Stranded (Broken Man Book 2)

by Lila Kane

  I downed the rest of my wine, spun in the other direction, and froze.

  I choked on the lyrics of the song when I saw Brett standing at the edge of the kitchen.

  To my dismay, he started clapping.

  “Oh, God…I didn’t know you were here.”

  He pulled off his cap, ruffling his hair, and dusted the floor with snow. My throat dried. Damn, he looked good. He always looked good. I squeezed my thighs together at the ache that bloomed. “I’m here.”

  I swallowed and set my glass aside, suddenly nervous. “I’m the only one here.”

  “Jeff called. I’m sure they’ll make it up tomorrow.” His gaze dropped to my slippers, and I swear the corner of his mouth quirked. Then he turned abruptly. “I have more stuff in the car.”

  Before I could say anything, he vanished.

  Damn it. What was his problem?

  I walked to the window and watched him making his way to his car. I could barely see him by the time he reached it. Shit. It was only getting worse. Which meant I should probably get the box I brought as well—just in case I needed M&M’s in the middle of the night.

  Tugging on my cap, jacket, and boots, I huffed out my irritation. Brett was just going to have to deal with me because it wasn’t like I was going anywhere. I yanked open the front door and trudged down the steps as he was coming up.

  “Wait—Evie.” He held a box in his arms but turned back. “Where are you going?”

  “I have stuff.”

  I didn’t stop, just hiked through a couple of feet of snow to reach my car. There was so much snow on it, the trunk wouldn’t open. Then I realized I hadn’t brought my gloves.

  “Shit.”

  I watched Brett vanish inside the house, then reappear. Instead of going for his truck, he headed in my direction.

  Ignoring him, I swiped at the snow, trying to knock as much off as I could to open the trunk.

  “You’re not wearing gloves,” he said.

  “Thanks for pointing that out.”

  I hated the snark in my voice, but I was tired of his attitude. There was a time I would have died and gone to heaven knowing I would have been alone with him for a whole day. And night. Maybe longer. But now…

  Brett jerked the trunk open and I reached for the box at the same time he did.

  “I’ve got it,” I said.

  “Get inside. You’re not wearing gloves.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’re not my boss. I—”

  He tugged the box, and I tugged back. His eyes met mine in challenge. But when I tugged again and a whole pile of snow slid from the side of the trunk onto my arms, I gasp and released the box, falling on my ass in a snowbank.

  Brett spun around, abandoning the box. “Evie.”

  “Why did you do that?” I pulled my hands from the snow. They already ached from the cold.

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  And maybe it was because I was a little tipsy. Or a little frustrated. Or just because I wanted to see him in the snow, too. But when he reached down for me, I jerked his hand and made him stumble into the snow as well.

  “Ha!” I rose onto my knees with a triumphant laugh. “Now you know how it feels. You—”

  The snowball got me right in the face. I gasped and then reached for him, knocking him back into the snow. But this time he took me with him. I landed on top of him.

  My breath rushed out and my hands pressed against his chest. My lips were inches from his, and our eyes locked. His fingers found my waist, squeezing through my jacket.

  “Brett,” I murmured.

  All my anger was lost in that moment. For once, he wasn’t turning away, wasn’t glaring at me. He was looking straight into my eyes with something like surprise.

  I opened my mouth to say something else, but he sat up abruptly, nearly knocking me back in the snow. He hauled me to my feet without warning and then grabbed the box from my trunk.

  Before I could say anything, he strode through the snow and to the stairs, looking like it took no effort at all. Stung by his actions, I slammed the trunk shut and hurried after him.

  My hands ached from the cold, but not as bad as my heart.

  <<<>>>

  CHAPTER TWO

  I stomped inside, dropping snow all over the foyer. I dumped my jacket on the floor and yanked off my cap. I had enough sense to straighten my hair before I walked into the kitchen, but right now I almost didn’t care what I looked like.

  “Thanks for getting the box,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  He’d removed his jacket as well and taken off his hat. I could see the outline of his muscles through his Henley, and it stalled my momentum some. He’d set the box on the counter, but he wouldn’t look at me.

  “Sure.”

  My mouth was full of words, but what was I supposed to say? Just come out with it and ask him why the hell he acted like this around me?

  Liquid courage. That’s what I needed. I snatched my wine glass off the counter and went for the wine bottle, which Brett stood directly in front of.

  When he turned around, eyes avoiding mine again, I swallowed hard and said, “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you hate me so much?”

  Brett’s head jerked up. “What?”

  I gritted my teeth to keep my chin from wobbling. “You avoid me all the time, won’t meet my eyes. We used to be friends. And now…Why do you hate me so much?”

  “I don’t…” He cleared his throat, averted his eyes, and then jerked them back to mine. “Evie.”

  Humiliated, I reached around him to grab the wine. “Fine. I can see you’re trying to think of a lie to make me feel better.”

  “No, Evie.” He turned at the same time I did, his hand brushing mine. “Damn it—your hands are freezing.”

  “Like you care.”

  He snatched the glass from me and set it aside, making my mouth drop open in surprise.

