Brent frowned, clearly perplexed. He contemplated her words. "So you're not mad because I haven't called you?"
"Didn't expect you to," she replied, not gazing at him. She couldn't look him in the eye without admitting her disappointment. She watched the couple kiss over some sentimental gift they'd received, and her disillusionment seemed to double.
"You didn't think we'd go out again?" he questioned.
She faced him, lowering her voice. "As far as I'm concerned, you're just a damn good lay, Dr. Moulton. Saturday night was all I expected. Nothing more."
Yes, she was lying to the man, but she could not be honest with him or he would break the world sprinting record to get as far from her as possible. Besides, she had no clear idea what she wanted from Brent. She only knew that Saturday night had been special. So special that if she wasn’t careful, her heart could get involved. And that was a frightening thought, especially considering he hadn’t even thought of telling her he’d slept with her sister. Wouldn’t he be in for a shock when he learned the truth?
A frown marred his forehead, and she couldn't help but smile at the sight. The intense look on his handsome face appeared confused as he watched the couple break a ribbon. The crowd cheered.
"How many is that?" someone called out.
"Two," the young bride said. "And no, there will be no babies until John finishes his residency."
Brent glanced over at her. He was slumped in the chair, his arms crossed, his feet spread wide apart. "So you're just in this for the sex?"
She laughed. That was how it originally started. Why did it feel like it wasn’t that simple anymore? What had started as simple sex to erase him from her memory now seemed enchanting. Yet to admit that to Brent would mean certain relationship death.
"Why do you find that so shocking?” She tossed up her hands. “You don't want a woman who is interested in a lasting relationship, but you're upset with someone who just wants to have sex with you?" She shook her head. "What do you want Brent?"
"You sound just like my sister," he said, staring at her, his expression revealing he wasn't quite sure he believed her.
"Oh buck up, sport. We used each other to get what we wanted.” She shrugged. “I've just never paid before to get laid."
She laughed at the expression of horror that crossed his face.
"It's all right; you did it for charity."
"It sounds so crass when you say it that way," he said, looking at her, perplexed. "What if I wanted more?"
"No. You've sworn off love and marriage. So what more could you possibly want?" she asked. "Besides sex."
He frowned. "I don't know. Saturday night was fun."
"Yes, it was a great date.”
"I'm not offering forever after."
She shot him a look of disbelief. "Who said I was asking for it?"
"Would you see me again?" he asked.
She gave him a long glance that hopefully spoke volumes. He wanted more than sex, but not a relationship. How did you tell a guy to buy a vowel, when he didn't know what letter he was looking for? "You've got my number."
"Yeah, I do."
She glanced at her watch, realizing it would be best to leave the good doctor craving more of her company. She stood. "I've got to run."
He gazed at her, his expression one of confusion. "I'll give you a call."
She smiled, knowing she’d rattled him. "You do that."
#
Two days later, Brent knocked on his sister's door. For over a week he'd felt off-balance, as if something in his universe was out of kilter. Unfortunately, he knew the exact moment the feeling started.
That Sunday morning he’d escaped from Jennifer.
Leslie opened the door, surprise lighting her face.
"Hey, come on in. Heather is in school and I could use a break from studying," she said, holding open the door. "Day off from the hospital?"
"Yeah. I kind of hoped you would be alone," he acknowledged.
"Come in the kitchen and I'll fix us some ice tea." She gave him a second look, a frown creasing her forehead. "What's up?"
Each step through the house into the cozy kitchen brought him closer to the moment of truth. He dreaded telling her his news and doubted he could fool her into believing his reasons.
"Remember I told you about that job I applied for in Denver?"
"Yeah," she said, putting ice in two tall glasses.
"They called me yesterday. It's mine if I want it," he confessed.
Why was he telling her as if he had not already made up his mind? He'd all but signed the offer.
"I thought you wanted to stay here," she replied, pouring tea over the ice.
"Well…I did," he acknowledged.
She frowned and handed him a glass. "So what's changed?"
He shrugged. "Not much. I enjoy the mountains. I could ski all winter. The summers would be cooler. And this is a good opportunity for me."
"That's never mattered before, so what's changed?"
"I could use a change of scenery. And like I said, this is a great opportunity for me."
“I thought the position here in Tyler was a good one?”
“It is.”
She handed him his tea and sat down at the kitchen table across from him. “Is the money any better?"
"A little," he reluctantly admitted.
"Is the job more prestigious?"
"Yeah. It’s a research hospital."
"You don't seem overly excited. I thought you liked County General and were determined to get this new wing built." She sipped from her glass, and he could tell she was not buying his reasons for leaving.
He nodded. "I am. We need it badly. But…I don't know."
There was a lengthy silence, and he could hear his sister’s mind churning.
"I heard about the bachelor auction. Sounds like it went great. And I heard that Jennifer bought your date."
"Yes, we went out Saturday night a week ago."
“And…?” she asked.
