The last one he touched was a recent piece she had almost taken to the gallery the other morning. It too was plump and curvaceous, a faint tracery of vines suggesting the fecundity that made her nervous. His covert appraisal of her boosted her unease.
“That’s the most recent,” she blurted.
“Huh.”
Oh, good. Now he’d actually said it. She spun around and stalked back into the kitchen.
Brett trailed her. “What’s wrong?”
“Huh may be my least favorite word in the English language.”
“Wherewith is mine.”
She rolled her eyes at his amusement but asked anyway. “Why?”
“Because it leads into a bunch of legal gobbledygook.”
He was really good at making her laugh. “You’re a lawyer! You write legal gobbledygook.”
A smile played around his mouth now. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”
She snorted.
“What’s wrong with huh?”
“It’s evasive.”
“It’s thoughtful,” he argued, taking the cup of coffee she offered.
“It’s a way of avoiding saying what you really want to say. As in, wow, this pot is weird, or, eww.”
“I thought that pot was sexy.” He grimaced. “Wasn’t sure I should say that.”
“Why not? Although I’m not sure ceramics can be sexy.”
“All I know is, those curves,” his hands traced some explicit curves in the air, “made me picture, uh...” His eyes dropped to her body.
She tingled everywhere his gaze touched. She felt like a kiln starting to heat. Ella was very much afraid her nipples were responding to the caressing look.
“Oh,” she said softly, and not so brilliantly.
“Yeah, you know.” With the not-so-articulate addendum, his gaze retraced the same route.
Ella felt herself swaying toward him. Alarm flared. This couldn’t possibly be a good idea. She liked Brett Hollister. Sex would ruin that. It always did.
She said the first thing that came to her mind. “Pregnant, was what I thought.”
He jerked back, his eyes meeting hers. “What?”
“I sort of thought that piece seemed...ripe. Pregnant.”
His expression gave away how appalled he was. “You’re kidding me. You were trying to make it pregnant?”
“No! It just happened,” she explained.
He muttered something she suspected was a profanity. Or worse. “Yeah, that explains most pregnancies.”
Her brow wrinkled. “What do you mean, explains?”
“Just implies an oops.”
For some reason, that annoyed her. “Is that really what you believe? No one has a kid on purpose? Were you an oops?”
The heated gleam was definitely gone from his eyes. Pregnant was so not a sexy word to a single guy. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. I have two older sisters, maybe my parents never meant to have three kids.”
“Did you feel like an oops?”
His face became expressionless. The silence stretched just a little too long. “It...never occurred to me. I have great parents. I’m lucky.”
She didn’t say a word.
After a moment his mouth twisted. “I’ve spent a lot of years trying to impress my father. There’s some reason I never succeed, but I don’t know what it is.”
“That’s why you’re practicing a kind of law you’re not sure you believe in anymore,” she blurted out, going on instinct.
His eyes met hers. “I’m...starting to think so.”
“Maybe we’re all mixed up about our parents.”
Brett grunted and shook his head. “Compared to you, I have nothing to complain about. My parents really are great. I’m sorry you don’t have the same.”
She bowed her head. “I wish I did, too.”
“Listen.” He stepped forward and lifted her chin. They stared at each other. After a minute a cross between a sigh and a groan escaped him and he shook his head. “Never mind. I should go. I’ll see you in the morning, though, okay?”
Ella nodded and tried to smile.
His eyes searched hers, although she had no idea what he was looking for. He bent forward and kissed her lightly. His lips were incredibly soft, pressing just hard enough. She felt the contact so acutely her toes curled.
The next minute, he was gone. Hearing the front door close behind him, she touched her fingertips to her lips, wishing she could recapture that tender kiss.
* * *
BRETT WAS NOT thrilled later that evening when his phone rang and he saw that it was his father. They hadn’t had a friendly talk since the birthday party debacle. Plus, he knew his father would have gotten a behind-the-scenes report on the trial and the rest of Brett’s colorful week.
He grunted and picked up the phone anyway. There were some people he could dodge long term, but his father wasn’t one of them.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Where are you? Maui?”
The sarcasm made him tense and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d have let you know if I was going out of town.”
“You didn’t let me know you fell on your face on Monday.”
Okay, now he was pissed. “You mean my client was convicted.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Glad you’re ready to give me the benefit of the doubt.”
That led to a pause. Then his father asked, “Do you deserve it?”
“Are you asking if I screwed up?” Brett saw red. “No. I didn’t. Could I have done better? Probably. Is the world better off because the jerk actually got convicted? Yeah. Don’t tell me you’ve never felt the same way. Maybe wondered if you’d given your best, but couldn’t help being glad you didn’t.”
“McGuinn called.” His father sounded a little more hesitant. More like a father, and less like a surrogate partner in the firm. “He’s not impressed with your taking time off now.”
So, okay, he wasn’t going to admit to any weakness.
