Wednesday Nights With Jamie Read online

  “Sonuvabitch!” she growled as she kicked again. “This can’t be happening. What am I going to do?” Panicked, her breath came in staccato spurts.

  Jamie grabbed her by the wrist and led her to his car. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

  “Thank you so much.” Scooting into the passenger side of his cushy luxury sedan, Lyla swallowed the small whoop of delight exploding up from her belly as she breathed in his scent. “Dawn’s in labor, Jamie, we’ve got to get there fast. She’s just a few blocks from here.”

  “Maybe we should call an ambulance,” Jamie offered.

  “Uh-uh.” Lyla huffed a laugh. “My sister would hate arriving at the hospital in an ambulance to have her firstborn. It smacks a bit too much of our mother’s style—Mom has a passion for making a big to-do over everything. Dawn would rather have the baby in the car than go that route.”

  Jamie shot her an anxious look. “Thanks for that reassuring fact.”

  Lyla rattled off Dawn’s address as Jamie maneuvered his car out of the parking lot. Glimpsing his strong, decidedly masculine profile as he drove, Lyla didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. If this had been any other time, everything inside of her would have been hot, wet and throbbing with excitement—well, either that or she would have been passed out cold on the car seat from a serious case of nervousness and rapid heart palpitations. Jamie was so damned delicious-looking it made her salivate just to hear his name. Sitting next to him in close quarters was a whole different situation. She was briskly aware of every inch of his sizeable masculine presence. Casting a surreptitious glance at his lap, she couldn’t help wondering about the treasure hidden beneath his pants. Realizing her gaze lingered a moment too long, she looked up at Jamie, hoping he hadn’t caught her checking out his crotch. Fortunately he was still looking straight ahead. Breathing in his clean scent again as she tried to settle her anxiety did little to calm her nerves.

  She’d rarely even seen Jamie crack a smile, and certainly not a full-fledged one like the one he’d given her a few minutes ago when she barreled into him. That, of course, was another mark against her. Dozens of times she imagined herself sauntering toward him with the languid grace of a cat, impressing the pricey, made-to-order pants off him with the gentle sway of her well-padded hips. And what did she do? Plowed into him with all the poise and femininity of a freight train. Well, at least she’d made him smile. No doubt he’d remember her fondly as the big klutz who had amused him with her complete lack of daintiness.

  True to her expectations, Jamie didn’t bother to engage in any small talk as they drove to her sister’s house. It was just as well. She doubted that she would have been able to hold up her end of the conversation anyway. Between worrying about Dawn and suppressing inappropriate images of pleasuring herself with Jamie-2, Lyla was reasonably certain she couldn’t pull off being a brilliant conversationalist at the moment. You know, I’m scared shitless about my sister, Jamie, oh and by the way, I fantasy fuck you every Wednesday night. Nope. That probably wouldn’t pass as polite conversation.

  “I really appreciate this, Jamie,” she said, feeling compelled to at least say something halfway intelligent. “I promised my brother-in-law that I’d be there with Dawn if the baby came while he was away.”

  “Glad to help,” Jamie said in a crisp, professional manner without taking his eyes from the road. She hadn’t expected him to be quite so wooden, but it was probably for the best. If Jamie had acted warm and human with her she’d be in danger of yanking down his zipper and introducing herself to his cock—which meant she’d have to flee Macklin Real Estate for parts unknown because she’d never be able to face the man again.

  “There,” Lyla said pointing anxiously, “third house from the left. The one with the red door.” As she got out of the car she prayed that putting some distance between herself and the object of her innermost desires might bring her to the point where she was actually focusing on her poor sister’s predicament rather than thoughts of humping her broker.

  After racing up the walk with Jamie at her side—he’d insisted on coming in just in case Dawn couldn’t walk on her own—Lyla used her key to let herself and Jamie into the house.

  “Dawn? Dawn, where are you?”

  “In here, Lyla,” her sister called between grunts.

  “Oh God. Oh hell. Oh shit. She’s having the baby!” Lyla screeched.

  Jamie followed her into the kitchen where they found Dawn grunting as she vigorously scrubbed the top of her stove.

  Her jaw dropping, Lyla gasped. “Dawn! What in the hell do you think you’re doing? Jesus, with all that grunting I pictured you writhing on the floor with the baby’s head poking halfway out.”

