Dirty Distractions (13 page)

She wasn’t. When she opened up the dam inside her, there would be no stopping the flood. How could she take that gamble when he’d yet to give her something substantial to hold on to?

“Easy?” he repeated as if she’d never spoken. “You think it’s easy for me to campaign for you to give us a chance every time I turn around? Especially when I know that my age is only the tip of the damn iceberg of why you don’t see me as long-term material.”

Long-term material
. Then her skin chilled at the rest of what he’d said despite the heat from his body. “What are you saying?”

“Who do you usually date, Sara? Doctors, like you. Or lawyers. Or accountants. Men with fancy degrees and money coming out of their asses. What do I have to compete with that? When you met me, I was living with my sister in my mom’s old place. Temporarily, yes, and not for financial reasons. Still counts.” He tugged at her towel, his frustration clear. “Could I move somewhere else? Sure. Does my shop bring in decent money? Absolutely. Will I ever have letters after my name? Never.”

“Do you really think that matters to me?”

His penetrating gaze met hers. “Does it?”

“No. Of course not.” She released a long breath. “Look, I’m not going to say I never wondered if our worlds could mix. But that’s not because I think less of you. You’ve built an incredible business, and you have the kind of tight relationships with your employees that I’m still working on with my coworkers. I don’t draw people in like you do. And well, you know I’ve been way too concerned with what others might think, which just shows I have a lot of growing up of my own to do.” Swallowing hard, she covered his hands with hers. “I’m trying, Brad.”

“Try harder,” he suggested. He rose from the bed and grabbed the remote, settling back beside her without another word.

Yes, she was definitely better with birds.

He’d given her plenty to think about, including how much she was asking of him. Neither of them had made any declarations, and that was probably a good thing. They were still learning to trust each other, and she hadn’t given him much to work with. If she wanted him in her life as more than a friend, she needed to show him that the man he was—without any letters after his name—was more than man enough for her.

No problem. She’d just add that to her growing To Do list.

They watched two movies,
Inception
and
Kill Bill
. She loved both, and because he was more considerate than any man should be, he’d remembered that and ordered them for her. He’d even stashed Twizzlers in his nightstand where the condoms she’d once thought he ordered by the case should’ve been.

There was something so comforting about curling up in his bed and snuggling in the flickering light from his big TV, passing a bag of candy back and forth and exchanging the occasional comment about the movie. Something even better about lying together in the deepest, darkest part of the night, arms and legs tangled, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He kissed every part of her face, from her hairline to her jaw and back again. When their mouths finally touched, he moaned, and the sound reverberated through her like a string strummed on a guitar. Sweetly. Powerfully. He didn’t have to slide inside her then, because he’d already found another way in.

Through her heart.

She woke before dawn to an empty bed. Disappointment came first, followed by curiosity. She slid her hand across the cool sheets and sat up, wondering where he’d gotten off to so early. It wasn’t even light out yet. Maybe he’d gone for a run? He probably figured she wouldn’t be up for a while.

She rolled over on her stomach and spread out on his enormous bed, sighing a little at the scent of his aftershave and the soap they used at the shop. It was some heavy-duty stuff that smelled more like detergent. Clean. Her lashes fluttered and she smiled. She’d just have to get him all dirty again.

Right before her eyes closed she glimpsed the folded note on the nightstand. She snatched it up and squinted to make out his messy writing.

Went to fix your car. I’ll drop it off when I’m done. Get some sleep. XO

“Aw, dammit.” A wave of guilt swept over her, and she gripped the note tighter. She didn’t want him to have to go to all that trouble. But then again, he hadn’t been too impressed with her attempt to drive his truck. He probably wanted to save his baby from more abuse.

And he was beyond sweet too. No arguing that.

Now that she knew he wouldn’t be returning anytime soon, she hauled herself out of bed and into the shower. She took a quick, hot one and dried off, jumping from foot to foot to avoid the cold floor. Old houses were great, but they had their quirks.

Her gaze landed on the candles that had guttered out in their own wax on the back of the sink. Shoot. She must be abandoning all sense entirely, because she’d forgotten all about them, as had Brad. They were lucky they hadn’t burned the house down.

