She thought she saw him gulp. “Of course I’m serious,” he said quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, for one thing, there’s a really good chance that if we live under the same roof we’ll end up killing each other.”
Alex brushed that possibility aside. “Don’t be silly. Didn’t you notice the major breakthrough we just had? We got over the whole enemies thing. We’re friends now.”
“Friends?” she repeated thoughtfully, liking the sound of it. “I don’t know, Alex. It seems like a pretty big leap to go from enemies to friends. You really think it’s possible?”
“I think that in a world where a hundred-pound woman can throw a punch like Mike Tyson, anything is possible.”
Holly took a deep breath. This was all so strange. Her home burning to ashes behind her, and Alex McKenna offering comfort. And the way they were talking to each other… It felt comfortable, like they’d known each other a long time. Which they had, of course. Just not as friends.
“I weigh a lot more than a hundred pounds.”
He stepped back and made a show of appraising her body, and Holly felt a sudden shiver pass through her that had nothing to do with the cold. Maybe staying with him wasn’t such a good—
“Okay, maybe a hundred and ten. Now, I think it’s about time you and Will come home with me where there’s a shower and a bed. What do you think?”
His blue eyes were asking her to accept his invitation, and against her better judgment, she nodded yes. He looked relieved, which probably meant he wasn’t regretting the offer. Not yet, anyway. And Holly did like the idea of taking Will to the home of someone he liked and trusted.
Liked and trusted. That sounded nice. Maybe that was why, when Alex put a hesitant arm around her shoulders as he led her away, she found herself leaning into him.
Holly couldn’t remember the last time she’d leaned on someone else for support. The realization gave her a moment of anxiety, but she put it firmly aside. There’d be plenty of time to be independent again tomorrow.
Chapter Five
Will was over by the fire truck, talking with Tom. When he saw his mom and his coach coming around the side of the house he went to meet them.
“I’m going to go take Tom home,” Alex said to Holly. “It’ll only take me a few minutes, then I’ll be back for you guys. Wait for me here, okay?”
“Okay,” Holly agreed, smiling at him gratefully, and then she was hugging Will, her son who was taller than she was and so wise beyond his years but who would always, at least in her eyes, be her little boy.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
Holly laughed through her tears. “For letting our house burn down. You do remember that, don’t you? The Stanton home, been in our family for eighty years, now a pile of damp ash? You warned me something was wrong in the kitchen and I didn’t pay attention. This is all my fault.”
He frowned at her. “You’re kidding, right? This is totally my fault. I was the one who noticed the smell, but I didn’t take it seriously enough to make you come to the kitchen right away to check it out. I let you down. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
Holly was staring at him. “Don’t do that,” she said urgently.
“Do what?”
“Take responsibility for things you’re not responsible for.”
Will snorted. “Look who’s talking. That’s your signature move, Mom.”
Holly laughed a little shakily. “You’re doing that thing where you’re so mature it freaks me out.”
“Sorry,” Will said, with a ghost of his old grin. “I’m sure I’ll make up for it later with some stupid teenage behavior.”
Mother and son stood for several minutes in silence, watching the firemen at work on the blackened ruin that had once been their home.
After a while Will spoke again. “I’ve got an idea. How about we agree it was just a terrible accident that’s no one’s fault?”
Holly took a deep breath and let it out. “Deal,” she said, giving him a quick hug. “And by the way, you’re freaking me out again.”
Alex had come back in time to hear their last exchange.
“You know, I made that exact point earlier, and you punched me in the jaw.”
Holly smiled at him. “I guess Will’s presentation is just more credible than yours.” She reached up a hand and brushed the hair off Alex’s forehead before running her fingers softly across the scar that sliced through his eyebrow to his temple. “I think it’s this scar. Gives you a disreputable air.”
At the touch of her fingers Alex took in a quick, sharp breath and then went absolutely still, forgetting to breathe at all as he stared down at her. Holly’s mind was still full of the events of the evening and she didn’t notice the intensity of his reaction.
