When We Touch (2 page)

“To be honest, I thought a bee had gotten into your car and you were under attack.”

“Thanks for the visual. That helps with the embarrassment. But it wasn’t that bad.”

His eyebrows rose above his sunglasses. “It was alarming. But back to your changed wardrobe. I don’t think showing that much skin is the best way to recover.” He scratched his smooth-shaven chin. “I mean…I’d hate to see you wind up with the wrong kind of guy.
Again.
”

“Kyle was the wrong kind of guy?” She was anxious to hear his justification for that statement. The general belief was that
Brandon
was the less reliable of the two. Kyle had attended UC Berkeley on an academic scholarship while getting a degree in electrical engineering. He’d started his own company manufacturing solar panels after that, which was currently making him rich. He was strong, kind, talented.

Maybe he wasn’t
quite
as handsome as his stepbrother, but his attention wasn’t nearly as fleeting, either.

“For you he was
completely
wrong
,” Brandon maintained as if he’d been able to see it all along.

The uncertainty she’d always felt in his presence returned. She’d caught him watching her since that prom. Most of the time he turned away the second she noticed, but occasionally their eyes met and held, and she remembered how badly she’d once wished he’d call. “Who would be better?” she challenged.

Mouth quirking up on one side, he said, “Why don’t you follow me to my place and put yourself back together before you walk into the lion’s den? We can talk about it.”

It was a kind suggestion. One she never would’ve expected—not from him. But she could guess why he was suddenly so helpful. He’d love nothing more than to shove a connection with her in Kyle’s face.

And therein lay the appeal of his offer....

“Do you think your stepbrother will hear about it if I do?” she asked.

He chuckled softly. “We can make sure of it.”

That kind of petty revenge was beneath her. But the idea of turning the tables on Kyle, and by extension Noelle, was tempting. “He’d hate it,” she mused. “Whether he’s marrying my sister or not.” She knew because of that last call, the apology, the crack in his voice when he’d said he’d always love her. The memory of it brought fresh tears to her eyes....

A truck was coming up from behind. To get out of its way, Brandon stepped close enough that she could pick up his scent in the air that blasted into her car as the truck whooshed by. He smelled as good as he looked. But that was no surprise. She recalled dancing with him as a sophomore, pressing her nose into his warm neck in an effort to remember his scent. She’d instinctively known that was the only part of Brandon a girl could safely capture.

“He wouldn’t want you to be with anyone else, but me least of all,” he agreed.

Obviously he liked the idea of upsetting Kyle as much as she did. Problem was…associating with Brandon came with a certain amount of risk. For one, the way she was dressed could be misleading. He might assume she’d changed, become promiscuous, like the girls he usually preferred. And what if she fell into her own trap? Brandon was like a meteor. He burned hot and bright as he crashed through a woman’s orbit, but he left a lot of damage in his wake and nothing, no one, slowed him down. Although some girls welcomed the thrill of trying—he never lacked for female companionship—Olivia was already nursing a broken heart. She had no business being alone with this man, especially while she was on the rebound.

On the other hand, she was tired of trying to turn the other cheek. She was also tired of being so darn careful with her love life. Kyle was supposed to have been a wise choice, a man who wanted to settle down and have a family. And look how well that had turned out. He was having a family, all right.
With her sister.
Noelle was pregnant, hence the rush on the wedding. Her mother wanted Noelle married off before she started to show.

“Are you coming?” Brandon asked when she didn’t answer.

Were they going to be allies? She found that a bit ironic, considering that, after prom, they’d never even been friends. She’d been one of the few who’d understood that wanting Brandon would only end in misery. “If I go to your house, it doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping with you,” she said, taking a stab at his motivation for inviting her.

He jammed his fists into the pockets of his baggy shorts. “Kyle won’t know that.”