A goofy grin slipped across her face as she padded back into his room. One way or another…

She straightened up as best she could then opened the door. Just as well she’d gotten up early. Now she could return to her own room before Kim was any the wiser.

Or not.

“There you are,” Kim exclaimed, stopping dead in her gimpy flight up the hallway from Sara’s room. She clutched the doll she’d obviously removed from Sara’s bed in her hands. “What the fuck is this all about? I was about to—” Her gaze slipped down Sara’s still-damp body, only partially disguised by the towel she held weakly to her chest. “What the hell are you doing in my brother’s room?
Naked
?”

Chapter Nine

Brad hit the landing of the stairs in time to hear the voices on the second level. At first he thought the girls were arguing, then he realized it was just Sara talking loud enough to shake the bats from the belfries they didn’t have.

“Oh, that’s your mom’s doll. You know, the one on the rocker. Isn’t she pretty? I love her hair. It’s so silky.”

“Yeah, Sar, the doll’s awesome. Why was she in your bed?” Undecipherable mumbling. Probably swear words, knowing his sister. “And why were you in Brad’s room?”

He gripped the banister and fought his urge to haul his ass upstairs and handle this situation once and for all. Surely Sara would fess up now, since everything was practically out in the open. She couldn’t keep lying when she was obviously caught.

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep in there last night, and I didn’t want you to worry that I’d never come home. You have enough on your mind. How are you feeling? Is your ankle better?”

He knocked his head against the wall. It didn’t diminish his ability to hear Sara’s high, panicked voice. For fuck’s sake. She couldn’t be honest. Instead she had to fabricate these asinine stories and expected him to go along with them. Every time he thought they were closer to her telling Kim they were seeing each other, she pulled some new shit.

Like telling Kim her bird had been mouthy, and Brad had been “out” so she’d used his room.

As much as he kept trying to deny it, it was becoming clear Sara might have another reason for not coming clean. Maybe she was ashamed of him. He wasn’t only younger, he was a mechanic. One that owned his own shop, true, but that would never compare to the men in the circles she belonged to.
He
didn’t compare, if she only looked at stats on a sheet.

He’d believed she wasn’t that superficial. Perhaps he was wrong.

About a lot of things.

There was no denying he had strong feelings for her. First as a friend, then as a lover. Somehow she’d slipped into the girlfriend role in his mind, and clearly that wasn’t in the cards. If she believed he’d keep lying indefinitely, evidently she hadn’t been paying attention last night. Good—fine, amazing—sex wasn’t worth losing his self-respect. He’d already done that once by marrying a woman he didn’t love for the sake of a child that didn’t exist. Months later, he’d yet to shake the betrayal that came from being played. And the disappointment of losing a child he’d never truly had but had come to love.

Now there was a new disappointment and new lies. Worst of all, he’d been complicit in them. Instead of looking deeper into why Sara wanted to keep things private, he’d taken her at face value. Obviously he hadn’t learned anything from the Darla situation.

At least he knew Sara wouldn’t try to trap him in a relationship. She didn’t want one, not with him.

So much for hoping that she’d swiftly see the idiocy of her plan to hide their relationship behind closed doors. She could say she didn’t want to chance ruining their freewheeling lifestyle in the house, but she’d done that all on her own. He needed to end things now before she ruined their friendship too.

He pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans—mainly to keep from punching the wall—and headed upstairs. By the time he reached the top and glimpsed Sara shivering in his doorway, wearing a towel and a grimace, his anger had ignited from simmering to full boil.

“Brad,” she said, her already huge eyes widening. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Kim turned unsteadily, and he reached out to grab her elbow while she struggled to balance herself. “Yeah, well, you know how it is when you’re doing the walk of shame. Gotta be quiet.” His smile strained his cheeks. “Didn’t expect there to be a party in my doorway either.”

“Walk of shame? I thought you had to fix Sara’s car.” Kim looked back and forth between them, her dark brows fused together. “And I saw your truck in the drive last night.”

