Can't Fight This Feeling (23 page)

Her footsteps only dragged, so he added a kiss as persuasion. When he lifted his head, she was no longer resisting. As he unlocked the door to his cabin, she did manage to make one last protest. “Really, Brett. You know I’ll be fine.”

He nodded as he guided her inside instead of expressing the sudden worry that he might not be. He might not be fine ever again.

* * *

A
NGELICA
PULLED
A
plastic-wrapped staple gun from the cardboard packing box and handed it up to Glory, standing on a stepladder. “I’m still not sleeping with Kyle,” her friend said.

“That’s your prerogative.” Angelica passed on another package.

“I want to,” Glory said. “But I’m being cautious.”

“He told you he wasn’t married. You believe him, right?”

“Yes.” Glory frowned as she took the last package. “But I still think he’s holding something back.”

Angelica frowned, too, as she broke down the now-empty box. She’d been sleeping with Brett. Three nights in a row now. And though he was thorough and slow, every time, she could feel his restraint.

Maybe she should have some herself. But she’d gone willingly to his bed. So willingly.

Now she had to admit their relationship, such as it was, was going to end soon.

In the past couple of days, though she might wake up warm and sated, she’d also become more clear eyed. Despite her great attachment to the mountains, as the temperatures grew colder, she saw it was time to be a realist. Her sojourn here was drawing to a close, maybe even before Brett had the chance to tell her it was over between them.

Every night, she’d held out hope he’d share more of himself. A couple of times she’d brought up Lorraine Kushi, thinking he might reveal what had gone on with her...and then what had gone wrong. But instead he’d taken her to bed to terminate the questioning.

He wasn’t opening up to her.

Common sense reared its head each morning when she started her car and her vehicle’s engine protested the cold. By the first heavy rain, she’d need another way to get around. Without more hours or another job, replacing her convertible was an impossibility. Just yesterday, her lawyer had said her funds were still lost to her.

Maybe if she could believe in a future with Brett, she could find a way to stay in Blue Arrow, but that wasn’t the case.

So her life would have to restart down the hill. Soon.

She carried the flattened cardboard out the rear exit and stacked it in the recycle bin. Back inside the shop, she saw that Glory was on the phone. A supplier, probably, because she wore that pained expression that came with an order mix-up. Gesturing Angelica over, her friend passed her cash and a note. The last read “Coffee! Please!”

Figuring she could use a midafternoon pickup herself, Angelica headed out to the village center. The air smelled like the lake and the breeze held a distinct chill. She’d borrowed Glory’s heavy sweatshirt on her way out the door and she zipped it now, even going so far as to pull up the hood to cover her hair.

She nodded to a couple of acquaintances and staved off a growing melancholy by pausing to admire the florist’s front window. The only practical solution was to leave Blue Arrow and the mountains. Even if she managed some way to make staying financially feasible, it would hurt too much to be here once Brett moved on.

Because he
would
move on...right?

Biting her bottom lip, she stared at a cornucopia-shaped basket filled with mums and roses, seeing none of it. Instead, she remember the night before—the crackling fire, being stretched out on the couch with Brett over her, his big body kindling more flames.

He bent his head to kiss her neck, her mouth, her temple. “Give it to me,” he’d whispered.

“What?”

“That little noise you make in the back of your throat when you get wet.”

“Brett!”

“Or are you wet already?”

She’d glanced away, embarrassed.

“Such an easy girl,” he’d teased. “So easy for me.” His hand had slid down her twitching belly and into her jeans. He’d teased her over her panties until she squirmed. “So easy,” he’d murmured again.

So easy to love
was what she’d longed to hear.

Shaking off the memory, she started up the sidewalk again.
Be a realist
, she reminded herself.

A man came out of the shop ahead and she realized it was Jace Jennings. He stopped short upon seeing her. “You’re the answer to a prayer!” he said, looking relieved.

“Um...happy to be?”

“I’m not kidding,” he said, taking her arm and dragging her back into the store he’d just exited. It was one of her favorites—a boutique stocked with unique women’s clothing in California surfer/mountain style, as well as a selection of boots and shoes. “I need something,” he said, with a vague wave at the shelves and racks.

“Okay.” Her lips twitched and she pretended to look him over. “What’s your size?”

He blinked, then grinned. “Funny. It’s for London.”

“Shay—”

“Informed me I had to pick out the gift myself. I’m new to this dad thing and she believes I need to practice.”

“So isn’t appealing to me kind of...cheating?”

“Yes,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “But nobody has to know about that but you and me.”

He was irresistible, she decided. Handsome and all-guy, but so anxious to select something just right for his daughter. They settled on a multicolored sweater with a vaguely Tibetan air to it as well as a pair of boots that had a matching woolen design woven into the brown leather.

His kiss to her cheek was exuberant as they parted ways. “You’ll keep my secret?”

“Of course,” she said, grinning.

He tapped her on the nose. “I hope Brett knows what a jewel he has.”

She thought she should protest.
He doesn’t have me! We don’t have each other!
But instead she held close the warmth of Jace’s regard. She didn’t realize she and Brett had even revealed their attraction that night at Poppy and Ryan’s, but apparently the family had guessed.

Or they could read Brett better than she and thought he was truly into her.

Her heart gave a little skip.

Maybe he
was
truly into her. Maybe...

Reaching Oscar’s, she swung open the door. There was a line at the counter, as usual. People crowded the tables inside, and there was even a man and woman seated at one of the bistro sets on the patio.