  “Brett—”

  His hands closed around mine and the words died in my throat. “I don’t hate you. Why didn’t you wear gloves?”

  “Uh…” How was I supposed to answer that question when his fingers were massaging warmth into mine? When he was standing close enough I could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath? “I forgot.”

  “We’ll start a fire,” he said, releasing me.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he was already walking to the living room. He started stacking logs in the fireplace while I shakily poured myself another glass of wine. A big one. He didn’t hate me? Then what was going on?

  “You want a glass?” I called across the room.

  “A beer will do. Or a shot,” he muttered.

  I chuckled, but grabbed a beer from the refrigerator to start. I opened it, but froze at the edge of the kitchen. Firelight played on Brett’s face, lighting his sharp cheekbones, casting his dark eyes in shadows. His arms were crossed, muscles bulging as he stared at me from across the room.

  “I’m not ignoring you,” he said.

  I ventured closer to hand him the beer. I took a long swallow of my wine before I said, “Okay.”

  “Okay? That’s all. Because you seemed pretty upset about it.”

  “I wasn’t upset.” Yes, I was. “I was…”

  “What?”

  “I was hurt, okay?”

  He cursed. He drank half his beer in one gulp and shook his head. “That’s not what I was trying to do. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying not to hurt you.”

  “Then why were you ignoring me? Why—”

  “Stop.” He rubbed the back of his neck, releasing a long breath. “Please. I already feel bad enough.”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”

  Brett’s eyes locked on mine, making goosebumps race up my arms. “Trust me, I know. That’s the last thing you’d ever do because that’s not the kind of person you are. Which is why it’s so easy for people to take advantage of you.”

  “Take advanta
ge? What?”

  He grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it in front of the fire. “Sit and get warm.”

  I halfway expected him to sit on the couch, just to keep his distance, but instead he joined me on the floor. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and I was feeling a comfortable buzz as my extremities warmed. It got even warmer when Brett sat close enough to reach out and touch. There wasn’t any part of him that didn’t turn me on. His hair, his chiseled features, his muscles, his height.

  I downed the rest of my wine, needing something to do with my mouth. Before I could stand to refill it, Brett snatched it from me and walked to the kitchen.

  My irritation turned to amusement. It was the wine, I was sure, but it was kind of cute that he seemed shy all the sudden. So I leaned back on the blanket, pillowing my head on my arms, and closed my eyes.

  “Maybe you’ll talk to me if I don’t look at you,” I said.

  I heard his footsteps, saw the flicker of light through my eyelids, and smiled. Now, this was a vacation. Warm by the fire, filled with wine, and laying on a blanket next to the sexiest man I’d ever known.

  “You think that’ll help, huh?” Brett asked.

  His voice was fluid and deep, and made a ball of desire form in my stomach. He could probably make me come with his voice alone. And if I could keep him talking, well…maybe tonight would be a little more exciting than I thought.

  He walked back to the blanket, but I continued to recline. “I think it’ll help.”

  I heard him sit and set my glass nearby. I kept my eyes closed. Maybe it was easier for me, too, to talk with him when I didn’t have to meet his gaze.

  “What did you mean?” I asked. “About people taking advantage of me?”

  When he spoke again, I was surprised to hear him right next to me. “Guys will take advantage of you. I’ve seen it before. In high school and from then on. And I…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want it to look like I was one of those guys. Your brothers would kill me if they thought I was fooling around with you.”

  My eyes whipped open. He was staring at the fire. “You didn’t…I mean…you thought about fooling around with me?”

  When he finally looked at me, my whole body went hot. “More than fooling around with you. There are times I want you so bad, I can barely stop myself. It’s better to stay away.”

  My clit throbbed at the heat in his gaze. I took a chance, a risk I wish I would have taken months ago. No years.

  “What if I didn’t want you to stay away?” I whispered.

  Brett’s jaw clenched. His chest moved as he exhaled, like it was taking every ounce of his control not to make a move.

  So I did. I sat up and reached out, my hand touching his cheek.

  He gripped it immediately. I thought for a moment that he’d fling it away, but then he squeezed it. Turned his face to it and breathed in deep. “Evie…”

  “Kiss me.”

  There was only one split second of hesitation, and then his lips were on mine. His hand tangled in my hair, jerked my head back so my mouth lifted to his. He plunged his tongue inside, hungry, full of need.

  “Evie,” he murmured, barely coming up for air.

  I shifted and crawled into his lap. He squeezed my hips, and then lowered his forehead to mine. “I shouldn’t…”

  “Why?” I asked, heart racing. “We’re adults. I want you. Please don’t tell me you don’t want me.”

  “Fuck. Evie. I want you so bad it hurts.”

  His cock twitched beneath me and my throat dried. Oh, God, this was finally happening. I couldn’t let him back out now.

  “Don’t think, just feel.”

  He gave a choked growl. Like he was trying so hard to fight himself, but he just couldn’t stop from wanting me. I’d never been so turned on in my life.

