The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (34 page)

Well, this just keeps getting better and better. You’re not too far down the list from the plague—the kind that kills firstborns and wipes out civilizations.

“You hurtle through space, heading straight for earth, completely unexpected and completely unavoidable. Before the earth is hit and the lives of everyone in it change, people hold their breaths and watch your spectacular descent with a mixture of awe and trepidation because they have never seen something like you before and they’re not sure whether or not they’ll survive your impact.”

My jaw must’ve dropped a while back but no sound had come out of my mouth. 

Brandon grinned and brushed my lower lip with his thumb, prompting me to purse my lips close. 

Before I could say anything though, he leaned in and kissed me softly, his arm snaking around my waist and pulling me closer against him.

I surrendered to the kiss. 

I surrendered because I knew no other way.

Even the prospect that like the asteroid I could crash and burn, couldn’t tear me away from Brandon because it felt so goddamned good when I wasn’t fighting it.

My hands tugged at the lapels of his suit and he released me briefly to shrug it off, grabbing me by the arms right away as if he feared I would bolt.

No way. Bring out the big guns and the brigade but I’m staying right here.

“Charlotte,” Brandon breathed softly, his hands spanning my waist as his lips grazed the line of my jaw, stopping at the base of my ear where he flicked his tongue against the sensitive spot there.

I shuddered in his embrace, a delicious ache being injected into my body which writhed and demanded for some kind of relief.

Grabbing his shirt, I yanked at the buttons as best as I could without ripping the whole thing off, and Brandon’s own hands joined mine to speed up the process of stripping him bare.

It might have only taken seconds but by the time my back pressed against the soft, luxurious sheets, it seemed like it had taken a lifetime to get there.

His large, warm hands molded around the swell of my breasts, gently squeezing as his mouth returned to mine, taking as much as he was giving me.

My hands glided slowly along his bare shoulder blades, my bent legs parting to let him in between them, my toes digging into the soft bed as his hips pressed against mine, his erection more insistent against the the silky fabric of his pants. 

It reminded me of exactly the kind of path we were leading down on but I was too far gone to care.

I may have been a bit tipsy earlier but I had been sober enough to know where this was going. Now, I felt like I was completely drunk—and it was lust in my bloodstream this time. 

I arched my back when he nipped my jaw all of a sudden and his hands didn’t miss a beat in sliding down and searching for the fastenings of my bustier. As the lingerie loosened bit by bit, Brandon’s mouth followed the trail of newly exposed skin until the heavy globes of my breasts were freed up from the constraints of the thinly lined lace cups.

I felt decidedly wicked under the scorching gaze of his heavy-lidded hazel eyes but what I had been feeling was merely a flare compared to the wild fire that erupted on my skin the moment his mouth lowered and captured my hardened nipple, sucking and circling the tight bud with his tongue.

My fingers raked through his hair, gripping tight at the onslaught of sensations that were coursing through me from every nerve ending on my body.

I barely noticed any discomfort from the desperate twisting of my body as Brandon loosened the last clasp on the bustier and pulled the thing off completely.

“Damn, Charlotte,” came his ragged whisper as he lifted off the bed to gaze down at my body which was now only covered by a thin scrap of white silk and lace between my legs. 

My eyes flew down to my bared body and noticed the band of bruises around my rib area. I cringed and instinctively curled my body inward but Brandon caught my knee and gently unfurled me back.

“I look horrible there,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around my belly to hide the mottled variations of blue and purple on my skin. “Battered blue isn’t really my color.”

“I know,” Brandon bit out as he reached forward to move my arms away gently, revealing my injuries. 

The scabs on my hand and knees didn’t bother me as much but the bruises reminded me too much of memories I’d rather completely forget.

“Neither of us wants to remember what happened but you don’t need to hide them from me just because you think I’ll find them unattractive, Charlotte,” he murmured, running his fingertips along my discolored skin ever so lightly. “They simply remind me of how brave and strong you are.”

At his words, I lifted my gaze and met his.

His eyes were nearly molten with lust—fiery amber shards in the dim light of the room. 

If he was feeling half of what my body was screaming for, I could sympathize with his sweet torture.

Brandon Maxfield was magnificent.

Beautiful was too soft a word and there was nothing soft in the rigid planes of his upper torso where each muscle was carved out perfectly. 

I watched as he tore off his pants, my eyes following the sculpted waist rippling with muscle that tapered into narrow hips and long, powerful legs with a dusting of soft, dark hair.

Dear God. 

