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Chapter Seven
>Peter Belden snickered as Helen told him in a low voice about a phone call that afternoon from Bill Regan. Waiting until Bobby had gone to wash up for supper, Helen laughed herself silly telling Peter about Regan’s request.
“Regan must really be taken with this young woman,” Peter grinned, noting how his still youthful wife was taking such delight in their old friend’s personal life.
“He seems to be. He kept tripping over his words. I finally realized he was asking me to make supper for him and this young lady. Seems he wanted to impress her with more than pizza.”
Peter shook his head. “Now I know why you wanted Bobby out of the room. He gets wind of this, he and the twins will be up there in minutes, snooping and spying.”
***
“I had no idea your culinary skills were so developed,” Ayla smiled at Regan. “That was awesome. I told you pizza was fine though.”
“Oh well, uh, I thought this’d be more romantic,” he hedged, grateful the lights were dim. Dinner had been eaten by candlelight, so she couldn’t see his mild embarrassment.
Ayla’s cobalt eyes sparkled at him as she set her beer on the coffee table. He had set the dishes in the sink and brought her another beer as they moved towards the living room, not far from the small dining area.
“Such a big, strong man, making such delicate food, kinda turns me on.” She slid her arms around him as she looked up him, smiling mischievously. “Maybe I could join you in the kitchen sometime.”
“Uh…” Regan was too lost in her eyes to form a sentence, “Er, I don’t…”
“You know there’s a book called Sex Begins in the Kitchen,” she nibbled on his ear and Regan just closed his eyes as they tumbled onto his sofa, with Ayla on top of him, his arms around her.
“I didn’t cook it,” he muttered.
Ayla sat up, her eyes wide and innocent, but her smile said otherwise. He was very aware of the fact she was essentially straddling him, golden hair tumbling over her shoulders.
“Why, Bill Regan, you jest!”
“Cut it out,” he laughed. “You knew all along.”
Ayla grinned. “Yep. So who really made it?”
“Mrs. Belden, down at Crabapple Farm,” he admitted.
“Remind me to send her my compliments,” Ayla was trying to get comfortable on top of him as he lay on the sofa. “It was delicious, but pizza really would have been fine.”
“I know, Cupcake,” he smiled up at her, noting the deep cut of her neckline. At the angle she was perched at, he had a more than tantalizing view of her cleavage, and wondered how much longer he could resist her.
“Cupcake? Did you just call me Cupcake?” she demanded with a laugh.
“Uh, yeah. It kinda slipped out.” He searched her face anxiously. “I won’t…”
“No, do,” she giggled. “No one has ever called me that before. I like it. But why Cupcake?”
“Because you love them,” his hand brushed her hair from her face. “And I think you’re as sweet as a cupcake.”
“I think that’s the sweetest thing a man has ever said to me,” she whispered, leaning into kiss him. “Thank you.”
His response was lost in the crushing embrace that followed.
***
A week later Regan knew he was in trouble. At night he fell asleep to the image of her deep blue eyes and teasing smile. He dreamed of her soft flesh through the night, and woke thinking of her, wishing she lay beside him. For the first time in his life, William Regan was in love.
He could hear laughter in his head, often pausing while grooming one of the horses as he thought he heard her. He liked being around her. He liked being with her. She understood his humor, and she didn't babble incessantly the way some women did. They could sit together and not say a word, yet be in perfect comfort. She was fairly comfortable on a horse now, and Regan was amazed at the lack of awkward pauses in their time together.
Which was why he agreed to attend a fancy fundraising gala with her a few weeks later.
***
Tom Delanoy stretched his long legs out, resting his feet on the coffeetable. Bill Regan was unusually jumpy. His old friend was driven to distraction by this girl, Tom knew. Regan hadn’t been able to concentrate on their weekly poker game with Peter Belden and Matthew Wheeler. Now Tom sat across from Regan in the upstairs apartment.
“You gonna tell me why you called me over?” Tom asked, sipping his beer. “You’ve been pretty quiet all night.”
Regan sighed and ran one hand through his thick red hair. “I have a problem.”
“I’m aware of that,” Tom chuckled. “And I think the problem is tall and blonde? Eyes the color of-how’d you say it the other day, after you had about six beers in you? A calm ocean on a summer day?”
