Her lips parted and the faintest intake of breath echoed in his super sensitive ears.
The sound echoed in his head, rumbled down his spine and made a bee-line straight to his cock.
Okay, so he was interested. But he knew it wasn’t the lust that drew him. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on behind her closed expression, and how she managed it in the first place. No woman had ever shut him out before.
Except his new sister-in-law, that is. But Brent had always figured that had something to do with the fact that she’d been sucking face with his brother. She and Cody had exchanged blood and so she shared his strength. Translation? She wasn’t susceptible to another vampire’s influence.
But this woman didn’t draw her strength from another bloodsucker. It was all her own and damned if that fact didn’t turn him on in a major way.
She hadn’t had sex in a really long time.
It wasn’t a truth he read in her gaze. Rather one that he gauged in her reaction. The stiffening of her body, the rapid in and out of her breaths, the frantic pulse beating at the base of her neck.
He stiffened. “Why are you following me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was taking a drive and I saw your car on the side of the road. I thought you might have broken down.”
“I saw you back at the Dairy Freeze.”
“I like to drive after I eat. It helps the digestion.” She killed the eye contact and cast a glance at his car. “So what’s up?” She rounded the front end and started to lift the hood. “Did you overheat?”
He rested a hand atop the metal and pushed it back down with a loud whackkkk! “You’re good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t even blink.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re feeding me a load of bullshit and most people blink when they do that. But you haven’t batted an eye.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m not lying.”
“Or maybe,” he rounded the car and stepped up to her, “you’re just really, really good at it.”
Abby had the sudden urge to step back. He was too close and he smelled too good and she was too freaked out by both. Particularly since she didn’t get freaked out. Ever. She kept her cool. Her focus. Her objective. Always. Until now.
Until him.
“What are you really doing out here?” His deep voice slid into her ears and made her heart beat that much faster.
Her hands trembled and she stiffened, determined to get a grip and keep her mind on her mission. “I’m looking for a man.”
He regarded her for a few frantic heartbeats before a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That much I can help you with.” His meaning hit and a wave of heat swept through her.
“That’s not what I meant.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I’m looking for a specific man.”
“For a specific purpose?” He arched an eyebrow and her heart paused. He was playing with her. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in the deep timbre of his voice. “I’m a jack of all trades. Maybe I can help you out.” Yeah, baby.
She ignored the frantic cry of her hormones and tried to remember the details of the story she’d worked out on the drive from San Antonio to Skull Creek. “I’m looking for my ex-boyfriend. We broke up last month and he moved back here. I think.” She didn’t sound half as convincing, but then that was the point. To play the sad, confused, pathetic ex-girlfriend and get the locals to talk to her. “One of his relatives passed on and left him quite a bit of money but the estate lawyer can’t seem to locate him.”
Something sparked in his gaze. “So you’re not from here?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got a place in Chicago, but I don’t see it much. My job keeps me busy.”
Sales. That’s what she was going to say when he asked what she did for a living. She’d been through enough interrogations to know that that was the next logical question.
“So what is it you’re after? A piece of the money, or do you still have a thing for him?”
“Sales.”
“Excuse me?”
Yeah, excuse me? Let him ask the question before you answer, dumbass. What are you thinking?
But she wasn’t thinking. Standing there, with the moonlight spilling down around them and his scent filling her nostrils, the only thing she could do was feel. The sweat trickling between her shoulder blades. The awareness rippling up and down her spine. The hollowness between her legs.
“That’s what I do for a living,” she blurted. “In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t. So are you going to answer the question? Money? Revenge? Which is it?”
“Closure. Our break-up was really abrupt. He moved out with no warning and the only thing I got was a text message saying goodbye. I figured if I came here to tell him about the inheritance, it would give us a chance to talk about things.” When he gave her a doubtful look, she added, “You wouldn’t understand. It’s a girl thing.” Or so she’d heard. She’d never been much of a “girl”. Not in the way she acted—no strutting her stuff or wowing men or texting her BFF about her latest conquest—and certainly not in the way she looked—no skimpy clothes or make-up or lacey panties. That truth had always been something she’d been proud of.
But staring up into his gaze, she found herself wishing she’d put on something—anything—besides baggy jeans and a hoodie.
“So what’s his name?”
“Who?”
“The ex-boyfriend?”
“Rayne.” She stared deep into his eyes, searching for some spark of recognition. “Rayne Montana. Do you know him?”
“Can’t say that I do. I’m just passing through myself. I’m visiting my brother and his wife. In fact,” he glanced at his watch, “I’m running late. I was supposed to meet them fifteen minutes ago.”
She tried to ignore the sudden disappointment that washed through her. “Sorry about the misunderstanding.” She started to dart past him, but he caught her arm before he could think better of it.
His fingertips seemed to tingle, sending shock waves through her. Her stomach hollowed out and her nipples pebbled.