Her injured hand was beginning to throb. She should head to her parents’ house, change into something more sensible and make an ice pack. She was supposed to arrive in time for dinner. But if she showed up there in the next few minutes, they’d question her about her red eyes even if she concocted a good excuse for her hand. She couldn’t stand the thought of that, especially if they cornered her in front of Noelle, who would know exactly what was wrong and take great satisfaction in being the cause of it.

“Do you have an ice pack?” she asked, finally letting him see her injury.

He slid his sunglasses down to take a look, and she felt the full effect of those eyes, which were several shades lighter than hazel. “Do
I
have an ice pack?”

“You have a lot of them.” Of course he did. As a professional skier, he probably needed one often.

“Come with me and you’ll feel better in a few minutes. I guarantee it.”

She squinted up at him.
I think that’s what I’m afraid of
, she thought but all she said was, “Thanks.”

Chapter 2

Olivia had never been inside Brandon’s house. Kyle had driven her past it once, when they’d been coming back from a picnic near the old mine. Brandon had been abroad at the time, or they never would’ve taken the chance of running into him. Kyle preferred to have as little contact as possible. Since then, she’d noticed the turnoff that led to his solitary cabin whenever she drove up this way to hike or bike. Brandon had always been a bit of a mystery to her. Or maybe it was just that ever since she’d sat in front of him in Chemistry she’d felt his magnetism as much as any girl. There’d even been a few times over the years when she’d been tempted to swing by his house.

She could understand why he’d like living here, with the peace and quiet and the spectacular view afforded by one wall made entirely of glass. His home reminded her of the Swiss Family Robinson Tree House, probably because it was two stories high and dug out of the mountain—very much a part of nature. As if that wasn’t unusual enough, a telescope held pride of place in the middle of the living room, beneath a giant skylight.

Most people wouldn’t put a telescope in the living room because it would obstruct their view of the television. But Brandon’s TV was in the loft area above. Down here, various geodes and old weapons, artifacts and sculptures lined bookshelves that also contained a surprising array of books, mostly nonfiction. She spotted one on astronomy, another on Buddhism and a third on the history of China.

“
China?”
she murmured while he was in the kitchen, getting her some ice. She’d never taken him for a scholar. Since he made his living as an extreme skier, he was often videotaped plunging down the steepest slopes in the world. She thought he was foolish to risk his life doing a thing like that
once
, let alone again and again, but there appeared to be some fringe benefits to his job besides the high pay and adrenaline rush. Obviously it had taken him to many different countries.

“Are you an art collector?” she called, studying several paintings.

He came into the room carrying the most technically advanced ice pack she’d ever seen. “Not really. I pick up what appeals to me. Most of it’s from unusual places. I love to travel.”

“I can tell.” He was consumed by wanderlust. No wonder he’d never, to her knowledge, become serious about one particular woman. It was tough to maintain a relationship under such circumstances.

“What about you?” he asked.

She pulled her gaze from a photograph of an African woman holding the hand of a child in some faraway jungle she’d probably never see. “I don’t get the opportunity very often.”

Although she’d been planning weddings and other events since she’d graduated from Sac State with a degree in business administration, moving to Sacramento had required she take on some expenses that she’d never had before. Not only was she living on her own for the first time since renting a small house with three other girls in college, she’d leased an office and was paying for advertising in the hope of attracting new clients. The money she’d saved while living with her parents once she’d returned to Whiskey Creek needed to be held in reserve, just in case.

“Would you like to see more of the world if you could?” he asked.

She fingered an elephant carved out of wood. “Absolutely,” she replied, but she wasn’t really considering the possibility. She was too preoccupied wondering how the Brandon suggested by this house could be so different from what she’d taken him to be, which was much more the typical jock.

“I’m planning a backpacking trip across Nicaragua in a few weeks.” He bent to look into her face. “You could come with me.”

The idea of escaping held massive appeal. But she wasn’t sure it was a legitimate offer. Most people didn’t extend invitations like that off the cuff. “You’re going across the entire country?”

“Nicaragua’s not that big.”

“I have a feeling it might seem big if you’re
walking
.”

He smiled. “That’s the best way to see it.”

