by Sabrina York
“It wasn’t a bad review.”
“Three burps.”
Charlie gasped with more melodrama than was precisely necessary. In fact, no melodrama was precisely necessary. Devlin glowered, at which his brother grinned. “Why would you give such a beautiful woman only three burps?” Really, Charlie? And in that tone of voice? As though he were seducing her? And come to think of it, Devlin didn’t care for the way his brother was ogling his…his whatever.
She wasn’t his girlfriend, for God’s sake. And she wasn’t his lover. Not technically. She was—
“I didn’t know she was beautiful when I wrote the review—” He caught himself and added. “And three burps is not a bad review.”
Tina clucked her tongue as she opened her menu. “Well, good luck with that.”
Charlie fixed Tara with a flirtatious look. “Well, I would never give you a bad review.”
Devlin tried not to bristle. He needed to complete his review for this restaurant, but why on earth had he brought his brother with him? He should have left the bastard at home with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon.
“Thank you Charlie.” Tara patted his hand. “I appreciate that.”
“So,” Devlin gusted. To distract them, perhaps. “What’s everyone going to have?”
Tina slapped the menu closed. “The Shrimp Scampi, I think. How about you?”
“Salmon,” Devlin and Tara responded at the same time. Why she had to glare at him about that, he had no clue. It wasn’t his fault they had the same taste in fish.
“I’m getting oysters,” Charlie said with a waggle of his brows. Honestly, if he didn’t quit ogling Tara, Devlin was going to punch him in the gut.
And then he saw it. The flicker in his brother’s eye. The quick glance at Tina. And the rise of his blush. And Devlin realized…it wasn’t Tara Charlie was interested in. Relief flooded him.
He didn’t know why he was so comforted by this knowledge. He had no hold on Tara. No claim to her whatsoever.
He ignored the prickles on his nape at the thought.
The server came to take their orders and the conversation settled into a predictable polite pattern. No talk of burps or grudges. No salacious leers. Tara chatted about her bakery—thankfully without a mention of gluten-free anything—and Tina mentioned that she was visiting for a few weeks. She launched into an entertaining monologue about the sights they’d seen in the past week. It was all very pleasant.
Until Tina turned to Charlie and eyed his wheelchair with a gimlet gaze. “So,” she said. “What happened to you?”
Silence descended over the table and Devlin’s heart stopped. Froze right there in his chest. He knew he couldn’t protect his brother from every wound, but he did try. He just hadn’t expected this. Here. Now. And so bluntly.
How mortifying would it be to have a beautiful woman blatantly point out that you were no longer a man?
Charlie’s lashes flickered. His Adam’s apple worked. But he fixed a tight smile on his face. “IED.” Yeah. The bomb had blown a hole in his half-track. Wedged a piece of metal in his spine. He’d been the lucky one.
Devlin opened his mouth to change the topic to something less awkward, but before he could, Tina spoke. “Ah,” she said. “That sucks.”
“It does indeed.”
She tapped the tablecloth with a slender finger. “So, where were you stationed?”
To Devlin’s astonishment, his brother shifted toward Tina…as though he wanted to talk about this. “Kandahar.”
Tina nodded. Lifted her glass. “Kabul.”
“Really?”
“Two years.”
“Really?” Charlie looked her up and down. His surprise made it clear he would not have pegged her for a soldier. Neither would Devlin. She was as diminutive and delicate as Tara. Maybe more so. Her short-cut hair and hollowed cheeks made her appear more elfin, even more fragile than her sister. “What’s your designation?”
“Med corps.”
Charlie whistled through his teeth. “I bet you’ve seen some things.”
“No shit.”
The two pattered on, chatting about assignments they’d had, bases they’d both visited, and a bar in Stuttgart they both knew far too well. When they discovered they had mutual friends, any hope of a four-way conversation fled.
