by Lauren Dane
“I’m coming back right now. I’ll just head straight to the airport.”
“Brody will be so pissed if you come back here without making sure there’s a reason to. Why don’t you wait. Sit tight and I’ll call you the minute I know anything else.”
“Um, let me see. Hmm, what to say, what to say? Oh, I know. Fuck you. I’m coming back. Do you think for one second he’d just hang out in the city to be interviewed and get blown by hot chicks if one of us got hit by a fuckin’ car? If I didn’t know you were only trying to manage everyone and keep us all happy, I’d be insulted. You call me the second you hear anything. I’m in the limo and on the way right now.”
“I told you the just-stay-in-New-York-unless-we-hear-bad-news thing wasn’t going to work for him. You Browns are all stubborn as hell.” Todd looked at her in the rearview mirror. “He’s going to be all right, darlin’.”
Which she knew, of course. But this was her brother, and she’d feel a hell of a lot better when she was able to see it for herself.
Brody was in X-ray when they arrived at the hospital, but the nurse didn’t seem too worried. Another hour passed, Erin stepped out to leave a message on Adrian’s voice mail, and finally they got to see Brody.
“Christ a’mighty, why are you here looking like someone kicked your kitten?” Brody was grumpy in his paper gown, but Erin saw him fight a smile when she fussed over him. “I almost said ‘ate,’ and then I remembered who I was talking to.”
She rolled her eyes. “Someone’s had some pain pills. From the sound of it, they gave you the good stuff. Now, do kindly shut up. You’re coming to our house for a few days, where I can keep an eye on you.”
“You shut up. I’m older and I’m not going to your palace of decadence and deviance.” He made a raspberry sound and Todd burst out laughing.
She didn’t feel like laughing. Erin wanted to punch someone for his scaring the crap out of her. What on earth would she do without Brody? The very thought of him not being around had left her sweaty, grumpy and slightly depressed despite the evidence that he would recover completely.
“You got hit by a car. I’ll be the judge of where you go. A hitand-run. Oh my god. Your neighborhood is so nice. What the hell is the world coming to?”
Brody squeezed her hand. “Baby girl, I’m fine. Some bruising, a bump on my head, but nothing broken. I’m pissy, I’m hungry, and I feel like someone ran over me with a car. I want to go home. I want to eat and take a few more of these very fine painkillers, and I want to watch The Matrix in bed.”
“Adrian is on his way back. I told him to stay in New York but he said bad words to me.”
Brody barked a laugh as he signed the release papers. “You gonna want me to kick his butt? You’re on your own there. The two of you are the exact same. Full of shit. It’s a wonder all my hair didn’t go gray after seeing you through teenagerdom. Now, let’s get me home. I want to stop at Red Mill.”
That was a good sign. “If you want to eat burgers, you must be feeling better.”
Carefully they helped him into the shirt Ben had been smart enough to bring along and led him to the car.
Despite the official okay to leave, Erin worried. She kept at his side, her hand tucked in his even as they drove back. She didn’t plan to let him out of her sight for the time being. The scent of the hospital had been bad enough. If he hadn’t been holding her hand, it would have been shaking.
He brushed his lips over the top of her head. “You all right? I know how much you hate hospitals.”
Being understood that way made her love him even more. This man who, at seventeen, had stepped in to raise his younger siblings. A man who never complained about giving up his dreams to make sure theirs came true. And here he was, bruised and damaged from being hit by a car, and he was worried about her feelings.
“I’m fine. You’re here. Thank God you’re here and okay.” How very blessed she was to have so many wonderful people who loved her.
He sighed and pulled her close. “I sure do love you.”
“Back atcha. By the way—Elise? Your neighbor who called? She sounds really cute. What’s she like?”
Ben burst out laughing. “Honey, let the man get his stitches out before you start trying to play matchmaker, why don’t you?”
Erin blew raspberries at Ben. “What? She seemed very nice. She has one of those soft, gentle voices, but she must have her shit together enough to deal with some stranger covered in ink and blood. I like that. Who’s to say she’s not hot? And looking for a nice man? Sheesh. You have to grab opportunity with both hands when it comes.”
