Playing with Seduction Page 12

  “You must be Brianna.” A wide grin spread across the woman’s face. She was a beautiful older woman who seemed far too young to be Wesley’s mother. “I’m Lena Adams. Wes stepped out to talk to someone about finally letting me out of this place. He told me to expect you. He didn’t say you’d be bearing gifts.”

  Bree sighed in relief. The woman’s warm, welcoming demeanor put her at ease. “I walked past the gift shop and they were so beautiful. I couldn’t resist. I hope you like them.”

  “Like them? Honey, this bouquet is stunning. How thoughtful. Thank you.” She accepted the crystal vase and inhaled the flowers before setting them on the nightstand beside her bed. She indicated a nearby chair. “Please, have a seat.”

  Bree sat in the chair, suddenly conscious of whether Mrs. Adams would think her blouse was cut too low or her jeans were too tight.

  Relax. You’re not his girlfriend.

  “Speaking of beauty, you’re even more stunning in person.” Mrs. Adams grinned.

  “Thank you.” Bree’s cheeks warmed. “Do you follow beach volleyball, Mrs. Adams?”

  “Only during the Olympics. But I’ve seen you in at least a dozen commercials over the years.” Excitement lit the older woman’s eyes. “And call me Lena, please.”

  “Someone will be along shortly to complete your discharge.” Wesley’s tall frame filled the doorway. His eyes met Bree’s for a moment before he turned them back to his mother. “I see you’ve met Bree.”

  “I have. You didn’t tell me that she was as sweet as she is beautiful. Look what she brought me.” Lena nodded toward the flowers.

  “Thank you, Bree.” Wes studied the expensive flower arrangement, then turned toward her. His expression was a mixture of gratitude and suspicion. “They’re lovely.”

  Bree clasped her hands, her eyes roaming anywhere in the room except Wesley or his mother. The elegant bouquet of red roses and orange Asiatic lilies was an expensive gift to a woman she’d never met. But they were beautiful and Wes had said how much his mother enjoyed gardening. So she thought Lena would appreciate them. She hadn’t given any thought to the message her gift was sending...until now.

  “Yes, they are.” Lena emphasized the words as she eyed her son sternly. She returned her warm grin to Bree. “I hope you’ll join us at the house for lunch, Brianna. It won’t take me long to throw something together. We’ll just need to make a quick stop at the grocery store.” She turned to Wes.

  He frowned, his arms crossed. “The doctor made it very clear that you should get some rest and stay off your feet as much as possible.”

  “Relax. It’ll be fine.” She squeezed his arm, then turned to her. “Brianna?”

  “I’d love to join you for lunch, but Wes is right. You should be resting. So why don’t you let me fix lunch for you?”

  Lena’s eyes lit up and her smile widened. “That’s so thoughtful, Brianna. But I can imagine how busy you must be. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. It’d be my pleasure.”

  “Then we have a date.”

  The attendant arrived and helped Lena into a wheelchair. They followed the attendant down the hall as he pushed Wes’s mother and they chatted.

  “Look, Bree, I appreciate your willingness to come here and the flowers...but you don’t have to fix lunch. I can pick up something that’s already prepared.” His voice was hushed.

  “Are you afraid to eat my cooking?” Bree teased, hoping to lighten his mood.

  Wes held back a smirk. “Should I be?”

  “Probably.” Bree smiled. “Actual cooking isn’t my gift. But, I can assemble a mean chicken salad. Don’t worry. I’ll pick up a rotisserie at the grocery store.”

  “Bree.” He grabbed her arm, stopping her, so that their eyes met. Wes sighed. “I just want to make sure you understand that nothing has changed between us. We’re still just business associates and friends—”

  “With benefits.” Bree narrowed her gaze, her chin tipped so her eyes met his. “You were crystal clear about that. I’m not an idiot, and I’m not trying to get to you through your mother—if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Wes’s stare signaled that he didn’t buy her story.

