British Bedmate (A Series of Standalone Novels) Page 3

  “What’s going on, Bridget?”

  “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

  Waving my arm, I said, “Stay back, Brendan. There’s a mouse in the kitchen.”

  My son beamed. “Cool!”

  “No, not cool. Mommy won’t be able to sleep with a mouse in the house.” After spotting it running past me again, I pointed and squealed. “Oh my God, there it is.”

  I looked at Simon, who seemed really amused by my reaction.

  “I need you to catch it and kill it, Simon.”

  He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Per your request, I was supposed to be pretending I don’t live here…so perhaps, now would be a good time to disappear?”

  “Don’t you even think about it.”

  “I’m kidding. I’ll get it. But I’m not killing it. I’ll rescue it from this crazy kitchen and send it back into the wild.” He bent down. “If only I can find it.”

  Pointing, I said, “It was just in that corner a minute ago.” I looked around. “Oh, no. Where did it go? We have to find it.”

  Brendan pointed to under the table where I was standing. “Over there!”

  I closed my eyes and cringed at the thought. When I opened them, Simon was on the floor. He looked so funny crawling around with his long arms and legs.

  “I wasn’t expecting to play Tom and Jerry today.” When he stood up, his hair was disheveled. He was holding the mouse by the tail as its little arms and legs wiggled around aimlessly. “Got it! Come see, Brendan.” Simon then cupped the rodent as my son pet it. It was totally skeeving me out and warming my heart a bit at the same time.

  Brendan looked at me. “Can I keep it?”

  “No!”

  “Brendan, I think it’s best for your Mum’s sake if we set it free. Go grab your coat.”

  I watched from the window as Simon led Brendan to the wooded area behind our house. Simon knelt down, and I could see Brendan talking to the mouse and waving goodbye to it. Simon then rustled my son’s hair before they high-fived each other.

  I fought the tears forming in my eyes as the thought occurred to me that Brendan had really been missing a male influence in his life. He was only six when Ben was killed. He could barely remember his dad already.

  When they returned to the kitchen, Simon counted five singles then stuffed them into the swear jar labeled Mom.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Five dollars donated to Brendan’s cause for your S-word recited five times.” He turned to Brendan. “You might just get to keep that hair, after all.”

  Brendan looked over at me and smiled. “I want my hair to grow like Simon’s in the front.”

  I crossed my arms. “Great.”

  Simon bent his head back in laughter.

  After Brendan ran back to his room, I turned to Simon. “Thank you for helping with that. I definitely don’t do well with rodents.”

  “You don’t say?” He placed his hands on my shoulders in a firm grip. “You alright now?”

  My heart raced upon the brief contact. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m really glad you were home.”

  “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to yell.”

  I let out a breath. “It’s been two years, but I still haven’t fully adjusted to not having a man around to handle certain things. I’ve really tried my best, but clearly I would’ve totally failed at that one. Literally, I think it would have kept me up all night.”

  “I think you’re handling things just fine—way better than I would be, working the hours you do, then coming home to parent. Your son is a good kid. You’re doing a damn good job. But do you ever get to go out, make some time for yourself?”

  “Ha!” I laughed. “That would be a no.”

  “That’s not very healthy, Bridget.”

  “I know. But it’s tough. I pay a sitter to watch him while I’m working, so I hate to leave him when I don’t have to. It might be different when he’s a little older, but for now, I just have to make him my priority.”

  He leaned against the counter. “That’s commendable, but you also have to think about yourself and your sanity. You deserve a break once in a while.”

  “Have you been questioning my sanity?”

  “Maybe a tad.” He winked. “Seriously, though, when was the last time you’ve been out on a date?”

  It wasn’t difficult to figure out the answer. “I haven’t. I mean, Ben’s only been gone two years. I just haven’t felt ready.”

  Simon’s expression grew sullen. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Calliope…she told me, you know, what happened.”

  “Yeah, I really don’t like to talk about it.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  Simon seemed to be quietly observing me for a few seconds, and I was starting to feel hot.

  I didn’t know what came over me when I asked, “Would you want to have some tea with me?”

  He looked at his watch. “Shit. I’d really like to, but I’m supposed to meet someone in Providence in twenty minutes.”

  Trying to mask my disappointment, I said, “You said ‘shit.’ Money in the Brendan jar, please. Since you and he seem to be ganging up on me as far as the swear words go, it’s only fair that I get commission for your swears.”

  “You got me,” he said as he fetched a single from his wallet and placed it in the jar.

  “Are you going out with Brianna?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “The nurses’ station is basically a gossip den, Simon. You’d better be careful. You’re definitely on everyone’s radar. They talk about you a lot.”

  “Is that so?

  I was oddly feeling a bit protective of him.

  “Seriously, just be careful what you do. It will get around.”

  “Thanks for the fair warning, Nurse Valentine.”

  “Where are you going tonight?”

  “WaterFire. Apparently, it just opened for the season.”

  “Ah. I’ve never been there. Always meant to go but never got around to it. What is it like?”

