Sizzling

“She’s not a flower kind of person,” he said at last.

“Is that the best you can do? Claiming an allergy would have been a lot smarter. So you’re the rich baseball player, right?”

“Ex-baseball player. I was a pitcher.”

“Whatever. Order your grandmother some flowers. A lot of flowers. Have them delivered at regular intervals. Do you hear me? Throw in a few stuffed animals. Bears, cats, giraffes, I don’t care. Something to give this poor woman the illusion that her family cares if she lives or dies. If you don’t, you’ll be answering to me and you won’t like that.”

Her concern was misplaced, but he respected her enthusiasm. “You don’t scare me.”

“Not yet, but I will.”

Chapter Two

LORI GOT GLORIA SETTLED at home with a minimum of fuss. Of course, the fact that her patient was practically unconscious really helped things along.

Lori unpacked Gloria’s suitcase, confirmed her physical therapy appointment for the next morning and picked out something light for her evening meal. While the older woman was getting better, she’d lost a little too much weight in the past few weeks. Lori intended to put some meat back on her fashionably thin bones.

She was on her way to look in on her patient when the doorbell rang. She answered it and found two delivery men, each holding several vases of fresh flowers. One had a giant giraffe tucked under his arm.

“Perfect,” she said as she motioned for them to leave the flowers on the floor of the foyer. Lori had already picked out several strategic spots for floral displays in Gloria’s room. “I appreciate the fast service.”

“The guy who ordered these wanted us to ask if you’re satisfied now.”

She grinned. “Tell him not even close.”

The man shrugged, then he and his partner left.

Lori grabbed two of the larger vases and headed for the study. She’d just finished with the last arrangement when Gloria opened her eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice surprisingly strong for someone who had, until this second, been zonked on pain medication.

“Putting out flowers. Your grandchildren sent them. Aren’t they beautiful?”

“No. I hate flowers. And I see no reason for my grandchildren to send me anything. They’re far too selfish.”

Lori agreed with that, but kept her smile cheery. “I love the smell. Don’t you?”

“Absolutely not. Cut flowers die quickly and that depresses me. Take them away.”

“Sorry, no.” Unfazed by Gloria’s complaints, Lori made one last trip to grab the giraffe and returned with it.

Gloria actually raised her bed slightly and glared at the stuffed animal. “What is that? It’s awful.”

Lori hugged the cuddly creature. “It’s here to make you smile. I think it’s adorable.”

“You have very low standards.”

“I don’t think so.” She propped up the giraffe in a corner. “Okay, that’s all done. Let’s get you something to eat. You must be starved.”

“I’m not hungry at all. Go away.”

Lori did as she requested, but only went as far as the kitchen. She popped the entrée into the microwave and checked the rest of the tray. Everything seemed to be in place.

After the microwave dinged, she collected the steaming food and carried it back into the study.

Gloria might claim to not want dinner, but she’d raised her bed in anticipation of eating. A good sign.

“Here you go,” Lori said, setting the tray on the table in front of her.

Gloria stared at the food, then pushed at the table. As it was on wheels, it slid away.

“This is disgusting. I will not eat it. Take it away. I’m not hungry.”

Lori put her hands on her hips. Most of her crabby patients at least started out being pleasant. It usually took a couple of days for the anger and fear to come out. She had to respect that Gloria started as she meant to go on.

“You’re too thin,” she said calmly. “There are one of two ways to fix that. You can eat and gain back a couple of pounds, or we can hook you up to a feeding tube. I have to tell you, based on professional observation, you’re going to want to eat. The feeding tube route is pretty unpleasant. However, it’s an option. After all, you’re rich, right? Nothing but the best for you.”

“Then why are you here?”

Lori blinked. Okay—so there was nothing wrong with Gloria’s mental reasoning skills. “I’m the best. And really expensive. You should respect that.”

Gloria looked her up and down, then sniffed. “You’re shabby and poor. I can smell the poverty on you.”

“Is that from personal experience? After all, you started out poor. Wasn’t your first job working as a maid in a hotel?”

Gloria glared at her. “I will not discuss my past with you.”

