Playing with Dynamite Page 3

  Carly frowned in concern. “Business okay?”

  “Booming,” Brick said.

  She exchanged a sidelong glance with Russ. “Anything else bothering you?”

  Brick shrugged. “Nothing that a few more beers and a shower won’t cure.”

  “What’s her name?” Russ asked.

  Brick stopped midmotion in lifting the can to his lips, then set it down on the table. He didn’t look at Carly or Russ. He knew what he would see. Russ would be wearing that probing, no-nonsense, give-me-some-answers expression, and Carly would look worried. And Brick had thought he’d fooled them all. “It’s no big deal. It’s all over, anyway.”

  “If it’s no big deal, then why have you been here five of the last six weekends?”

  That stung. Brick tried to shake it off and forced a grin. “Hey, if I’ve been imposing, you should let me know. I’m sleeping all the way over on the opposite side of the house, so I’ve only heard you scream once or twice.”

  His younger sister didn’t blush. She rolled her eyes. “I knew we wouldn’t get a straight answer from you. The CIA could take lessons from you on how to keep from disclosing secrets. You must not have been too serious about her, or you would have brought her down here for us to meet.”

  Brick rubbed his finger in the condensation on the can. “Why would I do that?”

  She looked at him with ill-concealed impatience. “Because that’s the normal thing to do. When you really care about a woman, you want her to meet your adorable younger sister and all six of your brothers. You don’t just want her to meet them. You want her to like them.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe she didn’t want to meet my family.”

  Silence hung heavy in the room, and Brick looked up to meet his sister’s gaze. “And maybe I waited until it was too late.”

  The next day Brick returned to Chattanooga with Russ’s words ringing in his ears: “Too late is when she’s got somebody else’s wedding band on her finger.”

  He hadn’t ever spent much time thinking about why he didn’t want to get married, because it was one of those things that he had decided when he was twelve years old. His mother had died, and his father might as well have. For the sake of the kids he’d remarried a sour woman who’d grown more sour because his father couldn’t love her.

  Carly had spent a year stuttering, his oldest brother, Daniel, had become an old man before his time. His stepmother had nearly ruined Garth. Brick had watched his family flounder, and in the middle of it all, he had felt lost.

  His mother had been the silken thread of joy that had bound them all together. He’d been angry that she’d left them. His anger had turned to fear when he watched what her death did to his father. All this, Brick realized, because his father had loved his mother too much. It was a knowledge that seemed to spring from his very soul.

  At the idea of marriage, Brick experienced a physical and visceral response. His skin grew clammy, his mouth went dry and he felt as if he were going to throw up. Even now, as he drove into Chattanooga, he felt it, the powerful edginess that went beyond simple aversion. In the past he’d always put it down to exceptional male survival instincts.

  Since two of his brothers and his sister, Carly, had taken the plunge and gotten married, though, he was forced to reevaluate. Daniel had been acting like a kid out of school since he’d married Sara Kingston a few months earlier. Brick never would have believed it, but since Garth had hooked Erin Lindsey, he was happier than Brick could have imagined. And Carly seemed utterly content in her marriage to Russ.

  But Brick thought of a friend who worked in construction. The guy used to work the high beams until one day when he fell. After that, Brick’s friend told him that even the thought of going up again made him break into a cold sweat.

  For a sliver of a moment, Brick wondered if a man could develop the same clinical kind of fear of marriage. Uneasiness trickled in. Brick snorted in disbelief. A phobia about marriage? Get real. What would they call it?

  Ten minutes later, he was cruising the parking lot of Lisa’s apartment complex. After noting that her car was there, he parked and rang her doorbell. It was a warm day, so he decided to check the pool too. He knew Lisa usually took a break from working on Sunday afternoon.

