Kathie DeNosky - In Bed with the Opposition

Abby couldn’t have agreed more. Sunnie had been the result of Michael Price’s only night with an unscrupulous woman who, after giving birth, had tried using her infant daughter at the request of a dangerous drug lord to extort money from the Price family. They had sent blackmail notes to Brad, as well as a few other TCC members, telling each of them they were the father in an effort to get as much money as they could. He had correctly assumed they’d be too embarrassed to reveal to each other that they were being blackmailed. But when Brad and the other men who had received notes refused to pay, the career criminal had given up on his scheme and the mother abandoned the baby on the doorstep of the club with a note pinned to her blanket, declaring Brad was Sunnie’s father. A DNA test proved that there was indeed a genetic link, but when Zeke Travers tracked down the baby’s mother, she admitted that it was Michael Price and not Brad who had fathered Sunnie. Whether it was due to a sense of obligation to his late brother or the fact that Sunnie had captured his heart, Brad had taken responsibility for her and started the adoption process.

“I applaud your dedication,” she said, choosing her words carefully. He was trying so hard to do the right thing for Sunnie, she certainly didn’t want to discourage him. “But don’t you think it would be wise to have a little help? At least until you become more accustomed to caring for her by yourself?”

“She’s had so many people come and go in her life, I want her to know that I’m not just another person taking care of her until the next one comes along.” He shrugged. “I want her to know early on that I’m always going to be here for her. That’s why I’m working from home for the next six months.”

“You’re serious,” she said softly, in total awe of the lengths he was willing to go to for the baby girl.

“Very. My assistant is running the day to day operation at the firm and forwarding anything she can’t handle through email and faxes. After Sunnie’s first birthday, I’ll see how things are going and make my decision whether to continue working from home or go back into the office.”

Abby had gained a newfound respect for Brad when she heard he was taking on the responsibility of raising Sunnie as his own, but that admiration had just gone up a good ten notches. She knew a lot of men with his wealth and position in the business community who wouldn’t even consider going to such lengths for their own children, let alone a niece or nephew they were adopting.

The contrast between Bradford Price, the playboy financial genius, and Brad Price, the dedicated new daddy, was disconcerting and Abby needed time to assimilate and understand the two sides of his personality. It had been much easier to view him as her lifelong rival and fierce opponent in the race for the TCC presidency than it was to see him as the down-to-earth, caring man she had seen over the course of the day.

Needing to put distance between them, she made a show of checking her watch as she rose from the couch. “I should go. I have to get up early tomorrow to help Summer Franklin with the charity drive.”

“In other words, you’re going to put those god-awful pink flamingos in some poor unsuspecting soul’s front yard, so he’ll have to donate money to the Helping Hands Women’s Shelter to get rid of them,” Brad said, getting up to walk her to the door.

“It’s for a good cause,” Abby defended.

“I’m not saying it isn’t.” Brad laughed. “But pink flamingos? Seriously, couldn’t they come up with something a lot more attractive and a little less tasteless?”

She picked up her coat and purse as they passed the bench in the hall. “If they were attractive, people might not be as eager to get rid of them and donate less.”

“I guess you have a point,” he conceded. “But do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” she asked as he took her coat from her and held it while she put it on.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “When you drive by my place, keep on going,” he said, grinning. “I’ll send in a donation just to keep from having to look at them.” Before she realized what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close for a hug. “Thank you again for helping me out with Sunnie this morning and then again this evening. I really appreciate it, darlin’.”

For some reason, the endearment most Texas men used freely when talking to a woman sent a shiver straight up her spine and the awareness she had experienced when Brad kissed her under the mistletoe came rushing back tenfold. When had the skinny kid she had always competed against developed so many muscles? And why did they feel so darned good pressed against her?

Hastily backing away from him, she walked to the door, hoping he hadn’t noticed the fact that she had clung to him a little longer than was required for an embrace of appreciation. “If it gives you any measure of comfort, I can guarantee the pink flamingos won’t be on your lawn tomorrow morning when you get up.”

Grinning, he slipped his hands up to his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “That’s good to know.”

Stepping out onto the porch, she couldn’t resist turning back for one parting shot. “But don’t get too complacent, Price. Your day will come when you least expect it.”

What was wrong with her? she wondered, as she walked to her car. Why after all these years was she suddenly noticing Brad’s impressive muscles? How could it be that she felt more secure with his arms around her than she had in very long time? Had it been so long since she had been held by a man that even Bradford Price could make her feel breathless and cause her pulse to speed up?

“You’ve lost your mind, girlfriend,” she muttered to herself as she steered her luxury SUV around the circular drive and out onto the street.

She wasn’t looking to be held by any man, let alone a playboy like Bradford Price. With his piercing hazel eyes and dark good looks, he represented trouble with a great big capital T and she wanted no part of it.

Besides, after experiencing the pain of losing her husband, she wasn’t about to give her heart to another man and put herself in the position to go through something like that again. She was a survivor and it was only through working for various charities that she had kept herself going after the many disappointments of the past year. And although she did get lonely at times, community service would have to be enough for her. It was far less dangerous to her peace of mind than the almost irresistible combination of Bradford Price, with his rock-hard biceps and movie star good looks, and the most adorable baby girl Abby had ever seen.

“How much longer do you think we need to stay before it’s socially acceptable to leave?” Brad asked Zeke, as he checked his watch.

If the informal cocktail party he was attending hadn’t been in honor of the candidates for the various club offices, he would have declined the invitation. Instead, he had sipped on his club soda, engaged in the obligatory mingling with all of the other guests and counted the minutes until he could politely thank the election committee chairman, Travis Whelan, and his wife, Natalie, for hosting the party and leave.

“What’s the rush?” Zeke asked, looking puzzled. “I thought you’d be glad to have an evening off from your child-care duties. After all, you’ve been on your own with Sunnie now for the past week.”

Brad shrugged. “Sunnie isn’t the easiest baby to get to sleep, and I’m pretty sure my sister will be ready to throw me to the coyotes by the time I get back.”

“What happened to Bad Brad, the heartthrob of every sorority sister on the UT campus?” Zeke laughed. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to ruin your reputation as a world-class player.”