“I borrowed it,” Sara put in, still giving him that pleading look that made him feel like nails lined his throat. “While Brad worked on my car. Right?”

“Sure thing.” He couldn’t believe he was such an idiot. He’d even hummed on his walk to the shop this morning. Boy, he never learned, did he?

“How is it?” Sara asked. “All fixed?”

“Just a dead battery, clogged filter and some corrosion. I took care of it.”

“Thank you so much. What do I owe you?”

Terrific. Now she was going to piss him off by offering to pay for his work on her car, because you know, he needed every spare dime. He was practically indigent compared to the big fancy doc, right?

“Doubt you’ll ever be able to repay me, Sara Smile,” he said in his own equally loud voice. Did Sara think that shouting would add veracity to her story? Kim didn’t look like she was buying it, and he’d be damned if he helped Sara one iota. Not when she’d had the perfect opportunity to be honest, and yet again she’d shafted him without benefit of lube.

He strode up the hall and shifted around her to get into his room. As he squeezed past, he pinched her ass and she jumped. “Might want to get dressed, Doc. You’ll catch another cold.”

As he closed the door in their faces, Kim demanded, “Did he grab your ass?”

“No. Of course not. He, ah, stepped on my foot.”

His gut twisted as he put as much distance between himself and the door as he could. He took out a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt from his dresser and slammed it shut. Seemed like he’d be closing the book on a lot of things today.

He rushed through a shower, his only thought to get the hell out of the house before Sara could corner him. He wasn’t interested in talking to her at the moment. Maybe ever.

It was one thing for her to lie, quite another to make him lie to his own sister. And for what? If she was really that ambivalent about seeing him, he should’ve taken no for an answer the first time he’d broached the subject of wanting her. One-way streets weren’t meant for two drivers.

He went through his morning routine and changed into his standard attire—God forbid a guy not wear a suit to work—then stared at his glowering face in the bathroom mirror. In the mood he was in, he’d punch out the first person who questioned a line item on their bill.

Five deep breaths didn’t help, so he tried ten. It took fifteen for the haze behind his eyes to clear. He’d just reached for the doorknob when the knock came, soft and hesitant.

“Brad, it’s me. Can I come in?”

He yanked open the door so abruptly that she almost fell into his arms. “No, because I’m coming out. I have to get to work.”

She righted herself and shook back her long fall of brown hair. Of course she’d had to leave it down so it swirled over the shoulders of her form-fitting navy blue dress. Blue pumps revealed her pink, polished toes—toes that, even now, he wanted to suck on with all the fleeting conviction of a virgin leaving convent school.

“This won’t take long—”

“Neither will this.” He stepped around her and glanced back at her framed in his doorway. The picture she made would remain in his head forever. So defiant and resolute, with only that hint of a quiver in her shiny lower lip. “You were right.” He forced the words out despite the fist locked around his throat. “I shouldn’t have pushed this. It was a mistake, one we need to rectify.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean us.” He chuckled without humor, shaking his head. “Not that there is an us, but for the sake of argument. We’ll end things here and part as friends while we still can.”

Of all possible reactions, he didn’t expect her to back up as if he’d burned her with his words. “If we could—” She blew out a breath that stirred her perfectly arranged bangs. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

No, he didn’t fucking want this, not any of it. If he’d ever guessed she could be so blasé about them, he never would have laid a hand on her. She’d resisted his advances for a while, but he’d been convinced he could get her to see what was right in front of her.

He’d been wrong.

“Is that what you were coming to tell me?” he asked, unable to let it go that easily.

Her throat moved. “No. But it should’ve been.”

He pushed a hand through his damp hair and vowed to get it cut that afternoon. Maybe he’d shave it all off and tattoo something badass on his scalp. Why not? He didn’t have anyone to answer to but himself.

“All right then. I’m out of here.” He turned away and sneezed, then sneezed again.

“Oh no, did I get you sick?”

“No.” He rubbed his nose and pretended his cheeks weren’t on fire. He’d chalked up his temperature to his overly hot shower, but what did he know? Clearly nada. “See ya.”