  Dawn laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic. I just wanted to tidy up a bit before I left.”

  “Tidy up? Jesus, Dawn! How far apart are your contractions?” Lyla asked, not even sure what the answer would mean. It just sounded like the right thing to ask. “Should we be calling an ambulance?”

  Dawn turned to face her sister and Jamie. Her stomach was so big Lyla was afraid it was about to explode. “Sheesh! Will you please relax? They’re five or six minutes apart. And you know damn well I don’t want to go in an ambulance.” She offered a sly smile as she gave Jamie a thorough appraisal. “Who’s this?”

  “Jamie Donlon, Macklin’s new owner. I had a flat tire and he was kind enough to drive me.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dawn.” Jamie crossed the kitchen and extended his hand.

  “Oh sure,” Dawn said through a wide grin as she pumped his hand. “The new owner. I remember you telling me about him, Lyla. He’s the one—”

  “Uh-uh, no you don’t, missy,” Lyla cut her off. Far too familiar with her sister’s big blabbermouth tendencies, Lyla took control before Dawn had a chance to embarrass the hell out of her. She wagged a chastising finger at Dawn. “Don’t try changing the subject. I know you’re Mrs. Clean and all, but this is beyond ridiculous. When you’ve got a belly that looks as if it’s about to burst, that’s most definitely not the time to be scrubbing down your kitchen.” She walked over to her bulging sister, snatched the wet cloth from her hand and tossed it into the sink. “Are you insane? You should be relaxing, sprawled out on the couch watching Oprah and feeding your face with bonbons.”

  “Oh come on, Lyla.” Dawn gave a dismissive wave, laughing as she retrieved a dust cloth from her pocket and wiped the copper teapot on the back burner of the stove. “Don’t be such an old worrywart. I’m fine. I’m just having a baby for heaven’s sake. People do it every day.” She paused, smiling a moment before pointing a finger at Lyla. “You know, sis, this is scary. You’re starting to sound just like Mom.”

  “Mom!” Lyla grabbed her throat, gaping in mock horror. “Oh good grief—shoot me now.”

  “Your sister’s right,” Jamie said, removing the dust cloth from Dawn’s hand and escorting her to a chair. “You need to conserve your strength for the delivery.”

  After plunking her ample girth awkwardly in the chair, Dawn gave Jamie another once-over and grinned. “You’re right, Lyla, your new broker is a handsome hunk. And smart too.”

  Aaaccckkk!

  Bug-eyed, Lyla slapped her hand against her chest and gasped. She did not just hear her sister say that…did she? Horrified beyond belief, she motioned for her motor-mouth sister to keep quiet, but the primed-to-split-open Dawn persisted.

  “Keeping secrets from your sister is very naughty, Lyla. I didn’t know you and Jamie were seeing each other. He’s a much better choice than Charlie Martensen.”

  “No, Dawn, we are not seeing each other.” Gritting her teeth, Lyla scrunched her features and made a silent shushing motion. “I told you, Mr. Donlon is my broker. That would be kind of like my boss, Dawn.” She hoped she had gotten her point across to her sister. There was absolutely no way in hell she was going to look over at Jamie. No. Uh-uh. She didn’t even want to imagine what the man must be thinking of her now. She scanned the kitchen floor hoping to find a cr
ack large enough to crawl into and hide for the rest of her natural-born days.

  After what Lyla determined to be an uncomfortably long pause, Jamie turned to her. She could feel it, sense it. Glancing at him, she waited for him to open his mouth but he just stood there looking at her until she started to wonder if she’d sprouted a third eye.

  Finally, Jamie arched an eyebrow and said, “You and Martensen? I didn’t realize you two were an item.”

  “No…no, nothing like that.” Lyla flicked her hand and shook her head. “Charlie and I just had a few lunches and dinner a couple of times, that’s all.” Jamie’s brow arched higher. “Okay, maybe drinks once or twice. Really,” Lyla stressed, “that’s all.” She didn’t know why she felt compelled to explain anything whatsoever to Jamie. After all, fantasy lover or not, it really wasn’t any of his business. But her flapping jaws just sort of seemed to take on a life of their own. “It happened after Charlie and I closed on our joint sale, the Sutford property over on Water Street. He suggested we go to dinner to celebrate and—”

  “Ahem. Just dinner? Not exactly,” Dawn interrupted with a wink. “From what Lyla told me, Jamie, Charlie the octopus wanted her for dessert. That man just wouldn’t take no for an answer, right, Lyla?”

