A Man She Couldn’t Forget (20 page)

“Goodbye, Jonathan.”

As she watched him leave, Clare knew the decision she’d made earlier was the right one. Finally, she knew what she would do.

C
LARE HAD HAD A HELL OF A TIME
finding Brady. She called his sister Sam, who scoffed at her, hounded Delia and Max, though they were cold and not forthcoming, and even checked with Lucinda, who laughed into the phone, then hung up.

She was just about to call Lillian when help came unexpectedly. Donny Kramer arrived at her condo without Delia.

Despite the situation, she was glad to see someone who still loved her. “Donny, what are you doing here?”

“I know where Uncle Brady is,” he blurted out. “I heard you asking Mom, and she wouldn’t tell you.”

“Oh, honey, I don’t want you in the middle of this. I’ll find him another way.”

Donny went on despite her objection. “He saw me before he left. He said he was going away. He’s in New York, the place you always stayed at.”

Swallowing hard at the boy’s loyalty to her, Clare had hugged Donny until he was embarrassed.

Without packing, she drove to the airport and got the first flight to New York that was available. When she landed, she made a stop on Madison Avenue, then she headed to Charlie’s Pub.

The old man grinned hugely when he saw her come through the door. He’d aged since the last time she’d been here two years ago. “There she is,” he said warmly, as if she’d been coming to the pub routinely. “I asked Brady how you were, but he didn’t tell me much.” He frowned. “I’ve missed you, girl. You all right?”

“I missed you, too.” She gave him an impulsive peck on the cheek. “And I’m fine. I’m wonderful. He’s here, right?”

“Yeah, upstairs. Been moping around like a puppy for days. You got anything to do with that?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna fix it?”

“Uh-huh.”

He pulled out a drawer and handed her a key. “Go for it. The second suite.”

Clare sprinted up the back stairs to the floor where Brady was staying. Her heart pounded as she neared the door, and not from the exercise. Should she knock? No. Better to surprise him.

She heard the shower running when she walked into the living area. Not much had changed since she’d last stayed here. The space was uncluttered, with a slightly worn couch, a stuffed recliner, a braided rug on the floor and a TV. Mementos of Charlie’s life hung on the walls, giving the place a homey feeling. She sniffed. It smelled familiar. Wonderfully familiar.

The bath was off the bedroom, so she headed in there. Again, the room was furnished in a homey decor, a lot like Brady’s room, where she’d slept last night. She dropped down on the big oak bed, brimming with anticipation.

Five minutes later Brady came into the room, staring down at the floor, with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and his body gleaming. A rush of desire hit Clare so hard she gasped, making him look up.

His face went from surprise to displeasure to resignation. “What are you doing here, Clare?”

“I’ve come to bring you back home.”

“New York’s my new home.”

“Like hell.”

“I signed a huge book deal.”

“Good for you.” She crossed her ankles at her feet and smiled. “You’ll have to set your deadlines around our cookbooks.”

He shook his head. “I’m done with them.”

“No, you aren’t.”

F
ROM THE OTHER SIDE
of the room, Brady watched Clare, nonplussed at why she’d come. She wouldn’t hurt him like this intentionally just to get her way. “Wait a sec. I can’t have this conversation half-naked.” He went to the closet, turned his back to her, pulled out jeans, dropped the towel and dragged them on commando.

What the hell? She whistled at the sight of his bare butt? That made him mad.

He whirled around. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know I can barely put one foot in front of the other these days? Why are you here, acting like this?”

She shrugged a shoulder, not in the least chagrined by his tirade. “I’m going to help you walk again, I guess.”

He was so tired of all this that the fight went out of him. “Just tell me why you’re here, Clare. Don’t play games, and don’t be so damn happy.”

“I can’t help being happy.” She stood and approached him. For the life of him, he couldn’t decipher the look in her eyes. She was dressed in plain jeans and a nice blazer. She looked casual and cute and so good it made his heart ache even more. Damn her.

“I went to see the Cooking Channel people before I came to Charlie’s.”

Ah, so that was it. God, how could she be so obtuse? Didn’t she know this was killing him?

“It doesn’t matter if they relinquished their demands about the cookbooks. I can’t work with you again.” His voice rose on the last, but how much could a man take? “I already told you this, damn it.”

“They didn’t relinquish their demands. It was a deal breaker.” She held up her palms. “So I broke the deal.”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you do that. This is what you always wanted.”

“You didn’t
let
me do anything. This is totally my decision. I’ve done it. And it isn’t the end of my dream, Brade. There are other TV stations, other syndications. The Cooking Channel isn’t the only game in town.”

“They’re the best.”

“Then I’ll settle for second best. About that.” She moved in to him and slid her hands up his bare chest, making every nerve in his body tingle. “Because I’ll have you. And you, Brady Langston, are clearly numero uno.”

He swallowed hard. “What happened to bring all this on?”

“I remember everything from the night of the accident. You were right. Jonathan was lying. Well, keeping something from me.”

His fists curled at his sides. “I’ll kill the bastard.”

“He’s not a bastard. He’s hurt and a lot worse off than we are now.”

Grabbing her hands, Brady was afraid of what she’d tell him, but he had to know. “I need the details, Clare. Now. And whatever it is, I’ll help you deal with it.”

When she finished describing the events of that night, he shook his head. “So the cause of your amnesia was physical?”

“Maybe not. Maybe I
was
so torn by what we did, I couldn’t remember the scene with Jonathan. Anyway, what does it matter? The amnesia’s gone.”

“Oh, man. I wouldn’t want to be in Harris’s shoes. I’d never forgive myself.”

“You know what? I think everybody needs to forgive everything that’s been done here.”

Brady almost didn’t know what to do with the relief that flooded him.

Almost.

“You do, huh?” He placed his hands on her hips and yanked her close. He was aroused, mightily, and he wanted her to know it. “Here’s what I think. I think you should kiss me.” He put his lips to her forehead. “Then I think you should take off all those clothes, so this time I can get a good look at you, naked and beautiful.” His hands were already on the snap of her jeans. He leaned in and steeped himself in the feel and scent of her. “And we should make love—slow, intimate, earth-shattering love.”

“You know, Brady, I remember how I always liked that about you. You’re a man who’s not afraid to say what he thinks.” She whispered, “A man who’s not afraid to take what he wants.”

He sobered and peered into her incredible eyes. “I want you, Clare. Now and always.” His throat clogged. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Her voice shook with emotion. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize it.”

He kissed her nose. “There was that little matter of amnesia.”

“A twist of fate, Brady, that in the end brought us together.”

He buried his face in her neck. “We’ll have to toast to fate. Later.”

“Hmm,” Clare said, holding on to him tightly. “Much, much later.”

ISBN: 978-1-4268-2693-1

A MAN SHE COULDN’T FORGET

Copyright © 2009 by Mary Catherine Schaefer.

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