When We Touch. Brenda Novak
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everything else in sight. Somehow, seeing her hometown looming ahead had destroyed her restraint. Rage seemed to be a monster growing in strength and power until it was bursting out of her chest—
A knock on the window interrupted her midsob. She’d been so focused on her distress, on screaming and beating her dashboard, she hadn’t heard anyone approach.
Mortified to realize she had a witness to her behavior, she turned to see a tall, blond man dressed in a white T-shirt, khaki shorts and flip-flops. His mouth, tense with some emotion, made a slash in his face beneath a pair of mirrorlike sunglasses.
Oh, God… Despite those glasses, it wasn’t a cop, as she’d expected. Worse—it was Kyle’s stepbrother, Brandon Lucero. He was younger than Kyle by a year, which made him almost a year older than her, and he appeared to be…concerned. No doubt he thought she’d lost her mind.
He might as well have caught her with her pants down. It would’ve been less embarrassing. Her only consolation was that Brandon wasn’t likely to tell Kyle what he’d seen, even if he connected it to the upcoming wedding. There was no love lost between the two men. They’d lived together while in high school, after Kyle’s mother married Brandon’s father, but that hadn’t made them friends.
Brandon waited to speak until she rolled down the window. “You okay?” he asked, his teeth a stark contrast to his golden tan.
After getting abusive with the interior of her innocent car, her right hand hurt so badly she was afraid she’d fractured it. She cradled it in her lap, hoping he wouldn’t notice the swelling, and wiped her other hand over her wet cheeks. This kind of behavior wasn’t like her.
“Don’t I look okay?” she countered as if she hadn’t just lost control.
“Babe.” He shook his head. “Tell me this has nothing to do with Kyle.”
She dabbed at her eyes, inadvertently smearing her mascara, which she wiped onto her white shorts. Cut low at the hips and high on the leg, they’d been purchased with one goal in mind—turning male heads. In her current situation, she needed the ego boost. But her pride in the body she’d worked so hard to slenderize and tone had gone out the window, along with her composure. What did it matter if she looked better than she ever had? Noelle was marrying the man Olivia thought would be her husband. “Would you believe I broke a nail?”
His biceps bulged, stretching the sleeves of his T-shirt as he folded his arms. “Not a chance. Want to try something else?”
“No. Who cares if you think I’m an idiot?” she grumbled as she pushed her long hair out of her face. “You’ve never liked me much to begin with.”
This seemed to surprise him. “What gave you that impression?”
“I don’t know.” She managed a facetious smirk. “Maybe the way you scowl every time you see me? Or, if you can’t avoid me, which is always your first choice, you just grunt so you don’t have to say hello?”
He scowled when she’d expected him to laugh. “Would you believe I was saving you from myself?”
“No.”
“I can be chivalrous when I want to be.”
“That’s definitely not an adjective I’d use to describe you. I’m sure all the women with broken hearts you’ve left behind would agree with me.”
His scowl darkened. “What women with broken hearts?”
She could’ve named a few. Some of them were acquaintances. He was a tempting challenge—few women could refuse him. But he didn’t give her the chance to be more specific. He was still talking.
“I’m going to assume you’re angry or you wouldn’t have said that. You’re obviously having a bad day.”
Ah, the understatement of the year. And since she had to face Kyle and Noelle as well as her parents in the next few minutes, her day was going to get worse.
“We had a class together, remember?” he added. “I took you to my junior prom. I’ve always liked you just fine.”
She couldn’t see his eyes, but she sensed that they were moving over her, taking inventory of what her clothes revealed. Instinctively she wanted to cover up. The only thing stopping her was the sure knowledge that doing so would draw more attention to her atypical attire. “And—” he grinned “—from what I can see so far, I’m going to like the new you even more.”
What had she been thinking when she’d put on this outfit? If Kyle didn’t regret what he’d done by now, a pair of short shorts and a low-cut blouse wouldn’t do the trick. It was too late to save what they’d had, anyway. It wasn’t as if she could take him back.
“I dressed in a weak moment,” she explained, her face burning. “I needed to feel attractive.”
“Mission accomplished.” He whistled. “You could stop traffic. You stopped me, didn’t you?”
She considered the amusement on his face. “I’m pretty sure you thought I was having engine trouble.”
“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