Don't Look Back

by Wendy Vella

  “I’m not a good dancer.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “My mother forced plenty of lessons on me, but nothing ever stuck.”

  “You look good to me.”

  “That’s nice, but not the truth.”

  “You calling me a liar, Miss Macy?”

  “I can’t hear the beat, you see, so yes I am.”

  Her face screwed up in concentration as she listened.

  “I’ve tried, really, but I’m tone deaf.”

  Brad wasn’t someone who laughed a lot—mostly he was a serious guy—but she’d managed it, twice.

  “Let me show you the beat.” Brad took her hand and placed her palm against his chest. “When I tap your hand, you move.”

  Ignoring the spike of heat her touch was causing through his shirt, he tapped her hand in time to the music. She stepped on his toes, face-planted into him, and by the end was laughing so hard she was crying.

  “See, hopeless case.”

  “You’re not trying.” Brad steadied her again, his hands on her small waist, enjoying the feel of her curves. “You’ve decided you can’t and that’s it. Relax and let me lead you.”

  “I’m trying!”

  “Seriously?”

  “Deadly.”

  “Okay, let’s try something else.” Brad took both her hands in his. “I’ll steer you around.”

  It was better, but not a whole lot.

  “I’m never going to dance for the Rockettes.”

  “Not sure what they are, but it’s never too late.”

  “They’re a famous dance company.”

  “Okay, so possibly not,” he said when she bumped into him again. Not that he minded. His body certainly didn’t.

  “So, I'm guessing you're one of these Howlers I've heard so much about?”

  “I am. Born and raised here.”

  “Are you all really untrusting of strangers, and a person has to live here for at least ten years before they are accepted?”

  Her laugh was a small huff of breath, and Brad had the urge to pull her closer. Instead, he eased back.

  “That sounds about right. Although we're shallow too. We accepted Branna, who writes as Rosanna Howlling, and her dad, DJ O'Donnell, right off because they're famous.”

  “That O'Donnell was the DJ O'Donnell?”

  She nodded.

  “And Branna is Rosanna Howlling.”

  Brad whistled. Reading was something he'd come to late, but he wouldn't be without a book now, and had read a few O'Donnell books late into the night when he should have been sleeping.

  “I can see how you'd hold on to them.”

  Her laugh was more a giggle this time.

  “It helps that they’re nice people.”

  The woman smelled soft and sinfully sexy.

  “You be nice to my girl here, brother.”

  Ethan bumped hips with Brad, and he felt a jolt at the contact. Ethan had always been way more comfortable with demonstrative gestures than the rest of the Gelderman siblings.

  “She's special, this one.”

  He managed a nod, but didn't add any words. Annabelle then draped an arm around his neck, and Brad felt like he'd broken out in a rash. All this touching was unsettling.

  “What's with you people?” he muttered before he could stop himself.

  “What's the problem, brother? You don't like being touched?” his new sister-in-law asked.

  “Not so much, and I don't remember you at the dinner table.”

  “We're related through marriage now, Brad, so suck it up,” she said, planting a smacking kiss on his cheek before she fell into her new husband's arms.

  “They're happy and want everyone to be the same,” Macy said, moving closer to him, close enough that he could read the expression in her eyes. “Spare a thought for me, I'm surrounded by them. Nearly all my friends are paired up. It's just me and a couple of others left now.”

  Her words may have been light, but he was sure there was some longing in there too.

  “It’s not for me,” Brad said, watching his brother kiss his new wife. “I’m not the marrying kind.”

  “I thought I was, turns out I was wrong.”

  “Just because it didn’t work the first time, doesn’t mean it won’t the second.”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t want to feel that miserable again.”

  She wasn’t looking at him; her eyes were on Ethan and Annabelle.

  “I don’t know anything about marriage, or being in a relationship, but I don’t think everyone is miserable.”

  “I know that, Brad. But I was, and don’t want to repeat that anytime soon.”

