He kissed every part of her face, from her hairline to her jaw and back again. When their mouths finally touched, he moaned, and the sound reverberated through her like a string strummed on a guitar. Sweetly. Powerfully. He didn’t have to slide inside her then, because he’d already found another way in.
Through her heart.
She woke before dawn to an empty bed. Disappointment came first, followed by curiosity. She slid her hand across the cool sheets and sat up, wondering where he’d gotten off to so early. It wasn’t even light out yet. Maybe he’d gone for a run? He probably figured she wouldn’t be up for a while.
She rolled over on her stomach and spread out on his enormous bed, sighing a little at the scent of his aftershave and the soap they used at the shop. It was some heavy-duty stuff that smelled more like detergent. Clean. Her lashes fluttered and she smiled. She’d just have to get him all dirty again.
Right before her eyes closed she glimpsed the folded note on the nightstand. She snatched it up and squinted to make out his messy writing.
Went to fix your car. I’ll drop it off when I’m done. Get some sleep. XO
“Aw, dammit.” A wave of guilt swept over her, and she gripped the note tighter. She didn’t want him to have to go to all that trouble. But then again, he hadn’t been too impressed with her attempt to drive his truck. He probably wanted to save his baby from more abuse.
And he was beyond sweet too. No arguing that.
Now that she knew he wouldn’t be returning anytime soon, she hauled herself out of bed and into the shower. She took a quick, hot one and dried off, jumping from foot to foot to avoid the cold floor. Old houses were great, but they had their quirks.
Her gaze landed on the candles that had guttered out in their own wax on the back of the sink. Shoot. She must be abandoning all sense entirely, because she’d forgotten all about them, as had Brad. They were lucky they hadn’t burned the house down.
A goofy grin slipped across her face as she padded back into his room. One way or another…
She straightened up as best she could then opened the door. Just as well she’d gotten up early. Now she could return to her own room before Kim was any the wiser.
Or not.
“There you are,” Kim exclaimed, stopping dead in her gimpy flight up the hallway from Sara’s ro
om. She clutched the doll she’d obviously removed from Sara’s bed in her hands. “What the fuck is this all about? I was about to—” Her gaze slipped down Sara’s still-damp body, only partially disguised by the towel she held weakly to her chest. “What the hell are you doing in my brother’s room? Naked?”
Chapter Nine
Brad hit the landing of the stairs in time to hear the voices on the second level. At first he thought the girls were arguing, then he realized it was just Sara talking loud enough to shake the bats from the belfries they didn’t have.
“Oh, that’s your mom’s doll. You know, the one on the rocker. Isn’t she pretty? I love her hair. It’s so silky.”
“Yeah, Sar, the doll’s awesome. Why was she in your bed?” Undecipherable mumbling. Probably swear words, knowing his sister. “And why were you in Brad’s room?”
He gripped the banister and fought his urge to haul his ass upstairs and handle this situation once and for all. Surely Sara would fess up now, since everything was practically out in the open. She couldn’t keep lying when she was obviously caught.
“Oh, I couldn’t sleep in there last night, and I didn’t want you to worry that I’d never come home. You have enough on your mind. How are you feeling? Is your ankle better?”
He knocked his head against the wall. It didn’t diminish his ability to hear Sara’s high, panicked voice. For fuck’s sake. She couldn’t be honest. Instead she had to fabricate these asinine stories and expected him to go along with them. Every time he thought they were closer to her telling Kim they were seeing each other, she pulled some new shit.
Like telling Kim her bird had been mouthy, and Brad had been “out” so she’d used his room.
As much as he kept trying to deny it, it was becoming clear Sara might have another reason for not coming clean. Maybe she was ashamed of him. He wasn’t only younger, he was a mechanic. One that owned his own shop, true, but that would never compare to the men in the circles she belonged to. He didn’t compare, if she only looked at stats on a sheet.
He’d believed she wasn’t that superficial. Perhaps he was wrong.
About a lot of things.
There was no denying he had strong feelings for her. First as a friend, then as a lover. Somehow she’d slipped into the girlfriend role in his mind, and clearly that wasn’t in the cards. If she believed he’d keep lying indefinitely, evidently she hadn’t been paying attention last night. Good—fine, amazing—sex wasn’t worth losing his self-respect. He’d already done that once by marrying a woman he didn’t love for the sake of a child that didn’t exist. Months later, he’d yet to shake the betrayal that came from being played. And the disappointment of losing a child he’d never truly had but had come to love.
Now there was a new disappointment and new lies. Worst of all, he’d been complicit in them. Instead of looking deeper into why Sara wanted to keep things private, he’d taken her at face value. Obviously he hadn’t learned anything from the Darla situation.
At least he knew Sara wouldn’t try to trap him in a relationship. She didn’t want one, not with him.
So much for hoping that she’d swiftly see the idiocy of her plan to hide their relationship behind closed doors. She could say she didn’t want to chance ruining their freewheeling lifestyle in the house, but she’d done that all on her own. He needed to end things now before she ruined their friendship too.