When We Touch(11)

She's in the guest room asleep. Safe and sound. Get some rest. Big weekend ahead.

He hoped that would bring Kyle some peace.

A return text quickly confirmed that Kyle was still awake, which wasn't a  surprise. If Kyle felt half as torn about his upcoming marriage as  Brandon suspected, he might walk the floor all night.

You better not have touched her.

"So much for trying to do you a favor," he grumbled and scrolled through  his pictures, looking for one his mother had sent him, months ago, from  Thanksgiving. It was a group shot with Kyle and Olivia and the whole  family.

As he stared at her image, at her and Kyle smiling for the camera, he  remembered how difficult it had been to see them together. He didn't  want to sacrifice the life he had, but she'd always been a temptation.  He'd hated the idea that his stepbrother, of all people, would end up  with her, knew it would make every family event a challenge.

The ding signaling another text drew Brandon from his thoughts.

Have you been calling her since we took our break? Did you wait even that long before making your move?

What does it matter to you? he replied. Aren't you getting married this weekend?

Have you been chasing her?

Brandon didn't bother to deny the attraction. Was waiting to see if you  were going to wake up and realize you're screwing up your life.

This time when there was no response, Brandon figured it was just as  well. They weren't close enough to be so up-front with each other. He  leaned over to return his phone to the nightstand-but another message  appeared.

I have no choice.

Propping his pillows behind his back, he typed, Yes, you do. Don't let  your sense of duty drag you into making a bad situation worse.

What about the baby?

What about it? Did you ever think she might've gotten pregnant on  purpose? That she's manipulating you? Brandon wouldn't put it past her.

She's still pregnant. You're telling me you wouldn't even try to create a family?

You can still support the baby, still be a good father regardless. Maybe  it's not optimal to do it single, but you can make it work. That sort  of thing happens all the time.

There was a long wait before the next text came in. Brandon had just  decided Kyle must've gone to sleep when he heard the reply arrive.

Not to me it doesn't. I want my kid to have my name, my presence. I  don't want to be a part-time dad with a stepparent joining the action.
                       
       
           



       
Brandon could sense the resolve in those words. He could easily  understand the sentiment behind them, too. But he was afraid that Kyle's  background and misguided nobility were pulling him into a nightmare of  catastrophic proportions.

So how should he answer? What Kyle did or didn't do wasn't any of his  business. He'd spent the past decade telling himself he didn't really  care about his stepbrother. But … he couldn't help admiring Kyle's  determination to fall on his sword. He was a much better person than  Brandon had ever given him credit for. Maybe Bob had a right to be so  damn proud. Brandon couldn't have made himself marry Noelle.

But no one-even Olivia-knew her the way he did. Although he was trying  to believe she'd grown up and changed, he'd seen her at her worst, when  she was obsessed and unrelenting and so narcissistic he couldn't even  like her. He'd done everything he could to discourage her from pursuing  him eight years ago, to let her know he wasn't interested. But it made  no impact whatsoever. If anything, she became more determined. He'd come  home to find her waiting in his driveway, turn to see her staring in  his window, "bump" into her so many times a day she could only be  following him. He couldn't imagine a woman so out of touch with reality  and the wants and desires of other people being successful in a  marriage, even to a white knight like Kyle, who was willing to do ninety  percent of the work.

I wish you'd listen to me, he wrote. There's something missing in Noelle.

I already know she had a crush on you. She was just being young and stupid and too forward.

Too forward? Her behavior went far beyond that. You're saying the Noelle  she is now would never cross the lines she crossed back then?

Of course not, Kyle responded. Anyway, I could never undo the damage  I've done. I can't go back to Olivia while Noelle has my baby. I might  as well have some integrity and stand up and take responsibility for my  actions.

Brandon wanted to reiterate that he'd be sorry if he married Noelle. But  what good would it do? Kyle had made up his mind and nothing was going  to change it. Then you need to let go of Olivia.

Again, Kyle's answer took a while to arrive. But Brandon waited because he knew it would come.

Won't be easy.

* * *

Olivia woke up to a splitting headache. It took effort just to open her  eyes. Thank God the room was dark. She could see sunlight peeking around  the cracks in the blinds, enough that she could make out an  overburdened desk, a computer, a ship in a bottle and some tribal masks  on the wall-but she didn't recognize any of it. Where was she?

Then it came to her. She'd gotten drunk last night, and Brandon had  brought her home. She could remember him fighting to keep her clothes  on. She could also remember trying to kiss him. She'd wanted him so  badly....

Surprisingly enough, he was the one who'd resisted. "You're not interested?" she'd breathed.

"Not like this, sweetheart," he'd told her and helped her remove only  her shorts before tucking her in. She'd gotten the impression he'd been  tempted despite those words, was fairly certain he'd almost turned back  at the door. But she was embarrassed all the same. Now both of the  Arnold girls had thrown themselves at him.

Kyle's actions had knocked her on her butt and she couldn't seem to get  her legs under her again. She never would've behaved like that  otherwise.

Brandon interrupted her moment of regret with a brisk knock. "Olivia? You awake?"

She cringed at the fact that she was going to have to face him, and so  soon. She'd made a complete fool of herself last night, first by getting  drunk, then by trying to get him into bed. She still wasn't sure what  he'd meant by, "Not like this." Was he saying he didn't want to take  advantage of her while she was under the influence of alcohol? Or that  he didn't want to become a surrogate for Kyle?

She couldn't imagine he'd refrain because of Kyle. Brandon probably  preferred she be in love with someone else. Then he wouldn't have to  worry about her falling in love with him.

"I'm awake, but I'm not very happy about it," she replied.

He poked his head inside. Freshly showered and wearing a black V-neck  T-shirt with a pair of well-worn jeans and flip-flops, he looked better  than ever-which was saying a lot. She wasn't sure what accounted for  that, unless just getting to know him made him more and more attractive.  Maybe it was that she finally had some respect for him, since he'd  rejected her advances.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.                       
       
           



       

She shoved a hand through her messy hair. "Like roadkill."

He chuckled. "I was afraid of that. Would you like something to eat?"

Could her stomach tolerate food? She didn't dare take the risk. "No, but  a pain pill would be nice." She knew he had some; he'd provided it  yesterday. "What time is it?"

"Nearly nine."

"Oh, no!" She shot out of bed, then staggered and nearly fell.

Somehow, he managed to get inside the room quickly enough to catch her and guide her back to the bed.

"I've missed my first appointment," she explained, raising her good hand  to her pounding head. "I was supposed to meet Abby, the event planner  at the Pullman Mansion, at eight. I've got to go!"

He frowned at her. "I don't think you're up to it."

She'd been stupid to drink last night. She wasn't used to that much  alcohol. "I don't have any choice." Her tongue felt thick and unwieldy.  "Have you seen my phone?" She glanced around but couldn't locate it.

"Your purse is out on the counter."

When she started to get up, he pressed her back. "I'll get it."

He returned with a glass of water, two ibuprofen tablets and her purse,  which contained her phone. At least she hadn't left it at the bar last  night. She figured, at this point, she should be grateful for the little  things.

"She's tried to reach me five times," she said as she checked her call  record. "My mother and Noelle have both called twice." She lifted her  eyes to his. "What am I going to tell them?"

"I say you tell them that you're not feeling well and to get by the best they can without you."

"I can't do that! The wedding's tomorrow night." She rubbed her temples,  hoping to mitigate some of the pain. The hand she'd injured was no  longer swollen, but it was still sore, which didn't help with her  hangover.