by Leah Braemel
A couple weeks after Phil had come to live with her. He’d been stealing from her this whole time? She clutched the arms of the chair and took several deep breaths. With the anger surging through her at the moment, Phil would be lucky if the police would pick him up before she found him, because right now she had an urge to throttle him.
“Since you’ve already frozen your credit with the bureaus, that’ll stop him from getting any more cards or credit, but you’ll have to notify each of them that the account was opened fraudulently. They’re also going to want to make sure fraud charges are laid against him. I’m sorry, but the sheriff’s office will have to be notified.”
Twenty minutes later, Nicole stumbled from Missy’s office and nearly ran into another customer. The woman grabbed her arm and steadied her. “Hey, hon, you all right?”
Nikki stared blankly at her for a second before her brain clicked in on the woman’s identity. Oh, great, this was so not the way she wanted to meet Dillon’s mother. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look fine. Should I call Dillon for you?”
“No, it’s all right. Really.” Once I get my hands around Phillip’s neck and watch his eyes bulge out of his frickin’ head.
Dillon’s mom linked her arm with Nikki’s. “Well, now, you come with me and let me buy you a cup of coffee. I’ve been wanting to talk with you anyway.”
“Dillon told me you were thinking of having something up at the church to help out. You really don’t need to go to all the bother. I’ll be fine.”
“That’s what he told me you’d say.” She squeezed Nikki’s arm. “But that’s not what I want to talk with you about.”
Aw, crap. Let the floor open up and swallow me whole. My boyfriend’s mother wants to talk with me. Last time that happened, Wade’s mother had offered her a cashier’s check to say the baby she was carrying wasn’t her grandchild—with a little something extra, as she’d put it, so she wouldn’t hold Wade back by forcing him to marry her. “Honestly, I’m fine. I should be getting out of your hair.”
Dillon’s mom fixed her with a stern look. Wow, how did Dillon manage to get away with half the stuff he’d told her about with a mother who could give that look?
“Now, honey, I am not going to let you get in a car and drive right now. You look like a hummingbird could knock you down.”
Sensing it would be easier to stand against a rampaging bull than stand up to Mrs. Barnett, Nikki allowed herself to be towed out of the bank and along the main street toward the coffee shop. She found herself seated at a table and a coffee placed in front of her before she knew it.
“Honestly, I’m fine, Mrs. Barnett. You didn’t have to go through all this bother.”
“Nonsense. And call me Faith—there are so many Mrs. Barnetts in our family, you’re likely to have six women thinking you’re talkin’ to them.” Faith reached over and patted her hand. “I’m so glad to have run into you. I’ve been hoping for a chance to get to talk with you away from Dillon.”
Oh, shit. Here came the “you’re not good enough for my son, how much will it take to make you go away” speech.
“I was hoping I’d see you both for Sunday dinner, but I understand you weren’t up to socializing.”
She didn’t need a mirror to know that a blush was spreading over her face. Once he’d returned from whatever errand his grandmother wanted him to do, she and Dillon had spent most of Sunday afternoon in his bed. “I didn’t know Dillon was expected for dinner. He never mentioned anything about it to me.”
“He said something about you being asleep when he phoned to tell me he wasn’t comin’ over.” The glint in Faith’s eyes and the twitch at the end of her lips told Nikki she knew exactly what they’d been doing. “I hope you’ll both come over next Sunday. I do love to have my family all together—they’re growin’ up so fast. With Dillon and Brett out of the house, and Griffin away—first at school, then doin’ his training, I want to enjoy my family bein’ together as often as I can.”
“I’m sure I’ll be back in my own place by next Sunday, but I’ll make sure to remind Dillon and Brett not to disappoint you.”
A shadow flickered across Faith’s face but disappeared so quickly, Nikki questioned whether she’d seen it at all. “How are they getting along? With Brett staying out there?”
“Fine. Why? Have they been having a fight?”