  “Did that happen much, you being unhappy?”

  “Sure, but it doesn’t now.”

  “I’m sorry someone made you feel that way, Macy.” He touched her shoulder, making her look at him, and he saw the sadness in her face. “Was it all bad?”

  “Don’t pay any attention to my ramblings.” She tried to distract him. “I’ve had two glasses of wine.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  They danced a few steps and then she spoke. Her voice was soft, forcing him to lean closer to hear.

  “It was a train wreck.”

  She didn’t need to say anything else, those words covered it.

  “I'm sorry.” And he was, because he hadn't known this woman long, but he didn’t like to think of her hurting.

  “It's okay, I'm way better now, and soon I'm going to be the person I want to be.”

  She was a long way from drunk, but the few glasses she'd had had loosened her tongue.

  “Okay, so we can slow dance or wait for a faster one,” Brad said as the music changed. He wanted her to tell him she was done, because holding her would only increase the tension building inside him.

  Macy looked uncertain, and then she gave him a serious look and stepped closer.

  “I'm game if you are.”

  “It would certainly give your friends a new conversation topic.”

  “There is that, plus I get to dance with a hot guy who will make sure I don’t make a complete fool of myself.”

  “There’s that, the last part anyway.”

  Brad took her small hand in his, and placed his other on her spine. She stepped closer and her lovely body brushed against his, ratcheting up his tension another notch.

  “You think I'm hot, even surrounded by these guys.” Brad looked at Jake McBride, Ethan, and a few others. They all had a presence, something about them that made a person take a second look.

  He fought the urge to touch her cheek as she studied him. Her skin looked like satin, smooth and soft.

  “Oh you can hold your own, believe me. Especially with that bad boy, biker, scruffy look you have going on.”

  “Willow just said that.”

  Brad looked at the couple who had drawn level with him and Macy. The man had spoken. There was a definite edge to the look he gave Brad.

  “I did, and it's true, Brad. Could I draw you sometime, you look almost warrior-like.”

  Willow was a bit taller than Macy, with a sweet smile and lovely eyes that he couldn’t quite describe in this light, but he didn't think he wanted to get closer to check them out, or her man may bite.

  “Ah, sure, if I'm here.”

  “Brad, meet Buster Griffin and Willow Harper. They run the Hoot café, and Willow is an artist,” Macy said.

  Willow smiled, Buster gave him a look, and then they danced away.

  “Are her eyes lavender?”

  “They are, and amazing.” Macy’s mouth was inches from his, and he couldn't stop looking at the soft pink pout.

  “So, Macy, has Billy gone home with Declan?”

  Another couple had drawn up alongside. The guy who spoke was taller than Buster, his hair the color of copper, and he was giving Brad the same look. The woman had dark hair, great bone structure, and seemed a whole lot friendlier.

  “Brad, meet Sheriff Hawker and De
tective Katie McBride.”

  “Hi.”

  “You take care with our girl there, Brad. We don’t want anything to happen to her.”

  “As we’re in a room filled with people who are her friends, I'm not sure how that's going to happen, Sheriff.”

  “I know people, Brad, and what they can do.”

  “Just ignore him,” Katie said, “he's like this with everyone new in town.”

  “Must be hard, considering the amount of tourists.”

  The sheriff grunted something and moved on.

  When the third couple danced up, Brad decided he was no longer seeing the funny side. In fact, he was downright offended.

  “You want to call off your protectors?”

  “They're just looking out for me.” Macy sighed. “When my marriage ended, they all stepped forward to care for me, and they’ve never stepped back.”

  “Maybe you should tell them to, because from where I'm standing you don't look like you need protecting. You look like a strong, competent lady.”

  “Really?” She looked surprised. “That's just about the nicest thing anyone ever said to me.”

  “In that case you need to move with different people.”

  Her laugh brushed his neck and made a shiver travel the length of his spine.

