When We Touch(2)

       
           



       

Maybe he wasn't quite as handsome as his stepbrother, but his attention wasn't nearly as fleeting, either.

"For you he was completely wrong," Brandon maintained as if he'd been able to see it all along.

The uncertainty she'd always felt in his presence returned. She'd caught  him watching her since that prom. Most of the time he turned away the  second she noticed, but occasionally their eyes met and held, and she  remembered how badly she'd once wished he'd call. "Who would be better?"  she challenged.

Mouth quirking up on one side, he said, "Why don't you follow me to my  place and put yourself back together before you walk into the lion's  den? We can talk about it."

It was a kind suggestion. One she never would've expected-not from him.  But she could guess why he was suddenly so helpful. He'd love nothing  more than to shove a connection with her in Kyle's face.

And therein lay the appeal of his offer....

"Do you think your stepbrother will hear about it if I do?" she asked.

He chuckled softly. "We can make sure of it."

That kind of petty revenge was beneath her. But the idea of turning the  tables on Kyle, and by extension Noelle, was tempting. "He'd hate it,"  she mused. "Whether he's marrying my sister or not." She knew because of  that last call, the apology, the crack in his voice when he'd said he'd  always love her. The memory of it brought fresh tears to her eyes....

A truck was coming up from behind. To get out of its way, Brandon  stepped close enough that she could pick up his scent in the air that  blasted into her car as the truck whooshed by. He smelled as good as he  looked. But that was no surprise. She recalled dancing with him as a  sophomore, pressing her nose into his warm neck in an effort to remember  his scent. She'd instinctively known that was the only part of Brandon a  girl could safely capture.

"He wouldn't want you to be with anyone else, but me least of all," he agreed.

Obviously he liked the idea of upsetting Kyle as much as she did.  Problem was … associating with Brandon came with a certain amount of risk.  For one, the way she was dressed could be misleading. He might assume  she'd changed, become promiscuous, like the girls he usually preferred.  And what if she fell into her own trap? Brandon was like a meteor. He  burned hot and bright as he crashed through a woman's orbit, but he left  a lot of damage in his wake and nothing, no one, slowed him down.  Although some girls welcomed the thrill of trying-he never lacked for  female companionship-Olivia was already nursing a broken heart. She had  no business being alone with this man, especially while she was on the  rebound.

On the other hand, she was tired of trying to turn the other cheek. She  was also tired of being so darn careful with her love life. Kyle was  supposed to have been a wise choice, a man who wanted to settle down and  have a family. And look how well that had turned out. He was having a  family, all right. With her sister. Noelle was pregnant, hence the rush  on the wedding. Her mother wanted Noelle married off before she started  to show.

"Are you coming?" Brandon asked when she didn't answer.

Were they going to be allies? She found that a bit ironic, considering  that, after prom, they'd never even been friends. She'd been one of the  few who'd understood that wanting Brandon would only end in misery. "If I  go to your house, it doesn't mean I'll be sleeping with you," she said,  taking a stab at his motivation for inviting her.

He jammed his fists into the pockets of his baggy shorts. "Kyle won't know that."

Her injured hand was beginning to throb. She should head to her parents'  house, change into something more sensible and make an ice pack. She  was supposed to arrive in time for dinner. But if she showed up there in  the next few minutes, they'd question her about her red eyes even if  she concocted a good excuse for her hand. She couldn't stand the thought  of that, especially if they cornered her in front of Noelle, who would  know exactly what was wrong and take great satisfaction in being the  cause of it.

"Do you have an ice pack?" she asked, finally letting him see her injury.

He slid his sunglasses down to take a look, and she felt the full effect  of those eyes, which were several shades lighter than hazel. "Do I have  an ice pack?"

"You have a lot of them." Of course he did. As a professional skier, he probably needed one often.

"Come with me and you'll feel better in a few minutes. I guarantee it."

She squinted up at him. I think that's what I'm afraid of, she thought but all she said was, "Thanks."                       
       
           



       





Chapter 2



Olivia had never been inside Brandon's house. Kyle had driven her past  it once, when they'd been coming back from a picnic near the old mine.  Brandon had been abroad at the time, or they never would've taken the  chance of running into him. Kyle preferred to have as little contact as  possible. Since then, she'd noticed the turnoff that led to his solitary  cabin whenever she drove up this way to hike or bike. Brandon had  always been a bit of a mystery to her. Or maybe it was just that ever  since she'd sat in front of him in Chemistry she'd felt his magnetism as  much as any girl. There'd even been a few times over the years when  she'd been tempted to swing by his house.

She could understand why he'd like living here, with the peace and quiet  and the spectacular view afforded by one wall made entirely of glass.  His home reminded her of the Swiss Family Robinson Tree House, probably  because it was two stories high and dug out of the mountain-very much a  part of nature. As if that wasn't unusual enough, a telescope held pride  of place in the middle of the living room, beneath a giant skylight.

Most people wouldn't put a telescope in the living room because it would  obstruct their view of the television. But Brandon's TV was in the loft  area above. Down here, various geodes and old weapons, artifacts and  sculptures lined bookshelves that also contained a surprising array of  books, mostly nonfiction. She spotted one on astronomy, another on  Buddhism and a third on the history of China.

"China?" she murmured while he was in the kitchen, getting her some ice.  She'd never taken him for a scholar. Since he made his living as an  extreme skier, he was often videotaped plunging down the steepest slopes  in the world. She thought he was foolish to risk his life doing a thing  like that once, let alone again and again, but there appeared to be  some fringe benefits to his job besides the high pay and adrenaline  rush. Obviously it had taken him to many different countries.

"Are you an art collector?" she called, studying several paintings.

He came into the room carrying the most technically advanced ice pack  she'd ever seen. "Not really. I pick up what appeals to me. Most of it's  from unusual places. I love to travel."

"I can tell." He was consumed by wanderlust. No wonder he'd never, to  her knowledge, become serious about one particular woman. It was tough  to maintain a relationship under such circumstances.

"What about you?" he asked.

She pulled her gaze from a photograph of an African woman holding the  hand of a child in some faraway jungle she'd probably never see. "I  don't get the opportunity very often."

Although she'd been planning weddings and other events since she'd  graduated from Sac State with a degree in business administration,  moving to Sacramento had required she take on some expenses that she'd  never had before. Not only was she living on her own for the first time  since renting a small house with three other girls in college, she'd  leased an office and was paying for advertising in the hope of  attracting new clients. The money she'd saved while living with her  parents once she'd returned to Whiskey Creek needed to be held in  reserve, just in case.

"Would you like to see more of the world if you could?" he asked.

She fingered an elephant carved out of wood. "Absolutely," she replied,  but she wasn't really considering the possibility. She was too  preoccupied wondering how the Brandon suggested by this house could be  so different from what she'd taken him to be, which was much more the  typical jock.

"I'm planning a backpacking trip across Nicaragua in a few weeks." He bent to look into her face. "You could come with me."

The idea of escaping held massive appeal. But she wasn't sure it was a  legitimate offer. Most people didn't extend invitations like that off  the cuff. "You're going across the entire country?"

"Nicaragua's not that big."

"I have a feeling it might seem big if you're walking."

He smiled. "That's the best way to see it."

She didn't know much about South America. She'd always been more  concerned with the geography she navigated right here in  California-especially finding the right place to live after leaving  Whiskey Creek. "I wish I could," she said in a throwaway statement that  took for granted he hadn't been serious.