Carae's Touch (Long Line of Love, #4) Page 9

  "I really need to be held, but I don't want you invading my thoughts."

  He extended his hand. "You have my word that I won't."

  She stared at him for a moment before she moved forward and into his embrace.

  He hugged her close, pressing his lips against her hair. "Whatever I said or did, I apologize. I've tried so hard not to hurt you. I'm so sorry I didn't succeed."

  She clung to him, shaking, and he realized she was crying.

  The temptation to invade her thoughts to discover what he'd done wrong so he could atone for it was difficult to overcome. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that doing so would make things worse between them.

  "Forgive me," he whispered. He stepped away from her, cupped her face in his hands, and brushed his mouth against her ear. "Forgive me for hurting you."

  "You didn't know what you were doing."

  He frowned. "Please tell me what I did, Carae."

  "It doesn't matter," she said, lifting her hands to wipe her damp cheeks. "It's enough for me to know that you didn't do it intentionally."

  But he felt the tension in her and knew she didn't really mean it. He suspected she was looking for an excuse to blow up at him for doing God only knew what.

  When she stepped away from him, he allowed his hands to fall from her face.

  "I promised to go see Layton's kids today. Will you come with me?"

  She shook her head. "Thanks, but I doubt they want to see me."

  "You could visit with Tempest while—"

  "Uninvited? I don't think so."

  "Believe me when I tell you that she will welcome you with open arms. Any of my sisters-in-law would. As would all my close friends. After I see them we could go for a drive or just come back here for a swim in the pool or go shopping if you like."

  "I'm always up for shopping but unfortunately I have no money."

  "I do."

  "Are you offering me money?"

  "Why not? Generally, when I'm seeing a woman I spend a fortune on flowers and candy. In lieu of that, we could go shopping."

  "We're not dating."

  "Don't split hairs, Carae. You have no money. I have more than I need or intend to spend anytime soon. Let's stimulate the economy by going on a shopping spree. I hope it goes without saying that there's no strings attached."

  "I really do like you, Brandon. I have from the moment we met."

  He nodded. "I know and I'm sure you know the feeling is mutual. The moment I saw you, I..."

  "You what? Don't stop now. I could really use a pick me up."

  "I fell hard the moment I saw you...even before I saw your face." He shrugged. "But I've never made any secret of that."

  She glanced towards his bedroom. "Are you ready to tell me about them?"

  "No."

  "Then how can we ever do any more than like each other if you won't talk to me about her? Or is that all you want?"

  "What I want right now, is for you to forgive me for hurting you. I so need your patience and understanding."

  "You know I wanted more than that, Brandon."

  Oh, damn. "Wanted or want?"

  She shrugged. "I'm not sure anymore."

  What the hell had he said or done while asleep to change her mind? Had she come into his bedroom and found him calling out Rissa's name in his sleep? Or worse had she walked in and found him masturbating and been turned off? "Clearly we need to talk."

  "I'm going home now. We can talk later."

  "When?"

  She shrugged. "Maybe some time next week."

  "I have a better idea. Why don't you wait here for me and we'll go shopping when I return?"

  "I don't think—"

  "Don't think. Just do it, Carae. Please?"

  "Okay. I'll wait here."

  "You promise? You're not planning to leave the moment I'm gone?"

  She started to shake her head and then suddenly laughed. "Actually, I was."

  He bent his head and pressed a slow, warm kiss against her lips that left him longing to make love to her. "But now you won't?"

  She sighed against his mouth. "Are you bribing me?"

  He kissed her again, briefly sucking her tongue. "Is it working?"

  "Yes. I'll be here when you return."

  "You promise?"

  "Yes, sweetie, I do."

  He caressed her cheek. "I need you to forgive me, Carae. Whatever I said or did, was unintentional."

  "I know." She turned her head and kissed his hand.

  "And you'll forgive me?"

  "I'll try."

  He nibbled at her neck. "I'd walk barefoot over hot coals to undo whatever I did."

  "That doesn't impress me, Brandon."

  "Why not?"

  She curled her fingers in his hair. "Because I'm sure you're one of those mystic types who could do that without even scorching the soles of your big feet."

  He laughed. "You know what they say about men with big feet."

  "Are you implying it's true?" She asked after a rather long and awkward pause.

  "I'm not implying anything. I'm coming right out and saying it's true—at least in my case."

  "Yes, well, some women want more than just a big dick, Brandon."

  He compressed his lips before speaking again. "That's not all I have to offer."

  "I hope not, because that can be vastly overrated." She stepped away from him. "Now how about breakfast?"

  He watched her turn and walk towards the kitchen. What the fuck had he done and how could he find out without invading her thoughts? And why did he feel as if she'd just questioned his sexual prowess?

  Chapter Six

  An hour after Brandon left, Carae sat on his sofa watching Bancroft pace up and down the living room as she talked. When she fell silent, he groaned and knelt in front of her. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Did you tell him what happened?"

  She shook her head. "No."

  He rose and resumed pacing. "You want me to tell him?"

  "No."

  He turned to look at her. "I thought that's why you told me."

