by Nora Roberts
“Then that gives you plenty of time.” Particularly, he thought, since the office already looked perfect. He should have known she’d make it perfect.
“Let me put it this way.” She pounded in another nail. “I’m busy, and I have no desire to talk to you. I’m not paying you to stand around and chat in any case.”
“Don’t pull that on me.” He yanked the hammer out of her hand. “You writing checks for the job doesn’t have anything to do with the rest of it. I’ll be damned if you’ll put it on that level.”
He was right, of course, and it shamed her to have it pointed out. “True enough, but our personal business is done.”
“The hell it is.” He turned and shoved the pocket door closed.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting some privacy. It doesn’t seem to be in big supply around here.”
“Open that door—then walk through it. And keep walking.”
“Sit down and shut up.”
Her eyes widened, more in shock than temper. “I beg your pardon?”
To solve the problem, he set the hammer aside—well out of her reach—walked over and pushed her into a chair. “Now listen.”
She started to leap up, was pushed down firmly again. Temper heated, but it stayed at the bubble from the sheer surprise of seeing him so furious. “So, you’ve proved you’re big and strong,” she said derisively. “You don’t have to prove you’re stupid.”
“And you don’t have to prove you’re spoiled and snotty. You try to get up again before I’m done, I’m going to tie you in that chair. I was minding my own business when Jerry came in. He’s a friend. He and Beth have gone out of their way for me and Jack, so I owe him.”
“So naturally you need to pay him back by dating his sister.”
“Be quiet, Kate. I’m not dating his sister. I don’t intend to date his sister. He was running off at the mouth, and I was shimming cabinets. I wasn’t listening to him, and by the time I tuned back in…”
Brody raked a hand through his hair, took a restless turn around the room. “He caught me off guard, and I was trying to backtrack without stomping all over his feelings. He and Tiff have always been tight. He’s worried about her, I guess, and he trusts me. What was I supposed to say? I’m not interested in your sister?”
Kate angled her chin. “Yes. But that’s not really the point.”
“Then what the hell is the point?”
“The point is you indicated, and obviously feel, there’s nothing between us but sex. I require more than that in a relationship. I demand more than that. Loyalty, fidelity, affection, respect. I expect a man to be able to say—without tripping over his own clumsy tongue—that he and I are dating. That he cares about me.”
“Damn it, it’s been nearly ten years since I dated anyone. You’d think you could cut me some slack.”
“Then you think wrong. Are we done here?”
“Man, you’re a hard case. No, we’re not done.” He yanked her to her feet. “I haven’t been with anyone else since you. I don’t want to be. I’ll make a point of making that crystal clear to Jerry or anyone else. I care about you, and I don’t appreciate being made to feel like an idiot because I don’t have a good handle on it.”
“Fine. Now let go.”
“If I could let go, I wouldn’t be standing here wanting to strangle you.”
“You insulted me. You insulted us. You’re the one who should be strangled.”
“I’m not going to apologize again.” He dragged her toward the door.
“Apologize? I didn’t hear any apology. What are you doing?”
“Just be quiet,” he ordered as he shoved the door open, continued to pull her down the corridor.
“If you don’t let go of me, this minute, I’m going to—”
The wind was knocked out of her when he simply hauled her up and over his shoulder. He clamped her legs still with one arm, yanked open the front door with his free hand.
“Have you lost your mind?” Too shocked to struggle, she shoved her hair up out of her face as he strode with her across the porch and down the front steps. “Have you completely lost your mind?”
“The minute I started thinking about you.” He scanned the street, spotted a woman coming out of the apartment building. “Excuse me! Ma’am?”
She glanced over, blinked. “Ah…yes?”
“This is Kate. I’m Brody. I just wanted you to know that we’re dating.”
“Oh, my God,” Kate whispered, and let her hair fall again.
“I see. Well…” The woman smiled, offered a little wave. “That’s nice.”
