by Jane Graves
“Wait a minute. You said you were a teenager then.”
“I was fifteen.”
“Your father had you doing that when you were fifteen?”
“Oh, yeah. He was good at it alone. Together, we almost never missed.”
“But most pool tables are in bars. How did you get in?”
“I looked eighteen. They didn’t card at the crappy places we went.”
“How did you feel about that?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t really know anything else.”
“Did you go to school?”
When he thought back to those days, they seemed like nothing more than a blur of interchangeable schools in interchangeable towns.
“Most of the time,” he said. “But if my father felt like picking up and taking off, we did. He said the worst thing in life was to be tied down. He said a man always needed to be free to go where he wanted to and make a buck any way he could. Then one night, I blew a big hustle, and it all came to an end.”
“What do you mean?”
“I screwed up. My old man lost a thousand bucks. I’d never seen him that angry. He said he gave me the opportunity to win a big stake, but I couldn’t handle it. Then he told me I was a worthless little bastard who’d never amount to anything.”
“That’s terrible,” Alison said, her voice hushed.
“Two days later, he brought me here to visit my grandmother. He stayed one night. The next morning he was gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“He left town.”
Alison looked stunned. “He left you there? Just because you lost a game of pool?”
“My father held a grudge like no one else on the planet. I’d made him thousands, but suddenly because I lost one game, I was worthless to him. It wasn’t rational, but he wasn’t a rational man.”
“But he came back to see you, didn’t he? While you were living with your grandmother?”
Brandon thought about how he’d looked out his bedroom window, day after day, hating his old man and wishing him dead at the same time he prayed he’d see that old Ford F-150 pulling into the driveway.
“No,” Brandon said. “Not once.”
Alison turned in his arms to look up at him. Tears filled her eyes, and they shimmered in the near darkness.
“Alison. Sweetheart. Don’t cry. It was a long time ago.”
“I can’t help it. I just…I…” Her voice choked up. “How could your own father do that to you?” She put her palm on his cheek and kissed him. “I am so sorry.”
He swallowed hard, remembering just how betrayed he’d felt, and how the anger had built up inside him until nobody, including his grandmother, could take it away. But there was something about Alison lying in his arms right now, so warm and tender and empathetic, that lessened the power the memory had over him.
“So really, your friend was right about me,” Brandon said. “I was a pretty angry kid. I had a chip on my shoulder my grandmother couldn’t knock off to save her life. She did her level best to do right by me, but I didn’t give an inch. I left this house when I turned eighteen, and I never came back.”
“Where is your father now?”
“The last time I talked to him, he was heading for a pool tournament in Atlanta. That was right after he neglected to come to his own mother’s funeral.”
Alison closed her eyes. “My God. That’s awful.”
“He called me only because he found out I inherited and he didn’t. Now that he knows he can’t get any money out of me, I wouldn’t be surprised if I never saw him again.”
All at once, Brandon felt the most profound sense of loss he hadn’t anticipated. His father didn’t give a damn, and his grandmother, the only real family member he had, was gone. He thought about what Alison had said that night her father went to the hospital. Do you know how horrible it feels to know I’m only one person away from having no family at all?
Now that his grandmother was dead, and that was exactly what he had. No family at all.
“I should have come back,” he said. “After all my grandmother did for me. I should have come back and thanked her.”
“You have thanked her,” Alison said.
“What do you mean?”
“I told you once how amazing you are,” she said with quiet intensity. “And I still mean it. You’re not the boy you were. None of that matters anymore. I know your grandmother is looking down on you right now. Imagine how proud she must be that you’ve taken over her business and dedicated yourself to helping other people find happiness. That’s how you’ve thanked her, Brandon. It says more than words ever could.”
Brandon closed his eyes, feeling more like a fraud than he ever had before. In spite of what he’d told her, she still believed his motives were pure. And the more she talked, the more the truth was going to hurt her. But he just couldn’t make the words come out to tell her how wrong she was about him. That adoring look would instantly vanish, and he just couldn’t bear to lose it.
The air grew cooler, but he didn’t want to move, and he could tell she didn’t, either. He just continued to rock the glider gently back and forth as they listened to the autumn leaves rustling in the trees, imprinting this moment with this woman on his brain so he could remember it forever. Then slowly he pushed the tail of the shirt aside and closed his hand over her inner thigh. She jumped at little at his touch.
“Sorry,” he said. “Is my hand cold?”
“Uh…yeah.”
At the same time his hand grew warmer against her thigh, he dropped his other hand to one of the buttons of the shirt she wore and flicked it open.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He whispered in her ear. “Evening up the score.”
He slid his hand inside her shirt, cupped her breast and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Kids are next door,” she said, her voice a little hoarse.
“It’s late. They’re in bed. Shrubs block the windows. And we have no lights on out here. They can’t see a thing.”
