Playing with Dynamite (12 page)

She pulled him first this way, then that until their skin began to prune and Lisa finally realized they might have stayed too long at the fair.

She squinted her eyes at the sun. It wasn't quite as bright as it had been, she thought. It wasn't quite as warm either. She had no idea what time it was. She felt as if she'd barely been there an hour, but she had the sinking suspicion it had been far longer. A sliver of panic raced through her. “Brick.” His face was in the water, so she nudged him to get his attention. “How long have we been out here?”

Brick shook the water from his hair and shrugged. “I left my watch on the boat.”

He seemed incredibly calm, she noticed. “I think we'd better find out. The ship is supposed to leave at four and—”

“Hey, Johnny, what time is it?” Brick called to their guide.

The dark man held up four fingers on one hand and five on the other hand.

Lisa's heart sank. “Oh no! He must mean four-thirty. We've missed the cruise ship. What are we going to do? That's how we're supposed to get to Miami, and my flight home leaves tomorrow afternoon. Oh, I can't believe I did this. I feel so stupid, but snorkeling was such fun and—”

“Hold it. Hold it.” Brick cut off her desperate monologue and pulled her toward the boat. “It's not as if we're destitute. Let's get back to the boat and figure out what to do. Johnny can probably help us out.”

“I still can't believe I did this,” she repeated for the next hour. Fighting a pang of guilt, she wondered if she'd subconsciously been trying to avoid returning to the ship. She was still shuddering from being called filly.

With Brick's reassurance and Johnny's hotel recommendation, Lisa's panic subsided. They arranged for their rooms, and while Brick booked flights for Miami for the following day, Lisa bought a sundress, underwear and a few toiletries to tide her over.

When she finished her shower and changed, it was time for dinner. They ate lobster on the hotel restaurant veranda and watched the sun set over the Caribbean. It was a romantic setting, made even more romantic for Lisa because Brick was there to share it with her. Despite all her attempts to make herself feel differently, she couldn't change that. Something about the way he watched her, however, made her nervous.

He exuded a tension that had her wondering what was going on behind his violet eyes. She felt off center, as if something had changed, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. She'd wondered if he would try to manipulate her into sharing his room, but he hadn't. Now she was dealing with a crazy mix of disappointment and relief. That was the problem with her when she was around Brick. He turned her priorities upside down, so that she didn't know whether she was coming or going, and when she was with him, she didn't really care. Sighing, she toyed with her dessert. “You've gotten quiet. Are you tired?”

He shook his head. “I've got something on my mind.” He watched her for a moment, then lowered his voice. “Do you want to mutilate that pie some more, or would you like to take a walk on the beach?”

She immediately put down her fork and placed her napkin beside her plate. “Definitely the beach.”

Within minutes, they were walking on the white sand. “This is wonderful,” Lisa murmured, loving the feel of the breeze on her skin. “Do you think they could use a catering director down here?”

Brick slid his hand to her back. “Probably, but Chattanooga would miss you too much.” He stopped and tilted her chin so that she would look at him. “I'd miss you too much.”

Lisa's chest contracted. She took a shallow breath and shook her head. “You make it very hard for me to put you in the past and get on with my life,” she whispered.

His gaze turned stormy. “I don't want you to put me in the past. I want to be in your future. I want—” He swore and turned away.

“Brick, what—?”

He sliced a hand through the air for her to wait.

She did, watching him curiously as he shoved his hands into his pockets and stared into the horizon. His white shirt billowed like a sail, contrasting with his tanned throat. Even though she felt confused and a little forlorn, his silhouette, strong and tender, affected her.

He was the man she would always want. The realization hit her so hard, it hurt. She would never love another. She wrapped her arms around herself as the chill of a second realization hit her. She might never marry and have the family she wanted either.

A terrible pain shot through her. She bit her lip against the burning sensation behind her eyes and wondered why it had to be this way.

Brick finally turned around, his gaze resolute yet uneasy. “I want you to marry me.”

Speechless, Lisa stared at him in shock.