Regan felt his ears turn red as Tom laughed.
“C’mon old buddy. I’m a married man with kids, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember the early days.”
“Well, it’s just…we haven’t, uh...”
“Ah,” Tom said knowingly. “You haven’t had your pipes cleaned yet.”
“What?” Regan was startled. “Oh uh, yeah.”
“I kind of figured that, you’re still too tense,” Tom grinned. “I figure the day you’re relaxed will be the tell tale sign.”
Regan had to laugh. “It’s just…I don't really uh, know how to say this…and I can’t really…talk to Dan about it either. He’s, you know. Young. And my nephew.”
Tom paused, beer bottle at his lips. “Regan, you have been with a woman, yes?”
Regan glared at him. “Yes, several. That’s not where I was going with this.”
Tom chuckled and took a sip of beer. “Okay, you scared me a minute. So, what’s the problem?”
“I haven’t been with a woman in a while,” Regan admitted.
Tom raised one black eyebrow. “Since Joan?”
“Yeah, she was the last,” he sighed. “What if I just...what if… ”
Tom nodded. “I got you now. You feel like you forgot how to do it."
“Yeah.” Regan was glad he didn’t have to say it out loud. “I don’t want to screw this up.”
“Didn’t you say it had been awhile for her too?” Tom asked. Regan nodded. “Then don't worry. You'll both going to be nervous as hell. If you rush the first time, don’t worry. Keep trying. That’s half the fun,” he snickered.
Regan looked only slightly less worried. “Right.”
“Look.” Tom set his beer on the table. “Don’t stress it. I haven’t seen you this crazy over a girl since…well, ever. Though I would like to meet her. Celia is insisting you bring her to dinner.”
Regan nodded. “I can try. She’s really shy.”
“The way she laid that kiss on you makes me think otherwise,” Tom laughed. “But bring her for dinner next weekend, after that fancy shindig.”
***
Regan slipped around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief. This social crap was tortuous. Ayla had told him how sexy he looked in the tux, but he still felt like he was playing dress up. Even the kiss she had laid on him, whispering a promise for something more later, hadn’t put him at ease.
And seeing her in the midnight blue gown that sparkled and made her eyes glow, cut low in the back and front, golden hair swept up, was driving him mad. And he had noted how the men scoped her out, which made his temper boil. If what she said was true, they were just thinking of ways to bed her. The women were more obvious in their dislike and snobbery. He avoided these types of things because of the fakeness, the air kisses, the exaggerated claims of friendship. Thank God Honey Wheeler wasn’t part of this crowd. Madeleine Wheeler played her part but he knew at the core, she wasn’t quite like these girls.
Some of her friends seem pretty cool, he thought, but most of them had sized him up with a quick glance of a trained eye and brushed him off. Wanting a few moments of silence, he had snuck off while she was engaged in a conversation. He was not happy to realize some of her pretentious friends were nearby.
“He’s a horse trainer,” one of the guys snorted, as his snotty, effeminate voice carried to Regan. “Did you see how rough his hands were? Doesn’t he know how to moisturize? Can you imagine the calluses he must have?”
“He’s totally beneath her,” another said with a heavy, high society tone and Brooklyn accent
Regan couldn’t breathe. Why hadn’t the guy just come up and punched him?
“Oh knock it off,” a girl said, irritated. “I think he’s pretty nice looking. And he’s got strength, did you see his muscles?”
“Yeah shut up,” another added. “You’re just sore you lost the bet.”
Bet? Regan thought. What bet?
“He seemed really nice guys, lay off.”
“The pool is up to eight hundred!” Brooklyn added. “I bet she scores with him tonight.”
Regan had heard enough and started walking, his temper bubbling over. Where he was headed, he didn’t know, but he found the nearest exit and slipped out. Hurrying across the patio and down the steps, he headed for the street, wishing the night wasn’t so warm and humid.
A bet. A stupid, damn bet. She had made a bet with someone that she would bag him. Exactly the type of spoiled rich kid game he had thought she didn’t play, a part of that world she claimed she wanted nothing to do with.
Was this why she had constantly left his side throughout the night? Leaving him on his own or standing with her friends who wanted nothing to do with him? Sure, it was a fundraiser but it seemed everyone wanted to talk to her, drawing her way from him and leaving him on his on and feeling awkward.