Faith pursed her lips then picked up her coffee and took a sip, as if she needed to consider her answer. “Not recently, no.” She waved her hand. “I’m being an over-protective mother, don’t mind me. I just wanted to make sure they didn’t butt heads—they’re both stubborn boys.”
Although she had the feeling she was missing a large part of the picture, Nikki didn’t feel comfortable asking Faith anything more. She could always collar Dillon about it later. Or Brett.
Faith put down her coffee and checked her watch, then grimaced. “I lost all sense of time. I’m sorry, hon, but I’ve gotta get goin’. I gotta pick Lilly up at school and drive her into town for a dentist appointment.” She stood up and tucked her purse beneath her elbow. “You make sure you come over on Sunday. If you’re back in your place, just drive on over. And if that truck of yours gives you any problems and Dillon or Brett aren’t around, you just holler, and I’ll send Jackson or Griffin over to fetch you.”
Nikki opened the door to Dillon’s place and stood in the hall. How are they getting along? With Brett staying out there?
What was it Mrs. Barnett had been worried about? Weren’t Dillon and Brett best friends?
“Hey, Nik. Did you get everything straightened out at the bank?” Brett called from the top of the stairs, interrupting her musing.
She glanced up, and all thoughts of Mrs. Barnett evaporated. Brett must have been in the middle of changing into his uniform, but only gotten the bottom half of it on before she’d come home.
Man, he looked good without a shirt. He could have been Mr. July in one of those beefcake calendars. Maybe she should suggest it as a fundraiser next time the police benefit people called for a donation.
Not an ounce of flesh jiggled when he walked down the stairs. It didn’t take a uniform to command her attention. Brett was all man, hinting at a barely controlled passion as he prowled across the front hall toward her. “Nik? Did you have any problems with the truck?”
“Uh, no. It works fine.” She closed her mouth and swallowed. Stop looking at his chest. Look at his face.
“Nikki? Is everything all right”
“Oh, um, yeah, I talked with Dillon’s aunt. You know, she’s the bank manager.”
He nodded, his lips crooking up slightly as if he were trying not to smile. “Yeah, I know Missy.”
Of course he’d know Dillon’s aunt is the bank manager, you dumb-ass. He’d practically been adopted by the Barnetts, after all.
Shit, he smelled wonderful, all clean soap and an understated cologne. He was more like a big brother, not her lover. So why was her pulse spiking into triple digits as she imagined Brett holding her, kissing her? Especially considering the number of times she’d had sex with Dillon in the past couple of days. It’s not like she was starved for sex or anything.
Dillon. She closed her eyes and let the image of him, of how he’d managed to make her laugh, of his quiet assurance, remind her that he was the one she wanted. Not Brett.
“You were saying something about Missy?”
“Um, yes.” Geez, Nicole, what is going on with you? “Missy says Phil must have ordered a duplicate bank card somehow and cleaned out my accounts. And he’s taken out nineteen credit cards in my name. So it was a good thing you made sure I put a freeze on my credit.”
The latent passion toward Brett leeched away as what Phil had done to her snaked back. Phil had been living with her, eating her food, sleeping in her spare bedroom, and the whole time he’d been stealing from her. His own sister. How could he have done that? Didn’t he have any sort of a conscien
ce?
But was she any better? She was sleeping with Dillon—she was fairly certain she’d fallen head-over-teakettle for him—yet here she was, lusting after Brett at the same time. The Kimball genes had to be really screwed up. “I’m sorry.”
Brett wrapped his arms around her, cupping her head until her cheek rested on his chest. “Hey, it’s all right.”
Not wanting to admit to her failings, yet unable to pull away, Nikki leaned into him, her arms snaking around his waist. “I know, it’s just…”
The whole week, from the length of the trip up to Muncie and seeing the horrific conditions Bashir had been living in, to the truck breaking down, to arriving home and discovering Phil had ripped her off for everything she owned, to the bank, to being torn between loving Dillon and thinking there might be something between her and Brett…it all came crashing down on her. Her breathing uneven, she struggled not to give in to the tears that threatened to spill.
