“I know! Glad you’re having fun.”
“Oh, I am.” As a slower song began, Scarlett shook her head. “Let’s skip this one. I’m thirsty.”
They made their way to the edges, headed back to the bar. “Wine again?”
“Could I have some water too?”
“Sure.” Brad took a step and turned back when a voice called her name.
“Scarlett?”
She also turned, hearing her name. “Scarlett O’Reilly. It is you.”
“It’s Harrison now,” she corrected, smiling brightly as the man approached. Tried to place him. Beside her, Brad froze. The man held out his hand in greeting. “It’s me. Tommy Rourke. I was, well, still am, a friend of Sean’s.”
“That’s right! Tommy!” Her smile widened and she shook his hand. He’d gained about twenty pounds. Hair had started to recede.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Sean told me. My Karen died three years ago. Leukemia. Been a single dad since then. My Kyle is three.”
“My daughter is four. And I remember Karen,” Scarlett said. His wife had been a perky, bubbly basketball star, the type that you couldn’t hate or envy because she was simply so darn nice. “She was a senior, I think, when I was a freshman.”
Tommy smiled, pleased she’d remembered. “That’s right, you also went to DuBourg. Sean and I were at SLUH. Karen and I met at one of those mixers. High school sweethearts. Like you and Todd. And this is…”
Scarlett’s hand flew in front of her mouth, embarrassed. What must Brad think? Beside her, he stood statue still. “Oh, sorry. Tommy, this is Brad Silverman. He and my husband were best friends. He’s technically my landlord. I’m renting his house on Victor. Just off Grand. I moved back a few weeks ago.”
“Really? That’s not too far from me. Just a few blocks south, if that. St. Pius, right?”
“Yes.” Living in San Diego for the past ten years, she’d forgotten just how much St. Louisans defined themselves by where they went to high school or where they went to church. It instantly defined your social class.
Tommy sized up Brad, who stood at least eight inches taller. He reached his hand out and Brad shook it. Must have gripped hard because Tommy hid a wince. “Nice to meet you, Brad. Glad you could help Scarlett out.” Tommy turned back to Scarlett before Brad could answer. “I don’t want to keep you, but I’d love to catch up sometime. Will you be at the fish fry next Friday?”
Scarlett laughed. “My parents are already recruiting me to work the dessert table.”
Tommy’s smile widened. “Perfect. I’ll be there. Never miss it if I can help it. We can catch up then. If I don’t see you later, have fun tonight.”
“Thanks. You too.” Scarlett stared after him as Tommy merged into the crowd. She turned to Brad. “That’s a friend of my brother’s.”
“So I gathered,” Brad said, his expression inscrutable.
She frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” Brad shrugged. He’d discarded the suit coat, leaving it at their table while they’d been dancing. He snagged two bottles of water from a roaming waiter.
Scarlett planted her hand on her hip, used the other to hold the bottle of water Brad had gotten. “That’s just Tommy. Friend of my brother’s.”
“You already said that.” Brad uncapped his water. She continued to stare at him. He cupped her elbow, moved her out of traffic. “He was hitting on you, that’s all.”
She frowned. “No, he wasn’t. He was being friendly.”
“If I wasn’t here, he’d be all over you. He’s a widower with a kid your daughter’s age.”
“Which means nothing,” Scarlett scolded.
As if choosing his words, Brad took a sip. “It means he’s lonely and looking. I know the type.”
“Please. It’s nothing to hang out with someone at the fish fry. I’ll be serving cake with my mom. Hardly a place where I’m going to be ravaged, wouldn’t you agree?”
“It’s just ironic that I brought you to fend off the women and it’s you who is getting hit on. He asked you out and you don’t see it.”
“Well, I haven’t dated anyone except Todd. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I feel as if you’re making this my fault.”
