Borrowed Dreams (Debbie Macomber Classics) (8 page)

“What do you mean?” She raised her head, barely managing to keep her voice even and
smooth. Moistening her lips was an involuntary action that drew Brand’s attention. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her; it was written in his eyes. He knotted his hands, and Carly recognized the strength of the attraction that pulsed between them. The knowledge should have given her a feeling of power, but instead it upset her. As much as possible she hoped to ignore the attraction between them.

“We went to the art show and it was obvious something was troubling you,” Brand said, studying her closely. “I wanted you to tell me what it was, but you made me ask. I don’t remember your exact words, but the message was clear. There was nothing wrong.” His voice became heavy with sarcasm. “Well, Carly, that was a lie. There
was
something wrong then, just as there’s something the matter now. I have a right to know.”

Carly pressed her lips firmly together. She tried to hide her feelings but found it impossible. In the past she’d gone out of her way to anger him whenever he got too close. Brand inhaled a steadying breath as his hands settled to either side of her neck and he pulled her toward him. “I won’t let you do it, Carly. I’m not going to fight with you. Not when you’ve wiggled your way into my every waking thought for the past week.”

Pride demanded that she turn away, but Brand’s hold tightened, his fingers bringing her so close she could feel his warm breath against her face. A battle warred in her thoughts. She cursed herself for craving the comfort of his arms, and in the same breath, she reached for him. Not smiling. Not speaking.

Needing was something new to her, and Carly didn’t like to admit to any weakness.

Brand’s arms slipped around her waist as he drew her into his embrace. The only sound in the room was the radio, playing a low and seductive melody from the far corner.

He didn’t try to kiss her, although she was sure that had been his original intention. Apparently he realized she needed emotional comfort at that moment. While he might want to kiss her, he restrained himself. Carly was grateful. Her defenses were low. His hand cupped the side of her face, pinning her ear against his heart. She could hear the uneven thud of his pulse. It felt so incredibly good to be in his arms and comforted. She felt secure and at peace. Good to be with him … bad for her emotionally, for fear she might come to depend on him …

Confused, Carly didn’t know what to think anymore. All she knew was that she was too weak to break away.

“I thought you offered to feed me,” Brand said after a long, drawn-out moment, his voice
husky.

“Are sandwiches all right?” She turned and brought out the tray of deli meats and the jar of green olives, setting them on the counter. A loaf of bread followed, along with a jar of mayonnaise and another of mustard.

“Fine. I could eat a”—he paused as he surveyed the contents of the plate—“pastrami, turkey, beef, and green olive sandwich any day.”

“There are store-bought cupcakes for dessert.”

“Fine by me,” Brand replied absently, as he built a sandwich so thick Carly doubted that it would fit into his mouth.

After constructing her own, she joined Brand at the kitchen table. “I guess I should have warned you that my cooking skills are somewhat limited.” She popped an olive into her mouth.

“Don’t apologize.”

“I’m not. I’m just explaining that you’ll have to take me as I am. Fixing a meal that requires a fork is almost beyond my capabilities.”

Chuckling, he lifted his napkin and dabbed a spot of mustard from the corner of his mouth. “Do you think there’s any chance that Jutta will change her mind and sell the painting?”

The letter was on the table and Brand couldn’t help but notice it. Carly took it out of the envelope and handed it to him to read. “I don’t think she’ll sell, but I don’t blame her. She’d like me to ask her about some of her other work.”

“What do you plan to do?” Brand pushed his empty plate aside and reached over and took an olive from hers.

She slapped the back of his hand lightly and twisted to reach for the jar on the counter. “Take your own, bub,” she rebuked him with a teasing grin.

Brand emptied several more onto his plate and replaced the one he’d taken of hers. “Well?” He raised questioning eyes to hers.

“I think I’ll write her again. Even if she won’t sell the portrait, I’d like to get to know her. Whoever Jutta Hoverson is or whatever she’s done doesn’t bother me. It’s obvious the two of us have a lot in common.”

Brand didn’t respond directly; instead, his gaze slid to the bouquet of carnations she’d flippantly tossed on the countertop. His expression was gentle, almost tender. “You’d better put those in water.”

