Damn. Wherever that stupid phone was, he had missed her contacting him. “He’s stable. Has a long road, but he’s doing a little better every day. And sorry. I don’t know where my phone is.”
“And Max?”
“Doing well. My sister is with him right now. Sorry I didn’t get to see you when I came to get him. You were at lunch.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she responded. He didn’t like how aloof she sounded, like she was just making regular small talk with an acquaintance. “I know you’ve had a hell of a week.”
“Guess we both have,” he laughed, though it wasn’t funny.
She gave him a sad look that he couldn’t quite decipher, then walked silently next to him all the way back to Sam’s trailer, making him wonder what exactly he missed about the rest of her week.
Act normal, she told herself. Not like you didn’t just see the most beautiful model you’ve ever seen grabbing Brant’s ass and obviously propositioning him. She wasn’t sure who she wanted to smack more: the model, for thinking so little of herself; Sam, for manipulating her into coming there, or Brant, for making her feel something when she saw that. She was angry. And jealous. That was a feeling she hadn’t had… ever.
He hadn’t called her back when she texted him, then called him last night. She figured that he saw her as he should see her: a selfish, cowardly woman that didn’t think of anyone but herself. Here he was, having the worst week, and she couldn’t even ask him how he was doing or offer to help him with his dog. Some friend she was. After he had taken her out to lunch and offered to cook her dinner.
And now, to see him here, in his element, it threw her for a loop. When her eyes had zeroed in on that body, standing there in a low-hung pair of board shorts and no shirt, she swore steam must’ve come out of her pores she was so hot and bothered. His tanned, muscular body had cuts and rivets of muscle she wasn’t sure she had ever seen up close on a man before. Actually, she was sure she had never seen them, except in magazines and on television. She knew before then that he obviously had a great body; clothes couldn’t hide that. But to see him like that was something else entirely. That man put the word sexy to shame.
His hair had been purposefully tousled, and the look he had on his face when he looked at the camera could only be described as sex. Hot, molten, I-can’t-wait-to-have-you sex. His body had been glistening with whatever they put on him for the camera, and she swore that he was even wearing some makeup. She would’ve stood there forever, watching the conundrum that was Brant Tucker, if it hadn’t been for her. That model that made it well known she would sleep with him. Why were some women—and men for that matter—like that? Why did they think so low of themselves? While she wasn’t a virgin, she had never found the use or desire to have a one-night (or one day) fling with someone.
They reached Sam’s trailer, having walked the entire way there in silence. Lacey knocked on the door, not sure if she wanted to deck or hug her best friend for manipulating her. She should’ve put two and two together, remembering that Brant had a shoot this weekend, but of course after the whirlwind week, she had forgotten.
“Sam?” Lacey knocked on the door, then opened it. Sam sat on the small couch, grinning from ear to ear, her phone in her hand. Lacey narrowed her eyes at her as Brant walked in behind her. Sam looked at him, then back at Lacey and lifted her eyebrow.
“Hey Lace, Brant,” she said coolly, standing up to hug Lacey. “How’d the shoot go, Brant?”
“It went,” Brant answered. “Stu’s a genius. I’m sure the photos will be killer. Between the individual shots, group shots, and all the in between, I’m sure he nailed it. He’s one of the best in the business. I’m just glad it’s over. I have so much on my plate right now, if it hadn’t have been really important, I probably would’ve canceled it.”
“But then you wouldn’t have met Lizzy,” Lacey said, not able to help herself.
“Lizzy?” Sam questioned.
“Oh she was the model Brant was paired with for the last part of the shoot. She was quite… enamored with him.”
Sam laughed. “Ohhhhh… jealousy. That’s a side of you I like seeing, Lacey.”
It was Brant’s turn to laugh, and Lacey felt the blush creeping up her chest and face. She had been trying to be sarcastic, but she guessed that didn’t work out for her very well.
