Flirting With Disaster Page 8

  He asked, “Do you know how much that book is worth?”

  “Priceless?”

  “No, you can definitely put a price on it.”

  “And that has you randy?”

  “Fuck. Yes.”

  She laughed. “And I thought you were a book snob. Let this be a lesson in trying to seduce me. I will win, because next time I'll grab Moby Dick.”

  He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and her eyes closed. She moaned softly. He took that as consent, dragged her closer until she knelt in front of him on the desktop, and then deepened the kiss.

  Someone outside the shop leaned on their horn. For a week, he’d let her hide from what was happening with them. For a week he hadn't touched her, let her scent wash over him. They'd argued, they'd shared jokes, they confessed more of their dark secrets, but in email or text. They couldn't seem to help it now. Whoever was leaning on the horn could wait.

  She pulled back, her lids low. “The horn.”

  “Fuck them.”

  She let out a moan. “You turn into a Neanderthal when you're horny.”

  “I'm taking that as a compliment.”

  The person outside started to honk their horn in a melody. Dane rested his forehead on Brooke's.

  She sighed. “You're going to have to seduce me later.”

  He kissed her again and then helped her off the desk. “You're going to let me.”

  The honking was erratic. “The Shelby did it,” she confessed.

  He'd sent her the picture of that one the day before.

  Honk.

  Dane glared out the office window. An African American man stood on the bed of his tow truck, his door wide open. The man glared toward the office. Brooke's gaze followed Dane's.

  “Son of a bitch,” she muttered.

  She was already running out of the office when he thought to ask about the man. Dane followed her footsteps.

  She skidded to a stop and let out an excited squeal. “You brought the Caddy?”

  Dane frowned. The four cars were covered with individual tarps, and yet, she knew that one by shape. The newcomer's gaze narrowed on him. He had dark brown skin, a long tapered nose and light brown eyes. Up close, he resembled Brooke.

  Right.

  Her brother had interrupted his seduction and had likely guessed what had taken them so long. The shitty what-were-you-doing-to-my-sister stare wouldn’t disappear anytime soon.

  “Dane,” he said by way of introduction and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  “The Falcon?” Brooke climbed onto the back of the tow truck's flatbed, lifting up the tarps.

  The man folded his arms on top of the car's door. The thickness of his neck and arms told Dane he probably played sports in his youth and kept up some kind of regimen to stay in shape. He worked at their father's stock brokerage firm. He didn't look like a financial genius, but Brooke didn't look like a mechanic either.

  “Pierce Hall, Brooke's older brother,” his voice was deep, and there was a touch of menace in his tone.

  Dane swallowed an aggressive reply. The man was just looking out for his sister. He could respect that. To a point.

  “Pierce Christian Hall, leave him alone. You brought me the Cougar!” She let out a whoop.

  Pierce sighed, annoyance crossing his face for a moment before flitting away. “Of course I brought you the Cougar.” He shook his head and smiled. “Nice to meet another one of my sister's friends, Dane.” With a word from his sister, the man had gone from menacing to charming in one second flat.

  Dane snorted. Siblings. He knew that headache. “Let me get out of your hair so you don't have to pretend to like me.”

  Pierce grinned. “I like him, Brooke. Marry him.”

  “You. Brought. The. Mustang!”

  “Of course I did,” her brother answered, his smile widening.

  Dane nodded his head. Her brother had likely mentioned marriage without worry because she hadn't seen the Mustang yet. Damn. The man was good. Dane pulled out the list, heading for Brooke.

  He held up the paper. “The bachelor list.”

  Her eyes were bright. “Oh, you were serious.” She snatched it out of his hands, read it fast and then stuffed it into her coverall pockets.

  He nodded and kept walking. “Text you later.”

  She made a tsk of disapproval. “Pierce, you bring those books like I asked?”

  Dane turned abruptly, his heartbeat kicking up.

  Brooke was grinning at him and it spelled trouble. “What do Halls do?”