“Why not? I’m actually interested in how you got from there to here. You were running an empire at a time when most women were afraid to dream that big. You’re a pioneer. I respect that.”

“You think I care about your opinion on anything?”

Lori thought for a second, then smiled. “Yeah, I do. Not enough people respect you, which is their loss.” She pushed the table back over the bed and nudged the tray a tiny bit closer to Gloria. “I picked out the meals for the first few days, but the catering service left a menu. I’m happy to let you look it over and choose your own food. Or if you’d prefer to hire a cook, that’s fine, too.”

Gloria kept her expression neutral, but Lori thought she saw a flash of emotion. She just couldn’t tell which one.

“You’re very free with my money,” Gloria muttered.

Lori laughed, even though she knew the other woman wasn’t trying to be funny. “One of the perks of the job. Do you want me to cut up your chicken?”

Gloria’s gaze narrowed. “Only if you want me to stab you with my fork.”

“I’m pretty spry. You’d have to move quickly.”

“I would be motivated.”

At last—a flash of something very close to humor. A good sign. “Okay—I’ll let you eat in peace. Do you want the television on?” She opened the cabinet doors, exposing the television and DVD player, then left the remote on the bed. “Call if you need anything.”

BY FOUR-THIRTY that afternoon, Lori felt as if she’d been the victim of a hit-and-run. Her momentary breakthrough with Gloria was nothing more than a distant memory once the older woman finished complaining that her bed was too hard, her pillows too soft, that her sheets had an odd smell and that the television buzzed.

“I’ll get a serviceman in here as soon as possible,” Lori said, doing her best to be patient. She also had to keep herself from looking at her watch. This had been the longest afternoon of her life. And to think it had only been a half day with Gloria.

She kept telling herself that Gloria was unhappy for a reason and that things would get better.

A little after five she headed for the kitchen and found a tall, pretty, large-breasted woman unpacking a giant tote bag. Her uniform marked her as a nurse. Her physical description told Lori who had done the hiring.

“Hi,” the woman said, smiling brightly. “I’m Sandy Larson, twilight nurse. Which is a first. Usually I’m the night nurse. On call when it’s dark. Hey, that sounds like the title of a book. Or a porn movie.” Sandy grinned. “Not sure which I’d rather be in. On a good day…”

Lori did her best to greet the woman pleasantly, despite the sudden knot in her stomach. What on earth was wrong with her? So Reid had gone true to type with the other nurse. What did Lori care?

Lori brought Sandy up to speed on Gloria’s care. “She’s tired so she’s a little difficult, but not awful.”

“I can handle her,” Sandy said. “If my patients give me any trouble, I start talking about my favorite soap opera. That usually bores them into falling asleep. It’s why I love the night shift. You day girls work too hard.” She leaned toward Lori. “Gotta love this job, though. Twelve hours of pay for an eight hour shift.”

“It’s great. I’ll just go and tell Gloria goodbye.”

“Sure thing. See you tomorrow.”

Lori nodded and returned to the study. “I’m heading out,” she told Gloria. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Gloria looked up from the magazine she’d been reading and stared at Lori over her glasses. “I can’t imagine why you would think I would care about your comings and goings. Stay or go. It doesn’t matter the least to me.”

Lori grinned. “I had a good day, too, Gloria. You’re more than welcome.”

REID PARKED his Corvette behind the Downtown Sports Bar and climbed out. He stood staring at the rear door for a full minute, then told himself it wouldn’t be so bad.

Ever since he’d blown out his arm and had to retire from baseball, he’d been working at the family sports bar. “Working” being a loose definition of what he did. In theory he was the general manager. In reality he came and went as he wanted, occasionally worked behind the bar, entertained customers with stories about his baseball career and life and hired the female staff. He’d always thought of the sports bar as a refuge—a place to hang where he was known and admired. Today it was nothing more than a house of shame.

Everyone inside knew him and he was willing to bet his impressive bank account that each one of them had read the morning paper.

“Goddamn it all to hell,” he grumbled, then used his key to let himself in the back door.

Figuring he might as well get it over with as quickly as possible, he bypassed the relative safety of his office and walked into the bar.

Instantly the low rumble of conversation stilled and all eyes focused on him. Reid kept moving.