Carly’s gaze rested on the pink and white carnations, and she released her breath. “You should take the flowers home with you.”

“Why?” He regarded her closely, his expression grim.

“I thought you were paying off Sandra’s medical bills.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“We’re friends, remember?” Her voice was low. “Flowers are something you’d bring to impress a date. You don’t need to impress me, St. Clair. I’m a friend. I don’t ever plan to be anything more.”

Brand sat still and quiet, and although he didn’t speak, Carly could feel his irritation. “I wasn’t trying to impress you.” His voice was deep. “My intention was more to cheer you up, but I can see that I failed.” Silence filled the room as Brand stood, carried his empty plate to the sink, and, without a word, opened the cupboard beneath her sink and tossed the flowers into the garbage. His expression was weary as he turned back to face her.

“Brand,” Carly tried. She hadn’t expected him to react in such a disgruntled way.

He ignored her as he headed toward the front door. “Thanks for the sandwich,” he said before the door closed behind him. The sound vibrated off the walls and wrapped its way around Carly’s throat.

*  *  *

An hour later, Carly had written a reply to Jutta Hoverson. The second letter was easier to write than the first. Again she mentioned how much she’d enjoyed Jutta’s work, and she recounted the time she’d visited the Seattle Art Museum in Volunteer Park. She told Jutta that she didn’t appreciate the abstract creations, but a friend told her that they supposedly had a lot more meaning than met the eye. Rereading that part of the letter caused Carly to smile. Of course, the friend had been Diana, and the comment was typical of Diana’s sense of humor.

Carly closed the letter by asking Jutta to send more information about her other paintings. As she took a stamp from the kitchen drawer, she caught sight of a single carnation that had remained on top of the counter next to the sink. She paused with the stamp raised halfway to her tongue. The carnation looked forlorn and dejected. Feeling bad about the way she’d treated Brand, she opened the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled the bouquet from the can. She
gently brushed the coffee grounds from the pink and white petals. Having no vase, Carly placed them in the center of the table in the empty olive jar, which served admirably as a holder.

She regretted what she’d said to him. There were better ways of expressing her feelings. But hindsight was twenty-twenty. That was another of Diana’s favorite witticisms. Dear heaven, how she missed her friend.

After a restless evening in which her mind refused to concentrate on any project, Carly realized that she wouldn’t feel right about anything until she’d apologized. Humble pie had never been her specialty, but, as she recalled, though the initial bite was bitter, the aftertaste was generally sweet. At least she’d be able to go on with the rest of her day. And the sooner the apology was made, the better. To take the easy way out and phone him tempted her, but Carly resisted. Instead, she donned a thick cable-knit sweater and drove the distance to Brand’s apartment.

*  *  *

Her knock on his door was loud and hard. She waited long enough to wonder if he was home. His truck was outside, but that didn’t mean much. She finally heard movement inside the apartment and placed a pink carnation between her teeth before the door was opened. “Peace?” she offered.

“Carly.” He frowned, as if she was the last person he expected to see. His expression clouded before he said, “Come in.”

Carly removed the flower and attempted to spit out the taste of the stem and leaves as she moved inside. “Well?” she questioned.

Brand moved a hand over his face, as if he thought she might be an apparition. “Well, what?”

“Am I forgiven for my cavalier attitude?”

He looked at her blankly, as if he still didn’t understand what she was asking. “You mean about the flowers?”

Carly tipped her head to one side. Brand had obviously been asleep and she’d woken him. Things were quickly going from bad to worse. “I’m sorry, I … I didn’t know you were in bed.”

“Care to join me?” Brand teased softly, and pulled her into his arms. He inhaled, as if to take in the fresh scent of her. “It’s been a long time since I had someone warm to cuddle.”

Carly tried to remain stiff, but the instant she was in his arms, she melted against him. He smiled down on her, and his finger traced the smooth line of her jaw. His touch had the power to weaken her resolve. This was bad, and it was getting worse. To complicate matters even more, Brand could see exactly how she felt.

