Читать книгу The Braddock Boys: Brent - Kimberly Raye - Страница 9

SHE WHIRLED AND STARED up at him with blue eyes so clear and vivid that he should have been able to see everything going on in her head. She was startled. That’s all he got before the window slammed shut and he was pushed out.

For the first time, he found himself stuck noticing her features. The sparkle of her eyes. The fullness of her cheeks. The smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

Cute.

But Brent didn’t do cute. Even more, he didn’t do locals. So what if she had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and a pink, pouty mouth that inspired the most wicked thoughts? He wasn’t interested. No sir.

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.