  “Dawn—” Lyla began.

  “He wanted in her pants bad. And when he drank, the guy was really an obnoxious shit,” Dawn continued. “Remember that night you had to call David to come get you after you ran out of Charlie’s car?”

  If she had the guts to sneak another peek in Jamie’s direction right now, Lyla felt certain he’d be giving her that hunting-for-a-third-eye look again. She rolled her eyes skyward, mouthing a silent appeal. “Gee, Dawn, do you think maybe we can talk about something else—like maybe getting you to the hospital for instance, hmm?”

  “Is this your suitcase?” Jamie asked, lifting a small bag from a kitchen chair.

  Lyla almost thought she detected muffled laughter in his voice. Swell. Just swell. If it weren’t for the fact that her busybody sister was carrying Lyla’s new niece or nephew, Lyla would have grabbed Dawn in a headlock and whapped her upside the head with the copper teapot.

  “Yup. I’m all packed and ready to go. Hey, Lyla, do me a favor and call Mom when we get to the hospital, will you?”

  “What!?”

  “Please? She’ll be pissed as hell if I don’t let her know I’ve gone into labor.”

  “Aw, come on, Dawn.” Lyla felt her expression morph into something akin to that of a child who’d just been told they were having liver and spinach for dinner. “Can’t we just pretend we forgot to call her? I mean, this is Mom we’re talking about, remember? Do you honestly think you’re in any condition to deal with her right now, especially without David here to run interference? Don’t you want the day your baby is born to be a happy one?”

  “My point exactly.” Dawn tossed a devilish wink. “That’s why I didn’t call her myself. I knew she’d run right over here and irritate the hell out of me. This way, all I’ll have to do is go through the excruciating pains of labor in the delivery room—leaving you, my dear, sweet, loyal, loving sister, to go through the mind-numbing pain of dealing with our dear, sweet mother.” She flashed a wide grin.

  “Totally unfair. You get the easy part. I’d trade in a heartbeat,” Lyla said with a smirk.

  Seemingly amused at the sisters’ exchange, Jamie cracked a half-smile. “I take it your mother can be a bit difficult.”

  “Difficult?” the sisters chorused.

  “Hah!” Dawn barked. “Our mother is domineering, disapproving, intimidating, narrow-minded,” Dawn counted off on her fingers, “and that’s just her good side. The woman’s a royal pain in the ass. You’d never believe the embarrassment she’s put us through, Jamie, because it would sound like something out of a bad Joan Crawford movie. We’re talking major cringe time.”

  Lyla’s hand flew to her forehead as she affected a long-suffering expression. “Through three crumbling marriages I struggled and sacrificed to raise you two girls,” she moaned in a dramatic spot-on impersonation of their mother. “With nary a thought for myself. You’d think I’d get just a nugget of gratitude in return, but no, all you can do is think about yourselves. If it wasn’t for—”

  “If it wasn’t for me,” Dawn cut in with the next line, “you would have been out on the street, and—”

  “And don’t you ever forget it,” Lyla finished their mother’s oft-repeated admonishment. The sisters laughed.

  “Ah.” Jamie nodded with a knowing smile. “I think I get the picture.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Lyla nodded. “I don’t think there’s any chance of us ever forgetting what ingrates we are. After all, Mom makes a point of reminding us at least once a week, right, Dawn?”

  “At least.”

  “Hate to say it,” Jamie noted, “but it sounds a bit like my own mother. She’s a good woman but fierce enough to singe somebody’s hair with nothing more than a quick glance.”

  “Believe me, Jamie,” Lyla said, chuckling, “your mother is probably like the Good Witch of the North compared to ours.”

  “She’s right, Jamie. They broke the mold when they made our mother. You know, on second thought it’s probably best that David’s out of town for this,” Dawn said, chuckling as she grasped her belly. “Because, I swear to God, without me up and around to intervene he’d probably wrap his hands around Mom’s throat and—” In the middle of forming her next word, Dawn’s features froze. “Oh. Oh! Oooooogh!” she shrieked, cradling her midsection. “This is it, guys. They’re coming about two minutes apart now. We’ve got to go to the hospital. Now!”