It sure made sense, he thought. Bring him here, see if he could hold his own with these people, get him home later, bed him, and then tomorrow would be the dumping. Lies. All lies, he thought, ripping off the tie and unbuttoning the collar. She was a liar. What else had she lied about he wondered? Everything?
Regan finally looked around, not sure where he was. After a moment he realized he was near Dan’s precinct, and headed that way. His fury had given way to depression, and he knew Dan should be off duty pretty soon.
Inside, the precinct was quiet, as far as NYPD precincts went on Saturday nights.
Regan made his way to desk and waited a minute until he had the attending officer’s attention. A phone was ringing on a desk, people were being questioned, one man was handcuffed to a desk, and conversation was everywhere.
“Officer Mangan, is he here?” Regan asked, irate at the noise around him.
After signing in and showing his ID, Regan made his way through the metal detector and up to the third floor.
He knew Dan was studying to take the Inspector test next month, so he had been paired with a senior detective, and got to be on the third floor.
He found his nephew frowning over a file he was reading, feet propped up on the desk.
“Mangan! Visitor!” someone yelled, after asking Regan who he was here for.
Dan looked up, his hand on his neck. He was scratching at the back of his neck and Regan suspected his nephew had just had his hair cut.
“Uncle Bill?” Dan got up. “What happened?”
“That obvious?” Regan asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You’re supposed to be at that fancy gig with Ayla,” Dan replied. “Something not go the right way?”
“Listen you, uh, almost done here?” Regan asked.
Dan nodded in understanding.
“Yeah, I was just finishing a read, but I can go.”
“I’ll wait,” Regan muttered.
Ten minutes later, Dan had grabbed his duffel bag and they headed out.
“You gonna tell me?” Dan asked.
Regan sighed.
“It was a bet. I was a bet,” he punched the dashboard of Dan’s beat up old accord.
“A bet?” Dan looked at his uncle. “As in, rich girl makes bet to bag the groom?”
“Yeah, something like that,” Regan said bitterly.
Dan sighed.
"That's seriously screwed up. I'm sorry, dude.”
“You don’t sound surprised,” Regan said unhappily.
“Well, to be honest, I was afraid of something like that,” Dan said. “I’m suspicious by nature, what can I say?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Regan snapped.
Dan rolled his eyes as he flipped his blinker on to change lanes.
“Because you wouldn’t have listened. And I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to hope that you had finally found a woman who could put up with you,” Dan grinned at him but Regan just leaned back against the seat.
“My favorite boots at her place," he grumbled. “Dammit, my whole bag.”
Dan shook his head in amusement.
“You want me to swing by tomorrow and get it?”
“Nah, it’s not that important.”
“Which means you’ll leave it there. Your special monogrammed boots too?”
Regan sighed.
“I’ll take care of it,” Dan promised.
Regan nodded. He should go himself, but he was so depressed he didn’t want to see her just yet. And to see her would just make him livid again. He would never consider hitting a woman but he’d love to have a punching bag in front of him to work this anger off. He could still see her when she first opened the door, the way the dress clung to her, her beautiful smile, directed at him. He didn’t know if he wanted kiss her or yell at her.
Dan dropped Regan off at her Ayla's complex, so he could get his truck. It stood out among the shiny new sedans and SUVs, but Regan didn’t care. He didn’t want to deal with the doorman, and even if he were to get upstairs, he didn’t have a key to the apartment.
Popping the clutch into reverse, Regan backed the truck out and headed home.
***
Ayla had gotten worried when she couldn’t find Regan at the party, and spent the better part of an hour looking for him. No one had seen him for almost an hour. He didn’t carry a cell phone, and there were no messages at the desk of the apartment building.
She would have much rather been at his place, or hers, soaking in the tub with that glorious body next to hers, or better yet, in her big bed, exploring each other. She had that planned for later tonight, she thought with a smile as she walked down the staircase, looking for him. She couldn’t go much longer the way they were going, making out and starting to explore, then he’d stop things. She wanted him.
Worry gave way to anger when she was the last guest to leave and no Regan in sight. No one had seen the redhead leave, but her hosts raised an eyebrow at her inquiry. Fuming, she headed home and noted his truck was gone. Inside, she called his apartment but it went to voicemail.