“Hey, hon,” one of the waitresses called, her mouth twisted in some weird almost-normal smile. “Good to see you.”

He nodded and continued walking through the happy hour crowd.

“Reid!” one guy yelled. “How’s it hanging?”

Reid ignored that, scanned the clusters of patrons and saw two familiar faces in a corner. He headed directly for them.

“Reid.” Maddie, one of the waitresses, grabbed his arm. “She’s full of shit, okay? That night we were together was great. Let me know if you want me to sign a letter or something.”

He nodded at the busty brunette, knowing that they had spent the night in bed and unable to remember anything specific in the blur that was his sexual past.

He hurried over to greet his two brothers and sank gratefully into the chair they’d pulled up for him.

They’d positioned their table just right, tucking his chair next to a display case of sports crap. It meant he wasn’t in anyone’s direct line of sight.

Cal, his older brother, pushed a full mug of beer in his direction. “How you holding up?” he asked.

“How do you think?” Reid took a long swallow. “It’s a little slice of hell.”

Walker, his younger brother, grimaced sympathetically. “Sucks the big one.”

Reid eyed the nachos on the table, but he wasn’t hungry. “The worst part is I don’t even remember her. It was the week my team was in the playoffs. I’m sure I was drunk.” He shook his head. “What does it matter? She wanted revenge and she sure as hell got it. Reporters are everywhere. They’re crawling all over the houseboat.”

“It’s not a defensible position,” Walker told him.

Cal looked at Reid. “So speaks our brother, the former marine.”

“He knows what he’s talking about,” Reid grumbled. “I’ve got to get out of there. I thought about a hotel, but they’ll find me there. Someone on the staff will sell me out.”

“Come stay with Penny and me,” Cal said. “We have room.”

Reid hesitated. Their house was big enough, but Cal and Penny had a new baby. They were focused on other things.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’d be in the way.”

“You wouldn’t,” Cal told him.

Walker shrugged. “You can bunk with me, but it would be on a sofa.”

“Tempting,” Reid said with a grin. “But, no.”

“You could always move in with Gloria,” Cal said. “No one would think to look for you there. Didn’t you say one of her nurses had set up a room for her downstairs?”

“In the study,” Reid said slowly, considering the possibility.

“You would have the whole upstairs,” Walker told him.

“There’s plenty of room,” Reid murmured. His moving in would also annoy the hell out of Lori, and that would be a plus.

A woman walked toward the table. She was tall, built and cover-model gorgeous. She smiled at him.

“Darlin’, I just wanted to let you know that the night we had together was incredible. I still remember everything about it and I’m willing to swear to it. Want my phone number?”

Reid studied her face and realized he had absolutely no recollection of ever having seen her before. What did that say about him?

“I appreciate the offer,” he said. “I’ll let you know if I need a signed statement.”

“You do that. I’m always willing.”

She turned and walked away. He watched her swaying hips and felt absolutely nothing. Given the day he’d had, it would probably be months before he could think about having sex again, and how grim was that?

He leaned back in his chair and looked at his brothers. “That reporter has me by the balls. I can’t sue. There’s no way to win. It would be a circus. I don’t want that. My manager says to lay low and it will blow over.”

“He’s right,” Walker said. “People will get interested in someone else’s life.”

“When?” Reid asked, knowing it couldn’t be soon enough. “I talked to him about the other stuff in the article. Where that bitch of a reporter said I’d blown off kids and charity events. I wouldn’t do that.”

He hadn’t. He hated that kind of stuff, so he made it a point to never accept any kind of invitation where he had to show up and speak. He sent checks…or his manager did.

“Just because some kid sent a letter inviting me to some charity thing doesn’t mean I have to go. But that’s not how the reporter saw it.”

“You have to let it go,” Cal said. “You can’t do anything about it now.”

Reid knew that was the truth, but he hated being painted in asshole colors. “I talked to Seth about the other stuff in the article, that baseball team that went to the state championships. He said that was just a mix-up with the travel agent. I didn’t know anything about it.”