  “I got the flowers because they were pretty. I thought your mother would like them. I offered to make lunch because it was clear that if I didn’t, she was going to insist on making lunch for us. And because she seems sweet. And I like her. But if you don’t want me to have lunch with your mother, fine. I’ll rent a car and head back.”

  “No. Don’t. I’m sorry. I’m usually not so ungrateful. I swear.” Wes rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you for the flowers and for offering to make lunch. Maybe you can distract her while I move her bed downstairs. Otherwise, she’d insist on helping me.”

  Bree nodded and fell back in step with Wes as they caught up with the attendant and his mother.

  Her cheeks flamed and a knot tightened in her gut. She hadn’t been completely honest with Wesley. She wasn’t actively pursuing Wes through his mother, but she wanted very much for Lena Adams to like her.

  * * *

  Wes finished the last bite of his second helping of Bree’s cranberry-walnut chicken salad served on warm, fresh, buttery croissants from the local bakery. So maybe Bree couldn’t cook, but she could assemble a damn tasty meal.

  He’d wanted to get started on rearranging the house while Bree fixed lunch, but his mother had insisted he sit down with them until his cousin Dallas could come over and give him a hand with moving her bed. Though she didn’t much like the idea of moving her bed downstairs, even temporarily.

  “I know you’re worried, son, but I still think you’re making too big of a deal about this. I fell. Accidents happen. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

  “You can’t trudge up and down those steps in an air cast.” He lowered his voice. “Not in your condition.”

  “I was recently diagnosed with Parkinson’s,” his mother explained to Bree, then turned her attention back to him. “There’s a banister. Besides, it’s not as if I can’t put any pressure on the foot. And I need my stuff. You don’t plan to bring my entire bedroom down, do you?”

  Bree excused herself and left the kitchen as he and his mother continued to debate the topic. It was one argument Lena Adams wouldn’t win. She was going to sleep on the ground floor, whether she liked it or not.

  “Excuse me.” Bree returned a few minutes later, smiling. “But I think I might have a solution that’ll satisfy you both.”

  “I’m all ears.” His mother gave Bree her attention.

  “By all means.” Wes gestured for her to continue.

  She asked them to follow her to the front of the house.

  “Your kitchen has ample eating space, but you also have a formal dining room, which it seems you don’t use much.” Bree indicated the piles of papers and books that had accumulated on his mother’s table again since his last cleaning.

  “Point taken.” His mother chuckled. “Go on.”

  “Well, it’s such a lovely space. It’s a shame you don’t get more use out of it. The room is spacious and the pretty bay window faces that lovely little park across the street.”

  His mother nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a sizable room and it does have a beautiful view. But it doesn’t have a door and it’s right at the entrance. Visitors will have full view of my bedroom.”

  “That’s a simple fix.” Bree’s eyes lit up. “You could add a wall here and put in a door.”

  “What happens if she decides to sell the house? Not everyone will want a first-floor bedroom in lieu of a formal dining room.” Wes appreciated what Bree was trying to do, but he had to be practical. He wanted his mother to be comfortable, but they couldn’t ruin the resale value of the house.

  “A valid poi
nt.” Bree tilted her head, her chin resting on her fist for a moment. She snapped her fingers. “Add a pretty set of French doors instead of a traditional door.”

  “Guests would still be able to see into my bedroom.”

  “Not if you mount thick curtains on the door.” Bree’s gaze shifted from his mother, then to him, and back again.

  A wide smile spread across his mother’s face, her eyes dancing. “That’s a brilliant idea, Brianna. My nephew Dallas is a contractor. He mentioned yesterday that the job they were supposed to work on for the next few days got rescheduled. Maybe he can squeeze me in. He’ll be here soon, but I’m going to call him now, so he can give his crew plenty of notice. Besides, I don’t want him to give someone else my spot.”

  “You object?” Bree asked when his mother left the room.

  “No. Seems you have everything figured out.”