  She was stretched out on a chaise longue, slathering sunscreen all over her nearly bare body. Her hair was loosely piled on top of her head, and a huge pair of sunglasses with white frames was sliding down her nose. She wore a purple one-piece bathing suit with flowers all over it and skinny little straps holding up the delectably filled bodice. It was cut low enough in front and high enough on the thighs that Brick could have used some aspirin to bring down the sudden surge of his body temperature. His mouth watered just looking at her. Didn’t women realize that one of most men’s top ten fantasies usually involved taking off a woman’s bathing suit, lathering her down with something slippery, then having her return the favor to him?

  He dipped his hand into the pool, splashed some water on his face, and walked toward her. He shook his head. One look, he thought, and she’d turned him inside out.

  “Need some help,” he offered.

  Lisa’s head whipped around.

  He saw a spark of recognition and excitement flicker through her eyes just before she shoved the glasses back into place. Hoping like hell he didn’t screw up, he pulled a chair closer and sat down.

  “No. I’m about done.” She smoothed the cream over her shoulders one last time.

  Brick noticed a dot of unspread lotion on the inside of her left breast and felt a ridiculous envy for her suntan lotion. He hadn’t touched her intimately in over a month. “You missed a spot.”

  Lisa glanced down the front of her, her sunglasses slipping again. “Where?”

  Brick lowered his voice. “Where you used to let me touch you.”

  Lisa went completely still. Her gaze automatically went to her thighs, and then to Brick. A memory taunted her of his hands caressing and teasing her until she arched against him, and his hard legs brushing against her softer ones as he slowly slid inside her… With devastating speed, she felt the beginning of her body’s automatic response. She bit the inside of her cheek. Edgy, she sucked in a deep breath and crammed her sunglasses back up again. “Oh for Pete’s sake! Where is it?”

  Before she could blink, he put one index finger on her breast and gently spread the dot of lotion. One second, she felt the sensuous stroke of his finger and was struck by the fascination his heavy-lidded gaze didn’t hide. Then his hand was gone, and she was trying to get her brain to work.

  “I wouldn’t want you to get burned.”

  Lisa cleared her throat. She pushed down the cap on the lotion and tossed it into her tote bag. “No, I, uh, wouldn’t—what are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “Just got back from Beulah County and thought I’d see how your—” He paused, wondering what to call it. “—search is going?”

  She eased back into her chair and closed her eyes. Perhaps if she didn’t look at him, her heart rate would settle down. “It’s going fine. I have a date tonight.”

  “Is this a three-star man?”

  Lisa refused to feel embarrassed about that again. “Of course.”

  “You never told me what three stars means.”

  “That’s right. It’s none of your business,” she said cheerfully.

  “Must be damned convenient to be able to turn your feelings on and off like a faucet,” he said sincerely. “I haven’t had the same luck.”

  Lisa blinked and stared at him. His words shook her. “Oh, for crying out loud, I never—”

  “Just because you’re gonna marry another man,” Brick said the words, and felt as if he were chewing nails, “doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, does it?”

  The sudden look of confusion on Lisa’s face would have been amusing if Brick hadn’t been fighting for his life. “Friends?” she said tentatively, as if it were a new word.

  “Sure. It’s a lot better than being ene
mies.” It’s a lot better than nothing, he added to himself.

  “We’ve never really been friends,” Lisa said, her voice laced in skepticism.

  Brick had to work to take that jab in stride. “With all your…dates—” Brick forced the repugnant word out “—it would be nice to have a friend around, someone you’ve known for a long time, someone who knows you, someone you don’t have to impress.” He grinned. “Someone you could tell what those three stars represent.”

  Lisa laughed uncertainly and shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “C’mon,” Brick said, putting a little dare in his voice. “If I were your friend, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  Lisa hesitated, looking doubtful. She cocked her head to one side, and Brick wished he could take off her sunglasses to read her eyes. She gave a sigh. “All right. The three stars mean the man likes women and children, and he’s not opposed to the general idea of marriage.”

  “What about money, appearance, age and sex?”

