by Leanne Banks
Brick covered her lips with one finger. The honest expression in his eyes was so beautiful, it hurt. “But it was. There’s too much I didn’t learn about you that I still want to know.”
Her heart twisted. Acutely sensitive to that slight touch of his finger against her lips, she swallowed hard. “You knew everything there was to know.”
He shook his head. “I knew the mechanics. I want to know the secrets you’ve never told anyone. I want to know the fantasies you’ll barely admit to yourself.”
He asked too much. She made herself pull back. “You never seemed interested in trading secrets before,” she said in a voice that quivered the way her insides did. “You always wanted things light and easy.”
“Maybe things are different now.”
An overwhelming sense of fear and desperation tore at her. “You said we’re friends now.”
“And we always will be,” he said as if making a solemn vow.
She’d told him what she wanted! She’d laid her cards faceup on the table for him to see, and he’d walked away. Lisa couldn’t say it again. It hurt too much. She felt battered and bruised and didn’t want her hopes raised again. If she had any sense, she’d turn away from him, but the fact of the matter was that Brick had never been so intent with her before. It was almost as if he wanted to give her everything she wanted, but something inside him prevented it. If Lisa were a fool, she’d guess that he was fighting himself far more than he was fighting her. If Lisa were a fool, she’d guess that he needed her.
“Tell me, Lisa.”
She felt her heart shift as if she’d slammed into a tailspin on ice. Her head said get a grip, while her emotions played tag from one end of the spectrum to the other.
The elevator jerked. Lisa glanced at the numbers at the top of the car. It was fixed, she concluded. They would be able to get out in a moment. She would be able to escape Brick’s compelling, needful gaze. She would be able to escape her own conflicting feelings.
For the moment, however, her eyes were drawn back to him. The atmosphere between them was charged with intimacy, and she felt, for no logical reason, like a cheater. He’d revealed something of himself to her, and she hadn’t followed suit.
She hadn’t agreed to tell him anything, she told herself, but it still didn’t sit well.
Lisa couldn’t tell her deepest longings, of wanting a man who would love her to distraction, of wanting a man who would give her babies and forever. Her heart jerked at the mere thought.
Damn you, Brick. She sucked in a deep breath and stared straight into his violet eyes. “You want to know one of my secret fantasies?” she whispered harshly. “I’ve always wanted to do it in an elevator.”
Instantly, his gaze darkened and he reached for her. At his first touch a spasm of wanting shook her to her soul, and she realized she could have done something very foolish if the timing had been different.
The elevator doors slid open.
Lisa jerked her gaze from Brick’s, swallowed hard and thanked her lucky stars that fate and the maintenance men had saved her from making a fool of herself again.
The following Friday night, Brick found himself staring at a choice cut of prime rib and thinking about elevators instead of enjoying his meal.
“Oh, Brick, come out, come out wherever you are,” Carly said in a singsong voice.
Brick jerked his head up and saw Jarod, Troy, Carly and Russ looking at him expectantly. They’d driven up to join him for dinner. He suspected they’d also come because they were concerned about him. Brick knew he hadn’t been himself lately. He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
Carly sighed. “Is it Lisa again?” she asked in a low voice.
He lifted his drink and took a deep swallow. Although he usually detested the idea of exposing his feelings, at the moment he was too tired to give a royal rip. If his brothers bugged him too much, he was liable to forget his daddy’s training and tear into them. “She’s out on a blind date tonight.” He took another swallow and grimaced. “Someone her wild business partner Senada found. Someone they call Mr. Perfect.”
Brick wanted to chew glass.
Troy lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “You two looked as if you were getting along fine at the fair last week.”
“That was last week. I haven’t seen her since. She’s been busy.” God, that hurt.
Jarod frowned. “Seemed like you two were going at it pretty hot and heavy there for a while.”
Brick set his beer down. “We were.”
“Why did things cool off?”