  Her brother yelled back, “We win.”

  She raised her brow. “Text me if you want,” she said to Dane. “I have five first editions that would make you drool.”

  “Five?” he asked and muttered a string of curses under his breath because the woman knew how to play dirty.

  “Cinco.”

  Damn. He couldn't help but be aroused…and feel something for her that had absolutely nothing to do with sex. That emotion squeezed his heart. “Text you later, Brooke.”

  *****

  Brooke pushed a bowl of chicken and dumplings in front of her brother. He sat at her small kitchen table, looking relaxed and himself sans the mechanic wear. The black dress shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to his forearms. He hadn't bothered with a tie. He wore khakis which would have been casual on anyone else, but they were creased within an inch of their life.

  He stuck out in her cheery home amongst all the well-worn secondhand furniture. Her place was nothing like the houses they had grown up in. Their mother would have had a heart attack if she saw the place, but Brooke loved every groove and frayed edge. She sat next to her brother with a bowl of her own, but let her fingers run over a scratch mark as a reminder of the woman she was now.

  “How many days did you take off?” she asked him.

  He tucked the paper napkin into his collar with a smirk. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

  He took a bite of the food and nodded. “Two weeks. We should be able to get through all the cars. Put me on engines or transmissions. Doesn't matter. We can create an assembly line while I'm here.”

  She hadn't seen her brother in too long of a time. She wanted more than two weeks with him, so she said slowly, “If you think two weeks is long enough.”

  Pierce's gaze narrowed. He had kind eyes. Always did but that didn't mean anything went past his notice. They were both frank so she braced herself for the next question, because there would be one.

  He put down his fork. “Do you want me to stay for a month?”

  Exactly what she hoped he'd say. She bit back the triumphant smile. “Dad won't miss you.” He worked in the marketing division of Hall Stock Brokerage.

  He made a face. “Fine. I take a month, you come home for dinner.”

  “And that's why I asked for a month instead of two weeks. Either way, you were going to use dinner as leverage.”

  He whistled. “Damn. You got me.”

  She forced the smile, because “dinner” meant their mother. “I'm not mad at her. So don't start.”

  He spread his hands in surrender. “I wasn't going to say anything.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “I was only going to point out she misses you.”

  The argument felt rehearsed. They’d had it so many times. “She misses the old me. The one who took all her advice on men and fluttered about.”

  “Of course she does. You talked to her back then.” He raised a brow, daring her to disagree.

  She couldn't. The night she decided to end the charade of her life being perfect, she'd gone to her mother. Her mother had nothing but excuses. Maybe Lance had to work late. Maybe his phone had died. Give him another chance.

  When Brooke had confessed that she'd found evidence of cheating, the next round of excuses came out. Men were men. They wandered.

  When Brooke had pointed out if she had cheated on Lance, every bit of advice to him would be to leave her. That she couldn't be trusted. Maybe they wouldn't even imply, th
ey would outright say she was a whore, a slut, a woman who couldn't keep her legs closed. Men were men and they got to wander. Brooke couldn't talk, much less relate, to a woman like that.

  “She looks at me like I'm a disappointment. A dysfunctional relationship goes both ways, Pierce.”

  He sighed, sitting back. “What's going on with Dane?”

  She chuckled at the quick change of subject. “Are your big brother genetics getting a workout?”

  “I know what took you so long to come outside. I couldn't see clearly into the office but I saw enough.”

  Her face heated. “Just think if you pulled up five minutes later.”

  “Brooke,” he barked.

  She reached over and pinched his chin. “Your cheeks are all red.”

  He pulled off the napkin and threw it on the table. “I'm serious. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

  She couldn't decipher how Dane looked at her. “How?”

  He frowned. “You can't see it?”

  She shrugged but her stomach had gone light with nerves. “We're attracted to each other.”

  Pierce scoffed. “Okay.”

  “What?” she pushed.