But someone else did.
Holly was startled when her son smacked himself on the forehead. “What’s up, Will?” she asked, turning to look at him.
“Nothing,” he said. “Not important. By the way, not that it isn’t fun standing around here in front of what used to be a house, but where are we staying tonight? We could probably go to Mrs. Hanneman’s if there’s nowhere else. Or I guess we could find a hotel. Whatever we’re doing, could we do it soon? I feel like I could fall down where I’m standing.”
Holly glanced at Alex doubtfully. “Well, your coach suggested we could stay with him for a few days while we—”
“That’s a great idea!” Will said, surprising her with his enthusiasm. “I mean…thanks, Coach. It’s really nice of you. We won’t be any trouble. Or at least I won’t. Of course my mom’s kind of a handful….”
“I can handle your mom,” Alex said firmly. Will broke into a grin. Holly yawned, and stumbled suddenly, and Will and Alex each grabbed her by an arm. “You know, I think I’m a little tired, too,” she said, as if surprised by the discovery.
“Okay, time to go,” Alex said. “The firemen said we could leave whenever we wanted, and I told them where you’ll be if they need to reach you. My car’s across the street. Walking wounded carry the stretcher cases.”
Holly drifted in and out of awareness as Alex drove away from her neighborhood near the center of town and out toward the rolling farmlands on the outskirts. The next thing she knew Alex was leading her and Will into a lovely old farmhouse and turning the light on in the front hallway. She looked around her without seeing very much.
“I have three guest bedrooms,” Alex was saying as he led them upstairs, “so at least there’s plenty of room. There’s furniture, too, because I bought this place in an estate sale and a lot of the original stuff stayed.” He paused at an open doorway. “Will, why don’t you take this room? I’ll go find you some towels and a toothbrush, and you can borrow a pair of my pajamas. Wait right here.”
Holly was sorry when Alex disappeared, because his voice had been comforting, a warm, low baritone that somehow made it seem as if everything was going to be all right. She and Will looked around the small bedroom, which was a little bare, with a wrought-iron bedstead and a big oak dresser and not much else. But the bed looked comfortable, and the antique quilt on it was lovely, and Holly felt content to think of her son sleeping here tonight.
After a minute Alex was back with an armful of things for Will, which he set down on the bed. “Do you need anything else?” he asked. “Something to drink?”
Will shook his head. “Mrs. Hanneman gave me water at her place. I’m fine. I think I’m just going to shower and go to bed, if that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay. You’re not going to school tomorrow, so sleep in as late as you want.”
“Hey,” Holly protested. “We Stantons are tough. A little thing like the total destruction of everything we own doesn’t stop us from going to school and work on Monday morning.”
Alex ignored her. “Wake up when you wake up,” he said to the teenager, who nodded gratefully.
“Good night, Mom. Good night, Coach,” he said, s
tifling a yawn.
“Good night, Will,” Alex said, steering Holly out of the room.
“Well, I guess it’s all right for Will to take a day off,” Holly grumbled, “but not me. You got that, Alex McKenna?” she asked as he led her down the hall and into another bedroom. “I am going to get up at 7:00 a.m. like I always do and will you look at that bed!” she exclaimed when she saw it, a beautiful queen-size four-poster, with a scalloped headboard and a crocheted canopy.
“I thought you might like it,” said Alex, sounding pleased.
“It’s gorgeous,” Holly said, running a caressing hand over the carving on one of the bedposts. “I always wanted a bed like this, but I couldn’t justify spending the money.”
“Well,” Alex said. “I aim to please. You even have your very own bathroom, right through that door. I’ll go get you some towels and things.”
Alex disappeared and Holly wandered over to check out the bathroom. It was painted white and looked reasonably clean, if a little dilapidated. The bathtub, on the other hand, was absolutely incredible. A real Victorian style claw-foot tub that looked big enough to swim laps in.
