Hold Me Close: BWWM Romance (Brothers From Money Book 6)

by Shanade White

  “Thank you,” he said, stopping her. “I’m sorry if I was rude yesterday. I was very tired, although that’s not really a good excuse for bad manners.”

  She turned back to his table. “That’s okay, you did look really tired,” she said, trying not to meet his eyes.

  “I must have looked a fright, but you took care of me and I appreciate that,” he said, smiling up at her.

  She couldn’t help herself, she met his eyes and her heart gave a lurch, making her catch her breath for just a second. “It’s my job to take care of my customers, wouldn’t stay in business if I didn’t,” she managed to say.

  “Well, you do a good job of it,” he said, pointing to his plate.

  “I’ll let you eat that before it gets cold,” she said, backing away from the table, her heart pounding in her chest, a little tingle of desire fluttering in her belly.

  Scarlet managed to get through breakfast without embarrassing herself, but she was very conscious of the man sitting in the booth. He’d finished his breakfast but didn’t seem in any rush to go, lingering over his coffee while he watched people coming and going on Main Street. The last time she’d tried to refill his coffee, he’d refused politely, then turned back to the window. When he finally paid his check, he asked where he could buy a map, wrote down the directions, left her a big tip, and walked out the door.

  Like an adolescent, she spent the whole day fantasizing about the blonde stranger, imagining different scenarios to explain why he’d suddenly shown up in town. Embarrassingly enough, they all ended with them together in her bed, so when he walked thought the door for dinner that night, Scarlet thought she’d die. She’d assumed, incorrectly once again, that he’d been on his way out of town, but instead the object of all her wild fantasies that day was sitting in the booth he seemed to prefer.

  She managed to get through dinner without any major accidents. Thankfully, the man was very quiet. But as he was paying his check, he introduced himself. “I’m Marc Terrell. Looks like I’m going to stay around for a while,” he said, sticking out his hand.

  “Oh, I’m Scarlet Carter. It’s nice to meet you,” she said, putting her hand in his, gasping when electricity shot through her arm.

  Marc must have felt it as well because he released her hand quickly, a confused look on his face. “So, um, I’ll probably see you in the morning,” he said, turning and striding out of the diner.

  She watched him go, her hand still warm where he’d held it, remembering what it was like to feel sexual attraction to a man. That wonderful tingly feeling that started in the belly and spread, making you feel wonderful all over. He’d said that he would be in town for a while, he hadn’t said why, but it wouldn’t be long before someone found out; nothing stayed a secret in a town this size.

  Chapter 3

  Over the rest of the week, a pattern developed. Marc would come in for breakfast and dinner. First, they’d exchange polite conversation, he’d order his meal, eat it, and wave goodbye on his way out the door. What he did during the day she wasn’t sure. But there had been whispers that he’d been out looking for a job in construction, which was nearly impossible in this part of the country. Those jobs were always scooped up by locals in only hours; word of mouth a powerful tool in a small town like Miner’s Ridge.

  When Friday night passed with no sign of Marc, Scarlet began to believe that he’d given up and left town. She was a little hurt that he hadn’t stopped by to say goodbye. But then she realized that she was being silly, it wasn’t like they had become friends, he’d only been in town for a few days. What she’d miss, she realized, was that little thrill she got anytime she was near him.

  It was almost closing time, so she was in the back taking a quick inventory of her supplies before the weekend, when she heard the front door open. She assumed it was one of the deputies from the sheriff’s office, who always stopped by at night to take her deposit to the bank, a service she appreciated. Kevin, making the same assumption, put together some food for them to take with them, something she always did in return.

  But when she came out of the kitchen, Styrofoam containers in hand, it was to find Marc sitting at the counter. The fact that he was sitting at the counter was strange enough, but he had his head in his hands, clearly upset. “Hey,” she said, setting the containers on the counter.

  “Hey,” he said, looking up at her, but without the usual smile he always gave her.

  “Bad day?” she asked, setting a glass of tea down in front of him.

  “You could say that. But it’s more like bad month, year, and life,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, clearly feeling defeated.

  “Wow. That bad, huh?” She wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  He took a long drink of his tea, then set it down. “Thanks for the tea. I could use something stronger than that, but I can’t face the bar,” he said, sitting back on the stool and taking a deep breath.

  Scarlet thought about the beer she had in the refrigerator in the kitchen; she couldn’t serve it to Marc, but she had an idea. Pushing her selfish part in her scheme from her mind, she asked, “Have you eaten?”

  “No, but I’m not really hungry,” he said, shrugging his shoulders again.

  “Come with me, I have an idea,” she said, heading back into the kitchen.

  Marc couldn’t help but follow. Even as down as he was feeling, his attraction to Scarlet was still simmering under the surface. He’d never been in the kitchen, but he wasn’t surprised to find that it was spotless and very organized. After a quick introduction to Kevin, she put together two plates of food for them: fat pieces of fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy.

  She went over to the walk-in cooler and grabbed a couple of beers, then asked, “Kevin, can you close up for me?”

