“I guess we will,” she said, stopping in front of the building he knew was hers. “Thanks for walking me home.”
He looked up at the windows, then back down the street before taking a single step closer, breaching her space by the smallest degree. Enough so she noticed that even with the way he’d been manhandling her down the block, this was different.
“This is where I stand just a little too close and tell you how much I liked walking you home, how much I always like talking with you.”
Her head tipped back so she could look up at him, and damn if he didn’t like it, even if he knew it was just for show.
“It is?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah. And then because I’m not ready to say goodbye,” he said, tucking a few flyaway strands of hair behind her ear, “I’ll ask you about your plans for the holiday this week. Find out if maybe I’ll get to see you again. Because I want to see you again.”
She licked her lips and gave him another smile, this one almost shy and maybe the most potent of all of them. “I’m going home. Ted’s giving me a ride Thursday morning. But Wednesday night we’ll be at Belfast. How about you? Big family plans with the Ps?”
“There’s just my mom, but no,” he answered, looking down her street to where a couple of kids were playing on the sidewalk. “We aren’t big on holidays together.”
Her lips formed a small O, and he could see that she wanted to ask more. Maybe another time he’d let her. For right then, he gave her a wink, promising, “See you Wednesday, gorgeous.”
Chapter 3
Brody sent the dart sailing through the air and watched with satisfaction as it landed dead center in the board. “Bull’s-eye. And I believe that’s the game, ladies.” Cracking his knuckles, he turned, giving a gloating smile to Jase Foster, Max Brandt, and Sean Wyse, then laughing at the round of middle fingers, deep scowls, and air jacks that met him in return.
He was a lucky guy with a lot of friends, but these were the ones he went back the furthest with, all the way to freshman year of college when they’d shared a quad together. They’d all come from different backgrounds, had different histories, but for whatever reason, they’d become the first real family he’d ever been able to keep.
He loved these guys.
“Who’s up for another game?” he asked.
Max shook his head. “Don’t even bother, man. Wyse here can’t keep his eyes off his wife long enough to aim for the board.”
“She’s your sister, man. And she’s five months pregnant. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on darts when she won’t get out from behind the bar, even though I’m pretty sure her last day at Belfast was two months ago.”
All eyes at the table turned toward the bar, where Molly Wyse was pouring a draft, a wide grin on her face as she chatted with one of the customers.
Yeah, it had been months since she’d worked for him, but Brody had never had much success in telling Molly what to do. And for whatever reason, this evening, she felt like pretending she still worked at the bar. Sean was just lucky she hadn’t gotten it in her head to work the tables.
“Don’t look at me,” Max said, shaking his head. “If Molly had ever listened to a damn thing I said, she would’ve left your ass alone, Wyse.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sean straightened his tie, a sure sign of how out of control he felt. Then throwing a look at Jase, he said, “Dude, you’re the only one who hasn’t talked to her yet. Why don’t you get her to come sit down? Or better yet, call Emily and have her do it.”
Jase just shook his head, a sappy smile on his face. “No way. Em and Sarah went shopping at the outlets. I’m under strict instructions not to call unless there’s an emergency.” He shrugged. “This doesn’t constitute.”
Which left the three of them staring at the mama-to-be tending bar, with no idea how to get her to stop. Brody didn’t want to be the one to have to say it, but he was pretty sure Molly was fine. She was pregnant, not made of glass.
But Sean had become the worrying type.
“I keep telling her she needs to rest, put her feet up,” Sean said helplessly. “But it’s like every time I mention it, she gets more indignant.”
Brody wrapped his hand around his buddy’s shoulder. “She’s probably going a little stir-crazy with how protective you’ve been. I mean, she’s not really that far along, and she’s healthy and…”
The look Sean was giving him said he was wasting his breath. But Max wasn’t ready to give up yet.
“Yeah, besides, you know she always liked to stay out late. That’s why she had this job in the first place. She’s a night owl.”
“How about we grab another round of beers,” Brody offered, putting his hands up before Sean could comment. “And I’ll pour them, promise.”
When he got to the bar, Molly was loading a tray of longnecks.
“Any chance you’ll take a break, Moll?” he asked, nodding toward the table where the guys still sat. “Just so your husband can stop hyperventilating.”
Molly shook her head, setting the next bottle down harder than she should. Her breath came out in a series of low curses as her hands fisted on her hips. “He’s driving me insane.”
Brody laughed, covering his mouth with his hand while Molly glared at him.
“Yeah, I know, he’s the one I wanted forever. The love of my life. My walking, talking, ray of sunshine, freaking happily ever after. But he’s also got me ready to lose my mind. You know he’s working half days, right? Sean…is working…half days…when I still have four months to go.” Blowing out a slow breath, she glared across the bar at her husband, who sank back into the seat he’d only the second before stood up from. He’d probably wanted to check on her, poor sap. “Seriously, what’s he going to do for four months? Help me pull a Kleenex from the box in case I need to sneeze?” she grumbled, closing her eyes.
Brody pulled her in to his side, rubbing a hand over the shoulders where she liked to carry everything. “He loves you. Granted, it’s to the point of insanity, but that still counts for something.”