She glanced at them, then her gaze swiveled back. The couple was none other than TV reporter Lorraine Kushi and Angelica’s own man-next-door, Brett Walker. If body language could be believed, he was pissed. His arms were crossed over his chest. Lorraine leaned forward as Angelica watched, putting a placating hand on his shirtsleeve.

He shifted away from it.

“Can I help you?”

Angelica started, realizing her turn was up. She quickly gave her order, then shuffled to the side to wait for the drinks. After a moment’s resistance, she peeked around the side of her hood to take in the drama on the patio.

Though she wasn’t trying to touch Brett again, Lorraine had scooted her chair closer to his. His expression had gone from angry to frozen and the look in his icy eyes made Angelica shiver a little.

When her drinks were up, she tore her gaze away and retrieved the two cups. Then she hesitated. Out the front door was the right thing to do. But there was another exit, at the side, that would take her to the alley behind the patio. She’d be hidden by the arbor at the back.

But she might be able to hear something.

Would a jury of her lovelorn peers find her eavesdropping unsympathetic? What if it was because she wanted to better understand the man she cared for...and who had been so kind to her? Her war with herself lasted two seconds. Then she was out the side door and just a couple of feet away from the pair.

Lorraine’s voice was low. “I know it was unforgivable of me—”

“Then why are you asking for forgiveness?”

“I’m aware I hurt you—”

“The memory of it greets me every morning, babe.”

Angelica blinked, surprised his pride didn’t dictate a denial. Mac had said the other woman broke his heart, and now she had confirmation from the horse’s mouth. Her chest hurt as the knowledge settled there, as chilling as the autumn breeze.

“Please,” Lorraine tried again. “Brett—”

“It greets me every morning...and I prize the lesson.” The scrape of chair legs accompanied the angry words.

“Don’t leave,” Lorraine begged.

“I’m out.” Heavy footsteps receded in the distance.

Angelica hesitated half a second this time. Then she scurried down the alley, in the same direction as the man who’d slept with his arms around her the night before. She wanted to... She needed to...

It seemed imperative for her to get a clearer understanding of his mood. Maybe she was overreacting to the overheard conversation. Everybody knew eavesdropping could lead to misconstrued clues.

She didn’t want to believe he’d once cared so much for someone else, especially when he couldn’t have that same depth of feeling for her.

Popping onto the village’s main street, she saw he was half a block ahead of her. Again channeling her inner private investigator, she followed at a discreet distance. Once she thought he felt her presence, because he paused. She slowed her steps, but then he rubbed the back of his neck and kept on going.

At the next corner, he turned right. When she reached it, she hesitated.

Fingers pinched the thick fabric of her sweatshirt and yanked her onto the narrow side street. Brett stared down at her, his face still set in grim lines. “What are you up to?”

“Coffee,” she said, holding up the cups. “For me and Glory.”

“The hardware store’s in the opposite direction.”

“Oh.” She tried on an innocent expression as she glanced about. “You’re right. I got turned around.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

True. She took a breath, trying to come up with a better one, then shrugged. “I saw you stomp away from Oscar’s, and I was...worried about you.”

He leaned one strong shoulder against the building behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. “Worried.”

He was in his surly mood from the summer. “I just... I don’t know—”

“Spill it, angel face.”

“I saw you with Lorraine Kushi.” The words tumbled out.

He could start a second career as an interrogator. When he merely continued staring, she wanted to spill every secret.

Last summer, I used to think of you at night in my bed and touch myself.

I once wrote “Angelica Walker” in the condensation on my shower door.

I’m in love with you.

What came out was the
L
word, all right, but turned on its head. “You loved her, didn’t you?” she said.

Brett’s expression froze over. “What does this have to do with you?”

Nothing. Everything. She sucked in a breath. “I...I just want to help. You’ve been my friend—”

“Oh, fucking stop the friend stuff.” He grabbed a hold of her sweatshirt at the throat and yanked her to her toes. “I’ve sucked your nipples and bitten your neck. You’ve taken my cock in your pussy and in your mouth. None of that happened because we’re friends.” He released her and she fell back to her heels.

Her face was hot. She cleared her throat. “Well, that was frank.”

“You want frank? Here’s frank. Lorraine Kushi is a snake. We had a thing...years ago when I got back from Afghanistan and was almost immediately sent to Florida for a hurricane relief effort. I wanted a woman and she wanted access. Fair enough, I suppose, until she dumped me for a superior officer with superior access.” He ran a finger over his scars.

“Um—”

“I got the breakup text while I was waiting to show her into a restricted area full of damaged homes for her latest story. While I was standing there gnashing my teeth, I heard something from inside one of the houses. Without thinking—because that was how I’d been operating of late—I went inside. In moments, the place fell down around me.” He pointed to his face. “Cuts here, broken bones elsewhere. I was alone for the next twelve hours, trapped in the dark.”

“Oh, Brett.”

“Don’t. Don’t pity me about that. Because here’s the frankest of the frank, princess. I’m glad I had that time to think...to see things clearly. It was just long enough for me to realize I can be an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” she protested.

“Oh, I am,” he said. “I have lousy judgment when it comes to women.”

Angelica reared back.

It gave Brett the space he needed to stride off.

I have lousy judgment when it comes to women.

Stinging from the verbal slap, she watched him go. Okay, she thought, blowing out a breath.

Answers given. Situation clarified. She’d wanted real...and that’s just what she’d received.