  “Why do I have the feeling we’re not talking about the plans to relocate your mother’s bedroom anymore?” Bree stepped closer.

  Her sweet, citrusy scent—like mandarin oranges and orange blossoms—filled his nostrils. The two nights they’d spent together in Asheville rushed to mind with a vivid clarity. A knot tightened low in his belly. His heartbeat quickened and his temperature rose as he recalled the way her brown skin glowed in the moonlight. It took every ounce of willpower he could muster to refrain from leaning down and kissing her soft, glossy lips.

  Bree seemed to relish her power over him, and the fact that with his mother just a few feet away, he was forced to keep his hands to himself.

  Pure torture.

  “Dallas says he can have his crew here in the morning.” His mother returned, saving him from the need to respond to Bree’s statement. “He’ll be here soon to take measurements. The job should only take a couple of days.”

  “We still need to move your bed downstairs for now.” Wes folded his arms.

  “Not necessary. I can sleep right here.” His mother patted the sofa she was seated on.

  “That thing is hard as a rock. I know.” Wes clutched his back as he remembered the last time he’d crammed his long frame onto the uncomfortable pull-out sofa.

  “I’m half a foot shorter than you, so I think I’ll be all right.” She held up her open hand when Wes objected. “This is my compromise. Take it or leave it.”

  “Fine.” Wes blew out an exasperated breath. “But don’t complain when your back muscles are as stiff as bricks.”

  “Deal.” She indicated that he should kiss her on the cheek.

  He did, then sat beside her, draping an arm over her shoulder. “You’ve eaten and Dallas will be here shortly. This is a good time for me to take Bree back to Pleasure Cove.”

  “What a shame.” His mother frowned. “I was hoping she’d be here to see the finished result of her idea. Besides, I could use her help decorating the new room.”

  “Bree’s a busy woman. She doesn’t have time to hang out here and play interior decorator.” Wesley’s shoulders tensed.

  “Actually, since the rest of our trip is canceled, I don’t have anything planned for the next couple of days.” Bree smiled at his mother, her eyes not meeting his. “I’d love to help.”

  Wes turned to his mother, who was as excited as a kid at Christmas. If it made his mom happy and Bree didn’t object, why should he?

  They’d shared a bed for two nights. Surely he could deal with her being at his mother’s house for two days.

  “You sure about this?” Wes gave Bree one last out.

  “Positive.” Bree grinned. “This will be fun.”

  Between his mother and Bree, Wes didn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter 15

  Lena Adams was an indomitable spitfire who wouldn’t allow minor inconveniences like a fractured ankle or a sprained wrist to keep her from cooking a full meal for her guests. Bree was sure that if she hadn’t insisted on helping the woman, Lena would’ve soldiered through the entire process herself.

  She admired Lena’s drive and determination, traits her son had obviously inherited.

  In the course of an afternoon helping Lena prepare a three-course meal, Bree had doubled her cooking repertoire.

  Bree stole another glance out of the kitchen window at Wes working in his mother’s backyard. It was the end of winter, yet the North Carolina sunshine beat down overhead, making the already mild temperature feel considerably warmer. Wes had stripped off his T-shirt. The deep brown skin of his bare back and chest glistened with sweat. His black athletic shorts hung low on his hips.

  Bree swallowed hard, then sunk her teeth into her lower lip. Her cheeks warmed and a sudden burst of heat crept down her torso and sank low in her belly.

  Lena chuckled.

  Shaken from her temporary haze, Bree returned to her work of dicing more potatoes for the potato salad.

  “Business associates, eh?” The woman could hardly hold back her laughter. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  Bree froze for a moment, unsure how to answer her.

  “Don’t know whether you two are trying to pull the wool over my eyes or your own, but in either case, it ain’t working.”

  “I hate to disappoint you, Ms. Lena.” Bree emptied the rest of the diced potatoes in a pot of water on the stove, then washed her hands. “But we really are business associates and friends.”