“He took things my grandma had given me that can never be replaced.” She lost her fight as tears cascaded down her cheeks. “They’re gone, Brett. Everything’s gone.”
“Oh, honey.” Brett’s arms tightened around her. He rocked her, murmuring soft words that didn’t penetrate the sobs that clawed their way out until she couldn’t draw a full breath. He bent down and placed an arm beneath her knees, lifting her into his arms. As if she weighed nothing at all, he carried her to the couch, settling down with her on his lap.
She buried her face in his chest, wanting to crawl into him, to cover herself with his strength like it was a blanket. Her breath still catching in her throat, her body still shuddering, she blubbered into his chest. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being a wuss. They’re just things, I know.”
“It’s all right, Nik, you don’t have to explain.”
And she didn’t. She knew Brett understood she wasn’t just crying about her belongings, she was crying about everything. Her failed marriage, the baby she’d lost. Her hopes and her dreams that had died with it. The family she should have been able to trust, to count on, but couldn’t.
Without her having to say a word, he understood.
She lifted her head and found his expression filled with compassion. As she watched, something dark filled his eyes. A smoldering heat, a promise of danger, and unrivalled passion.
He lowered his head until his lips were inches from hers, then stilled, hovering so close his breath tickled her face.
What were they doing? She stiffened in his arms, pressing her hands against his chest. “Brett, no. I’m with Dillon.”
The darkness in his eyes disappeared. His mouth opened a couple times before he finally strangled out, “I gotta go.”
Half shoving her off his lap, he stood and dashed out of the room. His footsteps thudded up the stairs, then moments later down again. She found him in the hallway, shrugging on his shirt, belt slung over his shoulder, his holster thumping against his chest. He yanked open the door and was out on the porch before he turned around.
“I gotta go,” he repeated.
“Brett? Wait!” She raced toward the door as he jumped off the porch. By the time she reached the porch, his car was gunning down the drive, leaving a plume of dust in its wake.
What had just happened?
She sat down on the top step of the porch with a thump. Had he really been about to kiss her? No. She must have read it wrong; Brett wouldn’t poach on another man’s girlfriend. Besides, she’d asked Brett if he was still interested in her, and he’d said he wasn’t.
Yeah, she had to be imagining things.
Chapter Six
Nikki brushed the strand of hair that had fallen into Dillon’s eyes from when he’d laid his head on her lap. Hoping she didn’t rouse him, she pushed the porch swing with her feet.
The way Brett had lowered his head, not only this afternoon but back that first night, niggled at the back of her mind. She couldn’t deny it made her all squidgy inside to think that maybe he’d been tempted to kiss her, just for a second.
So why was she gnawing on her thumbnail down to the quick if she was so flattered?
Because they both meant so much to her. Brett, for his quiet support and friendship over the years, and Dillon…because he was Dillon. He was just as supportive as Brett, but he made her laugh. Where she was a glass-half-empty person, Dillon’s glass was full to the brim. Being around him made everything seem possible.
If Dillon thought Brett was attracted to her too, wouldn’t he be jealous? It could tear them apart. They may not be related by blood, but they were as close as any brothers she’d ever known. Who was she to destroy that friendship, that bond, because of an overactive imagination? Even if they didn’t blame her, their family would lay the blame at her feet.
After all, Dillon was a Barnett. Of the Barnett County Barnetts. As in Barnett Lumber, and Barnett Pharmacy. Barnett Auto, Barnett Real Estate. Heck, Doc Barnett, her horses’ veterinarian, was Dillon’s uncle. Then there was Mayor Barnett, a second cousin twice removed. His family even had a state senator in their family tree.
They had oil and cattle. They had money. Old money. Well, not Dillon’s particular branch, but it was around. His family was better off than her family had ever been.