  Lisa gave a little shrug. “They’re all secondary to the other three qualities. Age and appearance can be settled on the first date, money by the second, and sex…”

  Brick’s gut tightened.

  “Sex would be last.”

  Sex with another man would be never, if Brick had anything to do with it. He rubbed his hand over his mouth in restraint. “It sounds like a plan,” he muttered.

  “It is. This book I’ve been reading says you can get married in less than two years. It talks about keeping a practical attitude and using your resources.”

  The book again. “Using your resources?”

  Lisa nodded. “One of the most interesting facts it reported was that many married couples are introduced by mutual friends, so the author suggested that you tell all your friends that you’re looking and ask for recommendations.”

  Lisa looked at him and a strange expression crossed her face. Brick experienced an even stranger foreboding. In the back of his mind he could almost hear the cock of a gun. She leaned forward, and her sunglasses slipped again to give him a view of the complete sincerity in her eyes. Her lips curved into a slow, siren smile designed to drop a man at fifty paces. And Brick was at one and a half.

  “Tell me, Brick,” she said sweetly, “can you recommend one of your friends to father my children?”

  Chapter Three

  She might as well have shot him.

  Speechless, Brick stared at her for a full minute.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Lisa asked. “I asked you if—”

  “I heard you,” he finally managed, thinking he could use a double Jack Daniels straight up right now. Where had that breeze gone? he wondered as he tugged on his collar. “I’ll have to think about it and get back to you. I don’t usually evaluate my friends with an eye as to how good they’d be at fathering children.”

  “I guess not,” she conceded, and spritzed her neck with a spray bottle of water.

  His gaze homed in on the droplets dotting her chest. He wanted to lick every bit of water from her skin, spritz her, and do it again until his thirst was at least temporarily quenched. Instead he licked his lips and turned to the pool where a couple of kids played splashing games. “It sounds as if you’ve got this all planned out.”

  “Some of it.” Lisa pulled a sheet of paper from her tote bag. “I got this in the mail the other day.”

  Brick leaned forward to read it. “Meet your mate, not just a date. A dating service?” he said, unable to hide his horror. “Have you gone crazy? You’ll have every nut in Tennessee calling you day and night.”

  She set her chin stubbornly. “It’s just one of my options. Senada’s also—”

  “Senada!”

  When Lisa’s chin rose another notch, Brick bit his tongue, laced his fingers together and cracked all his knuckles at once.

  “She knows a lot of men.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” he muttered.

  “She knows a lot more about men than I do and—”

  “You always knew enough for me,” he pointed out in a dark velvet voice. “And what you didn’t know, I sure as hell liked teaching you.”

  Lisa’s heart seemed to pause, then flutter wildly. She’d kept the conversation centered on her search for a husband as a means of protection because she felt more than bare beneath Brick’s gaze. She felt naked.

  Every time his eyes lingered, she felt as if he’d touched her. Could he tell she was having a hard time breathing normally? Could he sense the way her nipples tingled? Did he know about the insidious moist warmth that built within her because her body simply couldn’t forget what he’d been to her? He was looking at her as if she were the only woman in the world, and despite all her resolutions her mouth was cotton-dry from his intoxicating effect on her.

  Lisa swallowed hard. “You don’t understand. Senada’s had a lot more experience—”

  “I know,” he said dryly.

  “No.” She sighed. “Let me put it this way. Senada was the kind of girl who had five offers to go to her high school prom.”

  “And?” Brick was waiting for the rest of the story. Something told him it would be important.

  “And I got no offers,” Lisa admitted reluctantly. “I was in the National Honor Society, I took piano lessons, went to church like a good girl. I was great with books, but when it came to guys, I was…”

  “Shy,” Brick supplied for her, feeling a twist of compassion. He recalled a few girls from his own high school days that had seemed awkward and shy with the boys. They’d often been the last ones picked for dates because their uneasiness had transferred itself to the boys.

  She gave a small dip of her head. “That would be putting it very generously.”