Brick sucked in a deep breath of air. His privacy was extremely important to him. It was one of the reasons he’d moved away from Beulah County. But Lisa’s decision to keep him at arm’s length had become a thorn in his side, and he’d gotten to the point where he didn’t know what he was fighting for or against anymore.
“She wanted to get married,” he admitted. “I wasn’t ready.”
Troy shrugged. “Sounds like a no go to me. You don’t want to get saddled with a pushy woman.”
Carly scowled. “Troy! Lisa didn’t seem pushy to me. Maybe she’s simply a woman who knows what she wants. What’s wrong with that?”
Russ laid a hand on Carly’s clenched one. “Nothing, but most men don’t like ultimatums.”
“Yes, and a lot of men besides you want a committed woman at the same time that they want their freedom.”
Brick shook his head. “It wasn’t that way. I didn’t go out with anyone else once I started seeing Lisa.”
Jarod leaned forward. “Then why not marry her?”
Brick’s stomach turned over, and he pushed his plate away. “I don’t want to get married.”
“Ever?” Troy asked. “I don’t want to get hitched for the next ten or fifteen years, but I guess I might settle down by the time I’m forty.”
“If you can find someone who’ll have you,” Carly muttered.
Troy glared at his sister. “Well, I’ve got fifteen years to do just that.”
Impatient with the flippant exchange between Carly and Troy, Brick looked at Jarod. Although Jarod was younger than Brick, he respected him. Jarod was the quiet, deep thinker who was currently involved in an illicit affair with the recently divorced daughter of a Beulah County doctor. The affair was at odds with the steady personality of his brother. “What about you?”
Jarod gave an ironic grin. “I’m not sure I’ll ever find someone who wants me.”
Carly rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. What about Clarice Douglass or Amy Burkmeir or—”
“Someone who wants me—who I want too,” Jarod clarified. “But I don’t think that’s what Brick is talking about, is it?”
Brick rolled his shoulders restlessly. “I don’t know. Don’t you ever get a sick feeling in your gut at the thought of marriage? What about you, Russ? Did you ever worry that you’d get trapped in something you hated?”
Russ thought for a moment and shook his head. “I wasn’t afraid of marrying Carly. I think I was more afraid of being in love with her and depending on her.”
“Same thing,” Brick said.
Russ shook his head again. “No. For me the commitment wasn’t the issue. I wanted her committed to me if I had to hog-tie her to do it.” He grinned wickedly. “At one point I did threaten to tie her up, but—”
“Russ Bradford!” Carly’s face flamed. “Honestly, do you think you could keep our private life out of one discussion?”
Russ wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Sorry, honey,” he murmured in a voice that said he wasn’t.
Troy shifted in his seat. “Jeez, could you guys cool it?”
“Gamophobia,” Jarod said suddenly.
Brick stared at his brother again. “Gamowhat?”
“I read about it in a magazine in the dentist’s office. Gamophobia is a fear of marriage or commitment. The symptoms include shortness of breath, nausea and an unexplained panic at the mere mention of marriage.” He lifted his hands. “I’m no shrink, but you might
want to look into it.”
Brick felt his whole world dip and sway. “Gamophobia?” he repeated in disbelief. It couldn’t be, he thought. A phobia? Not him. Absolutely, positively not him. “What else did it say?”
“That men suffered from this particular phobia more often than women and that it’s treated with some of the same techniques people use to get over claustrophobia, fear of flying and other phobias. It said something about how it correlates with other intimacy issues, but I didn’t get to read the whole article.”
Brick’s stomach rolled again. “Treated,” he said in distaste.
“Yeah,” Jarod said thoughtfully, lifting his beer to his mouth. “By a psychologist.”
Brick spent the rest of the evening trying to grasp the idea of gamophobia. The whole thing sounded like a bunch of crap designed by psychologists to get more money out of people. Sure, he’d had a few little fears, but he’d always dealt with them or found a way around them. On the occasions he’d used explosives to accomplish a demolition job, his attitude had been one of respect rather than fear. There was no place for nerves when a man was blasting a rock foundation in a matter of seconds. That situation, like most of his jobs, called for planning, preparation and expertise.
