Mother, Please! - By Brenda Novak & Jill Shalvis & Alison Kent Page 0,18
watched her go, listening to the growl of the sea and trying to remember the last time a woman had walked out on him before he was ready to see her go.
CHAPTER SEVEN
APRIL HESITATED outside her room, her key at the ready. Claire was crying. She could hear her mother’s weeping even out in the hall.
Had something happened? Or was her mother crying over the same old problems?
Closing her eyes, April slid down the wall to sit on the Spanish tile floor, wondering what she should do. She knew if she went inside, her mother would choke back her tears and suffer in silence. Claire wouldn’t open up and talk, wouldn’t admit she was upset. She hadn’t in the past four months. So how could April help her?
April sat listening for a few minutes. Then, feeling guilty for shirking her duty as a good daughter, she let her breath out decisively and stood up. She had to go inside, just in case her mother needed her. It wasn’t as if she had siblings who could take on any of this responsibility.
But as soon as entered the room, her mother fell silent, just as April had known she would.
“Mom, are you asleep?” April whispered, giving her the opportunity to talk if she wanted to.
Her mother didn’t answer. Obviously Claire wouldn’t or couldn’t share her grief. As usual. She’d probably go out tomorrow and get her navel pierced instead. Or maybe she’d have a fling with the young man who handed out pool towels.
April set her shoes quietly inside the wardrobe as if she was fooled by her mother’s silence. But she couldn’t bring herself to go to bed. Suddenly the room felt too small for both of them. April didn’t want to be here, knowing her mother was crying only a few feet away, didn’t want to pretend she didn’t know.
Leaving her shoes and glasses, she slipped out of the room and hurried down the hall, putting some distance between her and Claire. When she’d been out on the beach with Gunner, she’d momentarily forgotten about her parents’ divorce. She’d even forgotten about work.
Maybe it was simply too soon to return to reality.
I’m in room three forty-four if you change your mind.
His words tempted her. She had no intention of sleeping with him, but she knew that just being in the same vicinity would provide the escape she needed so badly.
It wasn’t until she’d spent the next hour dangling her feet in the Jacuzzi, however, that she seriously considered knocking on Gunner’s door. If his suite was anything like hers, he had two double beds. They could talk. Or sleep…
Telling herself this was the modern world and she shouldn’t think twice about it, she took the elevator to the third floor. For a short distance, the corridor was more of a bridge, so she could see the pool where she’d sat for so long reflecting the stars overhead. The serene, beautiful sight helped to calm her, but she still didn’t want to go back to her own room.
Her knock on Gunner’s door was far more timid than she’d meant it to be. Good manners made it difficult to disturb him when he was probably asleep. But, leaning closer, she heard the television even though the volume had been turned low, so she knocked louder.
When he came to the door, he was wearing nothing but a pair of khaki shorts, and his chest looked every bit as good as she’d imagined when she’d felt his muscles earlier. “Hi,” he said, his face registering surprise.
April struggled to keep her eyes from wandering below his neck. “Any chance you’ve got an extra bed?”
He took in the fact that she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Maybe he noticed that she’d left her glasses behind, too. He didn’t seem to miss much. “I do,” he said. “Come on in.”
She stepped inside and immediately recognized the scent of his aftershave. Almost equally appealing, and far safer, was the box of Godiva chocolates lying open on the desk.
“A welcome gift from your father,” he said when he noticed her interest.
“I didn’t get a welcome gift.”
His teeth flashed as he smiled. “Help yourself.”
She crossed the room, slumped down in one of the chairs beside the desk and settled the box in her lap. One chocolate led to another until she’d eaten most of the top layer. Somehow there didn’t seem to be enough chocolate in the world to dispel her sudden depression.
Gunner had folded his arms and was leaning against