Damage Control (12 page)

Was it any wonder he hated change? Every time he tried to change things, he fucked them up. His life right now as a prime example.

“Did you ask the others if they wanted to buy the house?”

“They're all settled into their own houses already. They wouldn't want this old place.”

“Maybe they would.” Maybe
somebody
would. It would kill him to see a complete stranger get a hold of it and start changing things. Yeah, the place needed a fresh coat of paint and some updating, but it seemed blasphemous to think of anyone outside the family doing it.

“Why don't you buy it?”

He frowned. He'd never thought before about buying a house by himself. He'd always assumed it was something he and his wife would choose together. But here he was, thirty years old, no wife and no prospects. He wasn't rich, but he'd been saving money since he'd started his first job at fourteen and had more than enough for a down decent payment.

“Maybe I will.”

Her eyes widened, as if she hadn't expected him to agree, but then the surprise quickly faded to a smile. “It's a big house for one person.”

“I won't be alone forever.”

“I know. I just…I want to see you settled down and happy like your brothers and sisters.”

“You aren't the only one.”

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

He thought about his answer for a few seconds, but then gave her the truth, or at least his version of it. “No.”

“A house is a big responsibility.”

Good thing he wasn't a slacker. “Why are you trying to talk me out of it? You suggested I buy the place a second ago.”

“I know. I just don't want to see you get in over your head.”

He'd never been in over his head. Not once. He'd always taken the safe route. The only risks he'd really taken had been small, like the tattoos. Until Andrea. She'd changed him, but he didn't know yet if it was for the better. Maybe now it was time to test out a few risks.

Chapter Eight

Brian was still thinking about what his mother had said hours later, as he ran the track at the gym near the office. Five miles had come and gone, and still he couldn't get his head clear. That seemed to be par for the course lately. He had a couple of tough decisions to make, not the least of which involved his lack of a relationship with Andrea. As much as it killed him to even think it, he was going to have to end the benefits part of their friendship. If he lost her as a friend, he'd have to learn to deal with it. He couldn't handle being used any longer. And that was exactly what she was doing.

He slowed to a walk to cool down, and a lap later stepped into the hallway leading to the locker room. She might not realize it, but she
was
using him. This was all about having fun for her, and while he'd enjoyed it, he was wasting his life wanting something from her that she would never give. A month or so had passed, and this thing with her was going nowhere. It was time to move on.

The icy blast of the air conditioner hit him as soon as he walked into the locker room. A quick shower washed off the sweat, and fifteen minutes later he was in his car on his way home, windows open, radio blasting a Led Zeppelin tune. One of the women at the gym had been hitting on him lately, asking him out for a drink, and he might take her up on the offer. He was still young, technically single, so what could it hurt? There was nothing wrong with it, since Andrea refused to even think about a commitment.

Except, it didn't feel right. He could search all over the damned world, and he wouldn't find another woman like her. Hell, she might even be the one. Figured that he couldn't have her, at least not for keeps.

Tonight he would tell her. He'd show up at her place so she couldn't tell him it wasn't a good time, that she had too much work to do. He wanted more from her, and he wasn't going to be blamed for holding her back.

He wanted more for himself, too, and the revelation stunned him. He'd thought he'd been happy with his life, but it had taken this mess with Andrea to show him he was wrong. He wasn't really happy. He was just good at pretending. For way too long, he'd been going through the motions. It was time to stop it. To stop everything and make a fresh start. Some major life changes would soon be in order.

He'd already visited the bank about a mortgage, and hoped to have an answer in a few days. Next, he needed to think about his job. He'd started with Regal right out of college, and though he loved his work, he was spinning his wheels. He couldn't quit outright and still afford the house, but he'd have to think of something. It was time to make himself happy for once, instead of sitting around waiting for happiness to find him.

 

 

 

Claire was already at Amber's office when Andrea showed up for their appointment about planning Lena's wedding. She slid onto the couch next to her sister and tried to force a smile. Instead, she only managed a sneeze.

Claire shook her head. “I told you it was only a matter of time before your work schedule pushed you over the edge. You're sick, aren't you?”

As a dog.
She'd woken up that morning feeling like her skull would crack from the pounding. Her skin had been hot from the fever and her nose was so stuffed up she couldn't breathe. “It's just a cold.”

“Stress is what it is. You need to find an outlet for some of that tension.”

She already had an outlet, in the form of Brian and the amazing sex, but at the same time, she couldn't help think something was missing. They hadn't talked in what felt like forever. It hadn't bothered her at first. She'd been too busy enjoying this new facet of their relationship. But then she'd started to miss having someone to vent to. The last few weeks had been tough, with so much work and not enough down time. Yes, she missed Brian, but it would be worth it. If things went the right way, within a few months' time, she'd be a partner at Regal Advertising. Her career would be set and she'd never have to worry about it again.

She would have been happy about that, if she didn't feel like her head was stuffed with cotton. The crappy feeling she'd woken up with had only gotten worse as the day progressed. She'd taken a decongestant, but the aches and chills told her the illness was more than a common cold. Hopefully the meeting with Jake's wife would be short. She really needed to get home and crawl into bed. For about two weeks.

“So where is Lena?” Andrea asked between coughs.

As if on cue, Lena marched into the office, looking like she owned the place. She smiled at her sisters. “So, are we going to start the meeting now?”

“As soon as Amber is ready.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “I really don't have all day. I have an appointment with more potential caterers all afternoon.
Mom
set them up, so I'm sure they're no good at all.”

She didn't complain further, and Andrea considered them all lucky. If Lena had made one more snide comment, she might have ended up with that purse shoved where the sun didn't shine. There was only so much of this a person could take.