“No.” He held up the bottle in defense. This conversation was not going well. “That’s not my intention at all. I have no control over you and I know that. I just…”
Brad stopped before he said too much. Todd’s instructions were that she be happy. That she find someone so she didn’t go through the rest of her life alone. But the moment he’d walked into her house and seen her standing there, looking like a goddess in her dark blue dress, he’d wanted nothing more than to touch her. He wanted to run his fingers from the dip behind her ear to the indentation at the base of her throat. Then he wanted to replace his fingers with his lips so he could plant kisses on her lovely, creamy skin. He wanted to take the pins out of hair the color of sunset and let the waves pool around her shoulders. She placed her empty water bottle on a nearby table. “Can we dance more? I haven’t danced in forever and I’m really enjoying it. I don’t want seeing Tommy to spoil anything.”
“Sure.” Brad added his empty bottle to the collection on the table. Dancing was safe, and he was probably being unreasonable. But the rush of jealousy that had hit him when Tommy had approached had been almost overpowering. For a man who prided himself on control, he hated that he’d lost it, even if for a moment.
“I like this song. Let’s forget everything and just have fun,” she urged.
“Agreed.” Brad forced himself to relax. He didn’t want to ruin their night. Besides, wasn’t that the point of Mardi Gras, to party with abandon until after Fat Tuesday? For once Ash Wednesday and Lent arrived, forty days of piety followed and you were supposed to give something up so you could focus on what the coming of the Lord meant.
Although after leaving Catholic high school, Brad had never been very successful with anything but the debauchery. One time he and some of his SEAL buddies had taken their leave in New Orleans. The endless party had been a good time, what little he remembered of it. Of course, he’d given up his wayward ways pretty quickly. The job had always come first, and he’d tired quickly of that “being out of control” thing. He followed Scarlett onto the dance floor where they joined the crowd belting out the lyrics to Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll.”
After several songs, the music slowed down. He made a move toward the bar, but a hand on his arm stopped him. She said, placing her hand on his arm, “I like this song.”
For a second, Brad stilled. He’d avoided slow dancing with her at her wedding. Put on the spot, he couldn’t refuse her without being a schmuck. “You sure you aren’t tired?”
She gave him an odd look. “No. You promised me fun. Dance with me. You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
“No.” Yes.
“So what’s the problem? Is it still Tommy?”
“No.” It’s intimate, that’s all. But he couldn’t use that excuse, and he wanted to hold her. And she’d asked him. He led her to the dance floor and gathered her into arms. Slid his hands onto her hips and felt the weight of her arms as she placed them around his neck. He’d held her closer during a brief hug after the funeral, but that had been different. Sobering. Comforting. Almost rote. Expected. Medicinal.
Desire flared through him, sending heat to his groin. His erection pressed into her; he couldn’t hide it. Her eyes widened, and she hid her reaction by resting her head on his chest, just below his chin. His hands splayed across the small of her back. The scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils with the aroma of faint vanilla. The skin on the inside of her wrist hinted of apples, roses and musk, a heady combination. They moved in sync to the beat—a step-and-sway motion that seemed as natural as breathing. He wanted her. There was no denying that.
Her green eyes reflected the colorful lights giving the dance floor its club-like atmosphere. She lifted a hand and ran it along his cheek. “Thank you,” she sai
d.
Her words caught him by surprise, and he captured her hand, brought it into the narrow gap between them. “For what?”
“Tonight. This.” She freed her hand. Gestured to the crowd. Returned to place it against his chest. “Getting out of the house makes me feel alive. Maybe even like someone new. It’s all because of you.”
“Don’t give me any credit. I didn’t do anything.”
She put the flower corsage under his nose. “You made my night on the town post well, you know. I’m enjoying myself. With you.”
Did his heart skip a beat? He knew he almost missed a step. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too, although you would have been fine going stag.”
“Yes, but you made it better.” He lost himself in her vanilla and jasmine scent. “I want to be your friend, Scarlett. I’d like us to become closer.”