“No bother.” His gaze pushed into hers. “So what does he look like?”
She glanced up from the point of contact. “Who?”
“The boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to correct him except that she’d always been a stickler for facts. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that she didn’t want him to think she was actually attached. As if he’d even be interested.
But that was the thing. Despite her hoodie and baggy jeans and regulation cotton underpants, he did look interested. His gaze gleamed with a dozen wicked thoughts and she couldn’t help herself.
“We’re not together anymore.”
“I sort of figured that’s what ex meant.”
“He’s a little over six feet,” she rushed on, eager to ignore the heat creeping into her cheeks. Blushing? She didn’t blush. She didn’t stammer. She didn’t act like a freakin’ idiot. “Short, dark hair. Very fit. Scar on his left bicep.”
“If I see anyone that fits the description, I’ll send them your way. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Abby. Abby Trent. Yours?”
“Brent Braddock.”
“Nice to meet you, Brent.”
“My pleasure.”
The last word conjured all sorts of images as Abby climbed into her car and headed back to the Skull Creek Inn, and straight into a cold shower.
Because the last thing Abby intended was to get side-tracked by a man. She had a job to do and she fully intended to stay on course.
No matter how much she suddenly wanted to take the nearest Exit to Sexville.
5
“I’D ALMOST GIVEN UP on you,” Cody said when Brent finally walked into Mary Sue’s Wedding Nirvana. Mary Sue’s was the one and only bri
dal shop and tuxedo rental in Skull Creek and the last place Brent wanted to be at the moment.
His pulse pounded and his muscles clenched. He was wired. Desperate. Hungry.
“You were supposed to be here a half hour ago.”
Cody stood to the left near a small sitting area. He worked at the buttons on his white tuxedo shirt. “All the other guys have gone and left.”
“Sorry to miss the party but I had something I had to deal with.” Brent sank down into one of the leather chairs and tried to ignore his brother’s curious gaze.
Cody arched an eyebrow. “Something or someone?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, it’s just that you might want to watch yourself around here. It’s a small town. A safe town. The last thing we need are rumors flying.” He finished the buttons and shrugged on the black jacket. He turned towards Brent. “What do you think?”
“I’m glad you’re the one getting married and not me.”
“It’s not so bad.” He flexed and the fabric pulled and tugged. “Granted it’s not nearly as comfortable as a T-shirt and jeans, but I’ve suffered through worse. Speaking of which, the offer still stands. We’d really love to have you in the wedding.”
“I’m not really a wedding kind of guy. Love and marriage and forever and ever…” He gave a shudder. “Not my thing.”
“You don’t have to marry anyone. You’ll just be standing up with me.”
“Maybe next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” Cody looked so certain that Brent almost believed him.
He might have if not for the all important fact that his brother was a friggin’ vampire. Translation? Temporary. Things might be picture perfect now, but it wouldn’t last. While Miranda herself seemed cool with it, there were others who wouldn’t be so accepting. Someone would eventually find out that there were bloodsuckers living in Skull Creek and then all hell would break loose. It always did.
Brent had learned that firsthand and it was a lesson he didn’t intend to forget. He’d barely gotten out of Jamison, Texas, without being staked, and all because he’d been stupid enough to fall in love. Or at least he’d thought it was love. It had been early on, right after he’d been turned. He’d been desperate for his life back. For a sense of normalcy. And then he’d met Lila. She’d been pretty and sweet and just like that he’d been able to see the two of them settling down and living happily ever after.
A stupid fantasy. That’s all it had been. He’d needed to feel like a man again, just a man, and she’d wanted someone to take care of her. The minute she’d seen the truth, she’d turned on him and run back to her family. Her father had told the entire town. They’d come for him then. Captured him. Tortured him.
They’d known he was a bloodsucker with the strength of ten men. But there’d been five times that many. They’d overpowered him, chained him up, beat him. They’d been ready to stake him, too, but he’d managed to work his hand free just in time. He’d made it out, but barely. He wasn’t risking his afterlife or his heart ever again.
Love—if there even was such a thing—sucked, no pun intended, and nothing good could come of it.
Not for Brent.
And certainly not for Cody.
His brother might be playing at normal now, but he wasn’t. He never would be and eventually the shit would hit the fan and he would have to leave.
“I’ve got Dillon compiling a list of all the Rose Braddocks in the United States,” Brent told him, determined to pull him onto a safer subject. One he could actually do something about. “Once he’s done, I’ll start checking them out.”
“Before the wedding?”
Cody looked so nervous for a split second that Brent couldn’t help himself. “I’ll be there next Saturday for the ceremony, I just can’t promise anything else.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“What difference does it make?” He shrugged. “So what’s with the blue? I thought most tuxedos were black?”
“Miranda likes blue. She says it brings out the blue in my eyes.”
Brent grinned. “You’re worse off than I thought, little bro.”
