Blushing Pink (15 page)

"Do you like French food?" Joanna asked him.

He smiled. "I like everything."

"Oh, Mom, that reminds me!" Ally said. "Both of Ben's aunts are vegans. I forgot to tell you."

"Oh,
Ally.
How could you for
get?"
Joanna moaned, clutching her neck.

"Why? What's the big deal?"

Reese stood up and said, "Come on, Brian; I'll fix you something good." Her voice didn't sound quite normal. He nodded, rising to his feet, and followed her into the kitchen.

Once her family was out of earshot, Reese picked up a wineglass, tried not to hyperventilate, and blurted, "About the other day—"

"Don't worry about it," he said quickly—calmly—and she had the distinct feeling that he
literally
wanted to forget about it. But unfortunately, that wouldn't do much for her guilty conscience, so that was out.

"Please let me explain," she said, finally finding most of her voice. "The truth is, I was talking to my mom and..." She dared a glance up, and saw that Brian's eyes were falling right on hers. Her breath caught. A moment passed before she got it back. "Well, to be honest, she was hounding me about my love life...."

His eyebrows pinched quizzically now, and Reese realized how it had sounded—as though she'd told her family about their brief encounter two years ago, and they considered him part of her "love life." Talk about embarrassing—for all she knew, Brian barely remembered the night they'd spent.

"Um, but, she always does that," Reese qualified, "even though the woman is completely clueless about it.... But that's another subject... um... The thing is, we weren't even talking about you."

She sucked in a breath, and resumed rattling. "See, she'd asked who'd gone to the diner the other night, and I said your name, and then she immediately started talking about this other guy I know—who she's pretty much living for—and that's who I was actually insulting." Fussing with her hair, Reese looked up at him sheepishly. "Is any of this making sense?"

The corner of Brian's mouth hitched up. "Oh... I see. I'm sorry; I feel like a complete idiot here. I totally jumped to the wrong conclusion."

Reese sighed with relief. "Oh, no, I totally understand!" She let out a laugh. "I'm so happy we cleared that up!"

Laughter died on her lips quickly. Was it her imagination or had Brian just moved a little closer to her? Her heart kicked up when Brian smiled down at her—a full smile of white teeth and warmth and sex appeal.
Oh, boy.

They remained there, just looking at each other. Reese was still holding a wineglass for him, and he was holding an empty plate, and it was the strangest moment—as though time were suspended, and neither could look away. Reese wondered if she was imagining the sudden intensity of Brian's expression. Maybe she was just projecting....

Finally he broke the moment. Squaring his shoulders, he gazed down at the buffet, then back up at Reese. "So... friends?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Reese smiled. "Friends," she said, taking his hand and never intending to hold it as long as she did. In her defense, though, it was hot, big, a little rough, and he was making no move to pull away. Instead, his hand lingered on hers, too, as he applied just enough pressure to spear heat straight between her legs.

Oh, Lord, what is he doing to me? (And would he be interested in doing more?)

Ally's voice sounded from the other room. "I don't know; let's get Reese's opinion. Reese, c'mon, we need to ask you something!"

Now the spell was broken—well, sort of. They dropped hands, averted their eyes, and behaved as though the sizzling moment hadn't just happened. But it had. And it would be a long time before Reese forgot it.

* * *

Brian followed Reese into the family room, watching her luscious, curvy ass the whole time. He hadn't intended to stare, but his eyes had wandered down and fixed themselves on black fabric molded tightly around each cheek, making his mouth water with every step.

It was such a bizarre relief to find out she hadn't said all those things about him. In fact, now that she'd explained the whole misunderstanding, it seemed so stupid.

Now that that was out of the way, Brian was left with the intense physical attraction he'd had since he'd met Reese two years ago. It was hard to believe that they'd really only interacted a handful of times now, because there seemed to be a sort of hot, ricocheting chemistry between them. Ever since that first time, New Year's Eve two years ago.

Although he hadn't given it much thought over the years, he could still remember the night vividly.

Especially the part when Reese had grabbed him and deepened their kiss, forcing him to sink against the wall, while his blood thundered and his groin throbbed. He couldn't deny how attracted he'd been to her then any more than he could deny that he still was. But how could he not be? She was cute as hell—so damn pretty—and there was something more to it, but he didn't know exactly what it was.

When he'd gotten Ben's message about the meeting, his first thought was that he'd have way too much work, and no time to drive out to the suburbs tonight. But after he'd finished with his paperwork early, and double-checked on Danny, he'd realized that he could do it, and he should do it, for Ben's sake. Ben was a good friend—definitely the most undemanding Brian had ever met. He'd asked Brian to be his best man a year ago, and hadn't asked one more thing of him since, so it seemed that the least Brian could do was to come to the meeting.

Not that he'd particularly wanted to face Reese after what'd happened at Roland & Fisk, as dumb as he now realized that was. He smiled faintly, thinking of how she'd frantically apologized, as if the whole misunderstanding were just eating her guts out. She was really sweet, he realized.

"Brian?"

"Yes... I'm sorry, what?" He was now sitting on the love seat next to Reese.

"I was asking if you liked the food," Mrs. Brock said, "because I was just about to put out dessert." She hopped up, and Reese's older sister got up, too.

Reese's thigh was touching his—just barely, but it was enough. He could feel her body heat warming him, touching him, sinking beneath his skin. Beside him, she shifted a little, rubbing up against his forearm in the process. "Oh, sorry," he said, shifting slightly, but not enough to break their contact.

"No, I'm sorry," she said quickly and quietly. She crossed her legs, and somehow grazed his wrist with her fingertips. He almost jerked up in his seat because her touch had taken him off guard. Then her hand was back on her knee.

