Home > When We Touch (Whiskey Creek 0.5)(2)

When We Touch (Whiskey Creek 0.5)(2)
Author: Brenda Novak

His scowl darkened. “What women with broken hearts?”

She could’ve named a few. Some of them were acquaintances. He was a tempting challenge—few women could refuse him. But he didn’t give her the chance to be more specific. He was still talking.

“I’m going to assume you’re angry or you wouldn’t have said that. You’re obviously having a bad day.”

Ah, the understatement of the year. And since she had to face Kyle and Noelle as well as her parents in the next few minutes, her day was going to get worse.

“We had a class together, remember?” he added. “I took you to my junior prom. I’ve always liked you just fine.”

She couldn’t see his eyes, but she sensed that they were moving over her, taking inventory of what her clothes revealed. Instinctively she wanted to cover up. The only thing stopping her was the sure knowledge that doing so would draw more attention to her atypical attire. “And—” he grinned “—from what I can see so far, I’m going to like the new you even more.”

What had she been thinking when she’d put on this outfit? If Kyle didn’t regret what he’d done by now, a pair of short shorts and a low-cut blouse wouldn’t do the trick. It was too late to save what they’d had, anyway. It wasn’t as if she could take him back.

“I dressed in a weak moment,” she explained, her face burning. “I needed to feel attractive.”

“Mission accomplished.” He whistled. “You could stop traffic. You stopped me, didn’t you?”

She considered the amusement on his face. “I’m pretty sure you thought I was having engine trouble.”

“To be honest, I thought a bee had gotten into your car and you were under attack.”

“Thanks for the visual. That helps with the embarrassment. But it wasn’t that bad.”

His eyebrows rose above his sunglasses. “It was alarming. But back to your changed wardrobe. I don’t think showing that much skin is the best way to recover.” He scratched his smooth-shaven chin. “I mean…I’d hate to see you wind up with the wrong kind of guy. Again.”

“Kyle was the wrong kind of guy?” She was anxious to hear his justification for that statement. The general belief was that Brandon was the less reliable of the two. Kyle had attended UC Berkeley on an academic scholarship while getting a degree in electrical engineering. He’d started his own company manufacturing solar panels after that, which was currently making him rich. He was strong, kind, talented.

Maybe he wasn’t quite as handsome as his stepbrother, but his attention wasn’t nearly as fleeting, either.

“For you he was completely wrong,” Brandon maintained as if he’d been able to see it all along.

The uncertainty she’d always felt in his presence returned. She’d caught him watching her since that prom. Most of the time he turned away the second she noticed, but occasionally their eyes met and held, and she remembered how badly she’d once wished he’d call. “Who would be better?” she challenged.

Mouth quirking up on one side, he said, “Why don’t you follow me to my place and put yourself back together before you walk into the lion’s den? We can talk about it.”

It was a kind suggestion. One she never would’ve expected—not from him. But she could guess why he was suddenly so helpful. He’d love nothing more than to shove a connection with her in Kyle’s face.

And therein lay the appeal of his offer….

“Do you think your stepbrother will hear about it if I do?” she asked.

He chuckled softly. “We can make sure of it.”

That kind of petty revenge was beneath her. But the idea of turning the tables on Kyle, and by extension Noelle, was tempting. “He’d hate it,” she mused. “Whether he’s marrying my sister or not.” She knew because of that last call, the apology, the crack in his voice when he’d said he’d always love her. The memory of it brought fresh tears to her eyes….

A truck was coming up from behind. To get out of its way, Brandon stepped close enough that she could pick up his scent in the air that blasted into her car as the truck whooshed by. He smelled as good as he looked. But that was no surprise. She recalled dancing with him as a sophomore, pressing her nose into his warm neck in an effort to remember his scent. She’d instinctively known that was the only part of Brandon a girl could safely capture.

“He wouldn’t want you to be with anyone else, but me least of all,” he agreed.

Obviously he liked the idea of upsetting Kyle as much as she did. Problem was…associating with Brandon came with a certain amount of risk. For one, the way she was dressed could be misleading. He might assume she’d changed, become promiscuous, like the girls he usually preferred. And what if she fell into her own trap? Brandon was like a meteor. He burned hot and bright as he crashed through a woman’s orbit, but he left a lot of damage in his wake and nothing, no one, slowed him down. Although some girls welcomed the thrill of trying—he never lacked for female companionship—Olivia was already nursing a broken heart. She had no business being alone with this man, especially while she was on the rebound.

On the other hand, she was tired of trying to turn the other cheek. She was also tired of being so darn careful with her love life. Kyle was supposed to have been a wise choice, a man who wanted to settle down and have a family. And look how well that had turned out. He was having a family, all right. With her sister. Noelle was pregnant, hence the rush on the wedding. Her mother wanted Noelle married off before she started to show.

“Are you coming?” Brandon asked when she didn’t answer.

Were they going to be allies? She found that a bit ironic, considering that, after prom, they’d never even been friends. She’d been one of the few who’d understood that wanting Brandon would only end in misery. “If I go to your house, it doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping with you,” she said, taking a stab at his motivation for inviting her.

He jammed his fists into the pockets of his baggy shorts. “Kyle won’t know that.”

Her injured hand was beginning to throb. She should head to her parents’ house, change into something more sensible and make an ice pack. She was supposed to arrive in time for dinner. But if she showed up there in the next few minutes, they’d question her about her red eyes even if she concocted a good excuse for her hand. She couldn’t stand the thought of that, especially if they cornered her in front of Noelle, who would know exactly what was wrong and take great satisfaction in being the cause of it.

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