Kiss My Heart Goodbye (Heart's Intent, #4)

by Brower, Dawn

  Lana liked that a little too much. Her skin heated, and she feared if she glanced in a mirror she would find a flushed face. There was no time to cool off before she answered the door. She sighed and headed to see who was there to disturb her. Would it be too much to ask that it be a pizza delivery guy? She could use something to eat.

  She pulled the door open wide and her mouth fell open in shock. What fresh new hell was this? A demon must have been inside her head and listening to all her wanton desires. That had to be the explanation for who and what she found waiting on her doorstep. There, dressed immaculately in a well-tailored dark suit and a dark blue tie, stood Sullivan Brady. To top off that deliciousness, he held a pizza box in his hand. Lana closed her eyes and counted to ten. Surely, when she opened them, he wouldn’t be standing there ready to deliver her every desire. She blinked and attempted to wipe him from her vision, but no luck. He still stood there with his cocksure smile, waiting for her to address him.

  “What, no trench coat, Clarence?” She lifted a brow.

  “What?” Sullivan asked, confusion echoing in his voice.

  “You have the suit and the pizza. Have you watched any movies involving a pizza man that gave you ideas lately?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Though I doubt you’d need pointers from a pizza man.”

  “I want to say I’m following you,” he said. “But you might as well be talking gibberish.”

  Of course he wouldn’t be a fan of one of her favorite television shows. Two hunky brothers fighting the supernatural beings of the world was enough to keep her riveted—apparently it wasn’t Sully’s thing. She wasn’t about to explain to him how an angel and a demon discovered something in each other they didn’t expect to. Sometimes a person found love in the last place they thought to look. Sullivan wasn’t her Clarence any more than she was his Meg. Though she would take his pizza and shove him out the door if he let her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in?” he asked.

  She sighed. If she allowed him inside, he might take forever to leave. But he had pizza and she was starving. As if on cue, her stomach gurgled. The smell of that pie was enticing, and she wanted to get her hands on it. Who was she kidding? She wanted it in her belly and fast.

  “Depends,” she said. “What’s in it for me?”

  His lips twitched upward. “Why don’t you let me in and find out.”

  Sneaky. He didn’t want to disclose his motives and possibly make her slam the door in his face. She shouldn’t trust him. The tricky bastard knew a workaround of her suspicious nature though. That pizza would be his ticket inside her house, and the rat bastard knew it. She nodded toward the box in his hand and said. “What’s on it?” If it had any gross toppings, she’d boot him clear to the curb.

  “Ham and pepperoni,” he replied. “You don’t think I’d allow something you don’t like on your precious pie, do you?”

  He remembered her preference. She wasn’t sure how to take that. He’d been acting so strange lately. Maybe this was her chance to peel back a few layers and figure him out. She knew him, perhaps better than even his best friend, but she didn’t know what made him push her away and pull her close at the same time. Since she returned to Envill after she finished graduate school and became a specialized registered nurse, he’d been distant as hell. When they were younger, he’d been much nicer. A switch had flipped between them. For her, it had been that fateful day at the pool. She couldn’t say when it happened for him.

  “I’m not sure about anything with you,” she said honestly. “I suppose you want to stay and eat that with me.”

  “You’d suppose right,” he agreed.

  “Then come inside.” She held the door open for him to move past her and then shut it behind him. Sullivan had never been in her house before. She didn’t have a clue how to react to that. Lana gestured toward the room she’d been veging on the couch in. “Take it into the front room, and I’ll grab a couple plates from the kitchen.”

  He nodded and headed toward the couch, then set the pizza on her coffee table. Lana stared at him, still baffled he was in there. Then shook it away to go into her kitchen to gather a little breathing room and regain her composure. Sullivan didn’t do anything without a reason. Him being at her house could be anything, but she shouldn’t read too much into it. So what if he kissed her a few times. It had been borderline brotherly when he’d done it. She probably had felt more than he had.

  Once inside her kitchen she pulled a couple small plates out of her cabinet and then some wine glasses. She would need some alcohol if she was dealing with Sullivan. She’d have to limit herself to one glass tonight though. With her meds, she shouldn’t even have that much. At least she hadn’t taken the strong one yet and could indulge. All she’d had was a good ole ibuprofen, saving the big dose for bedtime.

  Luckily, she had a bottle of wine she’d never opened before her accident. A nice, cheap moscato she sucked down like juice whenever she poured herself a glass. Sullivan probably had richer tastes when it came to wine, but Lana preferred the cheap stuff. All right, maybe that was because she’d never had the pricey bottles. She couldn’t afford it, and she did like this particular brand. To her, it didn’t matter if the cap unscrewed or she had to dig out a corkscrew. As long as it was tasty, it would do.

  She grabbed the wine, glasses, and plates and headed back to the front room. Sullivan had turned the television off and brought the lights to a low, romantic ambient glow. Shit. Where had that come from? There was nothing remotely romantic about this. Was there? Of course not—she was being silly. They needed some light to eat by, and she had been watching her show in the dark. She had to stop thinking crazy thoughts where Sullivan was concerned. If she kept it up, she’d end up with a broken heart.