Unable to resist, Brian darted an eye over, but all he saw was Reese calmly looking straight ahead. So she
hadn't
meant anything by it. Jesus, he was just reading into every move she made. He rested a hand on his knee, too, but it felt unnatural and artificially placed.

Hers appeared relaxed. He found himself studying them. They were creamy white and soft-looking, just like the rest of her. From their handshake in the kitchen, he knew they were more than soft—they were smooth, gentle, and warm.

"So, Reese, have you come up with any ideas for your toast?" her mother called from the kitchen.

"No... not really," she replied, sounding almost absent. Abruptly, she began tapping her fingertips on her knee—it was almost as if she knew he'd been looking at her hands. In a strange mating dance that might have existed only in Brian's head, he lightly drummed his fingers, too.

"So, Brian, what area of New York City do you live in?" Mrs. Brock called from the kitchen.

"Midtown," he replied, praying Reese's mother wouldn't notice when she came back in the room that his pants were starting to tent.

"Oh, did Ben tell you that we wanna move to Soho?" Ally said.

"Since
when?"
her mother cried. She ducked her head over the stone half-wall and said, "You're
not
moving to Soho; now please, no more of this talk—it's getting me stressed." Ally rolled her eyes, and Ben just smiled.

Brian attempted a friendly smile himself, but he wasn't really into it. The girl next to him was emanating so much heat, it was unreal. He tried not to concentrate on all the blood he felt rushing south—in strong, hot waves that flooded his senses and stiffened his dick.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the outline of Reese's big breasts. He shut his eyes for a second just to clear the image, but he only succeeded in replacing it with a more graphic mental one.
Shit.
Now he was as hard as a spike, thinking of Reese topless and straddling him.... Letting him suck her and squeeze her ass... spread her wider and shove the crotch of her panties to the side so he could—

"So how long have you been an engineer?" Mrs. Brock asked, setting down two trays of pastries. Angela followed behind, carrying a pot of coffee.

The others in the room descended on the food, but neither he nor Reese moved from the love seat. Reese uncrossed her legs. Experimentally, Brian very slightly pressed the outside of his thigh against hers. She pressed back. He turned his head to read her expression, but she was looking straight ahead, none the wiser.

Brian was starting to question his sanity. Okay, "sanity" was too strong. But his faculties were in serious doubt. God knew he needed to get laid—it had been way too long and his body was starving. But was it possible that he was so goddamn horny that he was imagining that Reese felt the same intense attraction?

"Brian?" someone said.

Oh, wait.
Mrs. Brock had asked him a question. Except he couldn't, for the life of him, remember what it was.

"Mommy, no offense," Ally interjected, "but we need to roll this meeting along. Ben and I are going to a concert tonight."

"A concert," Mrs. Brock repeated flatly, and shook her head. "Ally, you'd better get organized here." Ally looked as though she didn't follow.

Nevertheless, the meeting did roll along after that. Within a half hour, it was nearly done. Brian was still preoccupied with the possible foreplay between him and Reese. She was still thigh-to-thigh with him, but a few moments ago she'd shifted her upper body, angling herself slightly to the side. It had brought the curve of her breast up against his upper arm. He'd expelled a breath, and battled more images—Reese peeling down her bra, putting her breasts in her hands, rubbing her nipples, and offering them to him.

This was crazy. He hadn't seen her or even thought much about her in two years, and now he was burning.

"All right, I think we're finally done!" Reese's mom announced. Ally heaved a dramatic sigh and flopped back onto Ben's shoulder as if exhausted. Angela muttered, "Thank you, God," and her husband said nothing. Mr. Brock had fallen asleep on the recliner.

Everyone stood up and headed out of the family room. Brian and Reese slowly got to their feet as well, not making eye contact. Brian was too aroused to think straight, preoccupied with a fierce urge to take her right there, against the wall.

As people filed out the front door, bidding their good-byes, Brian said, "Bye, Reese. It was good seeing you again."

She smiled a little shyly as her face turned a rosy kind of color that brought out the light green of her eyes. "Yeah, um, thanks for understanding, you know, about the cafe." Brian watched her lick her lower lip. Then he watched her bite it, and hold it under her teeth too long to be anything but suggestive.

Chapter 11

Brian stripped down and stepped into the shower. Lathering the soap, he rubbed it up and down his body in quick movements, eager to get finished so he could fall into bed. He picked up the shampoo bottle, threw a glob on his head, and scrubbed roughly. Then, with his chin tipped down, he took the brunt of hot, beating spray, and thought about Reese.

The whole night had been so unexpected. The Brocks were really a charming family. Ally had been her usual free-spirited self, and the older sister, Angela, was also sweet. Her husband seemed like a good guy, too. And Reese... there was obviously something about her that excited him on his most basic gut level.

Closing his eyes, he replayed one of his fantasies until his nostrils were flaring and his chest was tight. Bracing one hand on the shower wall, he used the other to soap and squeeze the hard, swollen part of him that was aching.

After his shower, Brian carelessly towel-dried his hair, shoved on some clean boxers, and fell into bed in exhaustion. When he heard his phone ring, he almost groaned. There was no way he was getting up. No. Way.

But what if it was an emergency?

He cocked his ear as his answering machine picked up.

"Hi, Bri, it's me."
Veronica.
"Well... I just called to talk. I hope you're having a good night. Where are you? Well, just give me a call at work tomorrow, okay? Sweet dreams."

Now he did groan—and roll onto his back to stare at the ceiling and think things through. He and Veronica weren't back together yet, but it looked like they were heading in that direction. She'd made it very clear what she wanted, and that was to resurrect the eight-year relationship they had ended two years before.