  “It’s awesome. Picture like a hundred bonfires on the surface of the river in the middle of downtown. There’s music and performances. You really should see it sometime.”

  “Do you take all your dates there?”

  “It’s not always in season.”

  I’d always hoped to go with Ben.

  “Well, you’d better go, or you’ll be late.”

  He lingered at the doorway for a bit before he said, “Have a good night, Bridget.”

  “You, too.”

  As I stared out from the kitchen at the sun setting in my backyard, I once again felt myself getting teary-eyed. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why I was so emotional tonight. Was it because I missed Ben? Or was it because my jealousy over Simon’s date meant that I was finally starting to move on? I wasn’t sure, but I somehow felt happy, hopeful, and terribly sad all at the same time.

  Brianna and I strolled along the river walk surrounded by the flames of WaterFire. It was a breezy May evening in Providence, and her long, black hair was blowing around into her face. At one point, I stopped to take some video footage of the flickering lights before we continued walking.

  As she was talking my ear off, I was zoning out. I couldn’t stop thinking about Bridget, about the sadness in her eyes earlier when we were talking about her husband. I couldn’t imagine having to endure that kind of tragedy at such a young age. I also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I had refused her offer to have tea. Just when she finally seemed to be warming up to me, I had to leave.

  Brianna was only twenty-three and definitely not looking for anything serious. It was exactly why I’d pursued her. We’d had sex one time, and while it was good, I couldn’t help wanting to find a way to get out of going back to her apartment tonight. I just wasn’t into being with her right now, and I couldn’t figure out why.

  I didn’t want to admit that maybe it had something to do with a certain widow, because that would ha
ve been dangerous. As curious as I was about Bridget Valentine, I couldn’t do anything more than just fancy her. She was someone’s mum, for Christ’s sake. You don’t mess with that. I’d be leaving town in a matter of months when my residency ended. So, the only women safe enough to date were those I was certain weren’t looking for anything more than a casual fling.

  Brianna turned to me. “Dr. Hogue, did you even hear what I said?”

  “Huh?”

  She liked calling me Dr. Hogue instead of Simon. It might have been cute while we were screwing, but it was starting to annoy me.

  She continued, “I was saying we should try this new bar that opened on Wickenden. It’s right around the corner from my apartment.”

  I knew she assumed I’d be going back to her place. But I really didn’t want to.

  “Actually, I have an early morning appointment. So, unfortunately, I have to head back to my apartment.”

  “Aw, you suck, Dr. Hogue.” She giggled. “Just kidding…I still love you,” she teased as she wrapped her arms around my neck and reached up to kiss me.

  After dropping Brianna off at the bar where she planned to meet up with some friends, I drove over the bridge back to our sleepy suburb.

  As I passed the white church with its high steeple near the center of town, I was reminded of how nice it was to be able to escape the city yet still live close enough to enjoy it when I wanted. We lived on a peninsula and were surrounded by water.

  When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed that Bridget’s living room light was still on. Although I knew she liked her privacy, I wondered if she might be up for a late tea. I could show her the videos of WaterFire I’d taken. After all, if I was being honest, I took that footage for her, because she said she’d never had the chance to go.

  I’d had a bag of leftover chicken dinner sitting on the passenger seat. It was lined in aluminum to keep the food warm and had roosters all over the exterior of the bag. The restaurant we’d gone to was known for serving fifty different varieties of chicken. The meal was delicious, but they’d given me way too much food. Maybe she would want some.

  Ringing the doorbell might have woken Brendan, so I opted not to.

  While I had a key to the entrance of my studio apartment, I didn’t have a key to the main house. Even though I could access Bridget’s kitchen from a set of stairs in my space, I opted to knock on her window.

  She’d been reading on the couch and jumped up to let me in.

  When she opened, I lifted the bag of chicken. “Care for some cock?”

  “Wow. Does it taste as good as it looks?” Bridget bent over the oven to remove the tray of food she’d popped in to reheat. She was wearing thin, little shorts, and I swallowed finding myself mulling over the question inappropriately. I cleared my throat and forced my eyes from her ass.

  “Even better, actually.”

  She removed the oven mitts and grabbed two plates from the cabinet. “Will you join me? I hate to eat alone.”

  Of course, I’d already had my meal earlier. But I could almost always eat. “Sure.” I walked to the refrigerator. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Actually, I’d love some wine. There’s an unopened bottle in the door. I don’t get to drink too often because I make it a rule to never drink alone. After…the accident, there were a few tough months that I started to do that, and I realized it would be very easy to make it a daily habit with no one to answer to. So I made it a rule to only drink with others.”

  “I suppose that’s a good rule.” I didn’t drink often either, but that was more for a lack of time and a lack of tolerance for feeling like shit while working a twenty-hour shift. I removed the Sauvignon blanc from the refrigerator and rummaged through a drawer until I found a corkscrew. It opened with a loud pop that made Bridget smile.

  “I love that sound,” she said. “I don’t know why.”