She nodded, taking his words at face value. “I’d like that too.”
“I don’t want to crowd you.” He tightened his grip, pulling her closer against his chest so that he could memorize the feel of her in his arms, relive this moment when the nights were dark and unbearable and sleep didn’t exist. She pressed her cheek into his shirt.
Finally she lifted her head again and said, “I don’t need space. I need friends. I thought I had them in San Diego. It’s one reason I stayed, fought to keep my life as it was as long as I did. But things change. People treat you differently. Look at you with sympathy in their eyes. Their husbands are still deployed. Yours isn’t, and it reminds them of their own vulnerability, that they might be next to have the uniforms at the door. You quickly get the sense that while they like you, it’s become awkward whenever you’re around.”
“I’m sorry,” Brad said, meaning it. His fingertips gently kneaded her lower back, as if the small massage could take away her bad memories. “I wish you’d told me when we talked.”
“I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want my family to know. I told them I’d be fine, and I wasn’t. They were right. I probably should have come home when they insisted.”
“Then the house wouldn’t have been ready.”
“True. Thanks to you I didn’t have to move home.” A chill shook her.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He wrapped his arms tighter.
“I know. I love my mom but I didn’t want to live with her.”
“Then things worked out for the best.”
“Perhaps they’re starting to.” Someone bumped her from behind and she tripped forward. Brad caught her. “Hey, I’ve got you.”
“Thanks. You’re a good guy, Brad Silverman.” She touched his cheek again, in a move that shattered all control. “I hope you know how special you are.”
“I’m far from it,” he ground out as he hardened again. He ground her to him, letting her see the effect she’d had on him. Her eyes widened. Darkened. “Don’t set me on a pedestal,” he warned. “I’ve done things that would curl your toes.”
“You’re ex-military. Of course you have.”
“I’ve not always been an honorable man.”
“But you are now, and that’s what matters.”
Hell no, he wasn’t honorable. Brad wanted to kiss her until her strawberry-colored lips were swollen. As close as she was, her breasts were against his chest, and he wanted to free them from the dress, take them into his mouth and suck on each pretty pebble until it turned into a hard little nub. He wanted to taste her everywhere, to make her cry out in pleasure. Part of him throbbed.
“It fades, you know,” she said out of the blue.
“What?” He blinked. Focused.
“The past. The pain.”
Oh. She hadn’t been meaning that part of him that was stiff as a board. He mentally gave himself a cold shower as the band began to wrap up the song.
“After it first happened, I didn’t even want to get out of bed, which is ridiculous because he wasn’t even home for eight months out of the year. But I had to be strong for Colleen. And we had a routine. So I settled back into it, except that there weren’t any more Skype sessions. The phone stopped ringing, and only bills were in the mail. It becomes a new normal and you go on.”
“I don’t know if you ever truly fill the hole.” It was a rare admission, one that slipped out only because he’d lost himself in her arms. He tried to shove away the sudden guilt He was here, holding Scarlett and wanting to kiss her, while it should have been Todd.
“You have to figure out how to let go.” Scarlett seemed to sense Brad’s feelings. But she couldn’t know the depths of his despair. “But I will admit it takes a long time. Part of me reached that when I spread his ashes. Yet I’m in a new dress because I couldn’t bear to wear one I’d worn with him.”
The slow song ended and she stepped out of his arms as the band picked up the tempo. “Another?” he questioned. For she made him want to tell her his guilt, tell her his transgressions. And he could never do that.
She patted a wayward strand of hair that had escaped the updo when she’d had her head on his chest. “If you don’t mind, I’m actually getting tired. I’m usually in bed shortly after Colleen and I put her to bed at eight thirty.”
“Then we can go. I’m up early myself. It is getting late.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Absolutely not.” He lied, for he wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. But he’d promised her fun and refused to end on a down note. “So Colleen gets up early?”
“At the crack of dawn. Always has. I adjusted my sleep schedule around hers.”