“I like it too,” Brant said, his rumbling laughter doing a number on her. “Believe me, Lizzy types are a dime a dozen in this industry, Doc. It’s part of the job. There was no way I was taking her back to my trailer, whether I would’ve seen you there or not.”
Lacey had nothing else to say after that, so she turned back to Sam. “Nice work getting me here, by the way, dear friend.”
Sam grinned, twisting her long hair into a bun and kicking off the heels she had worn for her last set. “Hey, once I met Brant here and figured out who he was, I thought, hey, what do I have to lose? You’re my best friend, you need a kick in the pants…”
“Samantha Kerrigan-Warner,” Lacey warned, and both Sam and Brant laughed. This was a losing battle, and she knew it. They had joined sides.
“How about that dinner I owe you?”
They were walking out to their cars, and Lacey’s mind had been racing with the possibility of what she wanted from Brant. Or with Brant. When he offered the dinner she had missed earlier in the week, her spirits lifted.
“Really?”
Brant smiled, bumping her playfully. “Yes! I don’t know what I have at home, with the crazy week I’ve had, but we can order in something. Now that my shoot’s over, I can be a little bad.”
Those words echoed through her. A little bad. She knew that he didn’t mean it the way she was taking it, but it made her think about how many other ways he could be bad. “That sounds great, Brant. I can check on Max, too, see how he’s healing.”
“I’m sure the big guy would love that,” Brant said, unlocking his truck and throwing his bag in the back. “Everyone feels better when a beautiful woman is around.”
Lacey groaned and he laughed. She was enjoying their banter. “I’m sorry that I didn’t contact you this week. It’s been a hard week for me as well, but that’s no excuse.” The amount of relief she felt that her mammogram had been clear rushed through her again. She had been so afraid of that for the last year for nothing. She was healthy, and maybe that was a sign that she needed to start living a little more.
“It’s no big deal, Lacey. I’m glad that I ran into you today. Want to follow me to my house? It’s about thirty minutes from here. Oh, and I need to stop at the hospital and find my cell phone.”
“Sounds good,” Lacey agreed. She walked to her car, her thoughts a jumbled mess and butterflies in her stomach.
They pulled into his driveway, and Lacey looked around. It was an older home, obviously restored, as was most of the neighborhood. A big oak tree shaded most of the front yard.
“Ready?” Brant appeared at her door, and she got out and followed him to the front door. A small woof sounded from somewhere in the house. Brant opened the door and let her in ahead of him. His house was amazing. But she was distracted by the beautiful woman that came from the kitchen.
“Hey! How was the…” she stopped as she caught sight of Lacey.
Brant put his hand on the small of Lacey’s back, propelling her forward. “Lacey, this is my sister Heather. Heather, this is Dr. Lacey Russell. She was one of Max’s doctors this past week.”
Heather smiled, extending her hand to Lacey. “Nice to meet you, Lacey. So a vet, huh? You here to check on Max?”
Lacey blushed, taking in Brant’s sister that could’ve followed in her big brother’s footsteps and been a model. “Well…”
“She’s here to have dinner with me,” Brant saved her. “How’s Max been? I stopped at the hospital to find my phone and dad was sleeping. Mom and Brooke said that he had been asleep most of the day.”
“He laid right on his bed all day like a good little boy. He hobbled out to use th
e bathroom a few times, and slept the rest of the time. I’m going to get back to the hospital. How was the shoot?”
“It was a shoot,” Brant answered, making his way to the family room. Lacey followed, giving Heather a small smile.
“Nice to meet you, Lacey. See you later, Brant,” Heather said, grabbing her keys.
“You too, Heather,” Lacey responded. “I’m very sorry to hear about your dad, also.”
“He’s a tough guy, but thanks. It’s hard to see him that way.” With that, Heather left, leaving Lacey alone in the house with Brant. And Max.
She turned back, seeing Brant crouched down on the floor, his head pressed to Max’s. He was talking to him softly, and Max had rolled onto his side, lifting his leg so Brant could scratch his stomach. Lacey got down next to him, the doctor in her taking over as she carefully unwrapped his leg so she could check the incision.