Angry, Brett was in no mood to explain. “You planning to report back to him?” He pitched his voice to be flippant, very aware that it would irritate his father. “In that case, you can tell him I’m doing some serious thinking.” He ended the call and tossed his phone back on the kitchen counter.
When five minutes of pacing didn’t settle him, he grabbed his workout clothes and took the elevator down to the fitness center. He planned on using the elliptical or maybe running some hard miles on the treadmill, but he got lucky and ran into another resident. They played a vicious game of racquetball that left him both wrung out and a hell of a lot calmer.
He wasn’t proud of his behavior. His father had always been on his side. He understood that. Dad expected the best from his son, and it wasn’t his style to be gentle and encouraging. Brett knew who to thank for his drive and aggression, and their similar personalities meant they butted heads sometimes. Lately, though, he’d needed a dad, not a stand-in law-firm partner. Someone who would really listen if he expressed his doubts.
I’ve been angry at him, he realized. Feeling as if he had to measure up in a way he wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore.
Fine moment to realize this was why he’d “forgotten” Mom’s birthday party. He was ashamed to figure out that he had let his own internal tangle, his resentment of the man who’d loomed so large in his life, keep him away from home and family. Yeah, I hurt Mom because I was sulking.
He grimaced.
One thing was for sure: he had to tell Dad and Nial McGuinn that he was no longer in kindergarten. If the senior partner was going to continue reporting to Brett’s daddy, then Brett would be moving to a new firm. A new city, if necessary.
Too late to call Dad back tonight, he saw with a
glance at the clock when he let himself back into his condo. Maybe tomorrow he and Ella would find her car and he would be coming off a triumph when he had that conversation with his father.
A strange thought came to him, though, as he lay in bed waiting for sleep. What he’d said to his father might have been facetious, but it might also be the truth. He felt as if he were steadying himself, remembering who he was and what was really important to him. Family. The people he loved. Going to bed every night with the belief he was making the world a better place. Justice.
Huh.
It wasn’t so much a word as a breath of air, but it made him grin when he remembered Ella’s indignation. He was still smiling when he finally did fall asleep.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY was more of the same.
A sense of hopelessness had begun to envelop Ella. She wasn’t wasting only her time, but Brett’s, as well. Her police contact had sounded bored that morning when he’d told her, No, ma’am, her vehicle had not yet been located. What she ought to do was nag her insurance agent into issuing a check, start hunting for a used car to replace the Subaru and email Rachel and Jo with the bad news.
The only reason she hadn’t was Brett. His determination kept her believing a happy ending was possible, even as they drove around for hours with no results.
The way they never ran out of things to talk about was their salvation. Ella had been on dates when she started sneaking peeks at her watch half an hour after joining the guy for coffee or whatever. When she mentally added up the hours she and Brett had spent together, she was shocked to realize how much she still wanted to know about him. The feeling seemed to be mutual.
And now sexual attraction had definitely been added to the mix. The first day, she had been too upset to think much about Brett beyond being grateful for his willingness to help her and for his persistence.
Now she found herself constantly sneaking glances at him. She loved his face in profile—okay, head-on, too, but she saw his profile more often. The nose she’d initially thought looked too big was really just right. Strong, that’s all. It went with the prominent bone structure that would keep his face compelling even as he aged and added more flesh. There was the crooked smile, the way the skin crinkled beside his eyes that sometimes were unnervingly perceptive.
Oh, and he had great hands, big and long-fingered, with well-manicured nails. Sinews and veins stood out, but they weren’t hairy the way some men’s were. They were expressive, too—he vented plenty of his stress through them.
She couldn’t believe a guy as sexy as he was didn’t have a girlfriend, but she hadn’t quite worked up the courage to confirm that he was single. He didn’t have the same qualms, though. They’d stopped for deli sandwiches at a little place in the neighborhood where they were concentrating their search and were eating at a tiny table set on the sidewalk beneath a maple tree with spreading branches.
“You seeing anyone these days?” he asked, not sounding quite as casual as he’d probably been trying for.
Ella’s cheeks flushed. “No. It’s been a while.”
“Really?” His incredulity was plain, and undeniably flattering. “Why?”
“For one thing, I’m self-employed. I mostly get out to take my work to galleries, and that’s it.” She tore a bit of the crust off her bread and began to crumble it. “Friends introduce me to guys sometimes, but...” She shrugged. “What about you?”
“I was dating a woman until a couple months ago. Nothing really serious.”
“What happened?”
His expression was odd. “I guess I ignored her too often, or didn’t return enough phone calls, or something. She said I was undependable.”
Which had really stung, Ella could tell. And, oh by the way, answered the big question she’d been asking herself.
“That’s why you’re doing this, isn’t it?” Her gesture encompassed herself and his Corvette. Why did she not like this new understanding? “Trying to prove to yourself that she was wrong.”