“Thanks.” Brody shifted Kate, set her on her feet in front of him. “Would you like to keep going, or are you satisfied?”
She couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Simply couldn’t shove them from where they seemed to be stuck in her throat. She solved the problem by rapping a fist against his chest and storming back into the building.
“Guess not,” Brody decided, and strode in after her.
Chapter Nine
He caught her an instant before she could slam her office door in his face. Not that it would have stopped him now that he was revved up.
“Not so fast, honey.”
“Don’t you call me honey. Don’t you speak to me.” She rounded on him. “You’re nothing but a bully. Manhandling me that way. Embarrassing me on the street.”
“Embarrassed?” He kept his eyes, every bit as hot as hers, level as he slid the door closed behind his back. “Why is that? I simply told a neighbor, without tripping over my—what was it—clumsy tongue, that we’re dating. So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is…” She retreated several steps as he advanced on her. That was another shocker—not just that he was backing her into a corner, but that she was letting him. She’d never backed down from a confrontation, and certainly never backed down from a man. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Being myself.” Damned if it didn’t feel good. “Been a while since I cut loose like this, but it’s coming back to me. We may as well find out now if you have a problem with that.”
“If you think you can—” She broke off as he grabbed her arms, pulled her up to her toes. “You’d just better calm down.”
“You’d just better catch up.” He crushed his mouth to hers and felt her instinctive jerk of protest. Ignored it.
“You got a problem with it?” he demanded lifting his head and meeting her eyes.
“Brody—” That was all she managed to say before he took her mouth over again.
“Yes or no.”
“I don’t—” His teeth scraped along her neck. “Oh God.” She couldn’t think. This had to be wrong. There had to be a dozen, two dozen, rational reasons why this was wrong.
She’d worry about them later.
“You want me to take my hands off you?” They moved over her, rough and possessive. “Yes or no. Pick now.”
“No. Damn it.” She fisted her hands in his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers.
She didn’t know who pulled whom to the floor. It didn’t seem to matter. She couldn’t tell whose hands were more impatient as they tugged at clothing. She didn’t care.
All she knew was she wanted this rough, angry man every bit as much as she’d wanted the gentle, patient one. Her body was quaking for him, her heart bounding.
So much heat. She was amazed her system didn’t simply implode from it. The sharp stabs of pain and pleasure fused together into one unbearable sensation.
Tangled together, they rolled over the floor. She set her teeth at his shoulder, craving that wild flavor of flesh.
He’d forgotten what it was to let himself want like this, to take like this. Without restriction or boundaries. To rush and plunder. His fingers tore at the triangle of lace that blocked her from him. And he drove her up, hard and high.
The bite of her nails on his back was a dark thrill, the blind shock in her eyes a viole
nt triumph. Desperate for possession, he yanked up her hips and plunged.
She rose up, that agile body quivering, her fingers digging into the rug for stability as he pounded into her. An elemental mating that fed on hot blood. Even as she cried out, he dragged her up until her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands found slippery purchase on his sweat-slicked shoulders.
She held on, riding the razor-tipped edge of pleasure, clinging to it, to him. When the climax ripped through her, shredding her system to tatters, she bowed back and let him take his own.
She melted like candle wax onto the floor when he released her. Then simply lay there, weak and sated.
She’d been ravaged. She had allowed it. And she felt wonderful.
Though his vision was still a little blurry at the edges, Brody studied her, then what was left of their clothes. “I ripped your shirt.” When her eyes fluttered open, he recognized the lazy gleam of a satisfied woman. “And these things.” He held up the tatters of her panties. “Well, I’m not going to apologize.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology.”
“Good. Because if you had, I’d have been forced to haul you outside again—naked this time—to find another neighbor. Instead you can borrow my shirt. I’ve got a spare in the truck.”
She sat up, took the offered shirt. The glow she’d felt was beginning to fade. “Are we still fighting?”