She nodded. “I love him too. So much. But suddenly, he’s everywhere. All the time. And I—”
“You need a break from being treated as though you need a break every five minutes.”
She blinked a few times and then turned her face into his shirt. He was pretty sure she was wiping her eyes and nose on his sleeve.
“Sorry.”
He let out a gruff laugh. “That’s what friends are for.”
At that, she stepped back and gave him a shrewd look. “Hey, what’s this Janet tells me about you getting all moony over some girl from the bar?”
Brody grinned and rubbed his hand over his chest. The rumors were starting already. And Molly wanted the dish. Thing was, Molly was as much family as her husband and the guys, and there was no way he couldn’t be straight with her about what was going on.
“Come on back to my office, and we’ll talk.”
Her eyes narrowed, her mouth setting into a scary frown. “If this is some play to get me to take a break, so help me—”
His hands came up between them as he started backing away. “It’s not, I swear. I’ll even let you clean out my file cabinet, if you want. This thing”—he leaned closer, keeping his voice low—“it’s private.”
Now he had her attention.
Thirty seconds later, he was closing his office door behind him as Molly lowered herself to sit on the couch. “Private, like you ran off and eloped? Is she pregnant too? Brody, our kids can totally get married!”
“It’s Gwen Danes. Bridesmaid in Bret and Claudia’s wedding next month. Definitely not pregnant. And I’m not sure how I feel about committing to the first arranged marriage on offer. I’d like to keep my options open for a few more years, you know.”
Molly rolled her eyes, but then she was back on task. “Gwen… Blond wit
h the va-va-voom?” she asked, making an hourglass figure in the air with her hands.
Crossing his arms, he gave her a hard look. “Kindergarten teacher,” he clarified, because while Molly was more than right—Gwen was built like a fifties pinup model—no way was he encouraging that identifier.
“Right, right. I’ve met her a few times. Sweet girl. And isn’t she the one from—”
He cut her off. “That’s not how it is with us.”
The laughter said it all. “Umm, you sure? From what I hear, you went all burly caveman on her, carrying her down the street. If that’s not how it is, you need to knock that business off, and pronto. Girls get a little loopy when you toss them around as if they don’t weigh a thing. It’s all the muscles on top of muscles.” She waved her hand at him. “And the hair. The ladies love the hair. Brody, we’ve had this talk before. You really have to be more careful about what signals you’re sending. Girls have feelings.”
She was too much.
“Trust me, Gwen knows the score. But I’m helping her out with something, which involves acting like we’re together. Like there’s something serious going on between us.”
“But there isn’t?” She blew a short breath out of her nose. “So much for our babies getting married.”
“Sorry, Moll. So you know what’s going on, we’re just friends. But if you hear anything about us being more than that, do me a favor and go with it.”
The office door cracked open, and Sean peeked in. “Everything okay in here?”
Molly might be frustrated at how overprotective the guy had gotten, but there was no mistaking the love in her eyes when she looked at her husband.
It was hard to believe how effectively she’d hidden her feelings for so many years. And how hard Sean had worked not to see them.
If that’s how things were between Gwen and Ted, Brody wouldn’t be working so hard to convince her to let him go. But it wasn’t. Ted knew Gwen had feelings for him. He had to. But still, the guy didn’t have enough respect for his friend to keep his hands off her when he had no interest in anything more than a hookup here or there.
Molly tried to push herself up from the sofa, and Sean was by her side in a flash. But instead of letting him pull her up, she caught hold of his tie and tugged him down to her. Sean made one of those happy-guy low-throat noises, and yeah, that was Brody’s cue to leave.
“You guys hang back here as long as you like. I’m going up front.”
“Thanks, man,” Sean answered, a look on his face that warned it might be a while.
Twenty minutes later, Brody was standing at the bar when Gwen stepped up beside him, giving him a bump with her shoulder. She was wearing a dark-chocolate fitted sweater with a scooped turtleneck, and her hair was woven into a loose braid that wound down over one shoulder and left a few golden tendrils of hair free around her face. Damn.
“Was wondering if I’d see you.”
She nodded behind her to where everyone was gathered around one of the pool tables. “Stayed late at school, switching the classroom decor from Thanksgiving to the winter holidays for when we get back on Monday. Putting a few lesson plans together. You know.”
He grinned. “A kindergarten teacher’s work is never done.”
“Not if she wants to give her district a good reason to offer her a full-time position in the fall,” she acknowledged with a laugh. “But now I’m all set for next week, and tomorrow I can just enjoy being home. It’s been too long since I was back, and I miss my mom and dad.”
“You a daddy’s girl?” He’d bet she was.
She laughed, giving him a shrug. “Maybe a little. We’re pretty close, but probably more of a mama’s girl at heart. We’re a lot alike, and… I don’t know, she gets me.”
“That’s great.” He loved that she felt that way. Couldn’t exactly wrap his head around it, considering the rare instances he actually saw his mother face-to face, he inevitably wished he’d waited longer. And if there was one thing he could wish for, it was that they’d be nothing alike. But for Gwen, being a mama’s girl fit with that big heart of hers.
