“You already knew that,” Daff pointed out, confused.
“Yes, but I always thought I’d have to leave Riversend to find work, but Aisha wants to spend less hours at work after the baby’s born and Tumi is leaving at the end of the year, so there’ll be a position for me.”
“Yeah, but you can’t really fill Tumi or Aisha’s positions until you graduate.”
“I know that, but they won’t replace Tumi, so the other ladies and I will pick up the slack.”
“It’ll take at least four years,” Daff reminded, clearly playing the devil’s advocate.
“Actually,” Lia said with a shy smile, “it’ll only take about three. I’ve been doing an online degree.”
Daff looked at her for a beat and then squealed. “Oh my God, you’re such a secretive little cow! Why didn’t you tell anyone? How long have you been doing this?”
“I’ve just started my second year,” she admitted, and her smile widened when Daff squealed again. “I should have done this years ago, Daff. It’s a calling. I just kept putting it off and expecting other things to fulfill and enrich my life. I should never have done that. I study at night and on weekends. I have money saved, Grammy and Grampa’s trust, and with the extra I’ll now be earning with this job, I can actually afford to rent Daisy’s house . . . after you move out, of course. Or maybe we can be roomies.”
Daff jumped up and rounded the table to give her a hug. Then she summoned Suzy over.
“We’re celebrating, Suzy! Some bubbly, if you please. And not the cheap stuff, either! We’re going to do this in style.” Lia laughed at her sister’s infectious happiness and felt silly for not telling Daff about the degree sooner.
“You should have told us—why didn’t you?” her sister asked after sitting back down, and Lia shrugged uncomfortably.
“I don’t know. After things ended with Clayton, I wanted to do something just for me. And I suppose I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Know what I mean? I didn’t want to share it with anyone. Not yet.”
“Silly. We would have been nothing but happy for you.”
“I know. I’ll tell Mom and Daddy soon, too.”
“Well, my news seems like a damp squib compared to yours now,” Daff complained good-naturedly. “But Spence has finally acknowledged that it would be best all round if I moved in with him and Charlie. So you and I won’t be roomies. I never really thought you were interested in moving out, though. You’re such a homebody.”
“I’ll still be a homebody, but in a different home.” Lia could barely contain her excitement. “And I’m so happy for you, Daff. I can’t believe it has taken Spencer this long to give in. You’re like water dripping on rock, absolutely relentless.”
“And I’m really happy you’ll finally be chasing your dream, Lia. Who cares how long it took for you to get to this point? All that matters is that you’re here now.” Lia grinned—Daff could be so sage sometimes.
“So what happened at the PTA meeting last night?” Lia asked after they’d ordered their meals from Suzy.
“Oh my God, the drama,” Daff said with her usual dramatic flair. “The asshole math teacher called Charlie an ill-mannered, ill-tempered, ill-bred . . . That was as far as he got before Spencer hulked out on him. I mean, it was pretty sexy. Spence doesn’t get aggressive, but he was so pissed off that he seemed to expand to almost twice his size, and then he leaned down over the guy, like so . . .” Daff leaned over her wineglass and glared at it, reminding Lia a bit of Snoopy the beagle’s vulture pose. “And said, all quiet like, ‘I dare you to finish that sentence’ . . . Oh my God, I could have jumped his bones right there and then. The teacher practically wet himself before he stuttered an apology and said something about Charlie needing to focus more in class and to stop being disruptive. Spencer just gave him a disgusted look and told him that if Charlie fails math he, Spencer, will hold the teacher personally accountable and that was that. We left. In grand style. I did jump his bones soon after. And he asked me to move in after that. He said that he hates not having me around all the time . . . still no proposal, but this is a step in the right direction.”
“It definitely is.” Lia nodded enthusiastically. Suzy brought the requested bubbly and their food, and there was silence between them as they took a moment to sauce and season their food. After which Daff lifted her glass of sparkling wine and urged the bashful Lia to do the same.
“To my little sister getting her degree!” she said with a grin.
“To my big sister, moving in with her man,” Lia added, and they both giggled like schoolgirls before clinking their glasses together and taking a sip.
“So you saw Sam Brand last night?” Daff asked after the giggling had passed and they were focused on their food again, her voice much too casual. The subject change caught Lia by surprise, and she blinked before clearing her throat and nodding.
“Yes. He looks pretty rough.” She avoided Daff’s keen gaze and dug into her chicken schnitzel and mashed potatoes with what she hoped looked like relish. Quite honestly, the memory of how banged up and bruised Brand was made her lose her enthusiasm for the meal.
“I went around there this morning,” Daff said between greedy bites from her huge burger. Lia waited while her sister took her sweet time before elaborating on her initial statement.
“And?” she finally prompted when it looked like Daff was going to scarf down the entire burger without pausing for breath.
“What?” Daff asked around a huge mouthful of meat and bread. “Oh.” She swallowed and took a sip of water to wash it down. “He’s such a jerk. I definitely don’t like him—we’ll make sure the cabin is stocked until he’s able to get out and do some shopping himself, but I won’t be going around to help him out with food prep or anything. I don’t want to spend any more time around that douchebag than I have to. I don’t care what Spencer says.” The last was said so defiantly that Lia was willing to bet Spencer had already said quite a bit about her decision not to lend a neighborly hand to Brand in his time of need.