  “They care about me, and while I'm trying to move on, they still remember the woman I was after I left Brian.”

  Brad hated Brian sight unseen, because anyone who hurt this woman must be an asshole and then some. What the hell did the guy do to her, if this was how her friends reacted?

  “But just so we're clear, because I never got to answer, you are hot, Brad Gelderman, and I'm taking this chance to say it, because if I see you tomorrow I will have lost the nerve.”

  He felt a tide of color rise in his face.

  “Whatever.”

  “You're Texan, you speak in that slow, sexy drawl that makes women swoon, and add to that you’re really good to look at.”

  She was smiling.

  “Are you laughing at me, Miss Macy?”

  “Maybe a little, but I'm telling the truth.”

  Brad knew women found him okay, but he didn't dress for effect, or because women liked it, he did it because it was the total opposite of the man his father had turned him into.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said to her. “And just so we’re clear, if I see you tomorrow, I’d tell you again.”

  Her eyes widened at his gruff words.

  “Thank you, but you don't have to say that.”

  Now it was her turn to look uncomfortable.

  “Sure I do, honey.” Brad felt better now the conversation had moved on from him.

  “You sounded just like Ethan then.”

  “Tell me about him.” Brad didn't know his older brother very well. They'd lived apart for years.

  “He flies charters in his helicopter from Howling now. He and Annabelle have built a wonderful house in the Redwoods. He's liked by everyone, one of the good guys. Billy loves him.”

  One of the good guys. Brad thought about that. Ethan had always been a good guy. He'd protected his brothers and sister from their father until he could take no more, and left. Then all hell had broken loose, and Brad had been in the center of the storm. He’d hated his brother after that. Hated and resented him.

  “Yes, he's the good guy of the family.”

  “That didn’t sound like a compliment, and I'm not sure he'd look at it that way. Plus, I've met you all now, and have to say you all seem nice.”

  “It comes natural to Ethan,” Brad said, looking over Macy's head to where his brother danced. As if sensing him, he turned and found Brad, and the smile that lit his face made Brad swallow. It was one that told of the pleasure Ethan felt that his siblings were close, here to witness the day he could bind himself to the woman he loved. Nodding, Brad focused on the woman in his arms.

  Too much emotion makes a man soft.

  The words were right out of the EG handbook. Imprinted inside Brad's head, like so many others, no matter how hard he'd tried to erase them.

  “You look sad.”

  “What?”

  Macy squeezed his fingers. “You looked so sad then.”

  “No, just tired,” he said, schooling his features. “Do you like motorbikes, Macy?”

  “I've never been on one.”

  “Want to go for a ride now before someone else from your posse arrives?”

  She only took a few seconds to decide, and nodded.

  “You go out first,” she whispered, “and I'll follow in a bit.”

  “Turn right out the door and head up the street,” Brad said as the dance finished. “I’ll see you soon.” Grabbing his jacket, he slipped out of the reception.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Macy went back to her seat, then took a large mouthful of her water to steady herself. She'd just said she would take a ride on Brad Gelderman's bike. It was approaching dark, and she was sure someone would see her, but she felt the reckless need to do this. Go with him wherever he wanted to take her, if only for one night.

  Have some fun, Macy. Don't think. When you're ready you'll know.

  Her therapist, Jillian, had talked about getting involved with another man. She had urged Macy to do so, if she felt she was ready and the right man turned up.

  “You're a person who likes contact, Macy. Someone who, with the right man, will experience a healthy and happy relationship.”

  She knew Brad wasn’t thinking about a relationship with her, just like she wasn’t with him, but was he thinking about having some fun, and by that she meant sex? Her limbs felt unsteady about that beautiful man wanting her. Did she want it… him?

  “You are a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, Macy. You've lived alone, unsupported by anyone but yourself, and raised a wonderful boy. You are no longer dependent, but independent.”

