by Erin Wade
“I thought you were looking for a dinner partner tonight,” Regan managed to say.
“Just you.” Brandy smiled and waved at someone across the room. “I would have kicked Dad to the curb if you’d said yes to my dinner invitation.”
“Your father is extremely handsome. His hair is the same color as yours.” Regan laughed. “I had assumed your hair was the product of a very skillful hairdresser.”
“Either that or Dad and I use the same beauty salon.” Brandy’s impish grin made Regan laugh.
“I’m betting on au naturel.”
“You’d win the bet,” Brandy assured her.
The men returned with their champagne and joined them at the table. Chancellor O’Brien was working the room, making a point to speak to everyone. Matthew and Grayson stood as she approached their table.
“Dr. Shaw,” O’Brien said as she caught Regan’s hand between her own. “It’s a pleasure to have someone of your stature on our faculty. You have brought the university a lot of good press and increased recognition for our creative writing curriculum. I’m an avid fan and can’t wait to read your next book.”
Don’t hold your breath on that book, Regan thought. “Thank you, I’m very proud to be a part of the faculty. You have done some amazing things for the university.”
“Katherine, there are some people here you need to meet,” Grayson said, touching her arm. “May I introduce you?”
“Of course.” She linked her arm through Grayson’s. “Thank you for coming tonight,” she said to them before turning away.
“Go mingle, Matthew. I’m going to sit and visit with Brandy.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Brandy whispered once they were alone. “I have my own car. I met Dad here.”
Regan frowned. “I can’t do that. I can’t walk off and leave Matthew.”
“He’s found the one he wants to be with,” Brandy whispered in her ear. Her warm breath sent shivers down Regan’s spine.
“Brandy, I’m closer to your father’s age than yours,” Regan said, sighing. “You’re my student. I can’t—”
“How old are you?” Brandy demanded.
“Thirty-six,” Regan answered. “Fourteen years older than you.”
“You checked on my age?”
“I was checking your academic record and noticed you are twenty-two”
“Dad’s forty-eight,” Brandy volunteered. “Would you date someone older than you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Dad’s twelve years older than you. Would you find that acceptable?”
“Yes.”
“You’re fourteen years older than me,” Brandy pointed out. “I find that acceptable, but—”
“You’re also a woman.” Regan scowled. “I don’t find that acceptable.”
Brandy jumped back as if Regan had slapped her. “I thought you were a lesbian.”
“You thought wrong,” Regan snapped. She stood and searched the room for Matthew.
“Looks like your date went home with his friend,” Brandy huffed. “Come on, Professor. I’ll give you a lift home.”
Before they could leave, Robin Chase, the women’s athletic director, pulled out a chair at their table. She was taller than most men, with a muscular physique and short, black hair. “Brandy, where’s Joey?” she asked.
“He didn’t receive an invitation,” Brandy said with a smirk.
Robin looked around the room. “Who’s your date? I can’t believe he’d be fool enough to leave you unattended.”
Brandy was slow to answer. “I’m Dad’s plus-one.”
Regan was surprised to see Brandy being cautious. Then she noticed Robin had placed her hand on Brandy’s leg where her dress fell away, exposing her thigh.
“Are you and Joey coming to the team’s beer bust tomorrow night?” Robin asked.
Brandy furrowed her brow. “I won’t be there. I have tutoring.”
“Ridiculous.” Robin pulled her chair closer to Brandy and slipped her arm across the back of Brandy’s chair. The girl stiffened. “Everyone knows you’re a genius.”
“Except in English,” Regan said, jumping into the conversation. “Unfortunately, tomorrow night is the only time I have available to tutor Miss Brandywine. As you know, homecoming week requires all of the faculty’s time.”
Robin scanned Regan as if seeing her for the first time. “Well, aren’t you something?”
“Umm . . . and more your age,” Regan muttered.
Brandy stood. “Come on, Professor. You promised me a ride home since my father has found more interesting company.”