“He can’t really do much with his dominant hand incapacitated,” Lia said, recalling his frustration in attempting to get his shirt off the night before, and then she flushed when she recollected his chest once the shirt had actually come off. It took everything she had not to fan her flushed face.
“You okay? You look a little feverish,” Daff asked, and Lia flushed even more.
“It’s rather warm in here, isn’t it?”
“Not noticeably.”
“Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be seeing Gregory again,” Lia said, desperate to change the subject.
“Gregory?” Daff looked blank, and Lia stared at her impatiently.
“Gregory, I mentioned him before. Several times, in fact. The bank manager?”
“Oh, that guy. For some reason I thought his name was Grant.”
“Really? Do you ever listen when I talk?” It was exasperating how self-involved Daff could be at times.
“Well, you never sounded particularly enthusiastic when you spoke about him, I figured he wouldn’t last long. So there was no point in really paying attention, was there? And look, I was right. You’re not seeing him again. What was wrong with him? Did you fall asleep in the middle of dinner or something? Because that guy sounded boring.”
“He had third-date expectations,” Lia said primly.
“You went on three dates with that guy? He lasted longer than I expected. So he wanted to introduce his wiener to your hot pocket, did he?”
“Must you?” Lia asked. Daff could be so juvenile and vulgar sometimes.
“Did he want to holster his hot glue gun in your spasm chasm?” Daff continued solemnly and then snorted when Lia frowned at her.
“You’re such a child,” Lia chastised. “I’m never telling you anything again.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist,” Daff said, choking back her laughter. “Tell me what happened.”
Lia pursed her lips and refused to c
omment, lifting a forkful of mashed potatoes to her mouth instead.
“Come on, Lia,” she said coaxingly. “Don’t be such a baby. I was just teasing. Tell me what Gilbert did.”
“For cripes’ sake! His name is Gregory.”
“Lia, we’ve discussed this before . . . you know I can’t take you seriously when you use words like cripes.”
“Just because you like to swear doesn’t mean I have to.” Lia knew she sounded like an old woman, but seriously, her sister went a bit overboard with the language at times. It was so unladylike.
“Tell me about Gregory.”
“Fine! He kissed me. And got a bit gropey.” And just like that, Daff went as serious as a heart attack. All laughter fled from her eyes, and her expression froze. She could be a bit scary when she got into protective-big-sister mode.
“Do I have to find him and chop off his balls? Or did he listen when you told him to back off?”
“Of course he did. Eventually,” Lia said carefully. Daff practically had smoke pouring from her nostrils, she was fuming so much.
“Eventually? What the fuck does that mean?”
“It wasn’t anything serious, he touched my boob and kind of rubbed himself against me. But then you called and I had an excuse to go.”
“You don’t need an excuse, Lia. All you have to do is tell him no. And if he doesn’t listen, knee him in the groin.”
“I won’t see him again.”
“Not just this Gregory asshole. Any guy, Lia.”
“I know, don’t worry,” Lia placated her, and Daff shook her head.
“It’s hard not to. You’re terrifyingly naïve at times, Lia. I worry about you.” Her words made Lia bristle. She wished her family would stop seeing her as this helpless, sweet little girl who couldn’t take care of herself.
“It’s not your place to worry about me, Daff,” she said, injecting enough frost in her voice to make her sister sit up and pay attention. “I’m not a child. And while I may have made a few stupid decisions in the past, I’ve learned from all of them. I never repeat my mistakes.” Well, aside from that Sam Brand thing. But luckily nobody knew about that, and it definitely wouldn’t happen again.
Daff didn’t say anything for the longest time, merely stared at her, before shaking her head and shrugging.
“When are you thinking of moving into Daisy’s place?” she asked. Another jarring subject change, and it took Lia a moment to adjust.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t really spoken to Daisy about it yet. I hope she doesn’t have a potential tenant in mind already.”
“I doubt that.”
“I’ll call her tonight. When are you moving out?”
“Soon as I can. Wouldn’t want Spence to change his mind.” She was only half joking.
“He wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m paranoid sometimes. Besides, I really can’t wait for us to be under the same roof.”
Lia smiled; it was strange to see her oldest sister so hopelessly in love. Daff had always been tough and self-sufficient. She had become jaded in recent years, but since she and Spencer had fallen in love, the hard edges Daff had been starting to develop had softened.
“You will be soon enough,” Lia told her, and Daff grinned.
“I’ve turned into a total sap,” Daff said with a rueful shake of her head.
“Total.”
“Shut up.”
I need your help! Lia stared blankly at the message on her screen later that evening. Her parents were chatting amiably in front of the television and Lia had been contemplating heading up to her room for an early bedtime when the cryptic message from the unknown number came through.
The second message appeared on the screen a moment later. It’s Brand.
Of course it was.
How did you get my number? she texted back.
I have my ways. Seriously, princess, I need your help.