  “I hope that isn’t true.” Lena had a sad smile as she poured two icy glasses of syrupy sweet tea. She handed them to Bree. “It’s obvious to anyone with one eye and half a brain that you two are into each other.”

  “Wes isn’t looking for a relationship. He’s made that abundantly clear.” Bree’s gaze drifted back to Wes outside. “Neither am I.”

  “Sometimes we don’t know what we want until the situation presents itself.” Lena nodded toward Wes. “My boys mean everything to me. But before Wes came along, I was set on a very different life. One that didn’t include children or a stable home. I was terribly wrong because being their mother is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Bree’s chest ached and tears stung her eyes. It was clear why Wes loved his mother so much.

  “I wish my birth mother felt the same way about me.” Bree said the words before she could stop herself.

  Her adoptive mother loved her with all her heart. She was grateful for that. Still, she couldn’t shake the deep-rooted pain over her birth mother’s inability to muster the slightest maternal affection toward her. The woman had two other children, whom she doted on, so clearly she possessed the capacity for maternal feelings. Evidently, Bree wasn’t worthy of them.

  “If she doesn’t, she’s either misguided or a fool.” Lena squeezed Bree’s arm. The woman’s words were filled with indignation, but her tone and expression were filled with compassion. “Any woman would be grateful to have a daughter as kind and thoughtful as you.”

  Bree blinked back tears as she forced a smile. “Thanks.”

  Lena glanced out at Wes again. “He’s probably dehydrated and doesn’t even realize it. He gets so focused on the task ahead of him that he sometimes forgets how important it is to stop and take care of himself.”

  She dipped a towel into a bowl of icy water, wrung it, then draped the cool cloth over Bree’s arm. Lena propped open the screen door and nodded toward Wes.

  Bree made her way to the garden, where Wes had been working for the past few hours.

  “Your mom thought you might like these.” She handed him a glass of sweet tea and the cool towel.

  He thanked her, then mopped his brow with the towel before hanging it around his neck and nearly draining the glass of tea.

  “Your mom was worried you might be getting dehydrated. I can get another glass, if you’d like.” She turned to go back to the house, but Wes caught her elbow.

  “Than
k you. For everything.” He stared at her with a heated gaze that lit a flame inside of her and caused her breath to come in quick, shallow bursts. “I know you have better things to do with your time, but you’ve been great with my mom. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”

  “I’m enjoying my time with her. Besides, she’s taught me a lot today.” Bree glanced over her shoulder toward the house and saw the kitchen curtains stir. She eased her arm from his grip and took a step back.

  “What’s wrong?” Wes narrowed his gaze.

  “Your mom is convinced there’s something going on between us. I don’t want to add fuel to the fire.” She took a sip of her tea.

  “I’ll bet.” Wes chuckled. “My mother seems genuinely taken with you, and she isn’t an easy woman to impress.”

  “She doesn’t strike me as a volleyball fan.”

  “It’s not about what you do. If she’s impressed, it’s because of who you are. For her, it’s all about character. The person you are when no one else is around.” Wes frowned, his voice fading at the end.

  Bree wanted to ask him if he was all right, but before she could he’d thrust his empty glass into her outstretched hand.

  “It was kind of you to offer to stay tonight, but I really don’t mind taking you back to Pleasure Cove. And don’t worry about my mother, she’ll understand. I promise.”

  “No.” Bree shook her head, then smiled. “I’m enjoying my time with her. And you.” Her eyes met his heated stare. “I want to stay. Unless it’s uncomfortable for you. My being here, I mean.”

  Wes leaned against the metal rake, still sizing her up, but not responding right away. The awkward silence stretched on between them for what felt like forever before he finally shrugged. “It’s...different. Been a while since I brought a girl home. For any reason. So I’m not surprised that my mother is trying to make something bigger out of this. I hope she hasn’t made you uncomfortable.”