“I can take you home,” Robin volunteered.
“I’ve already had the valet pull my car around,” Regan said. The lie slipped easily through her lips. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Chase.” How appropriate is that name?
Robin caught Brandy’s arm. “You really should accompany Joey to more of the team’s parties. It would help his career.” She leered at Brandy.
“I doubt that Joey’s career needs my help,” Brandy hissed. “He’s pretty spectacular on his own. He does hold the quarterback passing record in the division.” She jerked her arm from Robin’s grasp and caught Regan’s hand. “Let’s go, Professor.”
Regan was surprised to see Brandy’s BMW pulled in front of the valet’s desk.
“I held it here for you, Brandy,” Nathan said.
“You’re the best, Nat.” Brandy palmed a tip to the young man as he opened the door for Regan.
Brandy laughed as she pulled away from the curb. “Who would have guessed that Robin Chase would be my wingman?”
Regan couldn’t keep from laughing at the young woman. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Thank you for saving me from the viper.” Brandy’s solemn expression surprised Regan.
“What’s going on, Brandy?”
“I’m not sure. I know Joey is not happy that everyone keeps pressuring him to bring me to their activities.”
Regan placed her hand on Brandy’s arm. “Please be careful. There is something terribly wrong happening on this campus.”
“I know.”
“Brandy, I find your generation so confusing. You’re practically engaged to Joey, but I know you’re attracted to me.”
“Yeah, I’m not too good at hiding that,” Brandy admitted. “You’re just so damn gorgeous and intelligent and nice. I find that I’m happiest when I’m around you. You engage my mind and my fantasies.”
“Hmm. I would like to be friends with you. You challenge me mentally. No student has ever told me Edgar Allen Poe was boring and validated the statement.”
Brandy pulled her car into Regan’s driveway. She was at Regan’s door as it opened.
Brandy snorted. “So, all you’re interested in is my mind?”
“You do intrigue me.” Regan smiled. “But I’m not—”
Brandy caught Regan’s face between her hands and kissed her. Of its own volition, Regan’s body melted against the other woman, basking in her softness, engulfed by her scent. She let her arms slip around Brandy’s waist and pulled her closer, as Brandy deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around Regan. Dear God, this feels so good, Regan thought.
Brandy’s tongue eased its way past Regan’s lips and pushed between her teeth. Regan pulled her closer as their tongues met for the first time.
Breathless, Brandy released Regan. “You’re not what, Professor?” she murmured, a sly grin slipping across her face.
“Not going to invite you in.” Regan gently pushed her away. “Good night, Brandy.” She hurried up the walk to the security of her home.
Regan closed the door and leaned against it, reliving Brandy’s kiss. No one had ever kissed her like that.
Chapter 9
Regan read the text from her agent. “Have you come to your senses?” She shook her head as she deleted the message.
She was recognized internationally as a top-notch writer and had many best sellers and awards to prove it. Eight of her n
ovels had been made into movies, and her name was on two television series. She felt that she had earned the right to write and publish whatever moved her. Unfortunately, her agent and publisher didn’t agree with her. She was still smarting from their refusal to publish her last novel.
“Publishers don’t like genre hoppers,” her agent had informed her.
“J. K. Rowling changed genres,” Regan had pointed out. “Moving from young adult to murder mysteries.”
“She also changed her name,” her agent reminded her. Rowling’s adult books were written under the name of Robert Galbraith.
Regan didn’t want to change her name. She had spent a lifetime making the name Regan Shaw synonymous with good murder mysteries. She wasn’t going to hide behind a nom de plume just because someone didn’t like her subject matter.
She stared at her laptop screen. This is the book I was destined to write, she thought.
A knock on her office door broke her reverie. “Come in,” she said, closing her laptop.
“I hoped I’d find you here.” Brandy bounced into her office. “Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”
“I thought the bonfire was discontinued years ago.” Regan wrinkled her brow, trying to recall how long ago the practice had been abandoned.