Lia bit her lip uncertainly as she stared at the screen. She was a sucker, and it seemed that even Brand knew that. She was picturing him sprawled at the bottom of the staircase, hurt even worse than before.
What’s wrong? Are you hurt?
Kind of.
Now what on earth was that supposed to mean? Either he was hurt or not—there was no kind of.
You going to help me or not?
Wow. Bossy. Part of her wanted to switch off her phone and ignore his cryptic messages. But her conscience screamed at her not to leave the poor man to fend for himself. He was injured, and helping him was the right thing to do. Especially since it seemed like Daff wasn’t going to.
What do you need? she found herself reluctantly asking. The reply came seconds later.
Can you come over?
It’s really late.
It’s 20:30
She very nearly responded that eight thirty was late for her but managed to stop the pathetic response just in time. She sighed. She didn’t owe him anything, but she’d feel terrible if he was really in pain or in need and she just ignored his cry for help.
I’ll be there in 10 minutes.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lia contemplated the mostly dark cabin for a long time before she finally stepped out of her car. She self-consciously patted her hair and smoothed down her skirt before throwing back her shoulders and walking up the path to the front door.
She knocked and waited a moment, but there was no response. Another knock yielded the same result. Concerned that he was hurt and incapable of answering, she tried the handle and was surprised when the door swung soundlessly inward. The only source of light was coming from the loft, and Lia tilted her head and stared at it for a moment, wondering if she should venture up there.
“Mis—Brand?” she called softly. Nothing. She raised her voice. “Brand?”
“Up here.” She breathed a sigh of relief when his voice drifted down to her.
“I’m coming up,” she warned, and she heard him swear in response to her words.
“I hope so, otherwise there’d be no fucking point in having you here, would there?”
So rude.
She made her way upstairs, not sure what to expect. When she got to the loft, all she found was an unmade bed with clothing scattered all over the floor. Jeez, what a slob. She curbed the uncharitable thought, reminding herself that he was injured and this was probably not a true reflection of what his living space usually looked like.
“Brand?”
“Here.”
Crumbs! His voice was coming from the bathroom. Not good.
“Uh. What do you need?” she asked, and he swore again.
“You. Give me a hand, will you?” She heard water sloshing and grimaced.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Dahlia, for fuck’s sake, this is embarrassing enough as it is. Don’t make it worse.”
Bracing herself for the worst, she pushed the slightly ajar door open and found Sam Brand sitting in the huge soaker tub with an extremely chagrined look on his face. He had his plastered arm draped over the side, and from her vantage point at the door all she could see was his head and chest.
“I seem to be having some difficulty getting out of this damned tub,” he gritted out from between tightly clenched teeth. His red face rivaled hers.
“I should call Spencer.”
“Fuck that! I don’t need anyone else to know about this.”
“You’re injured, there’s really nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“You can help me; you’ve already seen me naked . . .”
“I haven’t,” she protested.
“Semantics. Just help me out of here, will you? My weak leg keeps slipping out from under me, the wound in my back hurts like hell, and I’ve already hit my arm on the rim about a dozen times.” She winced in sympathy. He looked furious and disgruntled, but beneath it all she could see the humiliation and pain in his eyes. The vulnerability struck a tender chord and made her want to ease his discomfort and take care of him.
“Why didn’t you shower?”
“Because I thought bathing would be easier with the cast. I didn’t anticipate the difficulties of getting out of this deep fucking tub.”
“I really think Spencer—”
“Lia!” It was the first time he’d ever called her that, and the surprise at hearing her name on his lips shut her up. She liked the sound of it in his deep, gravelly voice, and it sent a shocking frisson of awareness and heat sizzling down her spine. Well, that was completely inappropriate, given the situation. “The water is cold, princess. It took me a while to admit defeat.”
“It’s lucky you had your phone close by,” she said, her eyes drifting to the phone, which he’d placed on the laundry basket beside the bath.
“Yeah.”
“Uh, well, then. I think it would be easier if we drained the bath.”
“How the hell would that be easier? I’d lose the buoyancy of the water.”
“You said your leg keeps slipping, you need some traction. Trust me, this’ll work.” He didn’t look convinced but reached forward and yanked the plug out. Lia took a step back and averted her eyes as the water level dropped at an alarming speed. They both remained awkwardly silent while the bath drained.
Lia’s eyes darted around the bathroom, unable to rest on anything for too long, but she was excruciatingly aware of the fact that Brand’s gaze never left her flushed face. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the last bit of water gurgled down the drain, but Lia was still unable to drop her eyes to the wet, naked man in the tub. He might have lost weight, but he was still a very virile man, with way too much sex appeal.
“You’re going to have to look at me at some point, Princess Lia.” He chuckled at his own nerdy pun, and Lia glanced heavenward, praying for strength. She took a deep, bracing breath and diverted her eyes down to his face, keeping her gaze very determinedly away from any other part of his body.
“You have to put a towel beneath your feet,” she said and happily looked away from him to find a towel. She spotted one, a small hand towel draped through the metal loop beside the basin, much too quickly. She dampened it slightly beneath the basin faucet and handed it to him after one quick glance at his face.
The Wrong Man Page 7
