What a Woman Needs Read online

  “Are you sure you’re all right with this?” Beth asked. “I could tell her no.”

  “Don’t. Like I said, your house, your rules. I’m used to it. I’ll sign a few autographs and that’ll be it.”

  Beth arched an eyebrow at him. “You obviously don’t know teenage girls.”

  “I do have a sister.”

  “Was she ever around a movie star before?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Exactly. I’ll try to run interference, but you might want to consider a not-so-form-fitting outfit next time.”

  Damn if that slow burn didn’t flare into a full-on raging inferno. She’d noticed his body.

  He was damn proud of that body. Cost him five hours every freaking day of the last movie and a diet that left a lot to be desired. He’d lost some of the muscle and added some fat in the three weeks since it’d wrapped, so it was nice to know the body was still notice-worthy.

  “This is kind of, you know, the uniform.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She ran her eyes over him.

  Where the hell was Mr. Beth Hamilton? Seriously, the guy needed to put in an appearance like pronto or Bryan couldn’t be held accountable for jumping his wife. She was that hot.

  “You do know boys, though, I have to say. Thank you for handling Mark and Tommy. Ever since . . .” She glanced toward the wall on the other side of the room. “Well, I appreciate you talking to them.”

  He followed that glance.

  There, above the fireplace, was a picture. Of a man. In uniform. With a triangular wood-and-glass case on the shelf below it. An American flag was folded up inside.

  All feeling left Bryan’s body, draining out through his feet into a puddle, taking his stomach with him.

  He knew what that was. What it meant.

  It was Mr. Beth Hamilton’s memorial.

  Mrs. Beth Hamilton was a widow.

  And Bryan was in a heap of trouble.

  Chapter Three

  BRYAN had never thought he’d be so happy for five kids as he was at this very moment.

  Then five morphed to seven. And a crazy dog. Two hamsters. Some cat that the crazy dog was chasing through the house, one harried mom, and a neighbor asking for the proverbial cup of sugar amid a slew of phone calls where Beth kept saying she’d have to call them back.

  Word had gotten out.

  He was betting it was the daughter or her friends. One tweet and his anonymity had disappeared.

  Bryan smiled at the measuring-cup-bearing neighbor while he hightailed it—with his bucket of cleaning supplies and an official Manley Maids broom (seriously? Mac had spent money to have broom handles imprinted with the Manley Maids logo?)—into the kitchen.

  More chaos.

  Maggie had decided to have a tea party.

  Six dolls and stuffed animals were seated around the kitchen table, each with a place setting in front of it, with every snack she could drag off the bottom three shelves in the pantry set out before them—all of which the manic cat had charged through, sending most of it flying onto the floor in the most impressive arc of junk food he’d ever seen.

  And guess who has to clean it up?

  Bryan rolled his eyes, set down the bucket, and put the logo-ed broom to good use.

  “Sherman’s a bad dog.” Maggie slid from her chair and stood next to him, a very thoughtful expression on her face as she looked at the pile of snacks he was amassing.

  “Not bad. Just easily excited.”

  “Everything okay in here—oh no.” Beth’s gorgeous face made an appearance at the kitchen door.

  And Bryan’s stomach flipped right along with it.

  Oh no was right. Talk about easily excitable . . . Bryan had come into this room to get away from the pull Beth had on him, so of course she’d followed him in. Ever since he’d sat down at that damn poker table with Mac his luck had evaporated.

  “Maggie, what did I say about the snacks in the pantry?”

  “That they’re for guest-es. Those are my guest-es.” The little girl’s thumb went into her mouth and she took a step closer to Bryan, her tiny shoulder brushing up against his thigh.

  Bryan’s heart cracked just a bit.

  He put his hand on that shoulder. “I think your mom means you need to ask her before you open them, Maggie. She has to plan what she’s going to buy when she goes food shopping or she won’t have enough when she needs it.”

  “Oh.” The thumb-sucking got a little more manic. “Sorry, Mommy.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart, but Bryan’s right. Ask me next time, okay?”