He chuckled softly, and his breath tingled the side of her neck as he leaned forward to nuzzle the curve between her neck and shoulder. “Why don’t you put on some coffee while I grab a shirt and shoes?” He reluctantly moved away.

Carly released a sigh of relief when he left her. Not knowing what to do with herself, she wandered into his kitchen. Her back was to Brand when he entered the room a few moments later. “My coming today was a gesture of friendship,” she began, and smiled tightly as she turned to face him. “I felt bad about what happened at my place. My attitude was all wrong. You were being kind and I …”

“Friendship.” Brand repeated the word as if he found it distasteful. “I think it’s time you woke up to the fact that what I feel for you goes far beyond being pals.”

“But you agreed …” Carly was having difficulty finding her tongue. “We aren’t even dating.”

The coffee was perking furiously behind her, and Brand brought down two mugs and filled them before carrying both to the table. “We aren’t going to argue about it. If you want to ignore the plain and simple truth, that’s up to you.”

The arrogance of the man was too much. “You think I’m going to fall in love with you?” she asked incredulously.

Brand blew into the side of the ceramic cup before taking a tentative sip. “If you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit you’re halfway there already.”

Carly slapped one thigh and snickered softly. “I don’t think you’re fully awake. You’re living in a dream world, fellow.”

Brand shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I know so.” Carly sat across from him and cupped the mug with both hands, letting the warmth chase the chill from her blood. “In fact, if that’s your attitude, maybe it’d be better if we didn’t see each other again. Not at all.”

Brand shrugged, giving the impression that either way was fine with him. “Maybe.”

Carly laid the palms of both hands on top of the table and half raised herself out of her chair. “Would you please stop it?”

Brand tossed her a look of innocence. “I told you I wasn’t going to argue with you, Carly. That’s exactly what you want, and I refuse to play that game. Anytime you feel someone getting too close, you do whatever it takes to push them away. It took me a while to realize it, but now that I do, I’m not going to let you do it with me.”

“You’re so wrong,” she insisted.

“Am I?” he challenged.

“Okay, whatever. I don’t want to fight.” She could see it would be a losing battle, and she was a poor loser.

“But fighting is what you do best, isn’t it?” he asked. Closing her eyes, Carly clenched her teeth and groaned. “You know, I’m beginning to think that the rocks in my head would fill the holes in yours.”

Brand laughed and reached across the table to take her hand and raise it to his lips, but Carly pulled it free.

Undeterred, Brand continued, “Why don’t you come over here and put your arms around my neck and kiss me the way you’ve wanted to do from the moment you walked in the door?”

Stunned, Carly nearly dropped her mug. It thumped against the table, and hot coffee sloshed over the sides. She jumped up to get a rag to catch the liquid before it flowed onto the floor. The color drained from her face as she sopped up the mess. She
had
wanted to kiss him. In the back of her mind, she had formed a picture of her apology being followed by Brand kissing her senseless. Carly closed her eyes and exhaled sharply.

The sound of Brand pushing back his chair filled her with dread. She nearly panicked with the need to escape.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He spoke softly as his hand caught her shoulder and turned her into his arms.

“Brand, I don’t think this is a good idea,” she pleaded, and then swallowed to control the husky tremor in her voice. “I have to go … there’s something—”

She wasn’t allowed to finish as his mouth swooped down on hers. Her lips parted, whether to protest or welcome him she couldn’t tell. Her response had an immediate effect on
him. All gentleness left him and his hold tightened as he hungrily devoured her mouth. His hand at the back of her neck increased its pressure, lifting Carly onto the tips of her toes.

If she’d been confused before, it was nothing compared to the deluge of sensations that rocked her now. Her knees went weak. Nothing made sense as she surrendered to her swirling desire. Her tongue outlined Brand’s mouth and he groaned. He broke off the kiss long enough to move with her to the chair and pull her into a sitting position on his lap.

Their eyes locked, and words became unnecessary as he wrapped his hands in her dark hair, directing her mouth back to his. She felt his hunger as his mouth reclaimed hers. Together they strained to satisfy each other. When she felt she could endure no more, she broke away and buried her face in the curve of his neck.