You? What have you got to show for yourself? An empty house, thanks to Phil, on a piddling forty acres compared to Dillon’s two-fifty or his family’s seventeen hundred.
They’d have heard the trash talk Wade’s family spread around about her. Heaven knows all the gossip at school had spread fast enough. About how she’d trapped Wade into marriage by deliberately getting pregnant in senior year. Neither Wade nor her in-laws had ever once acknowledged it had been an accident, thanks to a broken condom.
Surely the Barnetts would expect him to carry on the Barnett name. Something she’d not be able to offer considering she’d probably be unable to carry any more babies to full term, even if she could get pregnant. Which meant they wouldn’t want her to be part of his future.
God, it was going to be so tough to have to live next to him, watch him dating someone else. Because sooner or later, that’s what she’d have to do.
Dillon lifted his arm and peered out from under it. “You’re thinkin’ so hard I can hear the gears grinding.”
She forced a smile and rolled her head back to face him. “It’s nothing.”
A couple moments passed as he considered her. He shifted until he was sitting, then cupped her cheek with his palm, his thumb stroking her jaw. “Are you regretting being with me? Did I push you too fast? Because if I did, we can slow things down.”
Did he want to slow things down? Her grip on the swing tightened. “You didn’t push me, Dillon. I like being here with you. Did you want to slow things down?”
“Nope, I like things just the way they are. I’m kicking myself that I took so long to ask you out.”
A warm glow started in her belly while knots grew in her throat. She blinked several times, trying to ignore the feeling. “You’ve been a good friend to me, Dillon. I don’t want to lose that.”
“You won’t lose me. Not now. Not later. I promise. You mean something to me, Nik. You always have.” His voice dropped a half octave on the last word. As if to seal the promise, he dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers, his breath a warm whisper across her cheek, an unseen caress. When she relaxed her jaw and parted her lips, his kiss grew stronger, his tongue softly sweeping into her mouth, exploring, testing.
His hand traced down her side, then slipped between her thighs, beneath her skirt. He slid one calloused finger between her labia, parting them, sliding beside her clit, but not touching it.
Wanting him to feel the same heat, she slid her hand between them and unzipped his jeans. The barrier between them removed, she wrapped her hand around his cock.
His hand closed around hers, stilling her. “You’re playin’ with fire you know, Nik.”
“I thought I was playin’ with you.”
“This isn’t playin’ we’re
doing, Nik. I’m dead serious here. I want to get to know everything about you. From what you’re thinking about right now to what drives you crazy with need, even what makes you make that soft little moan you do right before you come.”
Geez, the man had a way of crawling into her chest and into her heart. If she stayed with him much longer, she’d lose it completely. “So how come I can’t explore you?”
“Oh, you’ll have your chance, but right now it’s my turn.”
“What? Are you going to tie me up if I touch you?”
His grin slowly widened, and his eyes sparkled with humor. “If I have to.”
A thrill shot through her. Why did her heart do this little flip every time he grinned?
“Hmph, as if.” She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and teased his bulging head with her thumb.
Before she knew it, she found herself over his shoulder, the air jarred out of her lungs with every step he took through the kitchen and up the stairs. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you not to doubt me.” He lowered her onto his bed. “Be a good girl, get your clothes off, then lie back and grab the headboard.”
Rolling her eyes, she did as he asked, watching him open a dresser drawer. Her heart did that little flippy thing again when he pulled out two ties and dangled them over her chest.
“You’re not really going to tie me up, are you?” Holy shit, why was her body reacting as if it was a good thing? Oh, yeah, because it had long been a fantasy to be tied to Dillon’s bed and at his mercy.
He hadn’t planned on tying her down, but now that she was on his bed, her legs sprawled open, he couldn’t resist. If nothing else, he’d find some way of distracting her from whatever had been bothering her downstairs. Something had happened. Maybe her parents had called and given her grief for still being in his house instead of moving back to hers? Whatever it was, he had to find some way to make her relax.