If pressed, Brick would have to say he got a rush when a challenging job was completed.
If pressed to discuss his feelings about marriage, however, Brick would have to say he broke into a cold sweat. Which left him with an uneasy suspicion.
On Saturday afternoon after he checked one of his job sites, he drove to the local library to prove to himself that gamophobia didn’t apply to him.
Three hours later, he left the library more troubled than ever. The summer heat was stifling inside his Thunderbird even with the T-top down. He started the ignition, flicked the air conditioner on max and sat there.
He missed her.
It was far more than physical, he was learning, and he was surprised he hadn’t realized it before. He missed the way they’d sat together and watched a sports game. She was always getting her terms mixed up, he remembered with faint humor. She couldn’t tell a run from a field goal, and she’d been known to make him miss a great play because she had asked him to explain something at a crucial moment. The night before he’d watched a Braves game, and it hadn’t been nearly as much fun without Lisa.
She’d taken the joy, he realized. Joy was a hokey word, but it described what being with her meant to him.
He’d heard a kid banging out “Chopsticks” on a television commercial and remembered when she’d tried to make his broad hands hammer out that same song at a party they’d gone to last winter.
Looking at his hands, he felt that yawning ache again. He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel and thought about the conversation he’d had with his family. One comment Carly had made about Russ stuck in Brick’s mind. As they were leaving Brick had joked with Carly to let him know if Russ ever stepped out of line.
She’d laughed and said, “Not likely.” Then her expression had turned serious. “You know, he’s always been there for me. Good or bad. And especially when times were tough.” She’d smiled. “Guess I’m pretty lucky.”
Brick thought both of them were lucky, along with Daniel and Sara, and Garth and Erin. It was strange how much he wanted to be with Lisa, yet the thought of marriage still made him feel sick. Gamophobia.
Brick shook his head, refusing to think about it anymore. He couldn’t do a damn thing about it today, anyway. He could, however, start being there for Lisa. He was at a loss when it came to romantic gestures and writing gushy poems, but he could handle being there.
He remembered Lisa was overseeing a party. Checking his watch, he realized he had a few hours to kill, so he decided to get her a birthday present. He moved the car into gear and frowned at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Better late than never. So he hoped.
Lisa pulled into a parking space near her apartment and rested her head on the steering wheel. It had been a wretched day from beginning to end. Her body ached from head to toe. Tired to the point of being dizzy, she considered curling up in the seat and spending the night right there.
A gentle thump-thump sounded on her window. She jerked upright and saw Brick. For a moment, she wondered if she was imagining things.
“Are you okay?”
Even through the closed window, she heard the concern in his voice. Her heart clutched. No. Lisa turned her head in an indecisive circle, but lowered her window, and flipped the automatic locks. She took a calming breath. “C’mon in. I’m trying to get my fourth wind, so I can crawl to my door and collapse in bed.”
Instead of joining her in the car, he crouched down beside her window. “Sounds as if you had a rough day.”
This time Lisa nodded emphatically.
“You look tired.” He rose and opened her door, flipped the locks again and rolled up her window. “Wanna ride to your apartment?”
Confused, Lisa looked at the curb directly in front of her car. “I think I’m already here.”
Brick gave a slow grin and shook his head. “I’ll carry you.”
Lisa’s eyes rounded as she grabbed her purse and slid one foot out of her car. “No, no, no, no. I’m too tall, too heavy, too—”
“Not for me.” Pulling her up into his arms, he nudged the car door shut with one knee and walked toward her front door.
Totally flustered, Lisa pushed at his chest while her purse dangled beneath her. It was unsettling enough that she was being carried, but the other feelings that assaulted her because she was in Brick’s arms again overwhelmed her. “You really didn’t have to—”
“Where’s your key?” he asked, ignoring her protests.