  Exchanging wide-eyed gapes, Jamie and Lyla gathered the suitcase and Dawn’s purse before supporting the pregnant woman as she waddled to the car.

  “Do whatever breaths you’re supposed to do and make sure you hold it in until we get there,” Lyla ordered. “The baby,” she clarified, “not the breaths.”

  Dawn laughed. “Damn you, Lyla, now’s not the time to make me laugh. Oooooh!” Dawn panted. “Dawson Community Hospital,” she instructed through a series of wheezing sounds. “Know where it is?”

  “Yeah,” Jamie said, clearly more than a bit rattled. “Just off the freeway. Think you can hold out until we get there, Dawn?” He turned to her with a bright, hopeful smile. “Please say yes.”

  Even in the midst of all the commotion, Lyla’s heart did a little flip-flop when she glimpsed his smile.

  “I’ll do my best. Ooooooh!” Her smile quickly transforming into a twisted expression of distress, Dawn let out another bloodcurdling shriek, followed by a string of colorful expletives.

  Lyla’s eyes went wide. “Step on it, Jamie.”

  And he did.

  Chapter Three

  Lyla was amazed and thankful beyond belief that they made it to the hospital in time—just in time.

  “Thank God we got her off our hands,” Jamie said once Dawn had been put in a wheelchair and carted off into the bowels of the hospital. Lyla slanted him a look of surprise and Jamie laughed. “Oh damn, I’m sorry, Lyla. That didn’t come out right at all. I just meant that—”

  Lyla smiled and patted Jamie’s back. “That’s okay, I know what you meant. I feel the same way. I probably would have freaked out if we hadn’t gotten her here in time.”

  “Believe me,” Jamie rolled his eyes, “we’d both be freaking out if she had that baby in the car.” He walked with her to the admitting area.

  Dawn’s unbelievably well-organized handbag contained not only her insurance card but a neatly typed, laminated card with complete family physician information and emergency telephone numbers. Lyla smiled. It was just like Dawn to be so thorough and meticulous.

  With extreme reluctance, she followed her sister’s wishes and called their mother to tell her Dawn was in labor. She could barely get two words in edgewise during the conversation, what with all her mother’s grilling. Now all Lyla had to do was get Jamie out of there before the storm h
it. The last thing she needed was for the object of her sexual fantasies to bear witness to the appalling behavior of her mother—her big-mouthed, strongly opinionated mother. Jesus…if her mother saw a black man sitting and chatting with Lyla, God only knew what the bigoted woman would do. The unsavory thought zinged a nasty shudder clear down to Lyla’s toes. Oddly enough, even in the grip of menopause Virginia McGraw had somehow managed to maintain the crown as the uncontested Queen of PMS.

  “Jamie, I—” Lyla felt her cheeks flush as he met her gaze with those incredible eyes of his. She felt as if she could see clear into another world if she stared into those amber-flecked pools long enough. But this was no time for fanciful thoughts. She cleared her throat and continued. “I just wanted to say thanks again for helping us out. But I really don’t want to keep you any longer. I’ve already imposed too much and I know you must have a full schedule, so you’re free to be on your way.”

  “It’s not an imposition at all, Lyla. Tuesdays are usually my lightest day of the week anyway. I’ve already called my secretary and asked her to switch my afternoon appointments. She said to tell you that Marcy got Charlie Martensen to cover your listing appointment with the Reynoldses this afternoon. That means we’re both free and clear. I’m happy to stay and give you a ride home.” Jamie gave her a warm smile.

  Stay. Stay? The word reverberated inside Lyla’s head as if it were an echo chamber. “Oh my God, no! You can’t do that!” If Jamie met her mother, Lyla knew for damn certain life as she knew it would skid to a screeching halt.

  Jamie paused a moment. One side of his mouth hiking into a smile, he said, “Gee, was my driving really that bad?”

  Telltale heat crept into Lyla’s cheeks as she spied the bemused look he slanted her. “Um, sorry. I guess that probably sounded a wee bit extreme.” She held her fingers about an inch apart.

  “Maybe just a little.” Jamie chuckled.