  “I have wine,” she said stupidly. Almost as stupid as the line from Dirty Dancing where she said she carried the watermelons. “Want to pour it?”

  He grinned and grabbed the bottle from her. She set the glasses on the table as he unscrewed the cap. This bottle wasn’t even a fancy cheap bottle. He poured the wine and handed her a glass. “Should we do a toast?” Sullivan asked.

  “To what?” she inquired. Her insane attraction to him?

  “How about your health and our relationship?”

  She wrinkled her nose up and frowned. Had something happened while she was asleep in the hospital? Perhaps she was still asleep and dreaming some of her deepest, darkest desires. Surely he hadn’t said our relationship. “Sully, I feel like I’m in a movie that someone forgot to give me the script to. We don’t have a relationship.”

  “We’ve always had one, Lisanna,” he replied. “One we’ve danced around and did our very best to pretend wasn’t there. I think it’s time we stopped and figured out what this is.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said vehemently. It was much easier to berate him for using her full name than address the whopper in the room. He didn’t suggest they be—she wasn’t sure what he wanted. There was no word that fit the definition the way she saw it. “Did you hit your head? Are you feeling all right?”

  Sullivan sighed and set his wine glass on the table. He walked over to her side and took hers to set down too, then pulled her into his arms. She started to back away but then gave in when her whole body became attuned to his. Something about him had always felt incredibly right. She held her breath and waited to see what he’d do. If he gave her another one of those brotherly chaste kisses she’d punch him.

  “I’ve been afraid to completely give myself in any emotional way to someone,” he said. “A part of me nearly died when I saw you in the hospital bed. It was the swift kick I needed to realize what I feared already had happened. I kissed my heart goodbye years ago and gave it to you without ever realizing it.”

  He didn’t say he loved her, but that little declaration was as good as saying so. Surely, she’d misunderstood. She should ask questions. There were a lot of them rolling through her mind, but she c
ouldn’t find words. What the hell were words anyway? They could be misconstrued and twisted into something that barely resembled what he meant.

  “You should...”

  “Don’t,” he interrupted. “Please, don’t” He leaned down and kissed her. Not one of the sweet kisses he’d bestowed on her before, but the kind she’d always dreamed of and yet never dared to ask for. He sucked on her lips and savored them. When she sighed, he swept his tongue into her mouth and made love to her with tongue, lips and teeth. She was good and truly plundered by the time he was finished.

  She shook with need and wanted to beg him to kiss her forever just like that. Every woman should know what it is like to be kissed by someone with Sullivan Brady’s skill, talent, and devotion combined. He lifted his head and stared into her eyes, then brought up his hand to caress her hair. “We have time to figure this out. All I’m asking for is a chance. Can you give me that?”

  Lana nodded stupidly. She was drunk on his kisses, and it was a heady experience. She’d probably agree to anything in the state she was in. “Starting tonight?”

  “We started weeks ago,” he said and then smiled smugly. “You just didn’t realize it.”

  If she didn’t feel so good she’d smack that smile off his face. Right then though she rather liked it. Probably because he was focusing all his attention on her, and standing in the light always made things seem more pleasant. “I’m agreeing that tonight changes things. It might have happened to you sooner, but for me this is all too new. Why don’t we eat that pizza you brought and see how things go?”

  “I’d like that,” he said and led her to the couch.

  They ate the pizza, drank wine, and talked. He didn’t kiss her passionately again, but he touched her often, as if he was helping her become accustomed to it. She had to admit it was super effective. By the time she showed him out, she was deeply sensitized and on the brink of inviting him to her bed. Luckily, he didn’t push, and she was able to remain strong enough not to voice her desire. One day though, she might be desperate enough to beg him to make love to her. God help her when that day came. She probably wouldn’t survive it...

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sunlight streamed through the window and landed right on Lana’s face. She had forgotten to close the blinds when she crawled into bed the night before. She could be excused for her mindlessness though. Sullivan had kissed her—really kissed her. He even wanted to spend time with her and, like, date.

  She wanted to believe in happy endings, pots of gold at the end of rainbows, and even unicorns. But in the harsh light of day, she questioned everything, and why wouldn’t she? This was Sullivan “Can’t-Be-Monogamous” Brady. Should she really risk her heart because he said some pretty words and made her feel giddy? What really had changed? He claimed seeing her in the hospital bed had opened his eyes, but what if he woke up one day and realized he’d made a mistake, and he didn’t really have those kind of feelings for her?

  God, she was a freaking mess.

  She had to get out of the house and do something. Anything. As long as it took her mind off of Sullivan and how wonderfully sweet he’d been the night before. He’d even kissed her before he left for the night. Never once doing more than cuddle with her and a few sweet kisses...

  Maybe that was her problem entirely. He hadn’t tried to get into her pants. Was there something wrong with her that he didn’t want to have sex? Was this an elaborate ruse to make her feel comfortable around him for some reason? As far as she was aware, he’d thought of her as a sister. Why should she believe he saw her differently now? Shit. She had to get out of her own head.

  Lana rolled out of bed and walked to her bathroom. A hot shower and a change of clothes would help. Then she would call Jessica and demand she pick her up. They could do lunch or shop—maybe go see a movie. She’d let Jessica decide because she didn’t care as long as it diverted her attention.

