Brandon

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Brandon Page 5

by Anne, Melody


  So she’d danced with Brandon. For one night she’d allowed herself to pretend she was on a date with a man who couldn’t resist her. She’d pretended she wanted what every woman was told she wanted. She’d pretended it was a fairy tale, and she was the one getting a happy ending.

  Chloe smiled as she shifted in her bed again. She had gotten many happy endings that night. They’d danced and laughed for an hour as she’d sobered up. Brandon had made her laugh more than any other man had ever done before.

  He’d been funny and genuine, and she’d known this would be a one-night stand. It was what she’d convinced herself she wanted. When he’d offered to show her his room, she’d taken his hand and told him to lead the way.

  The shock and satisfaction in his eyes had told her she’d made the right choice. He hadn’t thought she’d be an easy conquest, which had made her feel better about herself. But he had taken her to his room, then sealed the decision in her mind when he’d asked her if she was sure it was what she wanted.

  The first kiss had been pure magic. His lips had caressed hers in the most tempting way, coercing her to open her mouth to him. It hadn’t taken much. Their clothes had melted away, and then he’d lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  He’d stood over her as he’d gazed into her eyes before looking over her shaking body. Then he’d joined her on the bed, his hands and tongue tracing over every inch his eyes had devoured moments before.

  The first orgasm had come with shocking speed, but the next few had built up, slowly and reverently. He’d touched and caressed her all night, letting her take turns doing the same to him.

  They’d fallen asleep as the sun had begun rising. And when she’d woken close to noon, she’d had no regrets. She hadn’t wanted to deal with a morning after, so she’d carefully untangled herself from him and thrown on her clothes from the night before.

  She’d looked over his face one last time before sneaking away. In his sleep Brandon had looked as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. He’d had a slight smile on his full lips, and his chest had gleamed in the slit of sun shining in through the cracked curtain. It hadn’t been easy to leave.

  He’d tried calling her that day and the next and next and next. She’d finally answered, telling him it had been a one-night stand and would never be more. But here they were three months later, and he still wasn’t deterred.

  Chloe gave up on sleep and rose from her bed. It was the middle of the night, and she knew the next day she was going to have to do something about this situation. She didn’t want to be in a relationship, and if she didn’t make that perfectly clear, the man wasn’t going away.

  Cranston was far too small a town to have this tension between the two of them. She was just going to have to be clear and concise and let him know she wasn’t the type of girl to have flings, and she wasn’t in any way interested in a relationship.

  If he couldn’t accept that, then she’d throw her hands up and ignore the man. It could be done. First she had to brave seeing him in person. She wasn’t quite sure she could do it. She’d have to see if the morning light brought any inspiration.

  She eventually went back to bed and finally fell asleep. But when she woke up in the morning, she groaned. Of course, Brandon easily slipped inside her head whenever she let down her guard.

  And in her dreams they were absolutely fantastic together. If she thought magic could happen in the kitchen, it didn’t even compare to the show that was made in the bedroom with Brandon Anderson.

  CHAPTER SIX

  What in the world was she doing? Seriously, she didn’t understand what was going through her brain as she walked the long path from the broken gate to the huge front doors of the Diamond Hill place, which had sat empty for at least fifteen years.

  Tugging on the belt that cinched her coat together like an armor suit, Chloe found her head a bit light—probably from lack of oxygen. She’d decided not to call Brandon—that a sneak attack was the best plan of action. Now that she was walking to the door in her heeled boots, she was thinking it might not have been the best plan after all.

  The sounds of hammers hitting nails and people speaking as they attempted to gain back some control of the weed-infested yard could be heard all around her. But even with people scuttling about, she still felt alone, like her universe was closing in on her.

  Chloe wanted to tuck tail and run. But she’d rather come to Brandon’s place and face him away from her friends and customers than risk him showing up at the restaurant again or do this in front of his entire family. And she had no doubt he’d be around every corner if she wasn’t careful. Brandon didn’t often fall back on something he’d said he was going to do.

  She’d only known the man about three years, and she’d learned that much about him in their limited interactions. When they’d first met, she’d felt sparks, but that hadn’t meant anything. She’d felt sparks before. What shocked her was the fact that those sparks had ignited and had only grown stronger through the years. She couldn’t seem to fight them. And that messed with her entire idea of sparks dimming after the initial getting-to-know-someone phase.

  Of course, she could justify that by acknowledging that they hadn’t been dating. Yes, she’d known him for years, but they had only bumped into each other or shared some family occasions together. They’d slept together only once as well. So of course there were still sparks.

  But what completely refuted her claim of it all seeming perfect because people were on their best behavior was the fact that she’d never been on her best behavior when it came to him. And she knew for a fact he hadn’t been on his.

  He’d seen her with no makeup, seen her with flour all over her clothes and her hair a mess. He’d seen her practically at her worst, and yet he still pursued her. Everything she’d thought she knew about the magic of the beginnings of relationships was crashing around her. This wasn’t good for her mental health.

  That thought sent a pang through her that she was anything but happy about. She wasn’t going to continue to barrage herself with these secret fantasies. She’d slept with the man . . . once. It was done and over with, and the sooner he accepted that, the better off all parties concerned would be.