Brick's mouth was bone-dry and his stomach was churning so much, he prayed he wouldn't lose his dinner. He took a few deep breaths, then reached for the antacids in his pocket. “You haven't said anything,” he muttered in a raspy voice he hated.

Lisa blinked and shook her head. “You look as if you're going to throw up.”

Brick scowled and popped a tablet into his mouth. “That's a helluva thing to say to a man who's just proposed to you.”

Lisa bit her lip and moved closer to him. She squinted her eyes. “Brick, your face looks
green.
”

“It is not!” Brick laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles in frustration. “I don't care if I'm purple or polka-dotted. Do you want to marry me or not?”

A long silence followed where Lisa looked at him warily. She cleared her throat. “Well,” she began, drawing out the word.

“Well what?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Well…yes,” she said, her voice full of doubt. “I guess,” she added. “But you don't sound very happy about it.”

Brick felt the tight, clenched feeling in his chest burst free. “Ah, Lisa.” He pulled her into his arms. “I'm so damn happy, I don't think I can explain it.” And he couldn't, he realized. Not yet. He'd felt the fear and done it anyway, but he wasn't ready to push himself further by explaining everything to her. Right now, she was in his arms and she'd said yes. Right now, he wanted to celebrate. He held her close and inhaled the scent of her hair. It was enough to make him feel high.

“Let's get some champagne and take it up to my room. Or your room.” He speared his fingers through her hair and lifted her mouth to his for a kiss. She tasted of sensuality and sweetness and everything he'd always craved in his life. The way she curled into him sent his heart rate flying.

Finally dragging his mouth from hers, he tried to catch his breath. “I've always been better at showing than telling, Lisa. Let me show you how happy I am.”

Looking dazed and fragile, Lisa closed her eyes. “I can't believe this is happening. Are you sure?”

She opened her eyes and her gaze searched his. “Are you really, really sure?”

Her fragility and uncertainty was so precious to him that he fully intended to rid her of all her doubts. “I'm really sure.” And down underneath all his lifetime of fear, he was.

 

Brick lifted the glass of champagne. “To your eyes.” He took a sip, placed it on the bedside table, then leaned forward and kissed her eyelids when she fluttered them closed. Lisa had sipped down a glass and a half of champagne and was deliciously dizzy.

“To your nose,” he added, and kissed her nose.

Lisa rolled her eyes in disbelief. “My nose?”

“Are you questioning my sincerity?” he asked in a pseudostern voice.

“I—”

“To your mouth,” he interrupted, and covered her mouth with his. Lisa sighed. Her niggling sense of uneasiness seemed to evaporate when his tongue dallied with hers. She gave herself over to the sensation of his mouth making love to hers. She gave herself over to the dream that had finally come true. She felt the gentle tug of his hands on her sundress and held her breath.

Brick pulled slightly away, his eyes heavy with sensuality. “I'm not finished with your mouth.”

Lisa licked her lips, relishing his taste. “Good.”

Brick groaned and pushed the dress from her body. His gaze traveled down her neck to linger on her breasts and trail a burning path down to her belly. Lisa felt a spinning sensation in her stomach.

As if he were working at keeping things slow, he lifted his gaze back to her face. “To your eyebrows,” he said, and kissed them.

A giggle burst from her throat.

“You're not supposed to be laughing,” he told her.

“Sorry,” she said, but giggled again when he kissed her chin.

Brick gave a long-suffering sigh and lowered his mouth to nuzzle her throat. “To pot holders,” he whispered.

Lisa's heart clutched, the desire to laugh quickly snuffed out.

He lowered his head still farther to the upper swell of her breasts. “To your aunt's afghan.”

Homing in on her nipple, he drew it deeply into his mouth. Lisa felt the tug all the way to her womb.

He swirled his tongue around the sensitive peak, and she arched. “To rings and babies and Christmases together.” He looked up at her, and Lisa knew this moment would be branded in her brain forever. Brick, his eyes full of love and desire, his hair mussed from her fingers, his shirt unbuttoned and pushed halfway down his arms. Promises and pleasure on his mouth. She lifted her hand to his jaw.

