The Other Brooks Boy (Texas Wildfire Series) (6 page)

"It
is?"

"It
is," he answered and shucked his shirt.

She wondered if
he could tell the effect it had on her to see him bare-chested. She wondered,
but couldn't have spoken if she'd had to. Her breath was pent up in her chest, and
she feared if she let loose, it would come out in a rebel war cry or something
equally appalling.

Dear Lord, he
was gorgeous. Trim and ripped, and he had the perfect pattern of hair on his
chest. She was rather particular about that, she was willing to admit. And not
many men measured up. But this one did, Lord help her. This one did very well,
indeed, with a medium thick sprinkling of black hair across his
pecs
and a nicely thinned stream of it marching right down
into the slack waist band of those magic memory jeans she had fallen quite in
lust with this afternoon.

He leaned to one
side to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, then to the other side to
retrieve his cell phone. He pitched them both to the grass growing out a ways
from the pool's edge, and then he simply disappeared over the edge and under
the water.

He resurfaced
while she watched from the side of the pool. "Oh, man, this feels
great."

"Cooling
you off?" she asked, and wondered if she shouldn't do a bit of cooling off
herself. She was entirely too aware of him.

"Yeah, it
is. Why don't you come on in?" He swam to the far side and back.

She didn't
answer, too strung out and disturbed by her desire for him. How was she
supposed to deal with this sudden change in this very important relationship in
her life and in the lives of her children? It was overwhelming as she sat there
and thought about it.

"Hey,
where'd you go, Sunshine?" he asked, swimming nearer.

"I'm
here."

He reached for her
feet dangling in the water and pulled each one up out of the water for
inspection. "Just checking to see if you still have bling on your
toes," he said.

"Yeah,
they're still
blingified
."

"And you're
way too quiet," he said, pulling on her ankles and nearly unseating her.

"Stop,
before you pull me in," she fussed, trying to get purchase on the tiled
pool edge with her hands, but she couldn't help laughing.

"And what
would be wrong with that?"

"I have my
cell phone in my pocket," she said. "Stop, Gregory."

"Better
pitch it aside, Caroline," he warned. "I feel you have a good chance
of getting very wet, very soon."

"No,
sir," she said, using her momma voice and attempting to free her ankles
from his grasp.

"Shall I
give you a countdown?" He grinned like a lecher and pulled her butt a
little farther off the tile. "Three ... two  ... "

She scrambled to
pull the cell phone from her pocket and pitch it clear of the pool surround.

"One!"
he shouted, and pulled her completely off the ledge. Under the water she went
as it was a little over her head at this point, but she had to admit that it
did feel great. She admitted it to herself, anyway. She wasn't about to admit
it to him.

"You are a
bully," she said, coming up and swiping the wet hair back from her face.

"Probably
so," he said, laughing at her still. "But I had to lighten you up.
You'd gone all weird on me."

She wiped water
from her eyes and frowned deeply. "This
is
weird, Greg," she
said, tired of not being real with him. They had always been real with one another.
Especially since Jason died.

"What's
weird, Cara?"

"This,
Greg." She turned to face him. "It's not normal for us to be swimming
out here alone after dark."  She knew it didn't come close to
communicating exactly how bizarre things really were in her mind, but if she
revealed that, their relationship would never be the same. She moved to more
shallow water, needing a little distance from his half-naked body.

He followed.
"What's the big deal? We're swimming. It was hot and we went
swimming." He splayed his arms wide, and she had to close her eyes to keep
from ogling his chest and those muscled arms.

"The whole
thing is weird. I'm a mess about it, Greg. And I have been since that kiss we
shared ten days ago." She actually covered her face, feeling overwhelmed
and right on the verge of spilling her guts about how badly she wanted him.

"What? That
little ... nothing?" he finally managed to say. He was trying so hard to
make things feel normal, but Cara feared she wasn't ever going to feel normal
again.

He pulled her
hands away from her face and bent down to look into her eyes. "It was
nothing
,
Cara. We go on, just like before. Look, we've ridden today and had dinner
together. Perfectly normal."

She said
nothing, but knew that he could plainly see he wasn't convincing her.

He moved his
hands to her wrists, circling each one loosely, but tugging on her to keep her
attention focused. "Cara, trust me, darlin'. It was nothing."

"How can
you say that? It felt like something to me, and I'm confused as hell," she
said, her voice sounding weak and troubled to her own ears.

"Oh,
Sunshine ... don't be confused." He let go of one wrist and pushed a lose
hank of wet hair behind her left ear tenderly. Like a lover would. It plain ...
messed ... her ... up
. And it was all she could do not to turn her face
into his palm lingering there and kiss it.

"It felt
like something to me," she said in a very quiet voice. "How can I not
be confused?"

He came closer,
his voice deepening, drawing her entire focus on him. Just him.

"Because,
Caroline ... had I really intended to have kissed you, it would have been more
like this."

Then he did kiss
her. And the difference was like night and day. This one. Lord, this one rocked
her soul. His mouth covered hers in a perfect pairing of lips, his tongue
sliding across her partially open lips until she opened to him. And he tasted
her, dipping his tongue to swirl luxuriously against hers, his lips gliding on
hers, so warm, so soft, but so in control. Mastering her mouth. And she kissed
him back for all she was worth.

His hands came
up to frame her face, and he angled her head to seal their mouths more
completely, his tongue continuing to plunder her in a way that made her think of
other parts of them sliding and gliding and, oh, God ... it was so good to
finally be in his arms and pressed up against him like she'd thought about and
wanted to be for the last few days. She wanted to explore him, absorb him, and
she felt a rush of trembling, powerful desire move through her and threaten to
take control of her will.