Devlin could hardly be offended. He hadn’t seen his brother this animated in…too long. He glanced at Tara to catch her gazing at him. Their eyes met and she tried to cover her flush with a little shrug, but it didn’t work.
He scooted his chair closer to hers. “I didn’t know you had a twin sister,” he murmured.
“I didn’t know you had a twin brother.”
Silence surrounded them. He broke it. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“I’d like to learn.” He didn’t intend for the words to slip out. They just did. But that was okay. He liked the way her nostrils flared when she caught them. “I meant what I said earlier.”
“What was it you said?” She tapped her lip as though trying to remember.
“I missed you…Tara.” He whispered her name. She shivered. He liked that too.
She affected a blasé shrug. “It’s only been a few days.”
Since they’d talked, yes. Since they’d touched…far too long. “It’s been nearly two weeks. I’m aching.”
Her snort surprised him.
“What?”
“Seriously?” She glanced at her sister—who was completely engaged in a conversation with Charlie about mess hall food—and leaned closer to hiss, “You had your chance. You said no.”
“Maybe I should have said yes.”
The air around them sizzled and crackled.
“Maybe you should have.”
He forced a smile. “Do you really hold a grudge?”
“Yes.”
“For, ah, how long?”
“Forever.” His belly plunged. But when her lips tweaked in a tantalizing offering, something else rose. “But you could…work it off.”
“Work it off?”
“Mmm hmm.”
If her scorching perusal was any indication, he might enjoy working it off. He leaned closer. “Do your worst,” he said in a low thrum. “I dare you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tara’s heart stuttered.
Was that a dare?
A serious dare?
Judging from the look in his eye, it was.
She’d been stunned to hear his voice in the crowded restaurant, because she’d been thinking about him. For a second, she’d assumed it was her imagination going crazy, but then she’d turned around and there he was. Standing beside her. So tall and broad and yummy.
It wasn’t fair for a man to be so beautiful.
And there were two of them. He had a brother.
She glanced at Tina and Charlie, who had their heads together, laughing about some crazy thing a friend had done. While Charlie shared Devlin’s features, almost to a T, his brother had rougher edges. Scars.
But his scars didn’t make him less striking. They gave his face a deeper character. Judging from Tina’s reaction to him, Charlie’s life experience made him even more attractive.
When the waiter came to take their plates and ask hopefully if they’d saved room for dessert, Charlie and Tina emerged from their cocoon. “No dessert for us,” Charlie said, tossing his napkin onto the table. “Tina and I are going out dancing.”
Devlin gaped at his brother. “D-dancing?” His gaze flicked down to the wheelchair.
Charlie leaned forward, his chin jutting stubbornly. “Dancing. I know a place.”
“How can you know a place for dancing?” Devlin must have realized how patronizing he sounded, because he grimaced.
Fortunately, Charlie didn’t appear offended. “Because I get out,” he quipped. “In fact, I have a life. There’s a club down the street that has great live music.” He turned to Tara and offered
an impish grin. “Come with us?”
“I…” She hesitated, but then she noticed Tina’s hopeful-puppy expression. “Of course.”
Tara allowed Devlin to pick up the tab for dinner because he insisted and, after all, he had agreed to work off his debt to her. Besides, he said he could write it off. But it chafed. It made this interaction feel too much like a date.
She didn’t want to date him. She didn’t want to date anyone.
But she did want to fuck him.
So as they made their way out of the restaurant into the balmy summer Seattle night, strolling down the street toward the club Charlie knew, and his fingers twined with hers, she didn’t pull away.
In an unspoken accord, they both fell back, letting Charlie and Tina lead the way. The two were chatting like magpies, completely enraptured. Charlie’s absorption when he looked up at her, as he pushed his wheelchair forward, was telling. As was her responding interest.
“We may have started something there,” Devlin murmured into her ear.
She shivered as his warm breath skated over her cheek. “Hmm. They have a lot in common.”
“They do. But they like each other too. A lot, it appears.”