“I’m done, so I guess that’s up to you.”
She looked up. His eyes were clear now, and direct. This time it was she who fumbled—starting to speak, then shaking her head.
“No, go on. Say it. Let’s make sure the air’s completely clear.”
“You hurt my feelings.” It was lowering to admit it. Temper, she thought, was so much easier to handle than hurt.
“I get that.” He took the shirt from her, draped it over her shoulders. “And that’s something I will apologize for. If it helps any, you hurt mine right back.”
“What are we doing, Brody?”
“Trying to figure each other out, I guess. I’m not embarrassed by what we’ve got going on, Kate. I don’t want you to think that. But I don’t have a handle on it yet.”
“All right, that’s fair enough.” But it hurt a lot, she realized as she shrugged into the borrowed shirt. Hurt that she’d fallen in love, and he hadn’t. Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. She smiled a little, leaned over and up to kiss him. “You’re not a jerk. I’m sorry I called you one.”
He caught her chin. “You called me something worse than that, didn’t you?”
Now the smile spread and was genuine. “Maybe.”
“I’m going to buy a Ukrainian phrase book.”
“Good luck. Besides they just don’t have certain descriptive words and phrases in there.”
“I’m getting one anyway.” He got to his feet, drew her up to hers. “I’ve got to go pick up my kid.”
His hair was a sexy mess, his eyes lazily satisfied. He was naked to the waist. And, she thought, he was a father who had to pick up his little boy from the school bus.
“That’s part of it, isn’t it? Part of your problem with getting a grip on our relationship? Trying to juggle the man and the father together.”
“Maybe. Yes,” he admitted. “Kate, there hasn’t been anyone in…” He lifted a hand, smoothed it over his hair in some attempt to order it. “Connie was sick for a long time.” He couldn’t talk about that now, couldn’t go back there. “Jack had a rough start. I guess we both did. All I can do is make up for it.”
“You have. And you are. I know how to juggle, too, Brody. I think we can keep the balls in the air. As long as we both want to.”
“I want to.”
Her heart settled. “Then that’s also fair enough. Go get Jack.”
“Yeah.” His gaze skimmed down. “Before I do, I’d just like to say you sure look good in flannel.”
“Thanks.”
“You want a lift home?”
“No. I really do have some things to finish up here.”
“All right.” He lowered his head, touched his mouth to hers. Ended up lingering. “Gotta go.” But when he got to the door, he glanced back. “You want to go out Saturday night?”
Her eyebrow lifted. It was the first time he’d actually asked her out. It was, she supposed, some sort of progress. “I’d love to.”
How it got to be spring break when it seemed they’d just gotten through Christmas vacation, Brody didn’t know. School days had certainly not flown by when he’d been a kid.
Added to that, the Skullys had decided to take advantage of the time off to take the kids to Disney World. This had caused major problems with Jack who’d begged, pleaded and had fallen back on whining over the idea that they should go, too.
Brody had explained why it wasn’t possible just now, patiently sympathized. Then had fallen back on the parental copout—because I said so—when the siege had shown no sign of ending.
As a result, he’d had a sulky kid on his hands for two days, and a raging case of the guilts. The combination made it very crowded in the small bathroom where he was trying to lay tile.
“You never let me go anywhere,” Jack complained. He was thoroughly bored with the small pile of toys he’d been allowed to bring along.
Usually he liked coming to the job with his dad. But not when his best friend was in Disney World riding on Space Mountain. It was a gyp. A big fat gyp, he thought, relishing one of the words he’d picked up from the crew.
When his father ignored him and continued to lay tile, Jack stuck out his bottom lip. “How come I couldn’t go to Grandma’s?”
“I told you Grandma was busy this morning. She’s going to come by and pick you up in a couple of hours. Then you can go over to her house.” Thank God.
“I don’t want to stay here. It’s boring. It’s not fair I gotta stay here and do nothing while everybody else has fun. I never get to do anything.”