When my eyes finally focused on what stood proudly between his legs, my throat went dry and the sudden pounding of my heart filled my ears.

Brandon Maxfield was incredibly well-hung. Either that or I had magnifying glasses for eyes.

“Do you know a good physiotherapist?” I blurted out, looking up at him. “The nonjudgemental, discreet kind we can afford.”

His brows furrowed as he took a step closer. “Uh, what for?”

I swallowed hard. “In case I won’t be able to walk again after tonight.”

A husky laugh rumbled from Brandon’s chest as he climbed back up on the bed, hovering above me, his lips pressing gently against my forehead.

“You’re so incredibly precious, Charlotte,” he murmured, kissing the space between my brows, each of my cheeks, the tip of my nose and the point on my chin. “I want you. I want your smiles. I want your laughter. I want the light in you. I want your generous heart. I want your brave soul. I want your fierce loyalty. I want your tenderness. I want your candid spirit. I want anything and everything about you.”

In that moment, time became irrelevant. Whether Brandon wanted me for a year or a lifetime didn’t matter—it couldn’t matter in the grand scale of things where my life was constantly a cycle of fleeting chances. I had to seize what I wanted because it may never come my way again.

“I want you too, Brand,” I whispered as my legs wrapped around his hips loosely despite the pinch on my midsection and my hands went up to link around his neck. “I want you despite your arrogance sometimes. I want you when you forget yourself and laugh out loud. I want your unexpected sweetness. I want your boyish smiles and your playfulness. I want your sense of protectiveness even when I occasionally grumble about it. I want your bold kisses. I want you because you’re intelligent and serious and it fascinates me. I want you now even when I said I shouldn’t. I want you because there’s no one else I’d rather do this the first time with.”

It was a probably a good thing that Brandon devoured the rest of my ramblings with a devastating kiss, his hips thrusting forward and sliding his erection across the thin silk that separated us. If he hadn’t, I might have kept going to further justify my reckless decision in making love to him.

His fingers hooked on the garter of my panties and started to slowly ease them down my hips. 

That was when the phone rang.

***

“Do you have more quarters?” I asked Jake as I patted the pockets of my jeans for any more change.

Jake searched the breast pocket of his button-up shirt and handed me a few of them. “You’d think most places now just take credit cards.”

I slipped the coins into the slot and made the coffee selection. It was lukewarm at best but it would do for now. I fought a yawn as we stood and watched coffee drip into the styro cup, downing a big gulp of my own cappuccino when my eyes started to feel heavy again.

“You alright?” Jake asked as he ripped open a packet of sugar to stir into his coffee. “It’s five in the morning the day after your wedding. I don’t imagine you’ve slept a wink.”

My cheeks flushed at the reminder of just how close Brandon and I came to consummating our marriage earlier, seconds before the phone started to ring off the hook. 

It had been Tessa calling with the news that Martin had a heart attack after getting home from the wedding.

Brandon and I had scrambled to get dressed and drive to the hospital. We'd arrived in the waiting room where the Maxfield sisters, Mattie (who’d refused to be left behind), Francis and Jake were all restlessly sitting around. Most of them had already changed from their wedding outfits but they all wore matching weary looks. 

Not wanting to intrude, I sat with the rest while Brandon went and talked to one of Martin’s several attending physicians. I tried not to fear for Martin but it was hard to ignore everyone’s worried expression—that of my husband's especially as he paced with a grim look on his face and panic in his eyes.

From the bits and pieces I heard from doctor’s discussion with Brandon and from what the others have told me, I learned that Martin had been diagnosed with unstable angina almost two years ago. It meant that one or more of his coronary arteries had become blocked or narrowed which limited the flow of blood to his heart. It increased his risk of a heart attack and since it was the unstable type, it could trigger an attack with or without strenuous activity which was why Martin had eased off from working and had been trying to live and eat better. While one could live with it through medication and a healthier lifestyle, all it would take was one attack that could result to death.

Damn that Martin. I didn’t think he was serious about dying.

Sure, he didn’t really have a timeline for how long he had left to live but he acted like he did whenever we talked even though he never told me his actual condition. 

If you could go anytime, you’re probably going to assume that life’s deadline was just around the corner. It’s almost worse than knowing when. Uncertainty is hope’s worst enemy.

He had undergone coronary angioplasty almost two years ago as a non-invasive procedure of providing him with some relief from the chest pains. He had told his children that it was a mild heart condition and that the treatment would've fixed it and since he had been doing well except for a couple of non-serious  attacks recently, none of them had really thought him that vulnerable. Tonight's attack had been a serious one and doctors warned that they might have to perform an emergency bypass surgery on him.