  “I will.” She pulled her thumb out and turned that sweet face his way. “Can I ask you? Do you go food shopping?”

  Knowing that her father was gone, Bryan had a feeling he’d do whatever Maggie asked him to. “Sure. I can do that.”

  “’Kay. We’re gonna need more snacks if Jason’s buddies come over.”

  “Jason’s buddies aren’t coming over.” Beth took the broom from him and squatted down to scoop the pile into the dustpan.

  Bryan dropped to his knees beside her. “Here, let me.”

  “It’s okay, I can do—”

  Their hands met. Then their eyes. Bryan was seriously considering putting their lips in touch with each other as well until Maggie poked her face between them.

  “Yes they are. I heard him telling Kevin that a big movie star was here. They’re all coming.”

  Beth slicked her tongue over her bottom lip. Quickly. But not so quickly that Bryan missed it.

  She also glanced away. But not before he saw the flare of interest in her eyes.

  How long had Mr. Beth Hamilton been gone?

  And was he a dog for even wondering?

  Speaking of which, the damn speckled bullet of a canine darted in from the hallway, made a beeline for the pantry that Beth managed to shut with the broom handle, then zipped over to the pile of scooped up snacks and started chowing down before Bryan had registered the thing was that close to him.

  Of course he missed the dog when he lunged for it. The terrier managed to escape with a mouthful of treats and dragged the box of Goldfish Maggie had dropped.

  Bryan slammed a foot onto the box with a thousand tiny crunches, but at least the dog let go. Right before it took off again.

  Beth sighed and stood up, brushing her hands off on her thighs—which left her orange fingerprints right where he wouldn’t mind his being.

  He seriously needed to get laid. And not by Mrs. Beth Hamilton, no matter how much he wanted it.

  “Are you a movie star, Bryan?” Maggie tugged on his ridiculous pants.

  A curl had fallen onto her forehead. He brushed it back. “I’m an actor, Maggie. I work in films.”

  “Do you know Nemo? I like his movie.”

  “Nemo’s a cartoon, runt.” Jason schlumped into the kitchen. “Bryan here, he’s bigger than that. He knows all the important people, don’t you? Like Bradley Cooper and Spielberg, right? You get lots of hot chicks, too, I bet.”

  “Jason!” Beth’s mouth dropped open as if she couldn’t believe her little boy could know such things.

  Bryan didn’t have the heart to tell her all a fourteen-year-old boy did know. Or what he wanted to know. That’s what dads were for.

  And, like him, Jason didn’t have one, either. Bryan knew exactly how Jason was feeling.

  “Haven’t met Spielberg.” Cooper was another story, but not one he could leak to the media yet. And given how quickly word had gotten around about him being here, he figured the Twitterverse was alive and thriving in the Hamilton household, so he wasn’t about to breathe a word to the teenagers. And as for the “hot chicks”—what was with this kid’s vocabulary?—his grandmother had raised him to be a gentleman. He didn’t kiss and tell. Besides, he hadn’t gone out with all the women who were claiming he had. He let them say so, though, because it generated buzz. Helped both of their careers.

  “So do you mind if, you know, I have some buddies over? They want to meet
you.”

  Bryan nodded toward Beth. “That’s a question you need to ask your mom. It’s her house and I’m here on her dime. Not up to me.”

  Jason straightened and swung the roof of hair off his forehead. “Mom, any chance Kev and the guys could come over?”

  Amazing how the kid’s attitude changed when he wanted something from Beth.

  But Beth wanted something from him if that desperate look in her eyes was anything to go by—and it wasn’t what he wanted from her.

  Bryan shrugged. “Up to you. Like I said, I’m used to it. Better to get it over with anyway.”

  “Is your room finished?”

  “Aw, Mom—”

  “You want something from Bryan and me, you need to give back. And it’s in your best interests, Jase. You can’t live in a mess like that.”