He eased his hand between her legs and began to stroke her there. He thought she might object, but instead she let one leg fall over the edge of the glider and the other rest against the back of it, opening herself to him. With his other hand, he circled her nipple, then dragged his fingertip across it, finding it hard and tight in the cool night air.
“You’re not cold, are you?” he whispered.
“I’m warming up fast,” she whispered back.
The longer he touched her, the harder he got. Again. Good Lord. He’d be able to take her again right here and now, just as he’d done not twenty minutes ago. And he probably wouldn’t have any more control now than he’d had then.
He held her breast, squeezing, releasing, letting his thumb trip back and forth across her nipple as he continued his rhythmic stroking between her legs. Her breath came faster. He kissed her neck and whispered encouragement, telling her how hot she felt and how beautiful she was and how much he loved being with her like this. Soon her breathing became shallow and irregular and she pressed up against his hand, her body tight with anticipation as he gently but relentlessly drove her right to the edge.
And then she fell.
She clamped her hand on his leg, her entire body going rigid. He could practically feel her pleasure pulsing through his own body.
“Oh, God,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Brandon…”
He continued to caress her until her breathing slowed and she gradually fell against him, every muscle becoming lax, a soft sigh slipping through her lips. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck.
“Relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
“I know,” she murmured, relaxing in his arms, making him want to hold her forever. “I know.”
Alison put her knees together and rested them against the back of the glider as she lay against Brandon’s chest. They stayed there for a long time like that, just rocking back and forth.
“It’s wond
erful that you’ve made other people happy,” Alison said, breaking the cool silence of the evening. “But it’s time you found some happiness of your own.” She turned to look up at him, her expression so sweet and tender that his heart nearly melted. “It’s time both of us did.”
No. I’m not a matchmaker. I never wanted to be a matchmaker. That gig has come to an end. So that guy you think you’re crazy about? The one who has love and romance in his blood? He doesn’t exist.
But then her hands were on him again, and her lips, and he let the truth dissolve to the back of his mind. After a while, they went back inside and up to his bedroom. He made love to her again, sinking into blissful oblivion. Afterward, he pulled her into his arms and she fell asleep against his chest, and he couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d felt more content.
He didn’t know how he was going to tell her the truth. To fix the mess he’d made of this. He only knew that he didn’t want to lose Alison, and he didn’t want to lose the deal in Houston. Somehow, tomorrow, he was going to find a way to pull it all together.
When Alison woke the next morning, she turned and peered at the clock. Nine fifteen. She looked the other way.
Brandon was asleep next to her.
Feeling warm and drowsy, she turned to her side and just stared at him. One arm was thrown back over his head in sleepy abandon, and the other lay across his chest, his palm resting over his heart. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, his breath making a whisper of a noise as it exited through his slightly parted lips. His hair was mussed and there was a pillow crease in his cheek, but somehow it only made him look that much sexier. And Jasmine was sprawled out beside him, her head against his knee, projecting the kind of warm, homey scene that filled her with contentment.
She wondered if he was dreaming. She hoped she wasn’t. It was a distinct possibility, though. After all, she was in bed with a man whose body was filled with testosterone and whose mind was filled with love and romance. What better combination could there possibly be?
She remembered last night on the patio, how his hands and his lips had seemed to be everywhere at once. She liked the way he’d evened up the score, leaving her feeling as if her bones had liquefied and her body had melted into his. And when he’d told her the truth about his past, she’d only felt that much more drawn to him.
Unfortunately, the instant replay going through her mind was interrupted by thoughts of what her hair must look like this morning and what remnants of her makeup had moved to random parts of her face. She decided she’d try to get up, get a shower, and crawl back into bed before Brandon woke up.
She pushed the covers back gently and started to get out of bed, when she felt a hand grab her wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a beautiful male voice behind her said.
“Uh…I need a shower.”
“First things first,” Brandon said, pulling her back down until she was lying in his arms. Jasmine looked up, her expression a little huffy at the interruption, then laid her head down again.
“A shower should be first,” Alison said.
He ran his hand up and down her thigh. “I have other ideas.”
“Okay, as long as you implement those ideas with your eyes closed.”
“Why in the world would I do that?”
“Because I’m quite certain I look like I got caught in a wind tunnel in a Maybelline plant.”
He laughed.
“You’re laughing. Why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re funny.”
“Funny looking.”
He smoothed her hair away from her face. “No. Beautiful.”
Well, she knew that was a crock right about then, but still it gave her little tingles of delight to hear him say it. Pretty soon he was kissing her, implementing those ideas he’d talked about in ways that rendered her speechless. Half an hour later, the poor man looked so wiped out that she told him to go back to sleep while she took that shower she desperately needed.
“Back in a little while,” she said, and slipped out of bed.