  "I told you because I needed to tell someone. I couldn't tell him and if I told any of my friends, they'd insist it was forced and I had to report it."

  "You don't consider it forced?"

  "How can I when he doesn't remember and was fast asleep at the time?"

  "Oh, thank God!" he said and knelt in front of her again. He took her hands in his and held them against his chest. "Lately, he's been suffering through nightmares that it's impossible to rouse him from. He would never have willingly hurt you. I'm so sorry. If I'd had any idea—"

  "It's not your fault. I just needed to talk to someone."

  "If you're packed, I'll drive you home."

  "I promised him I'd be here when he returned."

  "Okay. I'll come back later to drive you home."

  "I don't know if I am going home."

  He released her hands, rose, and sat on the sofa beside her. "You think staying another night is wise?"

  "If he has another nightmare, I'll know better than to go in his bedroom. Thankfully, I'm confident he won't come sneaking into mine with coercion on his mind."

  "If you change your mind, you can call me any time, no matter how late."

  "Thanks." He looked ready to leave. "Will you stay awhile?"

  "Ah..." He glanced towards the door and hesitated before finally nodding. "Sure. What would you like to do?"

  "Talk."

  "About?"

  "Brandon and her. What else?"

  He sighed. "There's only so much I feel comfortable saying that he hasn't already told you."

  "He hasn't told me anything of substance and I need to know if he's still in love with her."

  He sighed and shook his head. "I'm not sure it's possible to be in love with someone who is dead."

  "Why can't he talk about her or the baby?"

  He arched a brow. "The baby? He told you about the baby?"

  "He said when she died he al
so lost their baby."

  "That's far more than he generally tells anyone who didn't know her. I know it must be difficult to try to form a relationship when he..."

  "Won't talk about her?"

  "I think it's a question of can't talk about her. Not won't. I think he just needs more time. When you two get to know each other better, he'll start to unwind. Then he'll be able to talk about their loss. That is if you still think he's worth the effort."

  "If I had half a brain, I wouldn't. Even before the incident in his bedroom, he showed a dark side at the door when I wanted to leave and he didn't want me to."

  "I won't deny that loving a Grayhawk can be challenging, but—"

  She shook her head. "I didn't say I love him."

  He shrugged. "But you do."

  She stared at him and started to shake her head again.

  He held up a hand. "Why else would you even consider staying after last night?"

  A good question to which she had no rational answer. She sighed. "I wish the feeling was mutual."

  "Don't be so sure that it isn't."

  She felt her heartbeat increase. "Are you saying he's in love with me?"

  "I'm saying I wouldn't discount the fact that he is."

  "But you know how he feels."

  He nodded. "But as a twin yourself, you must know I'm not prepared to break faith with him by revealing more than he wants you to know about his feelings. However, you're the first and only woman he's shown an interest in since Rissa's death. He sure as hell hasn't had any spending the night."

  "If you expect me to persevere, you're going to have to tell me more than that."

  "I do expect you to persevere mainly because I think you're in love with him. But I also know that if you do, you won't be sorry."

  "I'm going to need you to tell me something about her because despite what you say, she is my competition."

  "I suppose you couldn't help seeing her picture on his bedroom wall."

  "No. I couldn't." Or hearing it.

  "Losing Rissa devastated him in ways you can't imagine. Once he accepts that he has to move on, I can't see him wanting to do it with anyone but you. There's no one else on his radar or who has even come close to commanding his romantic attention the way you have. "You must know he's more than attracted to you."

  She remembered feeling him sliding so forcefully and so deliciously inside her and felt her cheeks burn. He was definitely attracted to her—at least in his sleep.

  "How much more, you're going to have to get from him."

  She frowned. "Has anyone ever told you that you are particularly useless?"

  "I believe you just have," he said, smiling.

  She moistened her lips. "Was she psychic?"

  "Rissa?"

  She nodded.

  "Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

  "Because...she...last night...I'm a fairly heavy sleeper. I might not have heard him had I not had help."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Someone called me and woke me."

  "Who?"

  "Her."

  "Who?"

  She shrugged. "It must have been her."

  "Rissa?"

  "Yes. It must have been her because I heard a voice in my head telling me he needed me. It was nonverbal. Who else could it have been but her?" She sighed. "So now you're probably going to think I'm nuts."

  "No. I don't think you're nuts. You're talking to a guy who has premonitions among other things that could make the less enlightened think I'm crazy."

  "So you think it was her?"

  "I don't know."

  "Who else could it have been?"

  He shrugged. "It might have been our mother."

  Recalling the sexual turn the "conversation" had taken, she shook her head. "She's dead."

  He arched a brow. "So is Rissa."

  "Not to him."

  "She's dead, Carae. Yes, our mother is also dead, but she has been known to appear occasionally when one of us is in dire straits as Brandon is. Maybe she woke you."

  "So he could have his way with me?"

  He narrowed his gaze. "You make it sound as if you now feel you've been raped after all and as if you think our mother would be a party to such an outrage."

  She shook her head. "I didn't mean to imply that about your mother."

  "But you do feel as if he raped you?"