“Yeah,” Cody admitted, but there was none of the surprise or worry Brent would have expected at such an admission. His brother actually looked happy. “The house is almost done.” When Brent turned a questioning look on Cody, he added, “The one I’ve been building for the past six months? The one I’ve told you about a dozen times? My wedding gift to Miranda?” Brent shrugged and Cody added, “They just put the floors in yesterday. There are still a few minor things left to do like the phone jacks and the cable hookup, but for the most part it’s finished. I spent the day out there yesterday to make sure everything got done.”
“With workers in and out?”
“There’s a basement that locks from the inside. The workers only have access to the front door.” His gaze met Brent’s. “If you need a place to crash, I keep a key stashed near the front porch that unlocks the basement. You could camp out until the wedding.”
“The motel’s just fine.”
“I’d really like you to take a look and tell me what you think about the place.”
“Does it matter what I think?”
“No,” his brother said in all honesty, “but I’d still like you to see it. It’s out off old Farm Road 86, about six miles past the turn-off. We could head over after this and I could show you around.”
Brent shook his head. “I’m meeting Dillon. So do you have a guest list?” he asked, suddenly eager to ease the flash of disappointment in his brother’s gaze. Cody’s expression quickly shifted into surprise, and Brent added, “Just because I’m not your best man doesn’t mean I can’t throw you a bachelor party.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Just hand it over. A week from tonight. Mark your calendar.” He took the paper Cody pulled from his pocket and shoved it into his jeans. Pushing to his feet, he said, “I gotta go.”
“I was thinking you might want to stop off after you swing by Dillon’s and hang out with me and Miranda. I know she would love it. She wants to get to know you.”
“Dillon has a lot leads. It might take a while.”
Cody looked ready to argue, but then he shrugged. “Keep me posted.”
Brent nodded and walked out of the bridal shop.
Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a renovated service station with a neon blue sign that read Skull Creek Choppers gleaming in the front glass window. It was the last place he would expect to find a nest of vampires, but then that was the point. The place was ultra small town with its antique gas pumps and old-fashioned Goo Goo Clusters sign. Unassuming. Inconspicuous.
Safe.
For now, Brent reminded himself. It wouldn’t last. It never lasted.
He rang the buzzer on the high tech security pad sitting next to the door. A split-second later, a lock released and the door opened. He walked into the small room that housed the office portion of the motorcycle manufacture. A tall, muscular man sat in front of a state-of-the-art computer system. He didn’t glance up. He didn’t have to.
Dillon Cash was a computer guru and the third member of the infamous trio that made up Skull Creek Choppers. He worked with Jake McCall and Garrett Sawyer, both vampires and geniuses when it came to chopper design and construction. Brent had never ridden one of their bikes because he was more of a muscle car kind of guy, but he’d admired their designs more than once.
“So what’s up?” he asked Dillon. “Did you find anything specific?”
“Not yet, but I’ve posted several comments on the different vampire blogs out there detailing Rose and her physical description. It’s a long shot, but it worked once before when we were looking for Garrett’s maker.” He handed over a list of different blog sites. “I’ll be keeping an eye on the comments, but you might want to check things out to. That way if anyone posts anything that sounds familiar to you, you can let me know. In the meantime, I di
d a search for every Rose Braddock in the continental United States.”
“And?”
“There are over three hundred of them. I ruled some out based on background, birth certificates, etc., which leaves one hundred and thirty-six possibilities. That is, if she’s even using her same name.” Dillon handed over a print-out. “I’m doing more detailed searches to narrow it down, but it’s going to take time. Speaking of which,” he glanced at his watch, “I’ve got to run. I printed out the various blogs I commented on if you want to monitor them yourself. You might recognize something familiar. Meanwhile, we bide our time and keep looking.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“It’s date night. If I’m late, she’ll kill me.” He grinned. “Again.”
“Damn straight I will.” The comment came from the attractive blonde who appeared in the doorway. Brent caught her gaze, but he couldn’t read anything behind the twinkle in her eyes.
She came up to Dillon and slid an arm around him. “We need to hurry. The movie starts in five minutes.” Her gaze met Brent’s. “How’s the search going?”
“It’s going.”
“Keep the faith. If she’s out there, Dillon will find her.” She smiled up at Dillon. “He found Garrett’s maker.”
“That’s what I’ve been told. Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it,” Dillon said.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” the female vampire asked point-blank.
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“I don’t do girlfriends.”
“Ahh,” a knowing gleam lit her eyes, “a boyfriend then.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend either.”
She shrugged. “Give it some time. You’ll meet Mr. Right soon.”
“I’m not gay.”
“A player?”
“Something like that.”
“Is it?” She leveled an intense stare at him. “Something like that? Because if not and you’re a halfway decent guy who’s just a little shy, I’ve got a really great girl I’d like you to meet.”
“Meg,” Dillon warned, “you promised you wouldn’t play Cupid.”
The Braddock Boys: Brent Page 3