She peeked at him. A mistake. His blue eyes held a warmth that sent an electric charge through her. Her brain sizzled and popped. Which was probably why she opened her mouth and said, “Maybe it’s a genetic attraction.”
“Genetic attraction?”
Heat rose on her cheeks. She turned away so he wouldn’t notice, but she suspected, from his chuckle, that he did. “We are all twins.”
“Are you saying you’re attracted to me too, Ponytail?”
She tried to untangle their fingers, but he tugged her closer.
“Are you?” A whisper.
“You know I am.” Okay. She probably didn’t need to snarl, but he was pushing this a little too far. Declarations were not her thing. Not by a long shot. “But I’ve been attracted to lots of guys before.”
“Hmm.” Clearly he did not appreciate this tidbit. “And how did that work out?”
She sent him a reptilian grin. “Dismally.”
“Okay.” He blew out a sigh and stopped. He still had a hold of her hand so, perforce, she stopped with him. “Where does that put us?”
Tara glanced down the street. Tina and Charlie had continued on, in a world of their own, oblivious they’d lost their companions. Devlin set a finger on her chin and turned her attention back to him. The warmth of his touch irritated her.
This guy could set a fire with a minute caress.
“Us?” She deliberately didn’t answer, lobbing the conversational ball back into his court.
“Us.” His brow darkened with resolve. And hell, he lobbed it right back. “You’re attracted to me and I’m attracted to you. We are attracted to each other. So…where do we go from here?”
“Fuck buddies.”
Did she imagine his features tightened at that? “Fuck buddies.”
“You did say you wanted to work off your karmic debt to me.”
He studied her for a long while. “I, ah, assumed you were joking about that.”
She had been. Kind of. But the fact of the matter was, the gambit served a great purpose. If he thought he was expunging his guilt over that crappy review and softening her epic grudge against him, he wouldn’t assume what they had was anything other than casual sex. He wouldn’t go into caveman relationship mode. She hated caveman relationship mode. She firmed her chin. “Take it or leave it, Devlin.”
His response was immediate. He flashed a tight smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, and clipped, “Take it.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
They stared at each other for a long charged moment. The tension around them sizzled and spat. Tara had no idea why there was any tension at all. This was what they both wanted. This was certainly what she needed.
Clearly, all the tension was coming from him. Indeed, his muscles were bunched, his shoulders set. His chin—that lovely, delicious chin—was tight. A muscle flexed in his cheek, as though he were grinding his teeth. But it was the look in his eyes that scored her, haunted her.
Surely that wasn’t longing?
“Yoo hoo!” A warble echoed down the moonlit street. Tara glanced at Tina and Charlie, who had reached the club. Her sister waved wildly. “Are you joining us?” she called.
“Shall we?” Devlin asked, offering her his arm.
“Yes,” she responded. But they both knew they weren’t talking about heading for the club. Again, they were talking about something else altogether.
The Pit Stop was a funky little bar with tables and booths surrounding an open dance floor. A fiddler’s band played on the small stage at the far end. It wasn’t the kind of music Devlin gravitated to, being more of a rock and roll kind of guy, but he liked it a lot.
The place was humming on a Saturday night, but it wasn’t hard finding a table near the floor. In fact, a couple of soldiers in uniform waved Charlie over when they saw him roll down the ramp into the establishment. After a short conversation, they vacated their table for them, heading to perch at the bar instead.
“That was nice of them,” Tina said, taking her seat.
Charlie winked. “They’re friends. They probably think we’re on a date and want to give me an advantage.”
Devlin didn’t miss Tina’s blush. Couldn’t miss it. It was practically neon. He also didn’t miss her frown when the waitress sidled up to his brother and gave him a sultry wink. “Hey Charliebear.”
“Hey Monica.”
She set a bowl of peanuts and pretzels on the table. “What can I get you to drink? The usual?”
The usual?