  Actually, yes, he could. Bryan remembered it well—well, for about half a day before Gran had put her foot down. The reverberation of his grandmother’s will had been felt through the entire tiny house without her even raising her voice.

  “Fine.” Jason blew out an exasperated breath, dropped his head so the hair was covering his eyes, and shuffled back out the way he came. “They’ll be here in a half hour.”

  “Then you better get moving.” Beth swished the back of her son’s hair as he walked out of the room.

  “Can I invite some friends over? Kelsey’s having some and now Kevin. And Mark has Tommy and I don’t have anyone. Even Mrs. Beecham’s gone because of Sherman.”

  Ah, the cat of the fabled dollhouse decorating; that’s who Sherman had been chasing.

  “Maggie, we don’t need any more people in this house. And we’d have to invite their moms and I don’t think Bryan’s up for meeting more people. Can we hold off for another day? I can come to your tea party.”

  “No you can’t. You’re too busy. You’re always too busy.”

  Guilt sliced through Beth faster than a hot knife through butter—but just as painful. It was true; she was always busy. Ever since Mike had died, she’d had to be both mother and father, and those were full-time jobs. Then there was her actual full-time job, and, hell, how was she supposed to do three full-time jobs and keep up with the house and the laundry and the yard and the animals and the food shopping and the bills and—

  “Your mom’s busy taking care of you and your brothers and sister, Maggie.” Bryan took Maggie’s hand and led her back to the kitchen table. He hiked her into her chair and righted the half-dozen tea cups Mrs. Beecham had run through. Then he poured out a small helping of the remaining Chex Mix onto each plate, and even plunked a tiara on his head just to distract Maggie from her loneliness.

  Yes, Bryan was quite good at that.

  Beth shook her head. She really had to get her thoughts back to reality. She didn’t know why he was in this job, but she couldn’t let it distract her. Life had to go on, and the time having a maid freed up could be put to so much better use than drooling over said maid.

  But he was quite drool-worthy.

  Had Kara known who she and the girls would be hiring when they’d contracted with the cleaning company? Everyone knew, of course, that Mary-Alice’s brother was the Bryan Manley. There’d been a few sightings of him over the years since he’d made it big. She hadn’t known him back when he’d been in high school, since she hadn’t lived here then. Mike had moved them here after he’d left the Air Force to fly commercial planes, but she’d heard the stories. Star football player, Most Popular, good student, even the lead in the high school musical . . . The guy was golden.

  And he was. From his bronzed muscles to his sun-kissed chestnut hair to the twinkle in his sparkling green eyes and the gleam of his gorgeous smile, the guy was the epitome of heartthrob. She’d have to be dead not to realize it.

  She definitely wasn’t. No, but Mike was—and for the first time since his death, she’d noticed a man.

  It figured it’d have to be this man. Mr. Unattainable.

  Who was here to clean her toilets.

  There was some poetic justice in this world, apparently. Or at the very least, the universe had a sense of humor.

  It’d be interesting to see if Bryan was still laughing when these four weeks were up.

  Chapter Four

  TWELVE teenagers, their parents, and a few “drop-by” neighbors weren’t too much of an intrusion as it turned out. Plus, Beth got to see a few people she hadn’t seen since the funeral.

  Had she really been busy for that long? Come to think about it, other than the monthly get-together her friends dragged her to at one of their homes, and the few disastrous dates they’d insisted she go on, the only times Beth had been out of the house were for school functions. Really, it was amazing she even knew who Bryan was, because she’d probably only seen one of his movies in the entire last two years.

  But that one could get her through many lonely nights . . .

  She shook off the image of him rising from that water like a god, sluicing his hair back off his forehead as the water rippled down his chest and abs. How his biceps had flexed and the shorts had hung low on his hips, the weight of the water dragging them down even further.

  Bombs had been going off behind him, gunfire erupting all around him, but Beth’s heart had tripled in speed solely because he’d been on that screen.

  And now he was standing in front of her asking what more she wanted from him.

  Let me count the ways . . .

  “You’re sure none of the bathrooms need cleaning? It is my job, you know. I actually came here to work.”