Amber stepped out of her office, followed by another client. She said goodbye to the woman and ushered Andrea's family inside. They all took seats around a large, oval conference table.

“Nice to see you again, Andrea,” Amber said. “And nice to meet you, Lena and Claire. Brian tells me you're having trouble making some decisions as far as your wedding goes?”

Lena let out a sigh through pursed lips. “He would tell you that, of course. He's a man. What does he understand?”

Amber offered Lena a sympathetic smile. “Nothing, I'm sure. Believe me, I'm married to one of the Storm men. They tend to think they know everything, even when they really don't have a clue.”

Her comment seemed to put Lena at ease. Lena settled back in the chair, nodding her head, and Andrea fought against a smile. Amber was a miracle worker, taming the wild Bridezilla in seconds flat. Finally, someone who could help her get this wedding off the ground. If left to her own devices, Lena would tank the whole thing in a matter of days.

Amber pulled a pad of paper and a pen in front of her, tapping the pen cap on the table. “So tell me, Lena. What is your vision for this wedding?”

“I want it
big
.”

Amber laughed. “Okay, that's a start. And ideas on colors?”

“Not really. I'm still trying to work that out. I was thinking burnt orange and avocado green, since it's a fall wedding.”

Amber's eyes widened, but to her credit, that was her only reaction to Lena's suggestion. “Okay. We can talk about that a little later. Cranberry and taupe also make wonderful fall colors, and they're a little more understated. That's something to think about. If your bridesmaids are wearing orange or avocado, you run the risk of them showing you up on your wedding day.”

Lena frowned. “Oh, no. That won't do. I like cranberry and taupe, too.”

“Brian also mentioned you have appointments with some caterers this afternoon. Would you like me to come along with you?”

“Andrea was planning to.”

Andrea's gaze shot to her sister. That was news to her. Hadn't she told their mother she didn't have time to help anymore?

“Andrea looks like she needs to go home and get some sleep. I've been hired to take care of you, and I'll help you with every last detail.”

Lena perked up at that. “Every detail?”

“Yep. Down to the very littlest thing.”

Andrea almost groaned. Didn't Amber have any clue she was about to be eaten alive? But then the strangest thing happened. Lena seemed to relax even more. The wild, controlling look in her eyes disappeared. After about twenty minutes, Amber gestured for Andrea and Claire to leave. “You ladies head home now. Lena and I have this covered. And Andrea, please get some sleep, honey. You look like you're about to keel over any second.”

Wasn't that refreshing? She would have been annoyed, had she not
felt
like she was about to keel over. There were times to be strong, and times to give in to what her body wanted, and right now, it just wanted to climb back under the covers and stay there for about a decade. Unfortunately, home was a half-hour drive away when she was well. Sick, it took her closer to forty-five minutes.

When she finally made it back to her apartment—after a quick pit stop at the grocery store for some tissues and orange juice, she was surprised to see Brian standing outside the door. He held a plastic container in his hand.

“About damned time,” he told her, stepping away from the wall. “I was worried about you.”

“What do you have?”

“Chicken soup. Don't worry. I didn't make it. I picked it up at the deli a block down on my way over here.”

She forced a weak laugh at his joke. Brian couldn't cook. Not even a little bit. She'd tried to teach him one time, and it had been a disaster. “How did you know I'm sick?”

“Amber called me after you left her office. I drove right over here, and I'm glad I did. It looks like you really need someone here.”

Andrea shook her head.

“Don't start. You should have called me. I would have come over to Amber's office and driven you home, Did you expect her not to let me know? My family takes care of their own.”

“I'm not one of you.”

“You're my best friend. That makes you part of the family.”

Something about the way he said it niggled, but she'd have to analyze it later. At the moment, she was too sick to care.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside. Brian followed. Once he'd closed and locked the door behind them, he started barking orders, almost military style. “Go change into pajamas and get into bed. Now, before you pass out on the floor. I'll bring you some cold medicine, soup, and a glass of juice, but not until you're under those covers.”

Too tired to argue, she did what he demanded, secretly loving the fact that he was there wanting to take care of her. For once, this had nothing to do with sex. It was about Brian wanting to be her friend again. Being the caring, sweet man she'd first been drawn to when she'd started at Regal. Her heart warmed, and she was too weak at the moment to stop it. When she was well, she could pretend she wasn't falling for him, but sick, forget it.

Once she was tucked into bed, Brian came in with a tray laden with her meal. He sat on the empty side of the bed to keep her company while she ate, but she didn't manage much. Soon the cold medicine he'd brought her started to make her feel drowsy.

“I think I need to take a nap now,” she told him. “Are you staying, or will you be gone when I get up?”

“I can stay the whole weekend, if you want to.”

“I'm not up for sex right now.”

“That's not what I have in mind. Right now, I just want to be your friend, okay?”

Even as she nodded, she had a feeling he was talking about more than this weekend. There was a finality to his tone and his expression. With his declaration, he'd just ended the fling between them.

 

 

 

Andrea tossed and turned for most of the day and into the night, and Brian spent the time sitting on the bed with her, back against the headboard and feet crossed at the ankles, absently flipping through the channels on the TV. He'd even dozed a time or two himself, but not out of illness. Out of boredom. He was trying not to think about how he was going to explain things to her. He wanted to tell her now, but he couldn't do it while she was ill.

He must have dozed again, because the next time he woke up, it was Sunday morning. Andrea lay on her side watching him, her skin still flushed but her eyes a little clearer.

“Hey,” she said softly, running her fingers up and down his arm. “Thanks for staying. I'm such a baby when I'm sick.”

“I don't mind. That's what friends do.”

“Right. Friends.”