Brick closed his eyes and kissed her palm. “Always together.”

Then he gently pushed her down on the bed and worked on showing instead of telling. Their clothes seemed to disappear, and then it was the brush of his skin against hers. The feeling of intimacy between them was a life force in itself.

Whispering love words into her ear, he touched her as if she were spun gold. And she could almost believe he thought she was. She smothered a gasp when he skimmed his mouth across her abdomen and down to her thigh. Her skin was sensitized to his every breath.

He stroked and kissed her breasts until she was beyond restless, and Lisa found she couldn't be only the receiver, she had to be the giver too. When she tried to nudge him onto his back, he protested.

“No,” he muttered, his hands drawn to her like magnets. “I'm not finished. I want to—”

Lisa pressed an openmouthed kiss against his neck, and he broke off on a sigh. “I want to too,” she said, rubbing her face into the soft hair of his hard chest.

Taking her turn to show tactile appreciation of every inch of his body, Lisa stroked and caressed, drawing rough sounds of pleasure from his mouth. The pounding of his heart thrummed its way into her blood, making her lose all her inhibitions. Her lips followed her hands to the sensitive places of his body, behind his ear and down to his nipples. She kissed her way across his lower abdomen and gave a husky laugh when his stomach rippled.

She went from sensual amusement to serious, however, when she kissed his rigid arousal.

Brick swore and slipped his fingers through her hair. “Oh, Lord, Lisa…”

His arousal spurring hers, she took him into her mouth.

He swore again, a litany of desire and male need that she was desperate to fulfill.

“Lisa, stop!” he managed over a wild gasp, then let out a low animal-like groan when she slowly slid her mouth from him.

Her body liquid with readiness, Lisa stared up at him. His eyes glittered with passion, his mouth swollen from kisses, he turned her deliberately onto her back. Her uneven breaths matched his; his body was slick with perspiration, as was hers. At her most basic and emotional level, she welcomed the purely male urge to mate she saw stamped on his features.

When she reached for him, he shook his head and drew her arms above her head, his fingers gently clasping her wrists. His hot gaze swept over her like a flash fire, and when he slid his fingers between her thighs, the delicious, slow-building desire she felt burst out of control.

Struggling with the ache he seemed to make worse and better at the same time, she arched up from the bed. “Brick,” she said with a gasp. “I need—” She moaned as he slid his finger inside her. “Oh, I want—” She arched again. “Brick, pleeeeease!”

“That's what I want to do, Lisa.” He nudged her thighs apart and entered her inch by excruciating inch. Hissing through his teeth, he grimaced in pleasure. “That's what I want to do,” he muttered, and stretched inside her. “Please.”

He released her wrists and she immediately reached for him, pulling him as close as possible while his slow, steady thrusts took her farther from sanity with each stroke. As if from a distance, she heard herself call out his name while a spasm of exquisite pleasure shook her, pitching her up and over. And with an exultant cry of his own, Brick came tumbling after.

 

Brick and Lisa overslept the next morning and nearly missed their plane to Miami. The quick flight could have been a taxi ride considering how long it lasted. After making sure their luggage had been transferred by the cruise line, they settled in for the flight to Chattanooga.

Lisa laced her fingers through Brick's during takeoff.

He squeezed her hand. “Does flying bother you?”

She gave a wry smile. “Just takeoff and landing. I guess there's not much that can scare someone who works with explosives for a living.”

Brick narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn't say that,” he said in a dry, self-deprecating tone.

She looked at him curiously.

“I'll tell you about it some other time.”

He didn't sound as if he were looking forward to it, she thought, but tried to shake off the uneasiness that made her nerve endings bristle. “Have you thought about when you want us to announce it?”

“Announce what?”

“Our engagement.”

“Oh.” Brick glanced away and shook his head. “I hadn't really thought about it. I figured we would decide all that later.”

“Well, since we've got an hour-and-a-half flight ahead of us, there's no time like the present.”