“It’s not school sanctioned,” Brandy said as she sat on the edge of Regan’s desk. “The Greeks sponsor it. All the sororities and fraternities make it happen.”
“Let me guess,” Regan scoffed. “It’s just another excuse for a big, drunken shindig.”
Brandy grinned. “It’s more than that. There’s also a lot of food and dancing and gratuitous sex.”
“I believe I’ll pass on it. Surely you aren’t going?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Brandy chirped. “I love to dance and eat, and who knows . . . maybe I’ll get lucky.”
“As if you have to try.” Regan shook her head in disbelief. “Joey hangs all over you every chance he gets.”
“Who said anything about Joey?” Brandy wiggled her eyebrows. “There’s someone else I want to be gratuitous with.”
“Oh, I see.” Regan looked down at the top of her desk. Her stomach lurched when she thought about Brandy having sex with anyone . . . else.
Where the hell did that come from? she thought.
Brandy scooted along the side of the desk until she was beside Regan. “Go to the bonfire with me, Professor.”
“I . . . don’t think that’s a good idea.” Regan cleared her throat.
“If you don’t go with me, I’ll have Joey crawling all over me. If you’re with me, he’ll behave in public.”
Regan couldn’t stop her head from nodding.
“Awesome!” Brandy clapped her hands and leaned down to hug Regan as the brunette looked up. For the briefest, electrifying moment, their lips met.
Brandy jumped back as if she had been burned. “Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . I only meant to hug you. I’m so—”
“I know it was an accident,” Regan said. “No harm done.” Except that now I can’t get the taste of your lips out of my mind.
“I’ll pick you up at six.” Brandy backed toward the door. “Thank you for . . . everything.”
##
Regan knew she was courting trouble. She couldn’t recall anyone who had attracted her like Grace Brandywine. Brandy was beginning to visit her dreams. The last thing I need is a professor/student scandal.
“Professor?” Agent King said as she stuck her head into Regan’s office. “I was hoping I’d catch you.”
Peyton King made Regan uneasy. She could never tell if King was making polite conversation or covertly questioning her. She motioned for King to have a chair and waited for the agent to state her business.
Peyton looked around Regan’s office. It had a temporary feel to it. Nothing about it was personal. No photos, no knickknacks that belonged to Professor Shaw.
Peyton smiled. “I know this is a bit like a groupie, but I’d be very appreciative if you’d autograph your last book. It’s my favorite.” She pulled a copy of Regan’s latest published novel, Deadly Romance, from her jacket pocket.
Regan couldn’t hide her delight. She loved autographing her books for fans. She pulled her favorite pen from her purse. “What would you like me to say?”
“It’s for a friend.” Peyton blushed. “A special friend. Would you mind writing, ‘The world is perfect when two hearts beat as one?’”
Regan tilted her head and appraised the FBI agent. “I never pegged you as a romantic,” she teased.
“Some people can change your life forever.” Peyton chuckled.
“Yes. Yes, they can.” Regan recalled Brandy’s soft lips brushing against hers. “Unfortunately, it’s not always for the better. Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”
“Yes! Chancellor O’Brien asked me to go, just to make certain everything is under control,” Peyton said. “Are you going?”
“Yes, Grace Brandywine and I are going. I think Joey Sloan is going with us. Why don’t you join us?”
“Thank you for the invite. I’ll meet you there. I have to stay until the last dying ember,” Peyton said, laughing. “I’m sure you’ll want to leave before I do.”
“Are you getting any closer to catching Coach Tucker’s killer?” Regan asked.
Peyton frowned. “No, but at least no one else has died. The heathens calmed down for a while, but homecoming week has fired them up. Three cases of rape have been filed this week.”
“Doesn’t Chief Sawyer handle campus lawbreakers?”
“She’s supposed to, but she seems more intent on protecting the perpetrators than prosecuting them. I don’t know why Katherine . . . uh, Chancellor O’Brien keeps her.”