  Not paying attention to where she was going and staring up at the giant walls of his home that looked as if they could do with a good washing, Chloe’s heel hit a crack in the sidewalk, sending her sprawling forward. She fell ungracefully, managing to take the brunt of the hit with her hands, which immediately began to ache. At least it took her mind off her ridiculous thoughts.

  More embarrassed than in pain, she jumped back to her feet, tucked her shaking hands into her pockets, and looked around. It didn’t appear as if anyone had witnessed her embarrassing fall, so at least she had that to be grateful for.

  But on top of her anxiousness about coming to see Brandon, now her hands hurt, and she was beginning to feel the tinge of a headache coming on. She had about twenty minutes to get some medicine in her system before the ache became an unbearable splitting pain that took her vision away and made her want to throw up.

  Since she’d be in and out of there in less than ten minutes, she could get through this just fine. The eight steps up to the rickety front porch were both treacherous and terrifying. Not because she was worried about falling through, which she was, but because she was that much closer to Brandon.

  Lifting her hand to knock on the intimidating door, she didn’t have the opportunity to touch the wood grain before it was being pulled back. And then he was there—standing two short feet in front of her.

  Chloe looked up higher than she’d been expecting. Even with her taller heels, she felt inferior. It was a feeling she didn’t appreciate. She also wasn’t used to it. She was used to respect from all those around her. She’d earned that in her pursuit of perfection. There were many, many reasons she avoided this man.

  “Chloe.”

  Frozen. Chloe was frozen to the spot, needing to retreat but unable
to move so much as a pinkie, let alone get her legs to work. The deep drawl of his voice sent memories rushing through her of him saying her name as she’d looked deep into his eyes, of how he’d made her cry out multiple times. She couldn’t even wish it hadn’t happened, because it had been the best night of her life.

  She’d thought she was a strong woman, but she realized she was at this man’s mercy. It wasn’t a feeling she relished. Had her parents taught her nothing? They’d be disappointed in her if they could see how weak this one man made her feel.

  “Why are you hunting me down, Brandon?” she finally asked when she was sure her voice would work correctly. She might as well get to the point. She’d eaten up about two of the ten minutes she had until she needed to run away before her headache became unbearable. One word, and she was a mess. This meeting wasn’t going as planned, not one little bit.

  “How are you?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  “I’ve been just fine,” she told him. At the moment she wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. She’d be normal again as soon as she got him to leave her be—and she got some pills in her system to counter the headache. “Or I would be fine if you’d leave me alone. Seriously, you have to accept it was a one-night stand and it’s over. I don’t want it to be awkward when we’re in a room together.” If only she really felt this way. If only she didn’t want him so much.

  He smiled, then turned his head to the side. “Did you know that you’re the first woman I’ve ever met who actually stops me cold at the sight of you? Yes, you’re beautiful, and that’s worth stopping for, but it’s so much more than that,” he said in awe. His praise fell so effortlessly off his tongue she wasn’t sure what to say. No man had ever said anything like it to her before.

  Sure, she’d been called beautiful and feisty and other compliments, along with some insults. But never had a man looked at her as if she hung the moon and stars and told her how she stopped him cold. She wanted to melt against him. Not a good idea.

  Chloe took a second to compose herself and decided her moment of weakness was over. She wasn’t going to allow this man to turn her brain to mush any longer. She was a strong, independent woman, not some fluttering teenager who quickly fell under a new boy’s spell or carefully crafted words.

  “I warned you our night together was a onetime deal. So I’ll ask again, What are you doing bugging me at my work?” she said, more force to her voice. She was scared and had a headache taking over that was making her words sharper than they normally were.

  “You know exactly what I want,” he said conversationally. Though she did know what he was pushing for, his words made her think of something else. She hated that her mind didn’t seem to get out of the gutter around him. Maybe it was her sending mixed messages. She wasn’t sure. She did know she was damn confused.

  A nervous laugh escaped her tight throat, and her slight hysteria finally elicited a response from him as he raised an eyebrow. They were both still standing in his doorway, and she wasn’t sure where they went from there.

  “I’m busy, Brandon. I have my restaurant I’m trying to make successful, my volunteer work, my time at my parents’ cooking school. I don’t have time for games, and I really don’t have time for mind games.”

  That stopped him. His smile fell away.

  “I don’t want to play games with you, Chloe. Do you really hate me that much?” he asked. Her head was really beginning to hurt, and she wasn’t sure why she was suddenly feeling like the bad guy here.

  “It’s not that I hate you, Brandon. I just . . .” She trailed off. She wasn’t sure what to say. “I don’t know what I want.” She was shocked when those words came from her mouth.

  “I don’t know how to respond to that,” he said after a minute. She was feeling worse and worse that she’d hurt his feelings.

  “Brandon . . .” His name fell off with a sigh. She’d come to put her foot down, and suddenly she was feeling like the villain. What made that even worse was that she knew it wasn’t what he was trying to make her feel.

  “Why is this so complicated?” she finally asked.