Brant continued stroking the dog as she looked at him, neither of them saying a word. Satisfied with what she saw, she wrapped it back up carefully. “Looks like you’re doing well, Max,” she crooned, caressing his soft head. “You aren’t going to be relegated to the cone either, buddy. Nice job leaving it alone.”
Sitting back and crossing her legs, she looked over at Brant, who was watching her closely. “He really is okay? I can’t take any more bad news this week.”
“It looks great,” Lacey said. “He’s a model patient. This is why I would rather work with animals. They’re so much better than people, and it’s totally acceptable for them to lick you or put their head in your lap as a thanks.”
Brant laughed. “That’s so true.” Standing up, he held out his hand to help her off the floor. She gripped his strong hand, trying to ignore the feeling it gave her to touch him. “Are you getting hungry? I could eat a small cow.”
Now it was Lacey’s turn to laugh. “I could eat, yes, though I don’t know about a small cow.”
“Pizza and wings okay with you? I’ve been in shoot mode this whole week, so its splurge night.”
“Sounds great to me,” she said, watching Brant as he strolled out of the room and into the kitchen. It almost felt… normal to be here with him, which was crazy because she barely knew him.
Max lifted up his head and met her eyes, then slowly stood up. His leg was supported enough for him to move, but it made her nervous anyway. “What’s the matter, boy? You need to go outside?”
He moved towards her instead of to the door, so she wasn’t sure if he needed to go out or not. When he reached the couch she was sitting on, he laid his big head on her leg, his handsome brown eyes looking up at her. His little nub of a tail wagged furiously as she stroked his soft fur.
“I walk out of the room for a minute and look at you, moving in on the lady already. What, do you think she can’t resist your big brown eyes or your soft fur?”
Max turned only his eyes to look at Brant, then looked back at her. She continued to stroke his head, trying hard not to laugh. She had always attracted the animals. That’s what made her a good vet, because they seemed to know that she loved them and just relaxed around her.
Brant sat next to her, but Max still didn’t move. “Traitor,” he mumbled. “Beautiful doctor and all of a sudden you’re ready to turn me in.” He looked at Lacey out of the corner of his eye and smiled. “If he was able, he’d have his rope and be putting that in your lap to play. But, he doesn’t share it. He acts like he wants you to play, but he really just wants to put that drool-infested toy in your lap and torture you with it. He won’t give it up to let you throw it.”
“I think I’m glad that you aren’t well enough then,” Lacey said to Max. “But you do need to rest that leg, big guy. Can we move his bed over here so he can be near us, so he feels better?”
Brant shook his head in mock annoyance. “Who knew I’d have to compete against my own dog on my date,” he murmured, winking at her as he moved Max’s bed over next to the couch. Max laid down, his head on the top of Lacey’s feet. “Dinner will be here in thirty minutes. I brought you a beer, but I also have soda or water. I thought we could get to know each other a little more, you know, kind of try to forget the bad week we’ve both had.”
Lacey took the beer from his hand and took a sip, wanting nothing more at that moment than to not talk about herself.
She sat back, so full she thought she might explode. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten that much. Lacey wasn’t sure if it was the beer, the warm dog at her feet, or the intoxicating man next to her, but she had spilled more about herself in the last two hours than she thought she might’ve ever told anyone except Sam.
Brant had started, telling her about growing up a Tucker and how he had gotten into modeling and some of the trips he had taken and the things he had been featured in. He had told her about his little sisters, whom she now knew he thought the world of. He told her all about his best friend Evan and how he and his sisters had been the only ones he had turned to over the last nine years for support.
She had found herself telling him all about her childhood, and how much fun they had as a family before her mom got sick. For once, when he pressed about her mom she didn’t balk and pull back. She told him all she remembered about the days leading up to her mom’s death, what her childhood had turned into after that, and how she had gotten where she was now. She told him how her dad was a shell of a man that had nothing to do with his daughters and refused to get involved with anyone ever again, and how that affected her perception of relationships. She told him all about Sam and how their friendship had saved her on so many levels, so many times during her life. It seemed that once she started talking to him, she couldn’t stop. She had even told him about the mammogram she had just had. She couldn’t believe she had said that, but it was almost like she just had to tell someone that she was okay.