“Bill Regan, you better have a damn good reason for disappearing on me tonight. Call me back,” she snapped, slamming the phone down. Hot tears poked at her eyes and her mascara was began to run.
***
Ayla slept late after sitting up most of the night, waiting for the phone to ring. It never did. She was woken by someone knocking persistently on the door. Thinking it was Regan, she hurried to the door, smoothing her wild hair down and pulling her robe on.
“Bill-” she stopped, surprised to see Dan. “Dan?”
Neither man needed to be announced any more, so he hadn’t stopped at the front desk. Dan often stopped by if Regan was there, his precinct wasn’t far. His uncle had been seeing her just a over a month, and he was often invited to join them for dinner.
“Hi,” he said awkwardly. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked at the pretty older woman who was only a couple inches shorter than him.
“What are you-where’s Regan?” she asked. “Where’s Bill?”
Dan sighed.
“Look, I just came to get his clothes that he left here last night.”
“What? Dan, what’s going on?” the ocean eyes narrowed. “Why did he take off?”
“Look, Ayla, I don’t want to be in the middle of this. I just came to get his clothes.”
“They’re in here,” Ayla’s eyes darkened and her jaw clenched. Storming to the couch she grabbed the bag that sat near it and shoved them at the young police officer.
“You tell your uncle I expected at least an excuse as to why he took off and dumped me,” she snapped. “I never took him for being a coward!”
Dan sighed. Against his better judgment, he was about to get involved. She deserved an explanation at least. “Look, Ayla, he found out about the bet. Some of your rich little buddies were talking about it.”
“Bet? What bet?” she demanded.
Dan just looked at her. “The one you have with your friends. About snaring my uncle.”
“Dan, what the hell are you talking about?” she asked quietly, her eyes flaring.
Dan refrained from rolling his eyes.
“Ayla, don’t play innocent. Uncle Bill overhead your buddies. It really pissed him off, and it hurt him. He thought you were above that.”
“Dan,” she said through clenched teeth, “I have no clue what you are talking about. I’m not part of any bet!”
Dan studied her for a minute. Either she was an incredibly good liar, or she really didn’t know.
I’m going to regret this, he thought. Leaning against the door, he related what Regan had told him.
Ayla went pale, then red with fury.
“Those bastards!” she exclaimed. “I bet I know exactly who they were! And why didn’t he wait to ask me? Why’d he just run off like that?”
“Look, Uncle Bill has a real bad temper. Goes with the red hair. He acts first, thinks later. He’s stewing right now. I offered to come get his things so there wouldn’t be a big scene.”
Ayla’s eyes narrowed.
“Big scene huh? I’ll give him a big scene!” she snatched the bag from Dan and dashed into her room. A moment later she was back in jeans and t-shirt, messy hair ponytailed, and grabbed her purse.
“Now Ayla, hold on-”
She shoved him out the door and slammed it behind her, locking it. Dan followed her to the elevator.
“Ayla, please don’t go charging over there-”
“Your uncle has a temper?” she demanded. “He’s got nothing on this German girl!”
Dan sighed.
***
Regan was riding Jupiter back in from his morning patrol. He tried to help Maypenny out by patrolling at least once a day when he exercised the horses.
The ride had calmed his temper, but did nothing for his depression. It was well past liking, or even fondness. He was into head-over-heels-in-love. She was sexy, beautiful, smart, and had even gotten to be fairly comfortable on a horse. And he had a feeling last night would have led to the bedroom had he not overheard her friends.
The thought made him scowl harder as he removed the saddle and began to brush Jupiter down.
If he had a cell phone, Dan would have called to warn him there was a pissed off woman headed his way. As it was, Dan tried the stable office but Regan let the phone ring, figuring it was her, after she had left half a dozen messages last night. Her messages had started out angry, bordering on tears, and finally just a hang up.
Regan was just finishing Jupe when a piece of cloth suddenly hit him in the head, covering his face.
“What the-” he stood up, pulled it off and turned around as his jeans hit him in the chest, then his boots. “Ayla, what the hell are you doing?”
She stood behind him, hands on her hips, glaring at him with fury blazing from her eyes. Her hair was pulled back sloppily and she took a step forward.