My own heart had squeezed painfully at the news. It was risky but with or without it, Martin could die.

Unable to stand the wait for another minute without going out of my mind, I decided to go down to the cafeteria and fetch everyone something to drink and snack on. I thought about calling Felicity and Gilles to bring us something more substantial to eat but both had stayed behind the party much later than any of us at the hospital did to supervise the clean up so I decided against imposing on them any further.

There was a cafe across the street but I didn't want to go too far in case there was an update on Martin so I settled with the hospital cafeteria. Besides, everything would taste the same to me right now. Jake had volunteered to come with me and Brandon was too distracted to worry about it which had been good because the last thing I needed to cap off this memorable night was a jealous rampage.

I'd stopped by him on the end seat he'd finally taken after pacing a patch on the floor, and gingerly touched his cheek.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" I'd asked.

He'd lifted his eyes to me and shook his head. "No, thanks."

After dropping a kiss on his forehead, I headed downstairs with Jake, Mattie dashing right behind us.

I glanced at the somber boy who was sitting on a table a few feet away, quietly sipping his chocolate milk while waiting for us to finish making coffee, and sighed. 

"I'll be okay," I said, turning back to Jake. "I'm not sure I can say the same for the Maxfield siblings."

Jake looked in Mattie's direction and nodded. "They're made of sterner stuff despite their sheltered lives. They're all like their father in that way. They'll get through it."

I nodded back. "We'll make sure they do. You, me and everyone else who is part of this family in some way. They're good people, Jake."

"They are," he agreed as we finished making the last cup of coffee. "I've decided to postpone my trip to London. I'll stick around for as long as I'm needed."

I smiled at him as we picked up the cups and the brown paper bag that contained the microwaved ham and cheese wraps we got from the deli counter. "Thank you, Jake. It means a lot to me and to them to have you around."

I turned to Mattie who glanced our way before slipping off his seat. He held his chocolate milk carton in one hand and offered to carry the last coffee cup with his other.

"How are you doing, buddy?" Jake asked the boy as we moved away from the coffee station. 

"I'm okay," Mattie answered with a quick nod. "I'm wondering if they'll let me bring my small electronic keyboard when I visit Dad. I play for him every day. I don't want him to miss a session."

"I'm sure we can make it happen," I told Mattie and reassured him with a smile. "If Brandon has his way, Martin will have every luxury available to him. We can set up a piano concert if he wants one. We can invite the nurses and doctors to come and join us. I'll sing back up and wear one of those long dresses and a flower on my hair."

A corner of Mattie's mouth twitched in amusement. "That's just silly. It's a hospital, Char."

I caught Jake's smiling gaze and grinned at Mattie. "Hey, just saying that we can do it. I'm sure Martin will think it's fun. What do you say, Jake? Want to play the drums or something?"

Jake cocked his head to one side and pressed a hand on his chest. "Well, I'm a ukulele man myself but I can probably pound on some drums if necessary."

This time, Mattie's smile was full-blown. "And Anna and Tessa can sing back up with Charlotte!"

I wiggled my brows excitedly. "And what will Brandon do?"

Mattie furrowed his brows in thought, taking his time deciding as we got into the elevator. "Well... He can sit and watch and look serious—like those theater bosses who sponsored the arts during the renaissance. He'll be the rich financier who falls madly in love with a beautiful but down-on-her luck back-up singer who makes him smile and laugh!"

Jake and I exchanged glances. Mattie was such a bizarre kid sometimes. This young boy was seriously too old and too romantically creative for his age but at least he snapped out of his somber mood.

I winked at him. "I think Brandon can manage looking like a stern, all-important businessman."

Jake chuckled. "Well, he'll portray himself so that won't be any hardship."

"Since Jake can’t be the drummer, he can be the rakish debonair who flirts with all the female singers and dancers instead," I added, jabbing the man on his side playfully. 

Mattie nodded earnestly, completely caught up in the fantasy now. "And he will fall in love with a sweet, beautiful girl with pale gold hair and big, blue eyes."

I eyed Jake suspiciously. "Oh, really? Does this sweet, beautiful girl happen to be named Felicity?"

Jake's eyes bulged as he choked on his coffee. His gaze narrowed at me. “No. I’m not interested in your assistant, Char.”