  Kevin gave her a strange look, but shook his head yes, then headed out front looking over his shoulder at her as he went. Scarlet handed the beers to Marc and picked up the plates and headed up the stairs. “If we eat upstairs, we can have the beers. I have to warn you though, it’s a bit of a mess up here.”

  Marc watched Scarlet’s curvy butt as she walked up the stairs in front of him, not really hearing her words, glad that he’d stopped by instead of going straight back to the hotel. Just being around her was making him feel better and not just because he liked looking at her. There was something about Scarlet that made him feel comfortable. They hadn’t even know each other for a week, but he felt like he could tell her anything.

  When they stepped into the apartment, he realized that she hadn’t been kidding about the mess. It was clear that there’d been a leak in the roof; all the walls and the ceiling showed water stains and warping in places. She set their plates on a table pushed into one corner, then turned on a lamp on a table by the couch. The few pieces of furniture in the room looked old and worn, something you might see in a college apartment.

  “I rented it out for a while before the roof leaked, but the tenant moved out, not that I can blame them. I had enough money for the roof, but not to fix this,” she said, sweeping her arm around the room.

  “It doesn’t look that bad, just needs some drywall and paint,” he said, sitting down in the chair she pointed to and opening their beers.

  Taking a sip from the beer he handed her, she shook her head negatively and said, “I thought that as well, but when the building inspector came in here, he had a fit about the kitchen and bathroom. They’re not up to code, which was fine when I was living here, but to rent it I have to have it all upgraded.”

  Marc took a couple sips of his beer, looking around the room. “How old is this building?”

  “It’s one of the original buildings in town, the first one made of brick,” she said, pushing the plate of food over to him. “Eat before it gets cold.”

  They ate in silence for a while, the food taking all their attention. But once their hunger was assuaged, Marc got up and wandered around the room, looking at the damaged walls. Scarlet took their plates into the kitchen and he
followed, noting the old appliances and rusted plumbing. It would be quite a job to renovate the apartment, especially considering its age. His brother Michael would have loved to get his hands on it.

  “It’s a good little apartment, just big enough for a couple,” he said.

  “My son, Sean, and I lived here for the first three years, but as he got older we needed more space so I bought a house,” she explained, looking out the windows at the stars.

  Marc came and stood next to her, leaning against the wall. “How old is Sean?” he asked, finding that he actually wanted to know. He’d never really been around any kids. He honestly didn’t even know if he liked them or wanted any of his own.

  “He turned fourteen last November. He’s going to start his first summer job on Monday, so he’s spending the night at a friend’s house tonight,” she said, clearly proud of her son.

  Marc looked out the window thinking about what it would be like to have a child that old. It was possible, although he would have had to be a young dad. He wondered how old Scarlet was but would never ask, but she had to be his age or even a little older. Still, she must have been very young when Sean was born.

  They were silent for a while, drinking their beer, each lost in their own thoughts. The town was deserted, only the street lamps casting their glow on the park. Marc looked out the window at the mountains, the moon illuminating their peaks, then down to the fenced in patch of weeds.

  “Do you own this whole block?” he asked, realizing that the diner was inside the fence for the first time.

  “I’m afraid I do, that mess belongs to me,” she said, laughing. “It was even worse when I got here. Instead of the wooden fence, there was an ugly chain link one. I had big plans for that space, a huge garden with a greenhouse where I could grow my own vegetables, or I also thought about an outdoor area where we could have live music or something.”

  “But you never did it?” he asked, envisioning her plans.

  “Well, money became a problem. It’s expensive to raise a child, even in a place like this. But I’ll make it happen someday,” she said, her voice a little shaky. Marc was standing close enough to her that she could feel his body heat warming her shoulder. If she wanted to, she could have leaned back against him where he stood, and she found that she was more tempted than she should be to do so.

  “I can understand that,” he said, thinking that he’d never in his entire life had to worry about how to pay for something. Even now, he had a nice sum in his bank account, more than enough to live in this little town for a long time.

  Scarlet looked up at him and patted the seat next to her. When he sat down, her heart began to beat faster, but she managed to get herself under control. “Do you want to talk about what had you so upset tonight? What brought you to Miner’s Ridge? It’s not exactly the kind of place most people seek out,” she said, meeting his eyes and trying to ignore the stirring inside her.

  He was silent for so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he said, “I guess the easiest way to explain it is to say that I ran away from home.” Scarlet thought immediately that he’d left his wife, but when she looked down at his hand, she didn’t see a ring. As if reading her thoughts, he added, “Not from a wife, but from my brother.”

  “From your brother?” was all she could think to ask, knowing that there had to be a lot more to the story that he wasn’t telling her.

  “It’s a long story, but basically we had a falling out and I decided it was time to live my own life,” he said, looking embarrassed.

  But Scarlet knew exactly what he was talking about. She’d lived her life for someone else for a long time as well. “I think I understand, living your life for someone else leaves you empty and confused,” she said, taking his hand and trying to ignore the thrill that passed through her.

