hiding her face. "Cam said he was scheduled to be back a couple of days ago. I doubt he'll miss his mother's birthday party."
"Well, I'm sure Sofie will be waiting with open arms."
"Yeah, you're probably right." Kerris reached up to tighten the bandanna wrapped around her head, needing to occupy her hands. "Well, let me finish up in here."
Meredith rightly interpreted that as the dismissal and No Trespassing sign that it was, and let it go.
"I'll wait on the porch then. See you in a few."
Kerris resumed her scrubbing, biting her lip against foolish tears. She chided herself. Walsh was off-limits. He might be attracted to Kerris, might have great chemistry with her, but he wouldn't be settling down with someone like her. And what about Cam? He was the surest thing in her life right now. Not only did he love her, but he accepted her. He saw the damage her past had done and wanted her anyway. Wanted a life with her. Wanted a family with her. She couldn't allow one kiss with a man she really barely knew to ruin that, could she?
"I'm pretty sure I left it in the bathroom," a voice said from behind her. "Oh! I didn't realize your maid was in here. Does she speak English?"
"Yeah, she does." Kerris threaded as much outrage and dignity into the response as she could before she saw who it was. "Oh, Sofie."
Kerris glanced down, not sure if the rags on her body were much better than the rags in her bucket. Of course, it would be Sofie. It was just that kind of day.