“Years, I know. But if you like me, then why do you look like I killed your pet?”
She wrestled with the truth. Because I’m too confused to think straight. You travel all the time and have all those groupies all over you. You’ll get bored of my life. You’ll hate having a child around all the time, and most of all, I can’t bring you into our lives and have Layla worry that you’ll leave—and I don’t want that worry either. “Because you’re leaving at the end of next week.” She hated how deflated she sounded, but it was exactly how she felt, as if she were given wings and began to fly and then suddenly the wings were whisked away and she was left floating aimlessly down to a painful reality.
“I’ll be back.”
“I know. But the more time I spend with you, the more time I’m going to want to spend with you.” Why am I bothering to tell you? I need to stop wanting you.
“Well, then, we’ll just have to make that happen.”
Hugh put his arms around her again and she wished he’d never brought up her twelve-year-plan. If he hadn’t, she’d be naked beneath him instead of convincing herself that she should never see him again.
Chapter Eleven
“YOU’RE KIDDING, RIGHT?” Brianna stood in Hugh’s garage looking at his Mercedes Roadster, Aston Martin, Ferrari 458 Speciale, and Icon Sheene motorcycle. “Hugh, really? I can’t even think while looking at these. They can’t be real. I mean, Matchbox? Sure. Real? You can pinch me and wake me up now.”
“I know it’s a little much. Some guys collect baseball cards. I collect cars. So, which one should we take?” He knew he was pushing her past her comfort zone, but he’d seen the way she froze when he mentioned leaving after the next weekend. She had a child to think about, and he was hell-bent on getting to know Brianna better, child or not. Something clicked in him last night, a protective urge, a stirring of something more than sexual desire, and he had to explore the meaning of it. In order to do that, she had to know more than just what he was inclined to tell her. If he had a prayer of her accepting him into her life enough to date her and see if what he felt was real or not, then she had to see all of him—and then she could decide if he was the type of guy she wanted to be with, regardless of what he owned or what he did for a living.
She sighed. “Fine. It’s probably the only time I’ll ever ride in one of these anyway. The red one.”
“The red one? You’re so cute.” He took her hand and opened the passenger door of the Ferrari 458 Speciale. “If you’d have picked any of the other cars, I would have offered for you to drive, but the 458 is more like a race car than a luxury vehicle, and I’d worry about your safety.”
“Oh my God, trust me. You don’t want me driving one of your cars.”
Her insecurities were cute, but not at all necessary. She was obviously a bright woman who made sound decisions. He trusted Brianna, and if he was really going to show her who he was, he had to show her that, too. “You know what? How about I take you out in the Ferrari another time, and you drive the Aston Martin today?”
She backed up, waving her hands in front of her. “No. No way. No, no, no. I’m like a big gray cloud when it comes to cars.”
Hugh crossed his arms and laughed. “Then I guess we’re not going anywhere and you’ll be late to work, because I’m not driving.”
“Hugh. No.” She shook her head.
“Sorry. No can do.”
“Hugh,” she said in a harsher tone. “How can you even ask me to drive one? They’re more expensive than anything I’ll ever own.”
“They’re cars, Bree. They’re less valuable than Layla, and you trust yourself with her.” He watched her lips press together, and he knew he’d struck a chord. “They’re just cars.”
She shook her head again with the most adorable, emphatic frown he’d ever seen. Hugh went to her and wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either.” He needed her to see that cars were just possessions. They weren’t what made him who he was. She needed to separate him from everything else in her mind so he could prove to her he was worth going out with again.
“Hugh,” she whispered. “What if I wreck it?”
“I have insurance, so as long as you don’t hurt yourself…” He shrugged.
She buried her face in his chest. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“I can’t believe you’re fighting me on it.” He held up the keys, and she snagged them from him.
“Fine. Whatever. Do you do this to all your girlfriends?”
“I don’t have girlfriends, so the answer is no.” He smiled as he opened the driver’s side door for her and then climbed into the passenger side. He clicked the remote, and the garage doors lifted.
“A guy like you has girlfriends.” She gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white.
“Okay, wait.” He pried her fingers from the steering wheel and gently settled her back against the seat. “First of all, no, I don’t. I have dated women, but I haven’t had a real girlfriend, someone who I cared about and went out with more than three or four times, since I was in college. Just so you know, I’ve spent the last few months separating myself from that dating world of fan girls and models. Second…I’m really sorry, but you’re so tense. I gotta do this.” He leaned across the seat and kissed her until he felt the tension ease from her body. She met each stroke of his tongue with a passionate, hungry stroke of her own, and then he kissed her longer, simply because she was too sweet to forgo.
When he drew back, her eyes were closed. “Better?” he asked.
She blinked several times. “Yeah.” She nodded. “Good. Fine. Great.” She put her delicate fingers back on the steering wheel and wrapped them gently around the leather, as if she had no energy left to put forth. She shifted the car into gear, and her lips curved into a smile as she drove onto the main road.
“This isn’t at all like driving. It’s like flying or something.”
“She’s a beauty,” Hugh agreed as they made their way through town.
“Still, you shouldn’t have let me drive it.” Bree hadn’t taken her eyes off the road once, and she was an excellent driver.
“It’s just a car.”
Brianna parked in front of her apartment complex. She handed him the keys and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Hugh noticed that her hand was still shaking a little.
“I was so nervous.” She let out a long sigh. “The kiss helped, but oh my God. I was sure I’d wreck it.”
“I had faith in you.”
Hugh surveyed the old brick apartment building. Grass sprouted through fissures in the sidewalk. Stacked boxes and plastic chairs littered the patio of the first-floor apartment to their right. A bearded man with a beer gut hung over the second-floor balcony, watching them walk inside. Hugh put his arm protectively around Brianna, his biceps and neck muscles tense.
“That guy kind of creeps me out,” Brianna whispered.
Hugh stood up tall and threw his shoulders back, then narrowed his eyes and cast a harsh glare at the ogling man.
Brianna’s third-floor apartment was bright and sunny. The white-tiled foyer was clean and, though small, it was functional. There was a small table against the wall with a stack of mail and Layla’s school papers. Beyond the foyer was a cozy living room with glass sliders that led to a small balcony. On the wall between the kitchen and living room was a large black-and-white photograph of a sleeping baby. The light illuminated the baby’s forehead and eyes and then softened as it covered her bundled body.
“That’s a gorgeous picture. Is that Layla?”
“Yeah. I took that when she was three days old. I love that picture.” Brianna’s eyes filled with love, and the edges of her lips curved upward into a sweet smile.
“You took that? Bree, that’s amazing.” He looked at her and wondered what other hidden talents she had.
“Thanks. I haven’t taken pictures in about a year, since my camera broke.”
A fluffy red love seat and sofa created a warm, comfortable nook in the living room. It faced three rows of white bookshelves littered with books, drawings, clay pieces that were obviously made and painted by Layla and photographs of various sizes. Three colorful throw blankets were bundled together in one corner of the couch, and a half-finished game of Candyland was spread out on the cheap wooden coffee table.
“What happened to your camera?” Hugh asked.
“Oh, Layla bumped it off the table when she was playing one day. It’s not a big deal. I mean, I miss taking pictures, but it was just a hobby.”
“By the looks of this picture, it could be much more.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “This is a sweet apartment.” He crossed the floor to the bookshelves.
“Oh, please. It’s a dive, but it’s home. We like it.” She set her purse and keys on a small table by the door.
Hugh picked up a photograph of Brianna and Layla from the bookshelf. “This is a great picture. You look radiant, and Layla is adorable. She looks like a miniature you.”