“It is, and want to know what’s also great?” She scanned the space around them, signaling that he should move closer. “I can’t believe it, but you were totally right.”
“Of course I was,” he teased before asking, “About what?”
Rolling her eyes, she let out one of those gusty breaths that always got a smile out of him.
“People talking. Six different people have asked me about you since Sunday. And even when they aren’t, all it takes is your name coming up, and suddenly everyone’s singing your praises.” She leaned closer, her whisper becoming more conspiratorial. “Did you pay someone?”
Brody coughed, stepping back to meet her eyes. She looked almost serious. “What?”
“Okay, for real, I’ve never had anyone bring you up to me before, and now it’s like all your superfans are crawling out of the woodwork, clamoring to sing your praises.”
“Gwen,” he started, making sure he had her full attention. Something he was enjoying immensely. “I’m a good guy. People like me.”
She waved a hand between them, pulling that face that indicated all kinds of backpedaling. “Of course, I know. I know.”
Right. “I’m not so sure you do. Which isn’t much of a surprise, considering the way your attention’s been monopolized by Ted…and before you try to deny it, don’t. But here’s the thing. If you want anyone to believe you’re considering Team Brody, you can’t look too surprised when you hear people say good things about me.”
“I didn’t. I swear.” Blowing a strand of hair from her eyes, she glanced around. “We’ve been friends for months. I know you’re a good guy.”
He cocked his head and crossed his arms as he gave her his best grin. “Prove it.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, looking adorably taken aback.
“You heard me. Tell me about my finer qualities. And keeping in mind the holiday weekend and your preexisting plans tomorrow, let’s limit the list to five. Pretend a friend wants to know what you like about me. What are you going to tell them—so they believe you’re interested?”
Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, her eyes shifting from side to side. Jesus. If he asked her about Ted, she’d probably talk for two days straight before taking a breath. This was going to take some work.
Catching her chin in the crook of his finger, he suggested, “How about this? Think on it a few. You can tell me what you came up with after I check in with the kitchen.”
* * *
Gwen sat at the table with her friends, half laughing at Nat’s story about the Cheerios stuffed up one of her patient’s noses. But the other half of her attention was fixed on Brody.
Five things.
It wasn’t a lot to ask, and she certainly wouldn’t have any difficulty coming up with them. But truth be told, he was right. She really hadn’t thought much about him. At least not in terms of cataloging his finer attributes.
But as she watched him now, the most obvious things came to mind. He was handsome. Really beyond handsome, now that she thought about it. The man was built like a powerhouse. At least six feet, he was tall and broad and packed with the kind of muscles that made him look as though you could find him throwing a log over his shoulder as easily as a woman.
God, she still couldn’t believe he’d done that. Couldn’t stop laughing that he had.
He was solid and strong. And as far as the story that poor, straining white Henley was telling, without an ounce of fat on him.
Yeah, he was impressive.
And now he was headed back her way, a pint of Guinness in hand.
His eyes locked with hers, holding as he closed in on the table. And then at the last minute, the eye contact broke, and he greeted each of the girls in turn. He complimented Gail on her hair and aske
d Sadie about her sister who’d recently had a baby. He wagged a finger at Nat as if she was trouble. And all of them were eating it up.
How had she never noticed before? Her friends seemed to be smiling at cheek-cramping proportions as they answered him and asked questions of their own, trying to draw him into the conversation. These girls loved him.
And not only that, they couldn’t seem to stop touching him either. Gwen tried not to laugh as she watched Nat admire the thick leather band his oversize watch was mounted to before moving on to the few other leather ties and bands on his wrist. And now that she was looking, Gwen wanted to run her fingers over that assortment too. Not all guys could pull off that look, but on Brody, it was undeniably hot. Masculine to the extreme.
“You got a minute, Gwen?” he asked, his smile warm and inviting, confident and contagious. His focus intense and…appealing.
The chatter around them stopped, and Gwen felt the rush of heat to her cheeks as all eyes landed on her. She smiled in return and nodded, hopping off her chair. “Sure, you bet.”
Brody’s smile went wide, like she’d just told him he won the Lotto.
Man, the guy was good.
As they turned away from the table, his hand settled at the small of her back to guide her through the bar.
“Where we going?” she asked.
“Not back to my office, that’s for sure.” At her raised brow, he added, “Couple of my friends went back for some privacy to talk, and now the door’s locked. Kind of afraid of what I’m going to find when I get in there. How about the Back Room?”
She nodded, following him through the open doorway with the neon script above.
Belfast’s Back Room was an open space where people could dance when the bar had live bands on the weekend. A few small tables were set up around the periphery, but there wasn’t any bar service, so it remained relatively quiet on weeknights. Brody led her to a table by the stage, holding her chair before taking his own.
“Let’s have it. What have you got for me?” he asked, resting his forearms on the small circular table and taking up most of it in the process. The posture was casual but emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and arms in a way that was a little overwhelming. Had she really missed how impressively Brody was built?
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