His brothers looked sympathetic, but that wasn’t helping. Maybe because sympathy wasn’t enough. Not when he’d been accused of offering to sponsor a baseball team and send them to their state championships, only to have the travel agent forget to include a return ticket. All those kids and their families had been stranded hundreds of miles from home with no way to get back.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he mumbled, knowing in truth, he hadn’t done anything at all. “I told Seth to send me everything. The fan mail, the charity requests. I’m going to read them myself.”

“And then what?” Cal asked.

“Hell if I know. I’ll do something. I have to. It’s one thing for that reporter to say I’m lousy in bed, but it’s another for her to claim I disappoint kids. I’d never do that.”

Not messing up was one of the main reasons he preferred not to get involved at all.

“This sucks,” he said, as he reached for his beer. “My life is at a new low point.”

“Worse than when you blew out your shoulder?” Walker asked.

“No,” Reid said quietly. “Not worse than that.”

Walker shrugged. “Just trying to put things in perspective.”

No, this wasn’t worse, Reid thought, but it was close. A little too close.

REID WAITED until close to ten to drive to his houseboat. He’d borrowed Walker’s SUV so he could load up his stuff and transport it to Gloria’s house. Despite the late hour, there were two photographers waiting on the dock. They snapped pictures of him going into the houseboat and he heard one of them making a call, saying he’d been found. He also caught a suggestion about him taking an Internet class on how to please women.

Twenty minutes later, he’d packed two suitcases and was backing out of his parking space. The tow truck he’d hired pulled behind the photographers’ cars in the guest parking section of the lot, preventing Reid from being followed. The guy would stay there a few more minutes, then leave. All Reid wanted was a clean getaway.

When he reached Gloria’s place, Walker was waiting there to help him unload. They traded car keys and Walker left with the SUV. Reid’s Corvette was already hidden in the garage.

“Hell of a way to live,” he muttered as he walked inside.

He started up the stairs only to stop when he saw a somewhat familiar, tall blonde heading down. She smiled.

“Hey, Reid. How’s it going?”

“Good,” he lied, as he tried to remember where he knew the woman from. Then he focused on the scrub shirt and realized she was one of Gloria’s nurses.

“Sandy,” the woman said when they were on the same step. “Sandy Larson. You interviewed me for the job.”

Right. And her beaming smile said the interview had gone well. He remembered now—Sandy had been eager to sleep with her favorite player. They’d had a hell of a time on his big desk at the Downtown Sports Bar.

“I heard you’re moving in here,” Sandy said.

“Temporarily.”

“Sure. Makes sense.” She touched his arm. “Listen—I had a great afternoon with you, but I wanted to let you know I’m with someone now. It’s exclusive. So I’m not going to be interested in a repeat performance. Please don’t take it personally, okay?”

“Of course not,” he said, careful to keep his expression politely interested.

He couldn’t care less about sleeping with Sandy again, but that wasn’t the point. She should be all over him, because hey, he was Reid Buchanan.

But given how his day had gone, why was he even surprised?

LORI ARRIVED a few minutes early for her shift. She put her jacket and purse in the hall closet and found yet another tall, well-built beauty in the kitchen.

She hated that she instantly felt short and curveless. Even worse was the cause. She refused to let a womanizing, brainless twit of a man ruin her day.

“Hi,” she said cheerfully. “I’m Lori Johnston.”

“Kristie Ellsworth,” the stunning brunette said with a smile. “Gloria slept most of the night and woke up asking for you. I guess you made an impression.”

“Hopefully a good one.”

“I was going to take in her breakfast,” Kristie said.

“I can do that if you want to head out.”

“That would be great.”

Five minutes later Lori walked in with Gloria’s breakfast.

“You’re back,” the older woman said. “How unfortunate.”

“I heard you were asking about me, so don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me.”

“I’m not happy. I was asking in the hopes that you’d quit.”

“No such luck.” She set the tray on the table. “We’re going to have to get you a hobby. Something other than being crabby. Maybe knitting. Everyone’s doing it.”

Gloria ignored that and poked at her pancakes. “I don’t eat breakfast. I’ll have some coffee and nothing else.”

Lori leaned close and lowered her voice. “I have just two words for you, young lady. Feeding tube. Don’t make me get ugly. Eat and be happy.”