Alex found her in the bathroom when he returned.
“What do you think?” he asked as he hung fresh towels over the bar behind the door and took a new toothbrush out of its box, placing it carefully in the holder on the sink.
“I would really love to take a bath in that thing,” Holly said, gazing wistfully at the tub.
“Well, then, why don’t you?”
Holly sighed. “It just seems too complicated right now. I’m so tired, Alex… I’ve never been this exhausted in my entire life. I think I’ll just go to bed and take a bath in the morning.”
He looked at her with one eyebrow up. “No offense, Holly, but you reek of smoke, and you look like a war refugee with all the dried blood. Don’t you think you might sleep better if you were clean? Especially when you add in the health factor of washing those scratches and getting antiseptic on them.”
Holly made a face. “You run me a bath then, since you’re so picky.” She rested her back against the bathroom wall and slid slowly down until she came to a sitting position. “I’ll just wait here so I don’t get your furniture all dirty.”
Alex looked down at her for a moment. She looked small and forlorn in her dirty nightgown with her red hair wild around her pale smudged face, and she still had more attitude in her little finger than any woman he’d ever met. “Fine,” he said, shaking his head.
This was all he needed, he thought, as he turned on the water and it thundered into the tub in a cloud of steam. It was bad enough she’d be sleeping under his roof, now he was running her a bath she’d be getting into soon, where she’d be naked and wet and…
“There’s no soap in here,” he said, not looking at Holly. “Just let the tub fill while I get some.”
When he came back Holly’s head was resting against the wall and her eyes were closed. Alex checked the water level, turning off the faucet and testing the temperature with his hand. Hot but not too hot. Nice and deep, too. This tub was huge.
A worrisome thought occurred and he asked, “You’re not going to fall asleep in there, are you? It would be pretty pathetic if you escaped a fire only to drown in my bathtub.”
Holly opened her eyes and shook her head solemnly. “Nope, I won’t drown. At least I don’t think I will. Thank you for running the bath, Alex.” She sat there, blinking up at him, and Alex held out a hand to pull her to her feet.
“Tell you what,” he said reluctantly. “You get in there and have a good soak, and I’ll go get some antiseptic and something for you to wear to bed, and then I’ll wait outside to make sure you’re okay.”
“That would be nice,” Holly said seriously.
She reached for the buttons on her nightgown and Alex backed away hastily. “Okay, then, I’ll be in the bedroom. Take your time, have fun, don’t fall asleep.” He got out of there fast and closed the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief.
Oh, boy, was this a bad idea, he thought to himself as he looked in his dresser for something to give Holly to wear. How long was she going to be here? Long enough to drive him insane with lust? Could lust actually drive a person insane? Maybe he’d be the first American male to test that theory. The first one committed to an institution after a week of living under the same roof with a woman he couldn’t have.
You asked for this, Alex thought grimly as he grabbed hydrogen peroxide and bandages from his medicine chest. He’d invited them to stay here. Both of them, he reminded himself. Let’s not forget the fifteen-year-old kid in the next bedroom. Even if Holly could be persuaded to sleep with him, which would never happen for about a hundred different reasons, the most important was that her son was staying here, too.
Alex sat down on her bed to wait for Holly to finish, and a few minutes later she opened the door.
“Hi,” she said, blushing a little and keeping a tight grip on the front of her towel. She looked a little more awake now, her face pink, her hair lying in damp red ringlets against her bare shoulders, with droplets of water still clinging to her skin.
Alex levered himself up and started to retreat toward the door. “The medicine and bandages are on the bed. I brought you some things you could sleep in, too. I wasn’t sure what would be the most comfortable, so I brought you a couple of different pajama tops and some T-shirts. No, um, underwear of course—” he coughed “—but there’ll be plenty of time to go shopping tomorrow. I’ll take you in the morning, when you wake up.”
She was frowning at him. “I’m going to work in the morning.”