She didn’t know much about South America. She’d always been more concerned with the geography she navigated right here in California—especially finding the right place to live after leaving Whiskey Creek. “I wish I could,” she said in a throwaway statement that took for granted he hadn’t been serious.

He didn’t press the issue. He motioned to a soft leather couch. “Have a seat. Let’s get this on your hand.”

She was tempted to choose one of the hammocklike chairs that hung from the ceiling instead. They had, no doubt, come from Mexico or some other country and looked comfortable. But, in deference to her injured hand, she decided against getting into something she might have difficulty getting out of.

Once she was settled in, he examined her hand before putting the ice pack on it. “You should get this x-rayed.”

“I couldn’t have broken any bones throwing a tantrum,” she said, but she knew that was denial talking. She just didn’t want to face that she might’ve caused herself some stiff medical bills and the inconvenience of going home in a cast.

“I’m not so sure,” he responded. “If the pain doesn’t go away in the next day or so, definitely have it checked.”

He should know about broken bones. Not long ago, he’d tumbled off a cliff in Switzerland and broken his right leg in three places. They’d replayed the footage of it on the local news over and over. Almost everyone had seen it. As a result of that spill, he’d been on crutches, convalescing for much of the last year she and Kyle were dating. In the past twelve months she’d seen him around town more often than she had in the ten years since prom.

He arranged the ice pack on her hand and headed back to the kitchen.

“Do you ever get lonely out here?” she asked, looking toward the giant window directly across from her. From where she sat, she couldn’t see the water, but she knew the river cut through the ravine below.

“Not really.”

That was a stupid question, she told herself. Why would he get lonely? He could have a woman visit any time he wanted.

“Do you ever get lonely in Sacramento?” he called back.

After living at home with her family since college, and dating Kyle for three of those years—seeing him every day—Sacramento had been a big change. She’d been
more
than lonely; she’d been positively bereft. But no one wanted to hear someone sniveling on and on about a past relationship. Other than that lapse of sanity in her car, she thought she’d managed to absorb the pain without showing how bad she really felt. “I try to keep myself so busy I don’t even have time to think about stuff like that.”

“No wonder you lost your cool.”

His response surprised her. “Excuse me?”

“You haven’t dealt with the blow.”

“I refuse to feel bad about a man who could do what Kyle did. That’s all.”

He reappeared with some painkillers and a glass of water. “Here, take these.”

She swallowed the pills, then eyed him dubiously when he said, “To be honest, I don’t understand why you’re here.”

“You invited me,” she pointed out, purposely misunderstanding.

“You know what I mean.”

With a wince, she adjusted the ice pack. “Everyone’s wondering whether I’ll show up. I felt it was best to come back with my head held high. Not coming would only have confirmed to Kyle and Noelle that I’m still hurt.”

“I admire your courage, but…”

He thought she’d bitten off more than she could chew. That episode in the car proved it. “I won’t break down again.”

“There’s no shame in loving someone, Olivia.”

As if he knew anything about it. She almost said that, but stopped herself. Why be unkind?
He
wasn’t the person who’d wronged her. She knew better than to give him the chance. “There is if that someone is marrying your sister,” she grumbled. “Everyone’s watching me, waiting for the tears to flow.” And he’d actually witnessed them…

His expression softened. “Kyle screwed up.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, even if you are sort of obligated to say that to someone who’s going through what I am.”

He didn’t try to convince her he’d meant it more honestly. “Just because you’re in town doesn’t mean you have to stay,” he said. “I’m the only one who’s seen you.”

“You’re suggesting I leave? Miss the wedding? She’s my sister.”

“That goes both ways. Most people would say she had no business hooking up with your boyfriend.”

The fact that Kyle had been her boyfriend made him that much more desirable for Noelle. It was a strange but undeniable dynamic. Noelle had always coveted what she had. “What good would it do to nurse my resentment? To tear my family apart?” she asked. “Besides, I
have
to attend the wedding. I’m planning it.”