He took his phone out. Glanced at the time. “Well, it’s eleven.”
“Close enough to midnight that this Cinderella should go home. And you have to work tomorrow.”
“I’ll be fine. I once went forty-eight hours without any shut-eye.”
She appeared horrified. “That’s terrible.”
“One of the reasons I left the SEALs. Now I usually get about six hours.”
They made their way up to the third floor, where Brad retrieved his tuxedo jacket from the seat back. A few of their earlier tablemates were still there, so they said their good-byes and headed down toward the coat check, where Brad stood in line with a few others. He hated to see the night end, but he could see the tiredness hidden behind her pretty eyes.
“I really had fun tonight,” she told him as the valet brought his Honda around. “Thanks.”
“You’ve already said that.”
“I want you to know I really meant it. It bears repeating.”
“Okay. Well, you’re welcome. I had fun too. We’ll have to do something like this again.”
He wanted to make her happy. Always had, and always would, the instructions from Todd truly irrelevant. Pleasing her was as essential as breathing. Much more than any misplaced guilt.
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.”
She placed a hand on his arm before stepping into the SUV. Turned to him. “I was serious about what I said earlier. I want us to be friends. You were Todd’s best friend, and while we hung out, I realized the other day I don’t really know you like I’d like. It seems like you deliberately held yourself back.”
He had. It had been a defense mechanism to protect a heart lost to her—a love he couldn’t reveal as she’d loved someone else. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t want to ever seem inappropriate.”
“How would talking to me have been inappropriate?”
“Well, some guys don’t like it,” he hedged.
“Todd was never the jealous type. And now it doesn’t matter. We’re going to be sharing a house, well, sort of, so I should know you better. For instance, what’s your favorite song?”
“What does that have to do with anything? It’s cold. Get inside.” The wind blew and he ushered her into the vehicle and closed the door. Stupid St. Louis weather. Tomorrow’s parade weather was going to be cold and miserable, as were any outdoor calls he’d have to go on. Yet he knew Mother Nature’s nastiness wouldn’t stop
the parade goers any more than it would stop him from doing his job. He tipped the valet and climbed in.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said as he put the car in drive.
“I’m not sure how my favorite song is relevant.”
“Do you realize I know nothing about you? I want to get to know you. Peel back a few of your layers. Get to know the guy behind the tool belt.”
“Uh, that sounds rather personal.”
She laughed. “That came out all wrong. But who cares? I’ve had wine, I’ve danced and I’m free, at least for a few more minutes until I go back to mom time. So play along.”
“I’m not that interesting.”
“That’s not playing along,” Scarlett scolded. “Let’s do one of those first-thing-that-comes-into-your-head things. I’ll answer too. Deal?”
“Will this make you happy?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Fine.”
“Good.” She leaned against her seat with a satisfied thump. “We’ll start with an easier one then. Like, how do you take your coffee?”
“With sugar. I add it every time I use the coffeemaker.”
“Now that you mention it, I have noticed that.” His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He could feel Scarlett staring at his profile. “I add sugar too but prefer hot chocolate. Okay, next. Favorite book?”
Living off Grand, they were already halfway home. “I like biographies.” He risked glancing at her. Saw her wrinkle her nose, for they were driving under the streetlight. “Clearly you don’t like that answer.”
“No, it’s rare I read about people’s lives. Find it boring. Although I did read that Cary Elwes book about making the movie The Princess Bride. What’s your favorite title?”
“David McCullough’s John Adams. I read it after it became that HBO miniseries.”
The nose wrinkled again, like an adorable rabbit. Instead of being irritated, he had the urge to rub it smooth. “Nope. Never heard of it. So next question. Thing that drives you the most crazy?”
Aside from his desire for her? “Conformity,” he said.
“Which is really ironic considering you are in a job that requires all those rules and regulations.”
Fan The Flames (Man Of The Month Book 3) Page 7