  “I know you did, and I thank you. But, really, I just did the bathrooms.” Three days ago. But she didn’t want anyone, least of all the Bryan Manley, seeing the havoc five kids and a menagerie could wreak on a bathroom. She’d clean those after the kids went to bed tonight. “You can get to them tomorrow. I can only imagine this isn’t a normal day for you and you’re bound to be tired.”

  He arched that one eyebrow that had the power to make masses of women swoon at once.

  Geared toward just one woman, however, its effect was magnified. Beth had to poke her fingernail into her hamstring to remind herself where she was. And what her name was. But not what his was.

  “But I barely got through anything today,” he said, hiking the bucket of cleaning tools in his hand. Which caused his biceps to do that nice flexing thing she was so fond of. “And you do know that I can do other things besides clean, right? If there’s something you need fixed . . . Handyman stuff.”

  Don’t get her started on what he could be handy with . . .

  “Trust me. It’ll all be here tomorrow. Pretty much just as you found it today.”

  “Like Groundhog Day?” His smile was as potent as his flexing muscles.

  “Yes, just like Groundhog Day.” It figured his reference point would be a movie. Thankfully, that one hadn’t been released in the past two years, so she actually knew what he was talking about. The only reason she even knew any of the current singing stars was because of Kelsey and Jason’s love of their iPods and the portable speakers Mike’s parents had bought them for Christmas.

  Mike’s parents. Oh, crud. The kids were supposed to spend one of the upcoming weekends with them at their shore house. They’d wanted a week, but Beth wasn’t ready to give the kids up for that long. Sure, the kids were a lot of work and, yes, she wouldn’t mind the break from the responsibility, but the truth was, she needed them just as much as they needed her. A weekend apart was all any of them could manage right now. She’d been both dreading it and looking forward to it since Donna had asked. She’d invited Beth, but they both knew Donna and John wanted and needed the time alone with their grandkids without their daughter-in-law around. Celebrate Mike’s life instead of the constant reminder that he was gone with his widow hanging around. Beth got it and, really, she was fine with it, but no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she was looking forward to the peace and solitude of that weekend, it was a lie. It’d just give her more time
to think about Mike being gone.

  “Bryan!” Maggie came running out of the laundry room dragging a sock on her sneakers’ Velcro closures, and threw herself into his legs. “You’re coming back, aren’t you? Tomorrow, right? You promised!”

  Bryan, God love him, didn’t hesitate, prying Maggie’s little arms off and hunkering down to look her in the eye. “Of course I’m coming back. I told you I would. I’m just going to my house now. Work is done for the day.”

  “But we’re not done. We live here. We can’t go anywhere. Why can’t you stay here? You could be my daddy now.”

  Silence.

  Even the grandfather clock seemed to stop ticking.

  Or maybe that was just because everything in Beth’s body had gone numb.

  Numb was good. Numb meant she couldn’t feel pain.

  Wrong.

  It seared through her like a bolt of lightning. Her daughter wanted a father. God knew, Beth wanted her to have one. It wasn’t fair that Maggie didn’t have one. Wasn’t goddamned fair.

  She’d said that a lot in the past two years. But no one had promised her fair. Mike had often said that; that life wasn’t fair. It’d been her mantra during the months after his death. And now . . .

  “You’ll always have your dad, Maggie.” Bryan ran a hand over her hair. “I lost my dad when I was little, too, you know. You miss him being able to give you hugs and talk to you, but he’ll always be with you right here.” He touched Maggie’s heart and Beth’s throat closed up.

  She had to look away, blinking like mad to keep from crying. She’d done so much crying. Too much.

  “You’ll never forget him and he’ll love you forever. You just have to remember that when you get lonely, okay?”

  Maggie scrunched her little face that was so much like Mike’s it always took Beth’s breath away. “That’s what Grandma said, too. But he used to toss me in the air and now no one does. Mommy’s not strong enough since I growed.”

  “Ah, well, that’s easily fixed.”