  "No."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I didn't want to have sex with him last night under those conditions, but I still don't feel as if he raped me. If I had, I would have fought him."

  "What conditions?"

  She felt her cheeks warming again. "He didn't...he wasn't wearing protection."

  He frowned. "And that was a problem for you?"

  "Of course it was!"

  "You don't want children?"

  "Yes. I do. However, for me love and marriage come first. Kids come later."

  "I see."

  "Good. Then you can explain it to him."

  "You can't really blame a man for wanting nothing between him and his woman."

  "I'm not his woman!"

  "Aren't you?"

  She stared at him. "You think I am?"

  "You think you're not?"

  "I think Rissa is."

  "Rissa was a lovely woman, just as you are. But she's dead while you're pretty, warm, alive, and just what he needs."

  "I wish I knew he didn't think he was with her last night instead of me."

  "Yes, he loved her dearly, but she is not your competition. You have none. I don't know who he dreamed of last night, but I do know he's dreamed of you more than once."

  "Has he?"

  "Yes. Now, what can I do to help that doesn't involve betraying his confidence?"

  "Can you sit with me?"

  "Of course I can."

  * * *

  After he'd spent two hours playing games with Malita and Brandon, Layton came to Brandon's rescue by pretending that he was feeling neglected. His kids immediately rushed into his open arms. Winking at Brandon, Layton carried the twins out of the family room and up the stairs.

  Five minutes later, Brandon left. He made two stops on the way home, making the drive from Layton's home to his seem to last twice as long as it normally did. Finally, he stepped off the elevator and quickly walked to his unit. As soon as he let himself in, he heard music coming from the balcony.

  Putting the flowers and candy he'd bought on the way home on the living room sideboard, he walked towards the French doors. Carae and Bancroft danced on the balcony. Even though they weren't slow dancing and he knew there was no romantic attraction on either side, he was still annoyed to find her in Bancroft's arms.

  "What brings you here, Croft?" he asked, walking out to join them.

  Bancroft lifted the remote for the audio system from one of the patio tables and turned to look at him. "Since when do I need an excuse to just show up?"

  One of the many Grayhawk traditions involved all the older brothers having an open door policy that allowed all younger siblings to come and go as freely as they would at the family home. Now that three of the eldest were married, the focus shifted to him and Bancroft.

  "I asked him to come," Carae said.

  "Why?" he asked, keeping his gaze on Bancroft.

  "I needed to talk."

  He finally looked at her. "And you didn't feel you could talk to me?"

  "I was grilling him about you, but as you probably know he didn't tell me anything I didn't already know."

  "But you talked?"

  She nodded.

  She seemed more at ease than she'd been when he left, which probably meant she'd confided in Bancroft. And that did not sit well with him. "Will you excuse us for a moment?" he asked.

  She nodded. "Okay, but don't be long."

  "I bought you flowers and some candy. They're on the sideboard," he said.

  "Thanks, sweetie."

  He waited until she'd walked inside and slipped the door shut before he turned
his attention back to Bancroft. "She told you why she was upset. Didn't she?"

  "She needed to talk."

  "About last night?"

  Bancroft shrugged.

  "Why is she upset? What did I do?"

  Bancroft shook his head and started to turn away.

  He grabbed Bancroft's wrist.

  Bancroft turned back and pulled his wrist free. "You know that won't work with me."

  "Tell me what I need to know."

  "She needed to talk in confidence and I assured her she was doing that."

  "I need to know what I did."

  "I know, but I promised her I'd allow her to tell you in her own time."

  "What the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

  "I know it's not easy but the best thing you can do to help your case is to tell her about Rissa and the baby."

  He inhaled and shook his head. "Don't you think I would if I could?"

  "If you want to keep her interest, you're going to need to dig deep, peel back a layer of pain, and share it with her."

  That would require him to admit his part in Rissa being at the wrong place at the wrong time. If not for his refusal to do the right thing, she wouldn't have been there to get murdered and he'd be happily married with at least one child. "I need you to tell me what I did wrong last night." He hesitated and then took a deep breath. "I didn't...hit her. Did I?"

  "She doesn't blame you for what happened. She knows you were in the midst of a nightmare that she couldn't rouse you from."

  "So I hit her?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "Then what the fuck did I do?"

  "Ask her."

  "You're not going to tell me?"

  "I'll tell you that she's yours to lose, Hoss. Forget all the nonsense about being too old or having too much emotional baggage for her. She knows you have issues and she still wants you. You want her. Make the most of that while you can. Don't lose her. Tell her the truth."

  "Meaning what?"

  "Meaning tell her you love her. Do that and I'm sure she'll forgive you for anything."

  But what the hell was anything? And who the hell said anything about loving her? He more than liked her, but that did not translate into being in love with her.

  Still he decided he didn't want to run the risk of losing her to someone who might have no problem saying he felt far more than he did.

  "Now I think it's time I leave you two alone." Bancroft put a hand on his shoulder. "She's eager to help you heal. Tell her how you feel and let her. You know that's what Rissa would have wanted...for you to have another chance at love and happiness with a woman eager to give you both."