“You overhear something and run off like a little child without bothering to talk to me?”
“I know all about your damn bet!” he snapped back. “And I didn’t want to embarrass you anymore in front of your friends!”
“Embarrass me? I’m there with the best guy I know, who hears a few words of conversation and then dumps me! I waited until everyone was gone, thinking you were there still!” Her cheeks were flushed with anger and her blue eyes glowed. “I was worried as all hell when I couldn’t find you!”
“Well I didn’t stick around. I left as soon as I found out your game,” he snapped, his hands on his hips.
Her eyes narrowed.
“There was no game, Regan. Dan told me what you heard. I didn’t know anything about that!”
“Dan should have kept his mouth shut,” Regan growled.
“Well at least one of you had enough honor to tell me what the hell I supposedly did!” she snapped.
Regan flinched.
“You wanna talk about honor?” he demanded, stepping closer, hands on his hips. “You think it’s real honorable to go around betting with people’s emotions?”
“I didn’t bet a damn thing!” she yelled. “It was you-” she jabbed a finger at his chest, “that took off without any explanation! Instead of coming to me to explain and hearing me out!”
Regan grabbed her hand to stop the jabbing. “I thought you were better than that kind of game,” he said coldly. “I know an eight hundred dollar betting pool is chump change to you, but when it’s my heart involved-”
Ayla moved fast and kissed him hard, cutting him off, and Regan couldn’t resist the softness of her lips, pulling her up against him. Finally she pulled back.
“Eight hundred dollars?” she repeated.
“Yes, that’s what the pool is up to.”
Ayla looked at him, tilted her head to one side and laughed. Regan just stared at her dumbfounded. Stepping back up to him she laid another kiss on him, pulling his head down to hers. Regan pulled away.
“Don’t do that,” he muttered. “I can’t think straight when you do.”
“You’re so sexy when you’re mad,” she giggled. “Regan, eight hundred dollars doesn’t begin to touch what I feel for you. Look, I already figured out who was behind the bet. But I swear to you, I had nothing to do with it. Please believe me,” she said softly, her elegant hands holding his face gently.
“I want to Ayla, it’s just…”
“Look, I know you don’t trust people easily,” she said quietly. “But I would never, ever play a game like that, especially with you. You’re not the only one whose heart is wrapped up in this.”
His emerald eyes focused on her and he felt his anger evaporating as he looked into her lovely face.
With a sigh, he rested his forehead on the top of her silken head. Her blond hair was wild and wavy, and rather sexy, he thought. Running his fingers through it, he saw a smile hovering on her lips.
“Besides, I had big things planned for us last night.” She pouted just a little and Regan found himself struggling for air against the sexy expression.
“Like what?” he slipped his arms around her waist.
“Why don’t you come over tonight?” she asked. “I’ll even cook.”
“You can’t cook,” he said.
She stuck out her tongue. “I know how to order take out and put it on a plate.”
He chuckled.
Smiling, she rose on her toes to brush her lips against his, but her soft voice was serious, “We ok?”
“I want to be,” he murmured.
The blue eyes that met his were troubled.
“I’ll take care of my so called friends. Regan, please don’t doubt me.”
“I won’t, Cupcake,” he murmured, hugging her tightly and hoping it was the right decision that he wouldn’t regret.
***
Dan had a hearty laugh when Regan called to bitch at him.
“Well it worked out for the best. Stop by the grocery store and pick up some condoms.”
“What?”
“Uncle Bill.” Dan was exasperated now. “She didn’t invite you over for just dinner. She’s gonna seduce you right out of your worn old boots.”
Regan was silent.
“Uncle Bill?”
“I’m here,” he said awkwardly.
Dan chuckled.
“Look, if I don’t hear from you by midnight, I’ll come feed the horses in the morning, ok? You sleep in. I’m going to bet you’ll have perfect motivation to. Don’t forget to call Tom and tell them you won’t be there for dinner tonight.”
“Good lord,” Regan muttered.
“Don’t forget the condoms. Gotta go,” Dan rang off.
Regan hung up the phone and shook his head.
He did, however, follow his nephew’s advice and stopped by the drugstore.
Author's Notes
- Many thanks to Kate and Robin for editing. I don’t always listen, so any mistakes are mine!
- Word Count, 4,211
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