  “You’re not in high school anymore, Lisa.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “I’m all grown up with a woman’s body and mind—and a woman’s needs.” She gave a rueful smile. “But I’ve still got the heart of a child, and Senada tells me I’ve got plenty to offer the right man. I just need to find him.”

  Brick felt as if she’d just sliced him in two. He narrowed his eyes at the sharp pain. There was too much he hadn’t told Lisa. In his quest to remain uncommitted, he’d managed to be blind as a bat about her vulnerabilities. She was a gentle woman, beautiful both inside and out, and if he’d had his act together, maybe she wouldn’t be wondering if she would find the right man. If he’d had his head on straight, she’d be in his arms and he wouldn’t feel like someone had ripped out his guts.

  Brick took the first step in a new direction. He tugged off her glasses, hooked his thumb under her chin and looked directly in her eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he said, hearing the roughness in his own voice, “there aren’t words enough to tell you. No matter what happens, don’t ever forget that.” He squeezed her chin slightly when she would have looked away. “Ever.”

  A long moment passed, with the sound of kids doing cannonballs off the diving board in the background. In some corner of his mind, he heard a mother scolding her child. At the moment none of it meant squat to Brick if Lisa didn’t believe him.

  She bit her lip, and her eyelids fluttered down. “I don’t think I could forget it.” Then as if she couldn’t bear the intensity emanating from him anymore, she lifted her chin away and quickly slid out of the other side of the lounge chair. “I think I need to cool off.”

  Brick nodded and stood. His mind full and his heart heavy, he watched her ease into the water. The ironic realization sank deep into his gut that he had spent his professional life tearing down things, destroying them. He was an expert at it. Hell, he couldn’t enter a building without looking for the weak spots and figuring out how to bring it down.

  He watched Lisa, and the sting of longing inside him grew. If he really wanted Lisa, then for the first time in his life he was going to have to put something back together and make it stronger than before.

  “So, was the latest one any good?” Senada asked as she propped herself o
n Lisa’s desk and crossed her legs.

  Lisa quickly moved her papers out of the way of her flamboyant partner. Senada Calhoun, who had inherited her long black hair, year-round tan, and large brown eyes from her Puerto Rican mother, had also inherited her Texan father’s ability to flirt. Thus she attracted men with the same ease that most normal humans brushed their teeth. Answering to the nickname Sin, Senada laughed and had a good time, but she didn’t take any of the lust-struck men seriously.

  She had, however, begun to take a very personal interest in Lisa’s quest to find a husband. Lisa grimaced at the memory of her latest date. “He was interesting,” she said evasively.

  Senada arched one dark eyebrow. “Interesting is a polite way of saying he was a loser.”

  Lisa straightened the papers. “I wouldn’t really say he was a loser, but I don’t think we would be a good match. He was attractive, but he might like women a little too much. A year ago he joined this new alternative lifestyle group where a man’s spiritual value is measured by how many wives he has.”

  “You’re too kind. The sleaze was already married,” Senada concluded without surprise.

  “No. He’s hoping to marry six different women within the next year, though.” Lisa shook her head, remembering the dismay she’d felt when he’d told her the benefits of multiple marriage partners. “I’m working at being flexible, but I draw the line at polygamy.”

  “What about the one on Thursday night?”

  “He was nice. Five inches shorter than I am.” Lisa looked away from the amusement flickering in Senada’s eyes. “I realize appearances really shouldn’t matter, but…”

  Senada giggled. “You don’t have to make excuses to me, la chica. Have you heard from Rock lately?”

  Lisa smothered a laugh. “Brick. His name is Brick.” Since she’d broken up with Brick, Senada continually confused his name. Lisa was beginning to think it was deliberate.

  Senada shrugged. “Brick. Rock. They’re both the same—hardheaded.”

  “He stopped by to see me on Sunday.” Lisa caught the chiding expression on Senada’s face and rushed to explain. “He said he wants to be friends.” She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.