  I poured two glasses, and Bridget asked if I would mind eating in the living room on the coffee table because Brendan was a light sleeper and would hear us less in there. She set the plates on the table, and I brought our wine glasses, as well as the bottle.

  When I’d knocked and nearly scared the crap out of her a few minutes earlier, she’d been reading, so I picked up her book. “And what are we reading here?”

  Bridget practically lunged at me to grab the book out of my hand, which only served to make me even more curious. I held it above my head, out of her reach. “It seems like you don’t want me to see what you’re reading.”

  “Give me my book.”

  I smirked. “Reach it.”

  Bridget was tiny. I’d guess a good foot shorter than me. There was no way she was reaching the book, even if she jumped.

  Her hands went to her hips. “Simon Hogue. Give me my book or else.”

  “Or else, what?”

  “Or else…so help me, I’ll climb you like a tree and get that book myself.”

  Maybe I should have gone home with Brianna and gotten my fill…because I sort of fancied the thought of Bridget climbing me like a tree. “You’re welcome to climb me, luv, but be careful, some trees have thick wooden branches and you could get poked.”

  Her face pinked, and I wasn’t sure if it was from my lewd comment or if she was pissed. Either way, it worked for me apparently, because I felt a twitch in my pants. Afraid I might be having a twelve-year-old boy uncontrollable reaction, I thought it best to give in sooner, rather than later. “Here you go. I was only screwing around.”

  Bridget snatched the book out of my hands and shoved it into the drawer of an end table.

  “What’s so private that I can’t read it, anyway? Are you reading porn?”

  Her already pink face turned a deep crimson. I’d hit the nail on the head.

  “It’s not porn. It’s a romance novel.”

  “That you get off to.”

  Her eyes widened.

  I shrugged. “What’s the big deal? I like porn. Have myself a decent collection if you ever want to share. Maybe I can borrow your book, and you can borrow my DVDs. I’ll even wipe ‘em off before I give ‘em to you.”

  She added a scrunched up nose to those eyes that were already saucers. “Please, tell me you’re joking?”

  “About the DVDs? Yes.”

  She looked relieved, so I clarified what I’d meant. “It’s the new millennium. No one buys porn on DVD anymore. It’s all on my MacBook from downloads.”

  Bridget shook her head and sat down on the floor. “I think I need that wine now.”

  I had to move the table out a bit to be able to fit between the couch and the coffee table, but once I sat down, it felt good to stretch out my legs. Bridget plated us food, and the chicken tasted even better the second time.

  “Mmmm. This is so good,” she said.

  “I’ll bring you home my leftover cock from now on.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Must you do that? Always make everything a sexual innuendo.”

  “It’s just so hard not to when you like my sexy talk so much.”

  I caught her smirk before she shoveled her mouth full of my cock. God, I need to stop even thinking about that. I pretended to make myself more comfortable but I was really discreetly adjusting my jeans that were growing snug in the crotch.

  Bridget sipped her wine to wash down the chicken. “So, why are you home so early. I figured you’d…you know…be with Brianna for a while.”

  “Are you saying you thought I’d be getting laid right now? You just assume I’m easy and put out on the second date?”

  She squinted. “You’re so full of shit.”

  I leaned in with a big goofy grin. “You owe the jar a quarter.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “But you like me anyway.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Why am I home so early?”

  She nodded.

  I debated my answer, just like I’d done for the entire drive home. Scratching my chin, I sa
id, “Let me ask you something first. If you could pick any animal to be, what would you select?”

  Rightly, Bridget looked at me funny. “I don’t know. Off the top of my head, I guess a stallion.”

  “Why a stallion?”

  “Because they’re strong, wild, and free.”

  I nodded. “Good answer.”

  “What would you pick?”

  “A lion. Because they’re king of the jungle, of course.” I brushed back my hair that still needed a haircut and winked. “Plus. They have a good mane.”

  Bridget laughed. “Figures.”

  “Wanna know what Brianna said when I asked her?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “She said a Pomeranian.”

  “The little dog?”

  Bridget’s wine glass was empty, so I refilled it. “Yep. And before you ask, her logic was because it’s so cute.”

  “So it’s not the most well thought out answer, but you cut your date short because of that?”

  “Just wasn’t feeling it, I guess. So it didn’t feel right to feel it. If you know what I mean.”

  “You’re bizarre, Simon Hogue, you know that?”

  “I’m glad you said stallion, or I might have had to move out.”

  Bridget and I sat in the living room and polished off the chicken and almost a full bottle of wine—most of it consumed by her. I realized she was starting to get tipsy when she loosened up a bit.

  “Let me ask you something.” She pointed her wine glass at me and nearly spilled it. “Have you ever done online dating?”

  “You mean like Match.com?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  She sighed. “You probably don’t have to. You’re…” She waved her hand up and down at me. “Tall and all hot and stuff. And you’re a doctor.”

  “You think I’m hot?” I smirked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t have to use Match to get a date. What was I thinking? You probably just snap your fingers like Fonzie and the girls come flocking.”

  “Who?”

  “Am I that much older than you? Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

  “Alright. But are you really thinking of joining an online dating site?”