But what the
hell
were they doing? Where could this possibly go?

She pushed on
his chest and broke the kiss, though it damn near killed her to do so.

"Wait,
Greg," she said breathlessly.

"Oh, Cara
... really?" he asked, agonized. "Because I've been wanting to do
this for a long time. Are you sure you want me to stop?" he asked, his
deep rumbling voice a warm caress on her ear. He gathered the hair away from
her neck and began kissing his way down to her collarbone.

Suddenly,
stopping sounded like a hollow idea, far overrated. He bit her gently and
suckled on the sensitive skin below her ear, and Cara's hands reached out to
find the belt loops on those beautiful jeans, and she pulled him to her until
they meshed at chest and hip, and their legs got all tangled up in the other's.
He moaned, and she couldn't have cared less if the entire neighborhood showed
up and sold tickets for the show.

"Should I
stop?" he asked, his mouth hovering over hers, a gentleman even in
seduction.

She shook her
head infinitesimally, then raised her chin to close the distance between them,
and they kissed again, deeper, richer, more portentous than before. It was so
very good to be in his arms, to hold and be held and treated as a treasure.
She'd needed it for so long now. It reached somewhere deep within her and
touched her woman's heart, the one that had been so betrayed and broken by
events in the past. Piercing and sweet, it hurt as it opened the wound. She
felt a sob climbing up her throat and broke away again just in time to release
it.

He bent to look
in her face, lifting it so he might find the truth. "Are you crying?"
He pulled her head to his chest and cradled her there fiercely. "Oh, God,
Cara ... don't cry." He rocked her gently against his body. "I'm
sorry."

"Don't
be," was all she could manage at the moment.

She could hear
his heart thundering in his chest as he held her there so tenderly, and she
wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing comfort from him, her rock, her
friend, advisor, handyman, confidant. Did she dare take the chance of losing
all that to become his lover? It frightened her until she could hardly breathe.
And yet, as she stood there molded to his body, her face on his chest, his
strong arms engulfing her, she wanted him like she'd never wanted before.

"I'm sorry
I've confused you," he said softly. "Hell, I've confused
myself." His hands came back to frame her face, and he raised her face,
forcing her to look into his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Cara. Forgive me."
He kissed her forehead sweetly, lingering for a moment longer, then he pulled
away, and got out of the pool.

She stood there,
fully clothed, waist deep in water, heart deep in misery, and listened to him
crank the bike and drive away. And she had no idea what to make of any of it.

It was a
prescription for sleeplessness, this soreness of heart mixed with a thrumming
dose of desire. And it kept her up pretty much the whole of the night. She
prowled the house, wandering from room to room in search of who knew what until
restlessness consumed her. She had to do something with the tension and strife
in her mind and body.

As the first
pink edges of dawn crept up on the eastern horizon, Cara unlocked the door to
the studio, killed the alarm, locked the door behind herself and flipped on the
sound system. In seconds the walls were trembling with hard rock anthems at
unhealthy decibels, and Cara put her body through a dance workout the likes of
which she hadn't experienced in years. Improvised and impromptu, she danced
until sweat poured from every inch of her skin and she began to feel released
from the demons that had held her captive for days. And still she danced.
Muscles burned and joints ached with the exertion, but it felt a purgative of
sorts for the stress, and confusion, and unmet need that had kept her up all
night.

When the
playlist finished, there was nothing but ringing silence filling the studio,
and Cara slumped to the floor in exhaustion. Breathing was all she had energy
left for, and she pressed her burning face against the cool wood of the studio
floor for relief.

"We havin'
some kinda
Flashdance
revival all up in here?"
Etta asked from the doorway, nearly scaring Cara half out of her skin. If she
hadn't been so exhausted, she might have thrown something at her friend for the
fright. As it was, she could only lay there and breathe, utterly spent. She
raised one hand in a small gesture of acknowledgment, then let it fall back to
the floor listlessly.

"All
righty
, then. I can see you might need a moment. I'm in the
office when you get ready to talk, sister," Etta said, and turned to
leave.

"Etta ...
wait."

She stopped, and
Cara rolled over so she could see her without expending the energy to lift her
head. And wasn't she something to behold? Brand new braid extensions falling
halfway down her back, matching neon green mani and pedi, a floral print halter
sundress, disreputable looking straw cowboy hat, and the largest fountain drink
cup ever made completed Etta's ensemble.

"What are
you doing here at this time of day?" Cara asked, her breath still coming
hard.

Etta parked a
hand on her ample hip. "Oh, no, baby. That's my line. I'm just
mindin
' my own vacation business, stoppin' at the drive
through for a cold drink on my way outta town this morning when I see your car
in this here parkin' lot. Don't be talkin' to me about what I'm doin' here this
mornin'. What I wanna know is what you're doin' up in here shakin' the rafters
and your behind with that
caterwallin
' music at this
unholy hour of day, missy."

Leave it to Etta
to draw things sharply into focus.

Cara rolled to a
sitting position and drew a deep breath. "Exercising ... or maybe
exorcising
demons. Not sure which."

Etta's eyes went
round and her penciled brows arched halfway up her forehead. "What're you
talkin' about, girl?"

"I'm
talking about losing my mind because my brother-in-law kissed me."

Etta's eye grew
even larger.

"And I liked
it way too much, and now I think it's going to ruin our relationship and I
don't know what to do about it ...  and I haven't slept all night for
wanting to drive over there and rip his clothes off and have my hot, sweaty way
with him." That pretty much summed it up, Cara thought.