Brant laced his fingers with hers, both of them thinking quietly over what they had learned about the other in the last few hours. “Lacey,” he said, and her stomach clenched at his tone. He lifted their joined hands and pressed his warm lips to her hand. She wasn’t sure she was breathing. That was the most sensual thing she had felt in a really long time, and all he did was kiss her hand. “Thank you.”
She could barely make her mouth form words. “For?”
“Telling me all of that about you. Being here tonight. For being you. I knew I was right about you.” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “When I first saw you, I knew there was something about you that was different than most women. Now that I know a little more about what makes you the person you are, I know I was more than just right. You’re an amazingly strong woman.”
Why did she feel like crying right now? So what if that was the sweetest, most heartfelt thing she had ever heard from a man, including her own father? That didn’t mean she had to cry over it.
“Thank you,” she said, and meant it. “Thank you for trusting me, also.”
“He’s a good judge of character,” Brant joked, indicating Max. “And since he’s totally in love with you, I’m pretty sure I’m safe.”
“Is that right? Maybe he’s leading you into a trap that I’ve conspired with him to set.”
Brant looked at Max, then her. “If you have a trap for me, I’ll follow you right into it willingly.” She blinked, believing exactly what he said, and that scared her a little. Did she want that kind of power over someone?
She yawned, looking up at the clock and realizing it was getting late and she still had a half hour drive back home. “I better get going.” Max lifted his head, staring at her.
“He doesn’t like that either,” Brant said, swiping her hair off her shoulder. Just that small motion had goose bumps breaking out on her arms. She wondered if he noticed. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
Lacey’s initial reaction was to say no right out of the gate, but she found herself pausing before turning him down. What reason did she have to do that? “I’d like that, Brant.”
He smiled, standing up and pulling
her to her feet, much to the chagrin of the big Rottweiler on her feet. Max put his head back on the floor, his eyes following the two of them. “Can I walk you out?”
Butterflies attacked her stomach without warning. She had practically bared her soul to this guy over the last few hours, but she was now nervous about him walking her to the car? She really needed to get a grip.
Grabbing her purse and saying goodbye to Max, she led the way out of the house and to her car. The neighborhood was well-lit, but they were still thrust into darkness together. Looking up, she saw a full moon shining brightly in the sky, stars accenting the sky like they were the runway for the moon.
“Gorgeous,” she heard Brant murmur, and she turned to look at him, thinking he was looking at the same sky she was. Except he was looking at her. The breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes. She’d seen that look before. It was when the photographer wanted him to look seductive. But he had been acting then. Was he acting now?
Backing up until she reached her car door, Brant caged her in, his legs on either side of hers. It was so quiet out here that she swore he had to hear her heart thrumming like a hummingbird.
Before she knew it, he closed the remaining distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. As soon as the velvety goodness that was him touched her, she fought not to whimper. He was so warm, so soft. His hands cupped the sides of her face as he pulled slightly away, his eyes watching hers in the moonlight before he moved in and kissed her again. He didn’t try to open her mouth, or go any further than just lips on lips, but she never wanted it to end. It had to be the sexiest first kiss she had ever been given, yet the simplest.
“Goodnight, Lacey,” he whispered against her lips. “Sweet dreams.” She knew that her dreams would be very sweet tonight.
Brant sat at the island in his kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee and bagel. He knew the coffee was cold, since he had been sitting here so long thinking about her that he hadn’t touched it. His sleep had been riddled with dreams about a dark haired, blue-eyed doctor that had taken residence in his heart, and he had woken up with the urge to call her just to hear her voice. But that had been at five in the morning, and he figured she wouldn’t have appreciated that.
Finding Forever (Living Again #4) Page 8