Some moments he was boyishly open, and then there were moments, like now, when he was very much a man, skilled at guarding his thoughts and emotions.
“It might have started that way.”
She waited for the rest. He resumed eating. After a few minutes he lifted his eyebrows at her.
“I’m almost done, and you’ve hardly started.”
“Oh.” Dammit, her cheeks were heating again—and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed before today. “Sorry.” She focused on her meal, trying not to be so aware of him sitting across the table from her, seemingly totally relaxed.
“The last few days have made me realize,” he said out of the blue, when she reached for her cookie, “that she wasn’t very important to me. I’d feel a little irritated sometimes when she left a message. There was an imbalance. She wanted me to be a bigger part of her life than I wanted her to be of mine. I didn’t handle it the best way I could have, but it’s good that it came to a head.”
“It’s good for me.”
“No.” Now those gray eyes were steady on her face. “It wouldn’t have made any difference. I’d have wanted to stick with this—with you—no matter what once we started.”
Oh, heavens was all she could think. What could she say to that?
She gave him a shaky smile. “I’m really lucky it was you I ran into.”
“No.” His voice had dropped to a lower timbre. “I was the lucky one.” After a moment, as if nothing significant had happened, he asked, “You ready to go?”
She nodded and dropped her napkin on her plate, but her thoughts were churning as they returned to the car. She wished she could take him at face value, but how could she? If she was so amazing, other men would have noticed.
Her own father would have noticed.
Ella frowned, because part of her knew she wasn’t to blame for her father’s coldness. But still... There had to be a catch, a reason Brett was helping her, and eventually she’d find out what it was.
CHAPTER SIX
ELLA HAD NOTICED that when Brett’s phone rang, he mostly glanced to see who the caller was and ignored it. Late that afternoon when it rang, he glanced, frowned and answered, steering at the same moment to the curb. “Mom?”
As his mother talked, Ella saw his expression change into something she could only call stricken.
“Where? Okay, yeah. I’m on my way,” he said, and set the phone down. He looked at Ella. “Dad may have had a heart attack. She’s following the ambulance to the hospital. I need to go, too.”
Ella’s heart squeezed. “Oh, Brett.” She reached out to touch his forearm, corded with tension. “Where is he?”
“Swedish Medical Center.”
“Drop me anywhere and I’ll take a bus home.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. When he did, he sounded uncertain. “Is there any chance you’d come with me?” His shoulders moved uneasily. “If it drags on, you can take off.”
“Are you sure you want me there?”
Filled with fear, his eyes met hers. “Yeah. But if you’d rather not—”
“Don’t be silly. Of course I want to be there.”
“Okay.” He bent his head for a moment. “Thanks.” He let out a long breath. “My dad. Oh, man. What am I sitting here for?”
He drove fast, but carefully. When they got stuck at red lights, his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. Once parked at the hospital, she had to trot to keep up with him. They burst into the E.R. He scanned the waiting room then headed straight for the counter.
“Don Hollister. He came in by ambulance.”
They had to wait five minutes before a nurse came out to get them.
“His room’s getting crowded,” she said cheerfully.
She was right. His father was p
ropped in a near-sitting position in the bed, bare-chested and covered with electrodes. A technician was wiring him up, and Ella recognized that Brett’s father was getting an EKG. An older woman hovered nearby, along with a younger woman accompanied by a man who couldn’t be over forty. He stood to one side, looking anxious.
Every single gaze turned to Brett and Ella when they entered. Ella would have hung back if Brett hadn’t been holding her hand as if that grip was all that sustained him.
For an instant nobody moved. Only the technician went back to his monitor. The other four people stared in obvious astonishment at Brett and Ella.
“Dad!” Brett exclaimed. “Hey, you don’t look too bad.”
His father gave a rueful smile that reminded Ella of Brett’s. “They gave me nitroglycerin when I got here. Did wonders.”
Brett’s mother, an attractive, pleasantly plump woman with a short crop of curly brown hair, came around the foot of the bed to hug Brett and smile at Ella.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
He did. His mother’s name was Helen. The young woman was one of his sisters, Grace, and the man at her side was her husband, Tony.
Grace said hi, then shook her head in apparent bemusement. “You brought a girlfriend.”
Ella tried to shrink toward the door. “It really is crowded in here. I don’t have to...”
Brett hauled her to his side. “Don’t let them embarrass you.”
His dad’s laugh sounded like Brett’s, too. “Brett’s right. It’s just that he surprised us. I don’t remember him ever bringing a girlfriend home to meet the family before.”
Her eyes widened. “But I’m not...”
Brett’s murmur in her ear wasn’t much more than a vibration. “Yeah, you are.”
She was? Unable to look at him, Ella quivered in surprise. Oh, dear God, had he actually meant what he’d implied at lunch? Was it possible that she wasn’t alone in all the surprising, worrisome emotions she’d been feeling?
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