At least when she was irritating it helped distract him from her body. “No, you’re not,” he said, speaking slowly and distinctly.
“Yes, I am,” she said, speaking just as slowly and distinctly.
Alex sighed and tried to think of her weaknesses. “You’re just going to leave Will to cope with the trauma by himself?” Holly bit her lip and he pursued his advantage. “All I’m suggesting is that you take one day off to spend time with your son, so both of you can recover a little. Besides,” he added reasonably, “you don’t have anything to wear to work, unless you want to go in a pair of my pajamas. We need to take you shopping for one of those boring suits you like before you can go back.”
She was glaring at him, but he could tell he had her. “Fine,” she said grudgingly. “I will take one day off.” Her glare suddenly gave way to an enormous yawn. “I guess I should go to bed now,” she said, looking and sounding exhausted, and Alex nodded.
“Good night, Holly,” he said at the door.
“Good night, Alex.”
He closed the door softly behind him and went down the hall to his own bed, where he lay awake a long time before he finally fell asleep.
Holly woke up sore and aching and with a weary lassitude in every muscle. She opened her eyes, and memories of last night came flooding back.
There was a sudden weight in her chest, a clogging in her throat, a stinging behind her eyes. She turned her head into the pillow and cried for her home, for everything that had been lost. She cried for a long time.
After a while the tears stopped coming, and she rolled onto her back again. She lay there for several minutes, taking in deep breaths and letting them out again, watching the play of sunlight on the blue-and-green quilt. She turned her head to look out of the window and saw a huge maple tree right outside, glorious in October shades of red and orange and yellow.
There was a knock on her door, and when she called out, “Come in,” Alex was there.
He looked easy and comfortable in sweatpants and an old T-shirt. He had a pair of jeans over his arm, and he was carrying a tray.
“I must have done something right in a past life, after all,” she said, sitting up against the headboard. “At least men keep bringing me breakfast in bed.”
“Men?” Alex repeated with a frown, setting the tray down over her knees and sitting down on the foot of the bed
. “What men? Who’s been bringing you breakfast in bed?”
“Just Will,” she answered, inhaling the delicious aroma of coffee and hot buttered toast. There was fruit, too, sliced up and arranged on a plate. “He’s on this health kick, thanks to you I think, where he insists on cooking us both a lot of hearty breakfasts that I never eat.” She looked again at the tray in front of her. “Normally I don’t have a big appetite when I first wake up in the morning, but this really looks good.”
Holly glanced up in time to catch his grin, and her heart skipped a beat. That was one killer smile. And now she’d be seeing it every day.
“That’s because it isn’t morning,” he informed her. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. You slept for twelve hours, beating your son by about forty-five minutes. He’s had his hearty breakfast and is now downstairs pawing through my music collection. What does it mean when a fifteen-year-old likes your taste in CDs? Does it mean you’re really cool, or that he’s kind of a geek?”
“Will is not a geek,” she said indignantly.
“Which must mean I’m cool,” he said smugly, grinning at her again, which made her think it might be a good idea to focus on something else, like her coffee. She looked down at the big blue mug, three quarters full of steaming black fluid, and added cream and sugar with careful attention.
“Mmm,” she said after the first sip and looked at him in surprise. “You make good coffee.”
“After thirty-five years as a bachelor, yes, I have learned to make good coffee.”
He was looking at the left side of her face as he spoke, and suddenly he leaned forward, running the tip of his index finger lightly over the scratch there. It hadn’t turned out to be very deep or serious after Holly had cleaned it last night, and she hadn’t even bothered with a Band-Aid.
The sensation of Alex’s fingertip tickled a little bit, making her shiver, and Holly turned her head away. But then his fingers were twining around a strand of her hair that he tucked behind her ear. Holly drew in a sharp breath.
“That scratch looks a lot better today,” he said softly, his touch lingering, and Holly felt her stomach muscles tighten. She licked her lips nervously and Alex pulled away, clearing his throat.
Winning the Right Brother Page 7