The Other Brooks Boy (Texas Wildfire Series) (4 page)

"No,"
she said, thrown a little by his serious demeanor. "It's actually kinda
nice. Thank you," she said. And it was true. It was silly to feel that
way, but it was romantic and slightly heroic and the complete opposite of what
Jason would have done. He'd have groused about her buying stupid, expensive
shoes that hurt her feet and would have let her figure her own way to the car
to boot. She snuggled her arms around Greg's neck a little closer and smiled at
him when he turned back to look at her again.

"You've got
beautiful eyes, Greg," she said as he walked along.

A dry grin
tugged at the corner of his handsome mouth, she noticed. "I think
someone's had a little too much wine tonight," he said. "Maybe I'd
better drive you home," he added in a more serious tone.

"No, I
haven't. Really. I only had two glasses all night and I burned off that alcohol
hours ago," she assured him. They had reached the side of her car, and she
expected him to finally unburden himself and put her down, but he didn't. He
stood there looking at her like he was trying to decide if she were truly sober
or not.

"For real.
I'm fine, Greg," she said. "You can put me down and I can drive home.
No problem."

He still looked
doubtful, but did finally put her down. His hands, however, remained loosely
holding her at the waist. "You're certain?" he asked.

She lowered her
hands to the sleeves of his tux jacket and nodded. "I'm good to go. You
know I wouldn't take a chance like that."

He nodded back.
"Yeah. I do know it." His hands tightened a bit at her waist, giving
her a gentle tug. "Listen ... you cannot know the difference you made for
the success of this fundraiser tonight. And for me personally," he added
quickly. "Thank you so much for coming."

She smiled
softly. "No,
you
listen," she said, playfully poking him in
the chest. "This was so much fun. I can't remember the last time I danced
all night like that. I absolutely loved it. Thank you for inviting me."

"You'll do
it again?" he asked, his brows arched in question.

She tilted her
head to one side affectedly. "Let's see ... get a fancy pedicure, buy
ridiculously expensive and painful shoes and get all dressed up to be escorted
to a really fun party by a man with downright gorgeous eyes, and who, by the
way, looks damn sexy in a tux? I don't know," she said doubtfully.
"Sounds like a pain in the butt to me."

He smiled, and
she leveled a look at him then. "Lucky for you, I like you." She
squeezed his arms, almost like a hug. "Anytime."

She rose to
tiptoe to kiss his cheek, but was surprised to meet his lips instead. It just
happened somehow, she wasn't at all sure how. And she really didn't know what
to do about it. But there they were kissing suddenly, and he smelled so good,
and her heart jumped up in her throat and took to beating wildly.  Warm
and soft, firm enough to differentiate from one of those little pecks you press
on your family member, this kiss jerked her to a new level of consciousness in
the space of one rapid heartbeat.

After another
moment, she pulled back and looked at him with surprise, she knew, showing in
her eyes, but she couldn't help it. He looked like he'd been hit between the
eyes with a two-by-four.

He stepped back
and dropped his hands from her waist. "Good night, Sweet Cheeks," he
said, then turned and walked away.

Cara watched him
for a moment, her mind like a wind tunnel, blowing thoughts around furiously
until none were able to stick anywhere. She finally had presence of mind to dig
her keys out of her purse and get in her car. And then she watched him some
more, that handsome man walking away from her with his broad shoulders and
narrow waist and a swagger that surely had always been there. Hadn't it?

She was making
it into a way bigger deal than it really was, no doubt, but she could
not
forget the way she felt when she'd found herself kissing Greg. And it was still
a mystery as to exactly who kissed whom. She couldn't decide if she'd missed
the mark when she reached to kiss his cheek, or if he'd turned to catch her
mouth with his. Maybe she had been more buzzed than she realized, but she
quickly dismissed the thought. She had been stone cold sober and profoundly
affected by that kiss when she was driving home this morning.

As a kiss, it
hadn't amounted to much really. No tongue, no grappling, or grinding involved
at all. Just a sweet meeting of two mouths, but not altogether dry, either, she
remembered. But the way it made her feel was what really got her. Sure, she'd
been surprised by it. Really surprised. I mean, this was Greg.

Greg
, for heaven's
sake.

How in the world
had it happened? And what was she to do with it all now? Go on as before and pretend
it never happened? Or apologize to him for making a fool of herself at the end
of a perfectly lovely evening, the likes of which she hadn't enjoyed in
for-freakin-ever
?
Was he over there thinking her pitiful and needy and horny? Oh, God. She could hardly
stand it.

Maybe she'd go
on the Single Seniors Cruise with Barbara and the girls and escape him for a
while until he forgot all about it. Surely he would forget it. Eventually.

Maybe.

Oh, Lord.

The problem was
she didn't think she was going to be able to forget it any time soon. Not the
way he looked in that tux. Not the way he carried her across the parking garage
like a knight in shining armor. Or the way he'd said he liked her pedicure ...
or the way he smelled.