  Marc looked at their joined hands. “You sound like you know what I’m talking about,” he said, feeling comfort as well as electricity in her touch.

  “I do. I married when I was very young and it didn’t end well, but I made it though and so will you,” she said, looking up again and meeting his eyes, which she discovered were more green than blue.

  “I’m just frustrated that I can’t seem to find a job. I didn’t think it would be that hard. I have construction experience, but no one seems to take me seriously,” he said, standing up to pace, embarrassed.

  Scarlet looked at him for a second before saying, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but they probably took one look at you and decided that you haven’t done a hard day’s work in a while.” She waited for him to get angry at her for criticizing him, which her ex-husband would have done.

  Instead of getting angry, he seemed confused. “What do you mean?” he finally asked.

  “Look at your hands, there’re certainly not the hands of a man who works with them for a living, and you’re clothes are new, not to mention the car you drive. Contractors look at you and see a man who appears to be doing well. They’d rather give the work to a man who looks like he needs it,” she said, putting her feet up and leaning against the wall.

  Marc looked at his hands and thought about what a total reversal that was to what he’d been used to. In his old world, a man should have clean hands, nice clothes, and of course a nice car. Here it appeared that those things were going to work against him. “Well, I’m not sure how to fix that without getting a chance to work,” he said, crossing back and leaning against the wall next to her.

  “You could take some small jobs, you know like a handyman. That would give you a chance to make some money and to establish yourself in the community because that’s also part of your problem,” she said, looking up at him, wanting to reach out and touch him.

  “I’m not used to being a stranger and having to prove myself. I didn’t think of all that, but I think you’ve got a great solution. Thank you, Scarlet, you’ve been a good friend,” he said, pulling her to her feet and wrapping her up in a big hug.

  Scarlet’s heart was hammering away in her chest when he pulled her to him; she fit perfectly in his arms, and it felt so nice to be held. But the hug was over all too soon, and when she stepped back, it was like stepping into the shadows when you’d been standing in the sun. Their eyes met, and Scarlet could swear that he was as attracted to her as she was to him. It was a thrilling but scary to see desire in his eyes.

  Taking a risk since she hadn’t flirted for a long time, she said, “Your welcome. It’s always nice to get a compliment from a handsome man.”

  “Well, in that case,” he said, pulling her back into his arms. “Let me tell you that you are a very beautiful woman.”

  Scarlet was suddenly having a hard time breathing. She’d been told many times that she was beautiful, but when Marc said it, she believed him. When he leaned his head down to kiss her, she let it happen, her heart beating faster. The kiss was gentle, his lips firm, but she felt it all the way to her core.

  She relaxed into his embrace, sliding her arms around his neck, feeling reckless for the first time in a long time. Marc, surprised by her response, deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his tongue as he explored her mouth. Scarlet was lost in a storm of sensation; it had been a long time since she’d been kissed, but she didn’t remember it ever feeling this good.

  They might have gone on kissing for much longer, but they heard footsteps on the stairs and quickly broke apart. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other, a little shocked by the force of the kiss they’d just shared. Kevin started talking loudly before he’d even made it halfway up the stairs.

  “I closed the register and gave the money to Deputy Macon. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to go now. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow,” Kevin said.

  “Sure, Kevin, I’m sorry I got distracted,” she said, shooting Marc a look.

  “That’s okay, I don’t mind. You deserve a little down time, you work hard.”

  “Well, you do too. I’ll see you in the morning. Have a great night,” S
carlet said, gathering up their dirty plates and empty bottles. “I probably should be getting home. Kevin’s right, we have a long day tomorrow.”

  “Am I missing something?” Marc asked, taking the dirty plates from her hands as they climbed down the stairs after Kevin.

  “Tomorrow is the Founders Day Picnic. We have one every year before the summer season starts. It’s a chance for all the business owners to catch up and the town shows up to have some fun before we’re swamped with tourists. We don’t advertise it because we want it to be just us. I know it sounds terrible, but it is the one day of the summer we can all get together without a lot of tourists around,” Scarlet said, throwing away the beer bottles and turning off the lights.

  “You have no idea what you’re in for if you stay all summer, this quiet little town becomes a crazy place, especially when the loggers show up,” Kevin added. “I’ve been here three years, and every year gets crazier.”

  “Why don’t you come over to the park tomorrow? It would be a good chance to meet some of the town’s people, maybe make some connections,” Scarlet said. “Kevin and I have to make cinnamon rolls, but then I’ll head over, probably about ten.”

  Marc looked skeptical; the idea of being the center of attention didn’t really appeal to him, but Scarlet had a good point, he needed to get to know some people and there was no better way than a town picnic. “Do I need to bring anything?” he asked, resigning himself to the day.

  “Don’t look so excited about it, it’s actually a lot of fun and we get to try all kinds of stuff. Anyone within a three country area who makes any kind of product will be there, plus the kids from the high school bring out the concession stands and carnival games, and there’ll be entertainment,” Scarlet said, leading them to the front door.