  Macy felt a rush of pleasure at the memory of Jillian's words. Damn it, she was independent. She looked to where Brad Gelderman had gone. How long would he wait for her?

  “That's a mighty fierce frown you got going on there, Macy.”

  “Hey, Newman,” Macy said to the tall, elegantly dressed man who fell into the seat beside her. “Just tired, I guess. It was a nice wedding, don't you think?”

  Paul Theodore Newman, child of much loved Mr. and Mrs. Newman, had handled the notoriety of his name by smiling, talking, and having good friends at his side when he got into fights as a child. He had a headful of blond curls, intelligent eyes, and was a looker, but compared to Brad he paled. It wasn't fair, but as Newman was her friend she'd never looked at him any other way.

  “Yeah, all that bridesmaiding must take it out of you, I'm thinking.”

  “Not a word, Newman, but I take your meaning, and yes, it is exhausting, all that giggling and stuff.”

  “Stuff being?”

  “Annabelle and Branna are continually talking about Jake and Ethan. Then there’s the smile.”

  “Smile?”

  “I term it the secret lovers smile.”

  “Ah, that one, gotcha, and yes, it’s bloody annoying.”

  “I swear, Newman, I’m happy for them. I am, but it makes you want to bring up your lunch.”

  He took her hand in his and squeezed it tight.

  “Yeah, but only because we're jealous. But that'll be our little secret, okay?”

  “Okay, and it's bad of us to be jealous because our friends are happy, FYI.”

  “It’s normal,” he amended. “And I actually quite like my single status, thank you, but I wish I had the hots for you, Macy.”

  She giggled.

  “It would certainly tie things up neatly.”

  “It would, but the thing is you'd murder me by the end of the first week.”

  “True, and you'd think me neurotic.”

  His eyes lost their humor and turned serious. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”

  “Sure, I'm doing great. Really,” Macy added as he looked doub
tful. “It’s just that coming to a wedding reminds me of the fact that mine was empty. That ridiculous grand ceremony and all the trimmings that went with it were all just a silly girl’s foolish dreams.”

  “Not so foolish.” Newman kissed her cheek. “It was your dream, Macy, and dreams should happen for sweet little girls. Promise me you won't give up on finding them again.”

  Macy swallowed the snort of denial and instead nodded. “Promise.”

  “And now I have to dance with that really hot chick in the tight orange dress.”

  “You're so loose, Newman.”

  “Damn straight, you should try it sometime.”

  Getting to her feet after he had left, she thought yes! Damn it, she should. Grabbing her bag, she wound her way circuitously through the guests so no one close to her would realize what she was doing. Reaching the door, she slipped out and turned right.

  Brad was where he'd said he'd be, standing beside his bike. Big and black, with gleaming polished chrome, it looked as formidable as him. His arms were folded, legs parted, eyes on her as she approached.

  “Sorry, I got delayed by Newman.”

  “Newman being?”

  “Another protector.”

  “I like that so many people care about you, Macy,” he said, picking up his helmet and lowering it onto her head. “But I swear, I have never been the recipient of so many threatening looks in my life before.”

  “It's nice they care.”

  “I was thinking the word suffocating was a better term.”

  He held his leather jacket out for her to slip on.

  “You can't be serious, that thing will be like a dress on me.”

  “It'll keep you warm, so humor me, okay?”

  She did as he asked. Her hands reached halfway down his sleeves, and she could easily have fit Billy in there with her. It smelled of him, and felt wonderful on her bare skin. She let him zip it up, because she had no hands to help.

  “You look cute.”

  “Most definitely the look I was going for.”

  His laugh was a low rumble. Then he lifted her and lowered her onto the back of his bike.

  “I'm wearing a short skirt and heels.”

  “Really, I hadn't noticed,” he said, looking at her thighs that were now exposed before putting his leg over the bike and lifting it off the stand. He came down hard on the kick start once and the engine roared to life. A surge of exhilaration flooded her. She was on a motorbike!