Damnation.

She
was
pitiful and needy and horny.

And why not?
Really, she needed to quit being so hard on herself. She was a healthy woman
with a healthy sex drive that hadn't seen any action in a long time. Nearly two
years to be exact. She and Jason hadn't made love for about six months before
he'd died.

Things hadn't
been good between her and Jason. He'd known it. She'd known it, too. But
nothing in the world had prepared her to know that he had died in a rented car
in Cleveland that night and his girlfriend had died with him. It had taken some
time to put it all together, but the further she dug, the more evident it had
become that the woman had indeed been Jason's lover. That explained so much.

His staying over
to work weekends in Cleveland suddenly made more sense. His disinterest in the
kids' activities, his disinterest in sex. It wasn't a great loss, truth be
told, the sex part. He'd never been a particularly attentive or generous lover,
but something was better than nothing. They'd dwindled down to absolutely
nothing in that last six months. He'd been getting it elsewhere, she knew now.
It still felt like a stinking betrayal of the First Order. Bastard. And she'd
never told a single soul.

So, yeah. Who
wouldn't be a little on the needy side at this point in the game?

But to be attracted
to
Greg
? Had she lost her mind?

Not that there
was anything wrong with Greg. In fact, since he and Beth divorced, any number
of girlfriends and acquaintances had attempted to get their foot in the door
with him through her. He was a dynamic and successful forty-year-old man who
just happened to be really fit and damn good looking.

And thoughtful.
Truly, a thoughtful man was worth his weight in gold, she decided, remembering
birthdays and anniversaries that had gone unacknowledged by her husband.

Greg was
dependable, too. Lord knew she depended on him a lot. Probably too much. And he
was always there. No fuss, no problem. There to help her out with whatever help
she might need. He'd replaced a dead ceiling fan for her last summer without
even having been asked, and more than once in the past year, he'd taken her car
for service. It dawned on her that Greg Brooks was, in reality, all the things
Jason Brooks had so carefully convinced everyone else he was. While Jason's was
all done with smoke and mirrors, Cara knew Greg was the real deal. Quietly,
unassumingly, genuinely good in just about every way.

No, there was
not a thing wrong with Greg Brooks.

Except one.

He was her
freakin' brother-in-law.  And that made it a deal breaker.

All she could do
today was hope that he didn't think it nearly as big a deal as she did, and
that he would forget all about it by the time they saw one another next.

***

Settling his
ball cap backward on his head, Greg headed south on Lohman Ford Road with no
particular destination in mind. He felt the need to get a little wind in his
face and sun on his back today. He hadn't had the bike out in a while, and
there were very few places he could think more clearly than astraddle the Hog.

So what the holy
hell had he been thinking when he'd kissed Cara last night?

He'd asked
himself that question a dozen times since he'd walked away from her last night
and felt her astonished gaze follow him all the way across that parking garage.
He still didn't have an answer for the question.

Most likely he
hadn't been thinking at all. It had been a knee-jerk reaction to having her on
his arm all evening and in his arms while they danced a time to two, and sure
enough in his arms when he'd carried her like a besotted fool halfway around
the world to keep her from getting her feet wet.
Overkill much? You think,
man?

He shook his
head and drove on feeling like a fool and a scoundrel.
Lord, who used that
word anymore? Could he get any more dramatic today?
But it was a perfectly appropriate
word for how he felt. He'd taken advantage of Cara last night, turning his face
into her kiss so he might feel her mouth and taste her. Just for a second.
That's all. For the space of one quick drawn breath. He'd felt her flinch when
he'd surprised her with the move. And it hadn't been fair at all. But he hadn't
been able to keep himself from doing it in the moment.

He'd watched her
dance all night and charm every man in the place who possessed a viable pulse,
himself included. God, she was a beauty. Sleek and toned and with that tight
little ass, shaking it all over the dance floor. And happy. Lord, he liked a
happy woman. Beth had been so unhappy for so much of their marriage until he'd
walked around in a perpetual state of mourning, whether he'd felt it or not.
Because that's just how they rolled. And usually because she'd started her
period again, and for at least another month, there would be no baby.

Happy was nice.
Cara had always been happy. Even in high school, she was one of those sunshine
makers everyone liked. You couldn't help but like her. She spread that stuff in
her wake like marshmallow fluff or something.

But there was
more to Cara than met the eye. Over the years he'd watched her stand by Jason's
side as he rose in the corporate rankings and became more and more successful,
often stepping on her and the kids in the process. It had taken a toll on their
marriage for sure. He was always traveling, leaving Cara at home with those
babies. Forgetting about her. It seemed like he'd taken her completely for
granted. And she took it for granted that that's the way it was. No
complaining. He didn't think he'd ever heard her complain about Jason's travel
for work, or for his fishing and hunting trips. Always having to entertain the
client with one exotic boys' trip or another. He couldn't ever take his clients
to the Caribbean or someplace she might have tagged along and enjoyed.