  After her shower she went to call Jessica and realized she still didn’t have a damn phone. What the hell was wrong with her? Why did she keep forgetting that small detail? That should be a top priority on her list today. Go to the cell phone store and buy a new one. Then they could do whatever Jessica wanted. That was if she could find a way to get a hold of her...

  Her door bell chimed. Thankfully, she was already dressed, so she didn’t have to worry about answering it in a towel. She headed toward the door and opened it. Sullivan was waiting outside. He couldn’t have waited thirty minutes? She hadn’t even had time to blow dry her hair. It was a sopping wet mess.

  “Did you forget something last night?” she asked. Like maybe taking me to bed and making me scream with pleasure? She wanted to say that aloud, but held it back.

  “I came to see how you were doing today. I missed you after I left.”

  Damn him. Why did he have to say the sweetest things? A girl could get used to that kind of treatment. “You keep dropping by unannounced; I might not let you in again.”

  He held his hand over his heart. “You wound me, Lisanna. I thought we made progress last night.”

  “You caught me at a weak moment,” she retorted. “I’m back to myself today. What do you want, Sully?” How many times did she have to tell him to quit calling her that before he obliged? At this point, she wasn’t sure why she bothered. Sullivan did what he wanted no matter what she said.

  “I thought I made that clear last night,” he said. He almost looked—upset. Had she actually hurt his feelings? “Why must you make me start over every time I see you? What is it going to take for you to accept I want to be with you?”

  A miracle? Peace on Earth? A brain tumor? She didn’t say any of those things to him though. He seemed to genuinely want to spend time with her, and not as friends or anything platonic. Lana couldn’t answer his question because she had no idea how to. “This is a little hard for me to grasp. Last night seemed rather surreal.”

  Sullivan stepped forward. “Why don’t you start by letting me inside?”

  She shook her head. “That’s where I went wrong last night. When you’re near me and touching me, I forget my own name.”

  His lips tilted upward. “I can remind you anytime you want. Lisanna Kelly—the woman I can’t live without.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them she said, “I need you to slow down. A lot. I’m not where you apparently are yet.”

  He nodded. “I can be patient a little longer. You are not saying no, and that’s something I can work with.”

  “Good,” she said.

  “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” he asked.

  Did everyone forget her phone was damaged in the accident? “Can’t answer what I don’t have.” It was time for Sullivan to go. She had to finish blow drying her hair and figure out how to get a hold of Jessica. “Can I use yours a minute?”

  He crinkled his brow. “You really don’t have a phone? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He pulled his out of his pocket. “You were still pretty weak after you were released. I would have made sure one was brought to you.”

  Lana rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I’ll get a new phone when I’m ready.” She snatched his phone from his hand and punched in Jessica’s number—thankful for her eclectic memory. Of course it went to voicemail. Jessica probably saw it was Sullivan and avoided the call on purpose. She couldn’t blame her, especially after Sullivan bullied her about Imogen. Provided she had his number—hard to say. For all Lana knew he’d slipped it to Jessica after her divorce to Ren was final. She hoped not because it would bother her a lot if they’d done anything together. “Hey, twat,” Lana spoke into the phone. “Come pick me up. I need to get a few things.” Then she hung up the phone and handed it back to Sullivan.

  “Do I want to know?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “It’s best you don’t.” Some things were meant for girlfriends. Jessica may have been a thorn in Lana’s side once, but she rather liked hanging with her now. If Sul
livan wanted to be a part of her life, he’d understand that. “Now, shoo.” Lana gestured for him to leave. “I have to finish making myself pretty.”

  Instead of backing away, Sullivan stepped closer, pulling Lana into his arms. “You’re always beautiful to me.” Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The magic was instantaneous. Something about him always punched through her blood and made it sing whenever he was near. When he touched her, it grew a thousand fold. A kiss—complete chaos ensued.

  He stepped back. Lana stood there like a blinking moron. He grinned and then said, “Think of me.” Lana blinked several more times and realized at some point Sullivan was gone and she was still standing on her porch. One day she would become accustomed to those kisses enough to function like a normal person...

  SULLIVAN WAS RATHER pleased with his tête-à-tête with Lana. She’d been a little too docile the night before. He had to go see her to make sure she wasn’t finding reasons to end things between them before it had a chance to begin. He was in this for the long haul. Whatever was needed he’d do it. They belonged together. He’d never been so sure of anything in his life. Lana was his heart, and without her life would never be the same again.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and a familiar number blinked across the screen. He clicked the answer button and lifted it to his ear. “Carter,” he said. “Please tell me you have good news.”

  “Depends on your definition of good news,” Carter said. “We still do not have any leads on Wilson’s murder. We were hoping you found those missing files.”

  Sullivan swore under his breath. He realized it had only been a week, but damn it, he wanted to see someone pay for killing the accountant. Part of that was his guilt for not making the meeting. Most of it was the audacity of someone to not only steal from him, but also to have the nerve to commit murder. He wanted them punished and rotting in a prison cell for the rest of their natural life. The death penalty was too good for them.