“You’re not?” I asked casually, glancing up at the ceiling in mock-innocence. “Because that’s really too bad, Jake. Felicity is an amazing girl—beautiful, intelligent, super-sweet.”

His expression tightened. “I’m sure she is, if you say so. I haven’t really spoken much to her personally and I don’t intend to.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why not? She would be perfect for you. What do you think, Mattie? Isn’t Felicity just an awesome girl?”

The boy nodded. “If I was old enough, I’d marry her.”

I grinned triumphantly at Jake. “See? Mattie has exceptional taste. You can’t get a more glowing recommendation than that.”

Jake held my gaze for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight. 

The elevator door opened and Mattie stepped out. Jake stayed behind for a moment and I paused on my way out to wait for him.

He said nothing as he slowly stepped out of the elevator and I lagged back to keep pace with him while Mattie was already a few feet ahead of us.

“Jake?” I prompted uncertainly, aware that there was nothing teasing or playful about his mood anymore.

He sighed. “I get that you feel terrible and want me to be happy, Char, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t force me in a certain direction. You can’t just grab the first girl you think will match up well with me and drop her in your place. It stings a little bit.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to say as my heart dropped at his words.

Our conversation in the last two minutes did a rewind in my head and I saw where I could’ve kept my mouth shut.

If I were in his place, I wouldn’t really like being handed a runner-up because I couldn’t have Brandon. While I would appreciate the thought, I would rather be left alone to lick my wounds.

I bit my lip, lowering my head. “I’m sorry, Jake. I didn’t really think.”

He smiled weakly. “It’s alright. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gotten grumpy. You’re just doing what you always seem to do best—try to make everyone happy.”

I made a face. “Apparently, I suck at it.”

“No, you don’t,” he said with a soft laugh. “I’m just...”

I glanced at him, waiting for his next words nervously.

He bumped me gently on the arm as we walked, rounding the corner to the last hall that led to the ICU’s waiting room. “It’s just been a rough night for me, Char.”

“I know,” I said softly. “The fact that you’re here when you probably want to be long gone by now is proof of how good a person you are, Jake, which makes me feel even worse because I can’t make you happy the way you deserve to be.”

He raised a brow meaningfully. “If I’m only there for those who constantly make me happy, that doesn’t really make me a good person now, does it? I’m just merely returning the favor.”

I opened my mouth to answer but Francis suddenly popped up from around the corner, nearly colliding with us. 

His eyes narrowed at us. “Well, you two sure look cozy. Does Brandon share nowadays, Jake?”

“I would shut your mouth if I were you, Francis,” Jake growled next to me. 

“Why? Afraid of the big, bad Brandon?” Francis retorted, an unpleasant smile curling on his handsome face. “All these years and you’re still happily following him around like a loyal dog.”

I was honestly too stunned for a moment that I didn’t react at first as Francis’s taunts registered.

“That didn’t take long,” I blurted out, narrowing my eyes at the man. “Less than twenty-four hours and I’m quickly discovering my own reasons for not liking you.”

He scoffed at me. “What makes you think I care about you think, Charlotte? Aren’t gold-digging trophy wives supposed to just sit pretty and stay mute nowadays?”

I thrust my chin up defiantly. “Aren’t rambling idiots supposed to shut up before they dig themselves a deeper hole when they can barely climb out of the one they’re already in?”

Francis’s eyes narrowed into slits but before any of us could say anything more, a rush of raised voices came down the hallway behind him. 

“Brand, don’t.” Tessa sounded frantic as Brandon stormed in behind his cousin, his face contorted with anger. 

My heart started pounding hard. I've never seen Brandon this furious. He looked like he was going to tear Francis into pieces and eat him for lunch.

“Don’t you dare walk away like a coward, Francis!” he bellowed. His sisters were clustered around him, grabbing each of his arms as they tried to haul him back. 

Mattie, who’d gone on ahead of us and followed back out the throng of his older siblings who had obviously marched after their cousin down the hall, jumped out of his brother’s way, his eyes large and alarmed.

“I will walk away if I want to, Brand,” Francis sneered, turning around to face Brandon. “I don’t have to listen to your baseless accusations. I forget that you’re always more than happy to pin the blame on me but if you think I’m just going to keep putting up with it, you’re wrong.”

I glanced at Jake, who was now scowling deeply, and at the sisters who now looked stricken. The hostility between the two cousins was palpable in the air—if I’d walked straight into it, it would hit me in the face and leave a bruise.

“What the hell is going on here?” I demanded.