For a moment he didn't say anything. His sister was no fool, and no matter what he said, she'd read between the lines and figure out just what had happened. He had run scared, and then yesterday the telephone call from Denver seemed the perfect solution. Especially after speaking to Jennifer at the wedding shower and realizing he wanted nothing more than to see her again.
Today the job in Denver didn't seem quite so appealing, yet he'd already contacted a real estate agent to put his house on the market.
"We had a good time," he said, hoping she would just leave the subject alone.
For a moment she said nothing. "Have you gone out with her or called her since that night?"
He shook his head. "Not yet."
"I guess that's over. And you don't have to worry about telling her you slept with her sister." She watched him closely. "When did you get the call about Denver?"
"Yesterday."
"So after having a great date, you're no longer interested in Jennifer, and then you received the call from Denver."
“Yes,” he said reluctantly, knowing his sister would soon understand his reasons.
"You wouldn't be taking this job to get away from this girl would you?" she inquired, her hazel eyes searching his.
"Why would I move seven hundred miles to get away from a woman? I've never had a problem dumping a woman before."
"No. But you've also never seemed so interested in a woman before."
“Why do you think that?”
“Because you’ve never talked to me about your girlfriends before. Suddenly we speak of Jennifer every time we talk.”
Brent frowned. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to run, but something was holding him back.
"It's your decision, Brent. You know Heather and I would miss you terribly. I hope you’re not running because of Jennifer. Because eventually you're bound to find someone else who interests you. Then what will you do? Run again? Do you just keep running every time a woman gets too close?"
"This is not the f
irst time I've had a woman getting too close."
"No, but I think it’s the first time you've felt something for a woman interested in you. Suddenly your decision to avoid relationships doesn't seem so easy."
It was true. Jennifer unknowingly threatened his commitment to remain single. "I can't take the chance."
His sister smiled. "Then maybe you should move to Colorado. Move up there and you won't have to deal with Mother's husband or Father's girlfriends or Jennifer Riley and your desire to be with her."
Brent frowned. Leslie made it sound like he ran from his problems instead of facing them. But that wasn't true. He couldn't risk becoming permanently entangled with a woman when six months to a year down the road he could wake up and find her gone or he’d pulled one of his father's stunts and was tempted to have an affair.
"I'm not running to Colorado."
"You're not?" she said in surprise.
"No."
"Have you told Jennifer you were thinking of leaving town?"
"No."
"Don't you think you should?"
"Why?" This was a conversation he knew he should have, but he dreaded.
"To prove to yourself that you're not running. After all, if you're not taking this job to end this relationship, her opinion won't matter."
He frowned. Why did she always do this to him? She always managed to turn the tables and challenge him somehow.
"I've wanted to drop in on her anyway. When I leave I'll go by the hardware store and then go see Jennifer at the hospital."
Leslie laughed. "The hardware store?"
"Yeah, I promised to fix her plumbing. Before I leave town I want to keep my promise."
She shook her head. "Please don't explain. I don't want to know anything about her plumbing."
He grinned. Of course Leslie was right. Jennifer's opinion of his move to Denver didn't matter. Did it?
Chapter Thirteen
Brent walked through the hospital corridor carrying the sack from Home Depot in his hands. He'd stopped on the way and purchased a new float and chain for Jennifer’s toilet, his present to her before leaving town.
Like the crumpled sack in his hands, his insides felt twisted at the thought of telling her he had taken the job in Denver. Once he explained what a great opportunity awaited him there, Jennifer would be happy for him, especially considering their conversation at the wedding shower. After all, she had all but said their experience that night was nothing more than good sex between two willing parties.
Since their date, he’d maintained his distance, but it’d been difficult to stay away from her. Tonight he intended to prove to himself he could walk away unaffected by leaving her. And still this anxiousness refused to leave him when he thought about telling her of his decision.
Why should her opinion matter?
If he let her opinion matter then that meant he cared for her more than he should, which only made him more determined to take this job in Denver. He needed distance, and that could only mean mileage between them.
What a vicious circle he had placed himself in. How had he gotten involved so quickly?
He enjoyed her company more than any woman he remembered. And that meant the time had long since passed to end whatever it was they had.
Yet that thought depressed him. He didn’t want to end it.
His footsteps echoed in the empty halls of the administration wing as he walked toward her office. Light filtered around her closed door as he entered the darkened reception area. Everyone had gone home for the night, leaving the area deserted.
He rapped on her door.
"Come in," she called.
As he opened the door, she glanced at him from the computer monitor that sat on the credenza of her desk, her brows rising in surprise at the sight of him.
"Hi. Isn’t it a little late for you to be working?" he asked, noticing the way her silk blouse clung to her breasts.
“I get a lot done this time of day,” she said, eyeing him warily as he stepped in and shut the door firmly behind him. "I thought you were off today?"
Soft jazz filtered through the room from a CD player in the corner and the smell of roses lingered in the air.