“I’m sure the chancellor has her reasons,” Regan said. “She seems extremely capable.”
“She is that,” Peyton said. “It would help me tremendously if she’d give me more insight into her employees.”
“I heard she gave you complete access to all personnel files.”
“True,” Peyton mumbled, “but access to files and her thoughts are two different things.”
A bell rang, setting off a stampede of students. “They’re out for the day.” Regan laughed. “Time to get ready for the bonfire.”
Chapter 10
“What do you think?” Brandy beamed as they parked in the field half a mile away from the bonfire. They could see the pile of dead trees, old barns that had been bulldozed, and planks stacked high, waiting to light up the night sky.
“I think it’s going to get hot here tonight,” Regan said.
“All the more reason to drink beer.” Brandy grinned.
“You’re not going to ply me with liquor tonight, are you?”
“Would it help my cause?” Brandy’s impish smile made Regan look away from her glorious green eyes.
I could lose my soul in those eyes, she thought. She stumbled over a clod of dirt in the field, and Brandy caught her.
“Hold my hand,” Brandy said, “at least until we get out of this field. It’s pretty uneven.”
Regan welcomed the closeness of the other woman. Brandy’s hand was strong and her steps confident. She is amazing, Regan thought.
The half-mile hike over uneven terrain passed quickly as the two discussed campus events, laughed, and teased. They clung to each other to keep from falling in the plowed field. Brandy continued to hold Regan’s hand when they reached the caliche-covered area that served as a hard surface for the partiers. Temporary bleachers were set up a safe distance from the bonfire.
Food trucks lined the perimeter of the area, and music blared from a dozen different directions. It looked like half the student body was there, and it wasn’t even dark yet.
“Are you hungry?” Brandy asked hopefully.
“Starved,” Regan replied. “What do you suggest?”
“There’s Tex-Mex, pizza, Italian, Chinese, wraps, tacos, cheese fries, Subway . . . you name it.”
>
“You choose.” Regan laughed. Brandy’s enthusiasm was contagious. Regan was enjoying herself.
“So much great food, so little time,” Brandy said, groaning as if mortally wounded. “How about a Subway? I’m really not a big fan of the greasier fare.”
“Subway sounds great.” Regan tugged on the blonde’s hand, leading her toward the Subway truck.
“Why don’t you grab us a seat at one of the picnic tables?” Brandy suggested. “I’ll battle this crowd for food.”
Regan reluctantly released Brandy’s hand and found a small picnic table away from the milling crowd. Half an hour later, Brandy joined her bearing Subways, chips, and cold drinks.
“Wow! It’s a madhouse up there. I’m glad we arrived early.”
They’d barely gotten started when they heard Joey hailing his girlfriend as he and another man approached them. “Hey, Brandy! I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”
“You convinced me I should support you,” Brandy said as she stood and kissed his cheek.
“Y’all know Coach Clint Wayne, the assistant head coach.” Joey took a huge bite out of Brandy’s Subway.
“Hey, get off my sub.” Brandy wrestled her sandwich away from him. “Go get your own. The truck’s right over there.”
“You never give me anything anymore,” Joey groused as he looked around for the truck. “Want me to get you another one since I ate half of yours?”
“Yeah, that would be the gentlemanly thing to do,” Brandy scoffed.
“Get me a couple too,” Coach Wayne said. “And a couple bags of chips and a beer.” He didn’t offer Joey any money to pay for his order.
Brandy pulled a crumpled twenty from her pocket. “Here, I’ll pay for my own.” She glared at Wayne, who ignored her hint.
Joey grinned at Brandy as he cast a sidelong glance at Wayne. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “He’s a cheapskate.”
“Joey Sloan,” Brandy slapped his arm. “Is that all you think about?” She pretended he’d whispered something risqué to her.
Joey laughed out loud and trotted to the food truck.
“You coming to the beer blast after the bonfire?” Wayne asked the two women.