“Now?” he asked, consternation leaking through his tone while he took in her bright gaze.

Lisa hesitated, a furrow of confusion forming between her brows. “You don't want to discuss it?”

“No, no. It's fine,” Brick rushed to reassure her, and shifted in his seat. His stomach began to burn. He released Lisa's hand and smoothed his own hand over his slacks. The prospect of an entire flight spent discussing wedding plans loomed before him. It was enough to make his palms sweat. He counted to twenty-five and took a deep breath.

Lisa pushed her hair behind her ear, then placed her hand on his arm. It was an affectionate gesture that warmed Brick's heart.

“There are a lot of things to decide, like where we want to live, when to get married and how big a wedding we should have,” she said. “But I guess we should decide if we want to tell people or wait a little while.”

When she looked at him with such love in her eyes, he was ready to marry her on the spot. Maybe that was part of the solution to his problem, he thought, staying focused on her and how much she meant to him instead of the bad memories from his father's second marriage. Feeling a surge of devotion, he leaned closer and kissed her. “I don't want to wait. I think we've both waited long enough.”

Visibly moved, Lisa gave a tremulous smile. “You have no idea how happy you've made me,” she whispered.

Brick tried to hold on to that safe, yet glorious feeling for the rest of the flight, but sometimes the fear came back. Perhaps not as strong as it once was, but it still returned. It required a great deal of concentration for him to hide those moments from Lisa. He chewed his antacids and used some of the coping techniques. By the time the plane taxied up to the gate, he was relieved and exhausted.

Sensing that something wasn't quite right, Lisa felt her uneasiness climb. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Fine. I'm great,” he said, crunching through another tablet.

Lisa frowned. The man she loved had finally proposed to her, but she couldn't tell if he felt trapped or happy. This wasn't a good sign, and she refused to push him into something he didn't want. Her chest felt achy at the thought that Brick might be doing this because
she
wanted it and he didn't. Pushing past her own unsteady emotions, she lowered her voice. “Brick, you don't sound completely sure about this. Do you regret proposing to me last night? If you do, then I'd rather you go ahead and say so now.”

“I don't regret it. I absolutely don't regret it. It's just—” His glance slid away and he swore softly.

Lisa felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. She should have known it was too good to be true. The whole flight he'd been running hot and cold on her. “It's just what?” she said, feeling her stomach twist with dread.

He glanced around in frustration. “I can't talk about it now.”

Disappointment and uncertainty hit her full force, delivering a knockout punch. After the beautiful night they'd shared together, she couldn't handle the flux of her own feelings, let alone his, anymore. Her heart splintered into fragments. Heedless of the fact that the crew hadn't given the passengers instructions for departing the airplane, she stood and scrambled past Brick.

“What are you doing?” He tried to grab her hand, but she shook it loose.

“I need to get out of here,” she muttered desperately, hurrying down the aisle.

The attendant shot her a look of disapproval. “Miss, we haven't given passengers clearance. You—”

“I feel sick,” Lisa managed over a swollen throat, and she wasn't lying. She was sick with a heart-crushing disappointment. Emotionally, she felt wounded and bleeding, and she needed to get away from everything and everyone, especially Brick. Hearing his footsteps behind her, she pleaded with the stewardess, “Please let me go.”

The attendant immediately allowed her to exit, and Lisa ran through the terminal. Swiping at the tears that streamed down her face, she didn't care that people were staring. She didn't care that Brick was calling after her. She hoped she'd find a way to survive this debacle. Feeling like a fool was easy compared to dealing with her incredible pain and disillusionment.

 

Brick was alternately cursing the crowds and himself as he chased after Lisa. He should have gone ahead and told her everything the night before. Instead his ego had gotten in the way and he'd hoped he could keep it from her until he didn't feel so self-conscious about it. From a distance, he saw her squeeze through the door to the parking lot.

He darted around two elderly people and made it to the same door. Shoving it open, he scanned the parking lot. She was opening her car door. “Lisa,” he shouted.