  Pierce frowned at her again and finally said, “Lance did a number on you. Since your break up with him you've never looked at a man like you looked at Dane.”

  Her heart thumped. “What do you mean?”

  Her brother tilted his head. “You don't look like you want to gut him.”

  She wanted to cross her arms or argue, so she kept her voice leveled. “So I've hated all men?”

  “Nope. Just the ones who tried to date you.”

  Oh, that did it. She slammed down her fork. “What?”

  “I'm just saying, tried to date. The ones you've dated have been nice, agreeable. None of them have stood up to the Hall glare. He laughed at me and kept moving. I wasn't lying when I said I liked him. He hasn't let you take his balls, bronze them, and put them on a mantle somewhere.”

  Un-freaking-believable. “So he didn't tuck his tail between his legs when you growled at him and that's some sign I should fall in love with him and marry him? Yes, I heard you. I ignored you.”

  “I'm saying, I've met every man you've dated. You bring them around me because some part of you still wants approval.” He put up his hand to stop any argument. “You growl at them and they whimper back.”

  Her brother had a point. She'd growled quite a bit at Dane over the last year, and he never backed down. Became exasperated, yeah. Gave up, not really. Whenever she won a round, he came back stronger. She didn't always agree with his opinion, or his worldview, but she respected him.

  “Eat your damn dinner and shut up,” she snapped.

  He picked up his napkin again and stuffed it back into his shirt's collar. “Only because you know I'm right.”

  She feared he was. But how did Dane look at her? She didn't know, and now she wanted to. Needed to.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Brooke had donned a sundress, because she was in the midst of a war and decided that would be her battle gear for the day. The hem fluttered as she walked down the street to Nichols' New and Used Books.

  Her dress featured a sweetheart neckline with a tie at her neck that with one pull could easily make the whole thing fall off. She hadn't bothered with makeup because it would only get in their way.

  She'd put on her battle gear because she'd been wrong to assume Dane had played all his cards. Or, cars, for that matter. She'd woken with a new text message. He'd sent interior and exterior shots of a 1958 Ferrari GT California Spyder. Brooke had no doubt he planned to keep up the ruthless volleying until she finally showed up naked on his doorstep. He wanted her to kowtow, to break under his seduction.

  Her stomach did a little flip, because it was possible. A preemptive strike was necessary.

  In the past week, he'd sent her pictures of Plymouth Superbirds, Camaros, and GTOs. His choices of cars were well thought out. His deliberateness further muddled the cocktail of emotions she felt about him as a whole.

  She wasn't actually getting off at the sight of a G6. Not even she was that twisted, but he was thinking about her. Dane could have easily sent her roses or something else sentimental. Instead, he was taking his time finding cars he'd know she'd gasp or drool over. The next text would be better than the last. And he had to know she wasn't a roses or sweet love notes kind of woman. He was playing a game of mental foreplay. What could be sexier?

  A moment of trepidation leaked in again as she stood in front of his store. The six windows across the front gave her a clear view inside. She'd strolled past his store a thousand times, but she'd never gone in or given it more than a cursory glance.

  The oak door had the word books stenciled in the middle. She grasped the handle, drew in a calming breath, and stepped inside.

  Shame washed over her. She'd been hardheaded and righteous, standing on principle to never step foot into his store. If she'd ever bothered to come in, maybe she'd have seen the real man Dane was before this. He'd created a haven, and she could see he hadn't completely abandoned design. Books were everywhere, but there was order.

  She walked to the archway created with stacks and stacks of books. Glass enclosed them, keeping them secured in the semiarch. She spotted The Great Gatsby along with one of the Harry Potter novels. She stepped closer to the archway and looked down the stairs. More books.

  He'd made use of the high ceiling and had built a quasi-second floor. The circular staircase made way for a platform with more bookcases. The lights were dim but sunlight touched every inch of the store, only highlighting the dark blues, tans, and golds weaved throughout the entire design. It was every bit of who Dane was: orderly, eye-appealing and interesting.