Brandon had just dozed off again when he heard a frenzy of knocks on his bedroom door. He woke with a start and rose on one elbow just in time to see Tom come barreling into the room.
“Hey, Brandon!” Tom said. “Get up. I’ve got news.”
“Good God. You scared the hell out of me!” He flopped to his back again. “The house had better be on fire.”
“Nope. The house isn’t on fire, but we are. As I was leaving Tracy’s place, I got a call from Bennett. You’re not going to believe this, but it came through.”
“What came through?”
“The zoning change. The property next door is now mixed-use, and they’re going full speed ahead with their project. Do you have any idea what this does to the value of our property?”
Brandon sat up again. “I thought there was no way they were going to pull that off. How did it happen?”
“Bribery? Witchcraft? Divine intervention? Hell, I don’t know. I only know we’re damned lucky it did.”
Brandon couldn’t believe this. It was going to happen. They were going to make a freakin’ fortune.
“How soon before they’re moving ahead with the urban living center?”
“They’ve been champing at the bit already. Now that they’ve got the go‑ahead, I bet they break ground within a few months.”
“So by the time we finish the lofts, it’ll be well underway?”
“Yep. Buyers will be able to visualize the whole area. We were going to do okay before, partner. Now we’re going to make a killing.”
This was it. This was what Brandon had been waiting for. That one deal that would put him on the road to the top again. No more pinching pennies, no more feeling broke, no more hanging his head because his life had fallen apart.
“Wait a minute,” Tom said, glancing at the purse on the nightstand. “That’s Alison’s. What’s it doing in your bedr—” He stopped short, his eyes widening. “Tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”
He was silent.
“Oh, God. You did.” Tom blew out a breath. “I knew it. I knew sooner or later you’d end up in bed with her.”
“Will you keep your voice down?”
“Where is she?”
“Taking a shower in the hall bath. This is my business, Tom. Not yours.”
“No. It’s not just your business. It’s my business, too. Tell me you’re not flaking on me. Tell me you’re still planning on being in Houston at that closing table on Wednesday morning.”
“Hell, yes, I’ll be there. I’d be out of my mind to pass up a deal like that.”
“So what about Alison?”
He paused, his head starting to hurt. “I don’t know.”
“I thought she was dating that Justin guy.”
“She broke up with him.”
“So you moved in on her?”
It hadn’t been like that. Not that he wasn’t an opportunistic man. He jumped on a good deal every time one popped up. But last night with Alison hadn’t been a spur of the moment thing. His feelings for her had been a long time coming, growing bit by bit, seeping into his consciousness, until it had taken only the tiniest tip of the scales for them to come together.
“What’s she going to do when she finds out you’re leaving?” Tom said. “Hell, forget that. What’s she going to do when she finds out you never intended to stay? That you’ve been playing matchmaker all this time just to scrape thirty grand together to do the deal? That’ll be pretty.”
“I’ll handle it,” Brandon said. “Don’t worry.”
“Don’t you think maybe you should have had an exit strategy before you slept with her?”
No. There was going to be no exit. Somehow he was going to make this work. He wasn’t giving Alison up. But he wasn’t staying here and giving up the deal of the century, either. Somehow there had to be a way to work this out.
“Break it off with her,” Tom said. “And do it now.”
/>
“It’s my problem, and I’ll deal with it.”
“You’d damn well better, or—”
Tom froze, staring over Brandon’s shoulder. Brandon whipped around to see Alison at his bedroom door, her hair wet, wearing nothing but a towel. He prayed to God she’d missed all that, but judging by the look on her face, she’d heard every word.
Chapter 26
Tom,” Brandon snapped. “Out.”
This time Tom didn’t hesitate. He was out of the room in seconds. Alison hurried in to grab her clothes she’d laid on a chair last night, a look of anger and betrayal on her face. She tossed the towel aside and put on her underwear, then her bra.
“Alison, please,” Brandon said, coming to his feet and yanking on his jeans. “Stop. We need to talk about this.”
She reached for her shirt, but he came around the bed and caught her arm. She shook loose and spun around to face him.
“Is it true? Are you leaving for Houston?”
Brandon lowered his eyes.
“And not coming back?”
“Alison—”
“Oh, my God. Everything Tom said is true. You never intended to stay here. The moment you conned enough people out of fifteen hundred dollars, you were out the door.”
“I didn’t con anyone!”
“Then what do you call it?”
“I delivered the services people paid for. If I didn’t, I’m returning their money before I shut things down. Where’s the con in that?”
“You lied,” she said, putting on her shirt. “You lied about who you are and what you were doing here.”
“Come on, Alison. That was just business. I had to convince prospective clients I was the real deal. If I’d told people I was going to be around for only a few months, how much business would have come my way then?”
“Business came your way because I helped you!”
“And I appreciate everything you did, believe me.”
“I’m sure you do.” She reached for her jeans.