Brody just shook his head and groaned when a wave of dizziness hit. “I’m not looking for a nice woman. I’m not looking for a woman, period. I think she’s got a kid anyway. Probably a husband too. I don’t do married women.”
“Leave him alone, gorgeous.” Todd chuckled, and Erin made a snuffling sound. Brody knew his sister; she did what she wanted to do, accident or not. God knew he was helpless against her most of the time.
“Thank God, we’re home.” Good thing, before his sister had him engaged and choosing silverware patterns with the woman across the street.
Hell, all he could remember of her was the pale hair and the sweetness of her smile. She was probably covered in spots and had buck teeth. He’d had a head injury after all; his memory was most likely faulty.
4
“Go the hell home. You’ve been here nearly twelve hours now.” Raven pointed toward the back door and glared. “You just got hit by a freaking car a few days ago. If Erin or Adrian find out I’ve let you be here this long, I’ll never hear the end of it. Especially from Adrian, who already thinks I’m evil incarnate. Now go.”
He bent and kissed her soundly. She allowed it for a few moments until she gave his bottom lip a hard nip.
“You wound me.”
She laughed. “Now go home, please. You look pale. Do you need me to come over and bring you dinner?”
Raven, the woman he’d once loved until she’d broken his heart, and then he’d come to like her and realized like was better. Safer. She summered in Seattle and worked in his shop, helped him run things when it suited her. Most of Raven’s life was about what suited her, he had realized some years before. At one time it had hurt him deeply, but now he just accepted it as part of who she was.
Still, he knew she cared about him in her own way. And she was right. He had a headache from concentrating on the fine line work in a full sleeve he’d spent hours on that day. His back ached, his eyes were dry. The constant buzz of the needle machines, the scent of the ink, of skin and disinfectant—of his shop—was usually a comfort, but it was getting on his nerves today.
“I’ll get takeout. I’d guess Adrian is still camped in my house anyway.”
Raven laughed. “He’s still refusing to go home?”
“Eating me out of house and home. I’d forgotten how much that lean body could tuck away morning, noon and night. Thank God he can afford his own groceries now. The man has his own freaking palace with a view and he insists on sleeping in one of my spare rooms. I’m fine. I keep telling you all that.”
“If you got in the habit of calling it a guest room instead of Adrian’s room, I might believe you were annoyed by his presence. They want to do for you the way you’ve done for them, time and again. Now stop your pussy-assed whining and go home.”
Tenderness burst through him and pride as well. His siblings had grown into such exceptional and gifted people. He’d had a part in that and it made him smile, even as they were overprotective and annoying.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going now. Thanks for holding down the fort while I’ve been out.”
“What out? Puhleeze, Brody. You’ve been here every day but the one where you were hit. Sheesh.” She swatted his ass and he laughed as he left.
He pulled into the driveway, and on his way to the front door, he spotted her. The woman he’d begun to believe he’d dreamed up. She struggled to her front door wi
th an armful of bags, and he found himself sprinting over there, heedless of his aches.
“Hey, let me help you.” Her head snapped up and she paled, stepping back. His smile slipped from his face as he was offended for a moment. Was she shrinking back from him because of the tattoos?
Her smile came then, shy but genuine, and his confusion was replaced by other, more immediate and pleasant feelings. “Oh, you startled me. Brody, right? How are you feeling?” A child came streaking around the corner, hugging a soccer ball to her chest.
“Yep, Brody. Can I help you with those?” He gestured at the bags. He tried not to loom or be scary. He wasn’t looming—well, he was, but it was only due to the fact that she was so small.
After a slight hesitation, she nodded and handed him two while she opened her front door and led him inside.
“Momma, who’s that ginormous guy in our kitchen?”
“Sweet Christ,” the pretty blonde, obviously the mother to the little girl, muttered, and Brody tried not to laugh.