Brody shoved his trowel into the tray of adhesive. “Look. I’ve got a job to do. A job that sees to it you eat regular.”
Damn it, how was his father’s voice suddenly coming out of his mouth?
“I’m stuck with it,” he added, “and so are you. Now keep it up, Jack. Just keep it up, and you won’t be going anywhere.”
“Grandpa gave me five dollars,” Jack said, tearing up. “So you don’t have to buy me any food.”
“Great. Terrific. I’ll retire tomorrow.”
“Grandma and Grandpa can take me to Disney World, and you can’t go.”
“They’re not taking you anywhere,” Brody snapped, cut to the bone by the childish slap. “You’ll be lucky to go to Disney World by the time you’re thirty. Now, cut it out.”
“I want Grandma! I want to go home! I don’t like you anymore.”
Kate walked in on that, and the resulting angry, tired tears. She took one look at Brody’s exhausted, frustrated face, the cranky little boy sprawled weeping on the floor, and stepped into the fray.
“What’s all this, Handsome Jack?”
“I wanna go to Disney World.”
He sobbed it out, between hiccups. Even as Brody got to his feet to deal with it, Kate crouched down between father and son. “Oh, boy, me, too. I bet we’d all like to go there more than anyplace.”
“Dad doesn’t.”
“Sure he does. Dads like to go most of all. That’s why it’s harder for them, because they have to work.”
“Kate, I can handle this.”
“Who said you couldn’t?” she muttered, but picked up the boy and got to her feet. “I bet you’re tired of being cooped up, aren’t you, baby? Why don’t we go to my house awhile, and let Dad finish his work?”
“My mother’s coming by to get him in a couple of hours. Just let me—” He reached for his son who only curled himself like a snake around Kate—and effectively cut his heart in two.
One look at the blank hurt on Brody’s face made her want to sandwich Jack between them in a hard hug. But that, she thou
ght wasn’t the immediate answer. Distance was.
“I’m done for the day here, Brody. Why don’t you let Jack come home with me, keep me company.” Take a nap, she mouthed. “I’ll call your mother and ask her to pick him up at my house instead.”
“I want to go with Kate.” Jack sobbed against her shoulder.
“Fine. Great.” The miserable mix of temper and guilt had him snatching up his trowel again. Very much, Kate thought, like a cranky boy. “Thanks.”
He sat down heavily on an overturned bucket as he heard Jack sniffle out, as Kate carried him off: “My daddy yelled at me.”
“Yes, I know.” She kissed Jack’s hot, wet cheek as she walked downstairs. “You yelled at him, too. I bet he feels just as sad as you do.”
“Nuh-uh.” With a heavy, heavy sigh, Jack rested his head on Kate’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t take me to Disney World like Rod.”
“I know. I guess that’s my fault.”
“How come?”
“Well, your dad’s doing this job for me, and he promised me it would be done by a certain time. Because he promised, I made promises to other people who are depending on me now. If your dad broke his promise to me, then I broke mine to the other people, that wouldn’t be right. Would it, Jack?”
“No, but, maybe just this one time.”
“Does your dad break his promises to you?”
“No.” Jack’s head drooped.
“Don’t be sad, Handsome Jack. When we get to my house, we’re going to read a story about another Jack. The one with the beanstalk.”
“Can I have a cookie?”
“Yes.” In love, she gave him a hard squeeze.
He was asleep almost before Jack sold his cow for magic beans.
Poor little boy, she thought, tucking a light throw over him. Poor Brody.
She began to think she hadn’t given the man enough credit. Parenthood wasn’t all wrestling on the floor and ball games in the yard. It was also tears and tantrums, disappointments and discipline. It was saying no, having to say no, when your heart wanted to say yes.
“You’re so well loved, Handsome Jack,” she murmured and bent over to kiss the top of his head. “He needs you to know that.”