“Yep. And what do you guys want? Beer?” He turned to Tina. “Wine?”
They all rattled off their beverage preferences, but Devlin was in something of a daze. When the waitress left, and Tina and Tara skipped off to the bathroom, as women were wont to do, in herds, he leaned over to his brother. “Do you come here often?”
Charlie barked a laugh. “Is that a pick up line?”
Devlin smacked him. “Be serious. Do you?”
“Occasionally.”
“Occasionally enough that the waitress knows you name…and your drink?”
Charlie shrugged. “I like it here. The music is great.”
A woman in a slinky dress passed by and blew a kiss. Charlie sketched a salute. Devlin gaped at him.
Holy crap. Despite his disability, his brother did have a life.
The fiddlers kicked into another song and Charlie kept time by tapping his fingers on the table. He looked over his shoulder toward the bathrooms. Apparently Tina had been away from his side for too long.
“Are you serious about dancing?” Devlin tried not to glance at the chair and failed. The thought of Charlie spinning on the dance floor—being stared at by strangers—mortified him.
“I am serious. I love dancing.” Charlie’s eyes glimmered. He leaned closer. “Brother, sometimes you’ve got to work with what you’ve got.”
A flutter of movement snagged Devlin’s attention. Tara. She and her sister wound their way back to the table, attracting the attention of nearly every man in the bar. She was gorgeous. They both were.
Sometimes you’ve got to work with what you’ve got.
And what did he have? A powerful need for a woman. A woman who was attracted to him, but probably nothing more. Was that enough to work with?
“And what if you don’t have enough?”
Charlie followed his gaze and clapped Devlin on the shoulder. “You always have enough,” he said. “Sometimes you just have to get creative with it.”
Resolve formed in Devlin’s gut. Yeah, maybe all he had with her was some casual attraction, a fleeting fuckery…for now. But if he was determined, and if he worked what he had very hard, maybe someday it could be more.
But he would have to step c
autiously with her. Let their…whatever it was sink slowly into a relationship. This he knew, understood, on an instinctual level. If he pushed too hard or moved too fast, he could lose her.
She wanted casual? He’d give her casual. And hope she didn’t just take what she wanted and then waltz away. Sure, it was a risky strategy—one might even call it a dare—but what choice did he have?
And maybe, if he was very lucky, he’d keep her long enough. Long enough for her to change her mind about him. About them. He not only wanted something beyond casual. He needed it.
As soon as the ladies returned to the table, Charlie took Tina out “for a spin” on the dance floor, maneuvering his chair through the crowd like a pro. And contrary to Devlin’s expectations, the patrons of the bar did not stare at him or laugh or talk about him behind his back. They cheered him on.
It was a huge relief.
Devlin shifted his attention to Tara, sitting next to him, watching the couples twirl on the floor. God she was beautiful. Her dark eyes, her silky hair, the cut of her cheek. Her warmth. He wanted her.
Oh, he had wanted her all night. Before that. Always.
But this was a deeper kind of want. His resolve swelled.
The band started a new song, a slower one.
Devlin ginned. Perfect.
“Shall we dance?”
Her gaze snapped to his. Surprise flared on her delicate features. Really? Had she not expected this?
“I…ah. I’m not much of a dancer.” She glanced back out at the floor.
He took her hand and stood. “It’s easy,” he said with a wink. “All you have to do is hold on.”
And she better hold on. He was taking her for a ride she would never forget.
Chapter Fifteen
Lord, he smelled good. That was the only thought in Tara’s head as she followed Devlin out onto the dance floor. She trailed in his wake, suffused by the scent of his cologne. But it wasn’t his cologne…it was him.
When he turned and pulled her into his arms—sealing them together, probably too close, but not nearly close enough—all thoughts flew from her head. A memory, a visceral memory, engulfed her. The two of them, entwined.
“I like this music.” His voice rumbled through her as they moved to the beat.