“Irene, this is our neighbor. You remember? Mr. Brown is the man who got hit by the car on Saturday. Also, try to remember your manners.” She turned to Brody. “This is Irene, my daughter.”
Big, deep blue eyes blinked up at him, and her smile showed a gap where she’d lost a tooth on the top. All in all, a pretty cute kid as far as kids went. “Oh, yeah. You didn’t look so huge when you were on the ground. I brought over the first-aid kit and the phone for Momma to call the police.”
He put the bags on the table and grinned down at the miniature version of the larger woman. “Hey there. I’m Brody. Thanks for helping me this weekend.”
“Anytime. Momma says we’re part of a community, and community means you help each other.”
He nodded. This kid reminded him a lot of Erin. Firecracker. He wondered what the mother was like. He looked back to her, she of the very soft voice and the scared rabbit nerves. Thank God those had seemed to calm a bit; her eyes had stopped darting all around, but her small frame still held tension.
As he’d thought of Erin, he also realized he recognized the look on his savior’s face. The fear there wasn’t of him personally. Someone did something to her or she saw something to make her react that way. Anger, unbidden, washed over him a moment at the idea of anyone harming a woman—this woman.
He held his hand out and she took it. Soft skin to go with the voice. Small, fragile even. An urge to protect her washed over him. He tried to bury it. “I wanted to thank you too. Did you tell me your name was Angel?”
She laughed, blushing. “No.” He let go, but his skin felt her touch for long moments more. “You called me angel when you looked up at me. The hair maybe? The sun behind me? You were pretty out of it. I’m Elise.”
He grinned. He liked the blush, and the lack of a wedding ring on her left hand as well. “You do have that sort of face. Angelic. Beautiful. My sister wants to thank you too. She’s pretty protective and she’d have been a lot more upset if she’d gotten the call from the hospital instead of you. So I thank you for that also.”
“I’m glad you’re all right. Did they catch the person who hit you?”
“Not yet. They have his identity, thanks to you and your sharp eyes. But he’s on the run. He’s got a long history of DUI, and this is apparently one of those last-chance things. It’s probably why he didn’t stop.”
“Either that or he’s the kind of thoughtless jerk who repeatedly drives drunk, gets stopped, arrested, set free and drives drunk again.” Her mouth twisted and he saw something in her eyes, just for a brief moment, before it slid away again.
“Could be. Sorry, I was having a glass-half-full moment.”
“Join me on the dark side. We have cookies to go with our halfempty glasses of milk.”
He started and then laughed. “I do like cookies.”
She blushed again, and he knew he’d be back, because he had a bit of a like on for the very charming, blushing Elise. Like was a good thing between two single adults. Especially if it entailed naked and horizontal moments.
“I’ll see you around the neighborhood then, Elise. Thank you again, for everything.” He stepped back, and he didn’t fail to notice the way her spine lost some of its tension.
She walked him to the door, and he waved, winking at Irene before he turned to amble on back to his place.
Elise managed to hold off fanning her face until she’d shut the door and locked it . . . and sneaked another look at a man who looked damn fine from the back. He’d startled her, but she’d learned enough from the neighbors to know he wasn’t a man prone to violence or harm.
On the ground as he’d been the weekend before, or from a distance, he hadn’t seemed so huge. But christamighty, he was gigantic. For a moment when he’d first reached her, he’d towered over her. Fear had washed through her, evoking that fight-or-flight response, and it had been a hard-fought moment to get herself back under control.
He must have sensed something, because he stepped back, not quickly and not really slowly. But he gave her space and it allowed her to breathe again. And that’s when she really began to see him.
He was . . . Well, there wasn’t any other man she could compare him to really. His hair was close-cropped but tousled. If it had been longer she’d have bet he’d have had thick curls. Dark as night. The neatly trimmed goatee and mustache worked for him, framed a mouth she was quite convinced would deliver some devastating goodness. He wasn’t going to hurt her, she knew that much.