He’d probably forgotten that she weighed a ton, she thought glumly. “You can put me down now.” Lisa jiggled her keys from the side pocket of her purse. “You can put—”
“Inside,” he told her, waiting while she fumbled with the key.
He pushed the door open, turned on the hall light and walked toward the living room. When he still didn’t put her down, she became acutely aware of his heart pounding against her hand. “Brick,” she said in a strained voice, “please put me—”
He set her down on the sofa. “There. I didn’t break a sweat and I’m not breathing heavy,” he mocked.
“Don’t blame me if you get a hernia,” she muttered, still feeling self-conscious.
“You worry too much.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a small woman.”
His gaze instantly trapped hers. “I noticed.” His voice lowered intimately. “But maybe you’ve forgotten how much I noticed.”
Lisa got a strong indication that he wouldn’t mind showing her all over again. Her skin suddenly felt flushed with heat.
“It’s no difficulty having you in my arms, Lisa. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a small man,” he arrogantly echoed her earlier statement. “Anytime you need someone to carry you, let me know.”
As if she could forget anything about his body! The image was branded on her brain. Lisa put a clamp on her imagination. “I hope I won’t be needing anyone to carry me anywhere.”
He shrugged. “If you want to be carried, I’m capable of that too.” He grinned slyly. “You think I deserve a star for that?”
She should give him a star for driving her crazy. Lisa gave him a dark look.
“Don’t answer that. What do you want to drink?”
She sat up, abruptly aware that she was letting a guest serve her in her own house. Her upbringing wouldn’t allow it. He’d flustered her so much, she’d forgotten her manners. “Oh, no. I can get it. I—”
Brick’s hands fastened on her shoulders, holding her in place. His violet gaze was intent, yet gentle. “You’re tired, remember? I’m getting you something to drink,” he said firmly. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want to be rude.”
“You’re not.”
“My mother would have my head.�
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Brick leaned closer and whispered, “I promise I won’t tell her.”
Lisa’s lips twitched at the conspiratorial expression on his face. Caught between wanting to argue and give in, she surrendered, sinking back on the pillows and covering her face with one hand. “Okay. You win. Thank you for carrying me. And I’d love some lemonade?”
He squeezed her shoulders, then stood. “Sit tight.”
Kicking off her shoes, she watched him go out the front door and wondered why he’d gone back outside. She was also starting to wonder why he’d shown up at all when he quickly returned with a small wrapped box.
“Just a minute,” he called as he went into the kitchen.
A moment later he entered the living room with the lemonade and the box. He presented her with both and nicked on a small table lamp. Lifting her feet, he sat at the other end of the sofa. “Happy birthday, Lisa.”
Lisa’s heart contracted. She stared at the gaily wrapped present. “But—”
“I know it’s late, but if I’d had any idea your birthday was coming, I would have wanted to be a part of it. I still do.”
Lisa set the lemonade on a coaster, and her gaze flew to Brick’s. “I don’t know what to say.”
He shrugged. “Why don’t you open it?”
With a strange sense of nervousness, she tugged the ribbon and paper loose, then lifted the top off the box. Nestled inside were exquisitely crafted cut-crystal figures of a mother deer and her fawn.
Lisa held her breath for a long moment. There was a significance to the gift. Brick had always told her she reminded him of a doe because of her big eyes and sometimes shy nature. She didn’t like for strangers to use pet names with her, but when Brick did, it somehow felt different. The figures were beautiful, reminding her afresh of her desire for her own baby. She could speculate that the nature of the gift meant that Brick had at least accepted her desire to have a child even if he couldn’t be a part of it.
That thought tore at her. Too many poignant emotions pulled her in different directions. She felt an overwhelming urge to cry. Clearing her throat, she carefully set the figurines on the sofa table. “They’re beautiful, Brick. Just beautiful.”