  His gaze was so intent as he looked at her. She couldn’t have spoken at that moment at all. She was practically shaking as she stood before him. This hadn’t gone as she’d planned at all. This was more of a mess than ever before.

  “I’ve thought about our night together every single day since,” he finally said, the words casual, as if he weren’t shattering her into a million pieces. She didn’t want to take the bait, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “You’re confusing me.” The pain in her head was growing, and she knew her night was ruined. Even taking her migraine pills wouldn’t help at this point. She was in for a very long evening.

  “I’m confused myself. I don’t know what to do about it,” he said with a shrug.

  Her head was throbbing, and she seriously didn’t know what to do about it. If she wasn’t in pain, she knew she could be stronger, knew she could make better decisions, but right now she knew she needed to run. She didn’t like running, but she didn’t think she had a choice.

  “Coming here was a mistake,” she told him. “I’m leaving.”

  Her ten minutes were up. She knew the man could stop her, but she hoped he wouldn’t. Even after a million pep talks, she still wasn’t strong enough to face Brandon Anderson. She knew as she began making her way back down his uneven sidewalk that she never would be.

  He said nothing as she left, but she never heard the door shut behind her. Most likely he was watching her walk away. She was sure not too many women turned him down. Maybe she’d start a trend. She could be proud of herself. She’d come and looked him in the eye, and she’d left with her head throbbing, but she was leaving.

  Neither of them had agreed to anything, making this visit a giant waste of her time. She even wondered if there was a part of her that had wanted to see him today. Was she playing games . . . with him? With herself? She honestly wasn’t sure.

  After the burning in her head was settled, she might be able to feel proud of herself for trying to face the situation even with her thoughts completely muddied. But for now, all she felt was pain. She knew from experience the pain would dull. It would just take a very long time.

  If she could get Brandon off her mind with some magic pills, she’d take them in a heartbeat. But she had a feeling getting rid of the migraine was going to be a whole lot easier than getting rid of one very determined Anderson.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It took nearly twelve hours for Chloe to get control of her headache. She’d had to turn off all the lights, take a double dose of medicine, and then lie in bed with complete silence as she prayed her head wouldn’t turn inside out. But finally the pain was gone, and Chloe was too restless to stay inside the house even a minute longer.

  After donning her warmest coat, she stepped outside, inhaling the fresh night air. It was nearing midnight, but it didn’t matter. She lived in a place where the only crime reported was bored kids setting off bottle rockets in public restrooms. It irritated the heck out of the local sheriff but didn’t scare people into hiding away behind ten locks and a shotgun.

  Moving down her quiet neighborhood, Chloe focused on the Christmas decorations that were out, people choosing to leave their lights on all night for those who stayed up late. The holidays were approaching quickly, and her Christmas spirit had been zapped. Normally this was a time of year she loved—magic and possibilities were in the air. And she always came up with some fantastic Christmas creations. Her favorite cookies were produced this time of the year. She always drew a crowd to try out the treats.

  But all of that was now being tainted by Brandon’s insistence she team up with him. Just because her friends had married his brothers didn’t mean they should jump on the bandwagon. She was afraid she was beginning to want a ride, though.

  The smell of snow was in the air. She was surprised it hadn’t already fallen, but the weatherman had promised it would be there fo
r Christmas Eve. Maybe if she didn’t see Brandon again, she’d once again see the beauty of it all. She had to be open and willing for that to happen.

  Before she saw him or heard him, she felt him. Maybe she’d known the second she’d stepped outside he’d be there—maybe some deep, dark place inside her that was a glutton for punishment had known. But without a doubt she knew Brandon was walking up behind her. She didn’t slow and certainly didn’t turn, but soon he was at her side.

  “I heard you had a fondness for midnight strolls,” he said, his voice quiet, almost subdued, surprising her.

  She thought about ignoring him, pretending he wasn’t there as she finished her walk. But if she did that, he’d realize the power he held over her, and that wasn’t acceptable.

  “I’ve always been a creature of habit,” she said, keeping her tone moderated. “If I don’t walk, then I can’t get my mind to shut off, and then I never get any sleep.” She didn’t know why she was adding that, but talking to him had been natural from the start when she wasn’t on edge.

  “You might like your routines, but I’ve seen how much you’ve progressed in life just in the few short years I’ve known you,” he pointed out. “You’re a woman who likes to be the best and is never happy settling. It’s something I truly admire about you. It’s something I’ve always felt myself.”

  She was shocked enough by his words that she turned and looked at him. He was wearing a pair of sweats; what appeared to be several sweatshirts, making him seem a bit chubby; and a wool hat. It was chilly out, but he might have gone slightly overboard.

  “You’ve never seemed to be an overachiever to me,” she said.

  “That’s good because I don’t want people to know that,” he admitted. “If they know how important it is to me, then they’ll know I’m devastated when I fail. I hate empathy as much as I hate failing. Besides, when you grow up with four brothers, what’s the point in trying to compete? I’d rather they think I don’t have a care in the world. The best victories come about when others don’t even know you’re in the competition until they’re watching you from behind.”

 

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