  Brett ravaged my mouth again, and I was so lost in sensation I could barely keep up. His tongue massaged mine, drawing out a long moan. At the same time, his hands skimmed down my arms and back up, his thumbs just brushing the sides of my breasts.

  That short bit of contact already had my brain exploding. My nerve endings tingling. I wanted him on top of me. In me. Every way I could have him.

  Brett. The boy I’d been in love with as a child. The man I still loved, who seemed to care for me, too.

  How long had he felt like this?

  I let my hands wander, tracing his jaw as he continued to kiss me. Then I touched lower, running my fingers over his hard pecks and reaching for the bottom of his T-shirt. I yanked it up, pulling it over his head.

  His eyes glinted in the firelight, boring into mine. Holding me captive.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

  My heart ached with the words. Knowing how he really felt about me. Knowing I could be with him now, after all this time.

  His thumb brushed my lower lip, then slid inside my mouth to touch my tongue.

  “I’ve wanted you for so long. Now I need to take my time.”

  I shivered in response, pressing my body closer to his. The hard peaks of my nipples touched his chest through my shirt. He groaned and whipped my shirt off, eyes dropping to my bra. A simple white lace one that I wouldn’t have chosen if I’d known who’d be seeing me in it. But Brett only exhaled and bent his head to trace his tongue over the swell of my tits.

  Then a phone rang.

  My breath caught, and Brett’s head jerked up.

  “It’s probably just Jeff checking to make sure you made it,” I said. “Ignore it.”

  His jaw shifted, then he gently eased me off his lap and stood. “He’ll worry if he doesn’t hear from us.”

  Damn it. Since when had Brett become so responsible? Looking out for me as a kid? Making sure my brother knew we were safe?

  Why couldn’t he just let that restraint break and take me already?

  Brett’s voice was still deep and husky when he answered the phone. He turned and looked at me from across the room. “Hey, Jeff. Yeah, I made it. Evie’s here.” He gave something like a laugh—one that sounded painful—and lowered his chin. “I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

  Of course. No wonder Brett felt like he couldn’t show me his feelings. He was constantly “taking care of me” for my brothers. Trying to do the right thing.

  And to him, the right thing probably didn’t feel like fucking me in front of the fireplace at my family’s cabin.

  Brett hung up the phone and walked back to the blanket. He plucked his shirt off the floor. I didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to my breasts, but he looked back up immediately. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten carried away like that.”

  “It’s not your fault. And not mine either. We can’t help how we feel.”

  He exhaled and grabbed my shirt off the floor to hand it to me.

  “Unless…” I held my shirt against my chest, hating that I had to say these words. “Unless this doesn’t really mean anything to you.”

  Brett snagged his beer from the coffee table and squeezed it so tight, I thought it might break. “I just want to do the right thing.”

  With that, he walked off.

  <<<>>>

  CHAPTER THREE

  I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself before snagging my wine off the dresser in the bedroom and taking a long swallow.

  This night had turned into an even bigger disaster than I’d expected. I almost wished Brett hadn’t been able to make it. Then at least I’d be alone in my misery instead of two bedrooms away from the person who was at the root of it all.

  My suitcase sat in the middle of my bed, and I unzipped it. As I started sorting through my clothes, trying to find something warm to wear for the evening, the lights went out.

  The room was pitched into darkness, so black I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face.

  “Shit.” I fumbled around to set aside my wine glass, and then tried to remember where a flashlight was. I knew my mom kept a whole basket of candles in the
closet downstairs, but I wasn’t sure how confident I was navigating the stairs full of wine and mostly naked.

  Taking my time, I made it to the door and opened it, surprised when light shined right in my eyes.

  “How did you get a flashlight so fast?” I asked Brett.

  He cleared his throat, but not before his eyes dipped to my towel. “Uh…I had one in my bag.”

  “You always bring a flashlight in your bag?”

  He smirked. “Obviously, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Do you know where there are more? Or candles or something?”

  I nodded. “Give me a minute.”

  At the very least, I had to put on a robe. I walked back inside my room, shutting the door most of the way and yanking my silk robe from my bag. Then I walked into the hallway, keeping close to Brett so he could shine the light for us.

  “Your hair’s wet,” he said quietly from next to me.

  “I took a shower.”

  His voice turned husky. “I can smell your shampoo.”

  I kept my comments to myself. Brett was all over the place tonight, and it wasn’t like him at all. Maybe he was just as fucked up over the situation as I was. But I’d never known Brett to let go of something he wanted, which meant he must not have wanted me that bad.

  “I can get the candles,” I said, gesturing to the closet off the kitchen. “You can finish whatever you were doing.”

  “I’m good.”

  Frowning, I pulled down an entire basket of candles and carried it to the living room, where the fire was still going strong. I lit a few and set them on the end tables, then found my own flashlight.

  When I went for the basket again, to find candles for my room, Brett stepped in front of me. “Evie.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, okay? I…hell, whole thing is awkward.”

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered, not meeting his eyes.

  “I feel really bad. Evie…look at me.”

  Despite my better judgement, I lifted my chin and met his eyes. They were hooded and full of regret. So much so that I immediately felt guilty. “I know you feel bad. I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.”