Guilt hit him
then, like a big fat June bug right in the teeth. Who the hell did he think he
was measuring his brother's marriage when his own had failed? And when he'd
taken a good deal too much pleasure in holding his brother's wife in his arms
on the dance floor last night? And when he'd kissed her?
Really?
Where
the hell did he get off thinking he had the right to pass judgment on Jason?

He punched it
hard and rode like hell for several miles, screaming through speed limits and
whipping around slower moving traffic. Just letting the wind blow some of the
shit
from his mind. Finally, he came to the end of the
road, left the black top and slowed down to approach the lake. He killed the
engine and sat there for a minute looking out across the water and let it
soothe him.

"I'm sorry,
brother," he said to the wind. "Sorry I kissed your wife."

It made him feel
a very small fraction better. But it didn't do anything about Cara. He'd have
to deal with that. The thought made him want to get back on the road and ride
all the way to Mexico.

***

He'd put off
apologizing as long as he dared. As long as he could without her thinking he
was a total jackass who'd taken advantage of her. Which is exactly what he felt
like.

There was no
avoiding it today. Today he was going by there to pick up Ryan and take him to
baseball camp at O.U. in Norman, Oklahoma. He'd drive them up and stay for a
day, scouting a little, and see what the talent looked like. These kids were
young, but it didn't hurt to keep his finger on the pulse of the up and coming.
Ryan planned to stay the week at camp, then take off with the family of one of
his friends for some mountain time in Colorado. He'd be gone for two weeks.

But before they
could get on the road, Greg had to clear the air with Cara. He hadn't spoken
with her all week. Not since Saturday night. There was no telling what she was
thinking. And there was no getting around it. He didn't really know why he was
dreading it so. Cara was a very forgiving person. And Lord knew he would feel
so much better when this was out of the way. They'd go on as before. No big
deal.

But the minute
he looked at her, and she looked across the den at him, he knew it was a big
freakin' deal. He could see it in her brown eyes clear as day. And he sensed it
in her forced cheerfulness and busyness, prodding Ryan to get his stuff
together. Greg recognized she was fussing and scurrying around to avoid
actually dealing with him.

"Ryan
Daniel, I told you to get this dirty bat bag into the garage before you left.
And here it sits, right in the middle of the hall. And your filthy old cleats,
too," she fussed at him uncharacteristically.

Ryan walked over
and picked up the bag and shoes, a perturbed expression on his face. "All
right, Mom. You don't have to be a bitch about it," he said.

Cara's eyes went
round, and without thinking, Greg stepped in. "Whoa, dude. That's not
gonna fly with me. You apologize for that remark," he demanded.

Ryan slung the
bag over his shoulder, then looked at Greg. "You have no idea, Uncle Greg.
It's been hell around here today."

"And your
disrespect is making the situation better how?" Greg asked him. He knew it
was a smartass question and probably wouldn't help the situation either, but it
made him mad to see Ryan treat Cara that way. Ryan shrugged and shook his head
as if Greg didn't understand at all.

"It's still
not flying with me, Ryan. Apologize to your mother," Greg told him, a
darker measure of warning in his voice.

Ryan finally
looked at her. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry,
too, Ryan. I'm a little stressed with you guys all leaving in different
directions. I'm sorry if I've been a grouch," she said.

He said nothing
else, but made his way toward the garage while Cara and Greg looked at one
another.

"What the
hell is that all about?" Greg asked.

"It happens
from time to time. He's a lot like Jason ... gets mad and mouthy." She
went back to checking luggage, but Greg easily read the stress in her body
language.

"Sorry I
jumped in there. It just took me by surprise."

She didn't even
look at him, but kept on struggling with the zipper on Ryan's suitcase.
"It's okay, Greg. He needed a little discipline. It's getting hard for me
to have much authority over him. He's a head taller and outweighs me by fifty
pounds now."

Greg finally
took over with the zipper, gently pushing her hands away. "That doesn't
give him the right to speak with you that way. It isn't right."

She straightened
and found his gaze with hers. "But it's what he knows. It's exactly how
his father spoke to me when he was mad."

Greg suspected
as much, had actually witnessed it a time or two, though he figured Jason had
taken great pains to cover it up in public. "Well, it's not a something he
can't
unlearn
. We'll have ample opportunity to talk about that on our
ride to Norman."

Ryan came back
into the room, a little more sheepish, but Greg could still read the boy, and
there was definitely a smolder of anger beneath the surface. "Do you have
everything you need?" Greg asked him.

"Yeah."

"All right,
then. Get this stuff loaded in the bed of my truck and wait for me there. I
want to talk to your mother for a minute." That earned him a dark look,
but Ryan did as he asked.