  His store was wonderful.

  Dane came out the back room. His gray dress shirt and dark gray slacks were pristine and un-rumpled as usual. “You look impressed.”

  She put the gift wrapped package behind her back and faced him. “I am. Nice place you have.”

  He stopped and smiled. “Never thought I'd hear you say that.”

  Nerves tightened her stomach. She shrugged, reminding herself being there was about getting the upper hand, not falling for the man as one facet of him after another was revealed. But, damn, playing it cool was hard with him standing within easy reach and looking pleased to see her.

  Brooke said, “Hell has frozen over.” She moved around him, farther into the store.

  She knew he'd seen the package, but she kept facing in a direction where he couldn't see exactly what she held.

  His voice deepened. “I'm guessing you're here to pay me back for this morning.”

  Finally, she turned so her back was to him, making sure to emphasize her walk. He'd watch her ass and the gift in her hands.

  She said, “I'm here to talk about the bachelor list. Depending on the timing, I could talk my brother into doing it.”

  He made a low sound, completely masculine with a touch of frustration, but asked in a calm tone, “Paying him back for some slight?”

  “Yup.”

  Pierce had started in on her again when he found out she was going to give away one of the books and which specific book. He didn't understand this game of tit-for-tat flirtation was fun. Foreplay, in a way, but innocent. There were no deeper feelings on either side. It was honest and natural to want to have sex with Dane. More? Now, that would be insane. But falling in love with him wasn't impossible, not with Dane. He was...He could easily be her everything. She could almost feel those emotions creeping into her heart every moment they spent near each other.

  His gaze narrowed, but he stayed exactly where he stood. “What did he do that requires him shirtless for all the world to see?”

  She couldn't tell him that, so she faced him. “Aren't you curious?”

  “About the gift? No.” He went to the front, flipped the sign so it read Closed on the street side, and locked the door. “Follow me to my office so we can talk about the details o
f the list. I've already emailed Naomi.”

  His tone was too blasé to be trusted. “Are you sure?” she asked.

  He gestured to the back of the store. “Come on. We can go over each name.”

  She blinked. Was he serious? She could never tell. “Obviously there's Tate, Reid, and you. I have no problems with that.”

  “I've spoken to Declan.” Dane stopped at the office door and waited until she was inside before closing it behind her. “He's happy to do it so that's why he's on the list. Everyone on it has agreed.”

  Her steps faltered, and all she could do was stare. “You actually talked to Elliot? Elliot? I thought it was just a possibility list.”

  He shook his head. “He orders books all the time. I asked and he agreed.”

  She gaped. Elliot used to be some big shot historian. He moved to Tanner Creek, but never actually talked to anyone. An oddity because no one went unscathed in the small town. If he weren’t only in his early thirties, he'd be Old Man Peabody, yelling at the kids to get off his lawn.

  “You are scary, Dane.”

  He put out his hand, a corner of his mouth curved. “I managed to get the one woman in town who hates my guts to bring me a gift. I am very persuasive.”

  Brooke took a moment to glance at his office. It screamed high-maintenance, just like the man. He had glass bookshelves, antiques, a very expensive Oriental area rug, and a gold lamp on a side table near the desk. In that same glance, she could see the spines on each book were well worn.

  She handed the gift over, but frowned when he placed it behind him on his cherry wood desk. “Now I know you're just screwing with me,” she said.

  He settled against the dark wood and crossed his arms. He looked done with exchanging niceties. It was the way his gaze had narrowed on her as though he was taking in everything about her, finding everything about her arousing. It was the tension in his stance, the jut of his jaw line, the way he drew in his breaths. Slowly. Deeply.

  The air held an unmistakable crackle. She ran her hand over the skirt of her dress and watched him follow that simple motion. Her heart pounded. Yes, she intended to take control, but hadn't expected the intensity.