“You’re a most annoying person.”

“I’ve heard that. It’s kind of a point of pride with me.”

Gloria stared at her for several seconds, then passed over a section of the newspaper. “Did you read this yesterday?”

“I don’t read the paper.”

“You should. Women should be aware of what’s going on in the world. Which is not the point. Reid has moved in temporarily. Obviously he’s taking advantage of my weakened condition. You’d think he was old enough to clean up his own mess, but apparently not. Now he’s dragged the family name through the mud. He’s a constant disappointment and embarrassment.”

Lori glanced at the headline and blinked. “Good in bed…not so much? That’s kind of cold.”

“Apparently he didn’t please the reporter and she decided to tell the world. It’s disgusting. She’s nothing but a slut, but heaven forbid we should say that.” She tapped the paper. “Read it. Learn from it. My grandson has a way with women. Don’t be one of the idiots who falls for him and then gets her heart broken. I have no patience for stupid women.”

“You’re warning me off,” Lori said, suddenly getting it. She grinned. “You’re worried about me.”

“Go away.”

For once, Lori did as she asked, mostly because she wanted to read the article.

She settled at the kitchen table and spread out the paper, then scanned the first couple of paragraphs and winced. No guy wants to be told he’s not good in bed, especially in public and in print. That had to hurt.

She almost felt sorry for Reid. While she had no sense of his sexual skill, he had to have learned something with all his experience. Didn’t he?

The object of her speculation walked into the kitchen, looking rumpled and exhausted. He’d pulled on jeans and nothing else, his hair was mussed and he needed a shave.

He was fifteen kinds of gorgeous.

Lori watched him as he crossed the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. His impressive muscles flexed and rippled with each movement. He looked warm and sexy and deep inside her stomach she felt the beginnings of a quiver.

He glanced up and saw her.

“Morning,” he mumbled, then left.

She didn’t exist to him. Never had, never would. Being attracted to him put her so far in the idiot camp that she would never find her way out.

She was an embarrassment to intelligent women everywhere. Worse, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

Chapter Three

LORI PULLED INTO her driveway a little after five. Her neighborhood was light-years away from Gloria’s street of gated mansions, but Lori didn’t mind. She loved everything about her house.

Its two-bedroom, two-bath size suited her perfectly. She loved the details of the Craftsman style, the built-ins, the moldings. She loved that she’d painted every wall herself and had done most of the remodeling without help. She loved the colors, the garden, the porch, the way the house looked solid…and made her feel safe.

She walked inside and breathed in the scent of garlic. “You’re cooking,” she yelled by way of greeting. “You’re not supposed to be cooking.”

Madeline stepped out of the kitchen and grinned. “I don’t believe that was in the contract I signed, but I’ll have to go check. Besides, I’m having a good day. On good days I want to cook.”

Lori studied her sister’s face, searching for lines of fatigue or paleness in her coloring. Neither was there. Instead Madeline looked serenely beautiful, as she always had.

In Lori’s mind, the family gene pool had a killer sense of humor. Lori was average height, Madeline a few inches taller. Lori had inherited awful orange curls that had thankfully faded to a more muted reddish-gold. Madeline had auburn waves. She woke up looking like a 1940s movie star. With a little effort and some mascara, she looked like a goddess. It had taken Lori most of her life, but she’d finally learned not to be bitter.

“How was day two?” Madeline asked. “Gloria still a challenge?”

“She defines the term. This morning she nearly hinted that she liked having me around and then spent the rest of the day insulting me. I have to say there’s nothing wrong with her brain. She’s really good at the one-line put-down.”

Madeline folded her arms across her University of Washington sweatshirt. “You still like her?”

“I do. I know I shouldn’t. There’s a power struggle in our future and I’m going to win, but still, there’s something about her. She’s trying too hard to be a bitch and I can’t figure out why. Is it a defense mechanism? A way of coping? Did she have to be a bitch to get ahead all those years ago and forget to turn it off? One of her grandsons called. This guy named Cal. He wanted to come by and check on her. Gloria wouldn’t take the call and told me to tell him that she would be dead soon and then he could be happy.”