"I am." He grinned and pulled a bottle of bubbles from his sack. He uncapped the bottle, removed the wand and waved it through the air, filling her office with tiny soap bubbles.
She laughed, her face brightening spontaneously.
“A reminder of our date together and how much fun we had,” he said, noticing how her blue eyes changed. They shone brightly, almost twinkling with laughter. Her smile widened, and she visibly relaxed.
She shook her head and grinned at him.
He held up the small bottle. “I know it’s not much compared to the club, but I thought maybe we could pour the bottle over us and dance around your office.”
“You’re missing the pulsating music and the strobe lights. The effect is just not the same.” She gazed at the bag from Home Depot. “Should I ask what’s in the sack?”
He held out the bag from the hardware store. "I bought the parts to repair your toilet."
Her mouth turned up in a welcoming smile, and his heart warmed at her reception. He wondered if he could get away with jumping over her desk to reach her, for suddenly he longed to hold her.
“Ohh…the things you buy a woman. Toilet trappings.”
Brent grinned. “You must admit I’m original.”
“In more ways than you know,” she admitted.
This is what he enjoyed about being with her. The banter, the teasing, the way she never let him get away with anything. He’d miss her smile, the way she laughed, and their interaction.
"I could always hire a plumber."
He shook his head and laughed at her as he walked around her desk, unable to resist the urge to be near her any longer. "And have someone else in your tank? No way."
And he knew he meant it. He didn't want to share Jennifer with another man, though the thought was totally unrealistic when he knew he would soon be gone. At least he wouldn’t be around to see her with someone new.
She watched him approach, her tongue wetting her lips. His pulse accelerated at the sight of her warm, moist mouth. He wanted to kiss her. Hell, he wanted to hold her. Even better, the sight of her made him want to make love to her. But that would be crazy and delightful.
"So when do you plan to install these new parts?" she asked.
He sat on the edge of her desk and leaned back, trying to focus on his reason for being here and not on how much he wanted to make love to her.
"If you're not too busy, I thought that maybe we could go to your place tonight. I brought my tools and in about five minutes I could have you all fixed up."
Jennifer gazed at his lean body relaxing against her desk, close yet out of reach, and couldn't resist the opening he'd given her. All day long she had mentally replayed their conversation from the wedding shower, confused about whether she’d handled her frustration with Brent the right way. Then tonight he'd shown up out of the blue, blowing bubbles at her.
How could she stay annoyed with a man who came into her office blowing bubbles and offering to fix her plumbing? Somehow the silly gesture endeared him to her heart and melted any lingering resentment. Maybe she was expecting too much too soon.
This sounded like a woman pursuing a permanent relationship, which was exactly what he was running from. What did she want from Brent?
Right now, some really good, mind-blowing sex.
"Five minutes wouldn't be near enough time with your tool," she said, an innocent smile on her face, hiding the turbulent emotions churning within her.
He grinned and tilted his head to gaze at her. "Are you coming on to me?"
Needing to be near him, she stood and took the small step that brought her into his arms, her body connecting to his. She slowly began to unbutton his shirt.
When he’d walked through the door carrying that silly sack from the hardware store and begun blowing bubbles in h
er office, her libido had slammed into her bloodstream with enough punch for a knock out.
"Fast and furious. The thought of you working in my tank has sent my thoughts spiraling…long and hard."
She glanced down suggestively. She wanted Brent, and she wanted him right there, right then. Yes, he had issues, but what man didn't?
He pulled her in between his legs and up against his torso, pressing his erection into her midsection. "I never knew plumbing could be so stimulating."
He kissed her throat, and she arched her neck, giving him easier access as she unbuttoned the last button on his shirt and pulled the cloth from the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers skimmed the warm flesh of his chest.
"Until the other night, I never knew my tank needed so much attention."
"There's nothing like a good flapper," he whispered as he kissed along her neck until he reached her ear. "Your tank will be full. No need to jiggle anything…unless you want to."
"God, I love a man with a good tool and the ability to fill my tank," she said, his hands touching her breasts.
"Oh, honey, your tank will be totally satisfied in every way."
"Show me," she whispered.
He nibbled her shoulder. "Here? Now?"
She smiled at his surprise. "There’s no time like the present."
His mouth felt warm against her neck. "My tool is at your disposal."
She leaned back until she found his mouth and moved her lips over his, savoring and tasting him while her hands touched his face, slid down his neck, sliced through his hair. She needed to feel him, touch him everywhere.
Here in her office, all she could think about was how much she needed him now, inside her, filling her until she felt ready to burst. All of her life she had played it safe except where Brent was concerned. From the time they were teenagers, only he had the ability to make her forget her scruples and act in ways that she had otherwise never considered. And she liked the way he challenged her.
With Brent the teasing and bantering came natural. With Brent she felt playful and naughty and sensual. With Brent she acted like a woman in love.
She released his lips, her body tensing at the thought. He opened his eyes. "Is something wrong?"
My Sister's Boyfriend (The Trouble With Twins 1) Page 15