No, she was threatened on a whole different level. Like a sensory bomb had gone off as she’d stood there, resisting the urge to rub herself on him. So alluring, this man. His voice, oh good lord, his voice was like suede. Deep and rough/soft. When he wasn’t on the ground, out of it and bloody, he was hot. Up close, he was . . . a bit overwhelming. More than handsome— he was too hard-edged to be handsome—he was compelling, magnetic.
She needed to keep her distance until she figured it out. She was suspicious of her response to him. When she’d met Ken, it had been lust at first sight. He had been a big personality too. He’d taken over every conversation, had managed every detail until she’d been in so deep it was all she could do to tread water and not drown.
When it had been good, he was a force of nature. Funny, solicitous, affectionate, intelligent and creative. But he had demons, and instead of dealing with them appropriately, he’d self-medicated, and it had turned those demons into pain for everyone around him.
No, she couldn’t be trusted, couldn’t know if her attraction was to someone real or to some idea. God knew she couldn’t survive another Ken, and until she got a mental handle on herself and what brought about certain choices in her life, she’d forgo relationships.
She had Rennie to raise and a business to run. She knew she’d have sex with someone in the future—she was a woman in the sexual prime of her life, and there was only so much masturbation she could engage in. After a while, masturbation felt empty. It met her need, but it was not the same as having a man above you. However, love was out of the picture. Romance was out of the picture. She didn’t have the time and she didn’t know if she had the heart anymore.
Sex with Brody Brown? Well, now, that wasn’t such a bad idea. She hadn’t dated in a million years, but she remembered enough to recognize the attraction in Brody’s eyes, the way he lingered, his gaze snagging on her mouth.
Enough of that for the moment! She’d turn into a puddle of goo if she kept thinking along those lines.
“Rennie, let’s get those groceries unloaded and then we’ll make dinner and you can call your grandmother before your bath.”
Rennie froze a moment, panic on her face. “No.”
Alarmed, Elise knelt before her daughter and took her hands. “Noodle? What’s wrong?”
Her normally good-natured daughter crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to. You can’t make me.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“Take a bath? You’re a mess, you’ll feel better afte
r you get all cleaned up.”
“I don’t want to call them. I don’t want to talk to her.”
Had Rennie and Martine had some sort of falling out? Rennie would have said, or her mother. Elise had just spoken to her mother the day before, and there had been no mention of a problem. “You never have to talk to Gran and Pops if you don’t want to. I thought you’d like to tell them about your day, but if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”
“Gran? I thought you meant the other one. Momma, I don’t like talking to her. She’s not nice and she never wants to hear about school. She only wants to hear about what you’re doing and saying. She makes my tummy hurt.”
Holding back a sigh, she took Rennie in her arms and smoothed a hand up and down her spine. Helplessness washed through her at her inability to excise these damned people from her child’s life. “I’m sorry. I wish I could . . . You have to talk to them once a month. The court says so. But the fifteenth is next week, so you don’t have to talk to them until then. I can be with you, in the room, when you talk to them if you want. You can snuggle on my lap.”
“I can?”
“Totally. That’s what my lap is for. Now, go on upstairs, wash your face and come back down to help me put away the groceries, okay?”
Rennie perked up. “Okay. Be right back!” She ran upstairs, her footfalls a thunder above Elise’s head as she headed into her bathroom.
God, she hated that her child got so upset over the calls from the Sorensons. She hated being powerless to protect her from it. Hated that it was the lesser of many evils so they had to endure it in exchange for those people staying out of Rennie’s life on any greater level.
Her upset forgotten, Rennie charged back downstairs, ready to help. Her normal demeanor was back in evidence and Elise relaxed a bit as they began to unload the groceries.
Rennie danced around the kitchen, singing a song from her endlessly changing repertoire as she spun and put things in cabinets. The kid not only had her father’s eye for painting and drawing, but also the natural grace of her mother. Elise was proud and wary of that power and talent. It took so much energy to guide her daughter in the right direction. Rennie needed the stimulus, thrived on experience and affection as any child would. There were times when Elise wondered if she was enough.