Playing with Dynamite (5 page)

“What is it?”

Lisa took a deep breath. “You've heard the expression that God always answers prayers. Sometimes the answer is yes. Sometimes the answer is no.” She started walking toward Brick. “I just got a no.”

It took only a moment to reach the back of the room.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yes,” she replied, noting that he was chewing something. It was probably one of those antacids.

Her stomach was churning so much that she was tempted to ask if she could have one too. When she saw the taut, displeased look on his face, however, she changed her mind. She'd never seen him this way before. His dark mood was so intense, Lisa could practically see it hanging around him like a heavy curtain. There was something inherently primitive and masculine in his attitude. If she'd thought it was motivated by possessiveness, Lisa would have been secretly flattered. She suspected, though, that Brick disapproved of her actions, her goals, her needs. Her. And it hurt. Lisa told herself not to care.

The brief trip to the elevator was conducted in complete silence. Brick pushed the button for the ground floor.

The interior of the elevator was gorgeous, with polished wood and mirrors all around. It provided her with a multifaceted opportunity to view Brick's impressive body and expression of disapproval no matter where she looked. Extremely uncomfortable, she stared up at the numbers and heard the distinct cracking of his knuckles. She squeezed her eyes together for a second, then opened them. She couldn't bear the silence anymore. “This is crazy. You—”

The elevator ground to a stop. She quickly looked at the numbers again. Both 2 and 3 were lit up.

Brick swore and pushed the button. He tried all of them, but nothing happened. Giving a heavy sigh, he finally looked at Lisa, his face the picture of frustration. “We're stuck.”

Five minutes later, after they'd flicked the switch for the alarm and felt reasonably sure that someone was trying to fix the elevator, Lisa sank to the floor, covering her eyes with her hands. “I can't believe this night. First Henri, now this.”

“Henri was the nearly naked guy who attached himself to you like a leech.”

Lisa's heart sank to her feet.
Oh, no. Here it comes.
“I'm not sure I'd call him a leech,” she managed. “He's from another country, and he hasn't really adapted to the American view on—on—public displays of affection.”

There was a long pause. “Is Henri the green-card guy?”

Lisa heard the disbelief in his voice and kept her hands firmly over her heated face. She peeked out from between her fingers. “Yes,” she whispered.

“You went out with a stripper?”

“He was dressed at the time.”

“Thank God for small favors.” Brick looked up at the ceiling in search of help. He shook his head. “Listen, Lisa, I know you're serious about finding a husband, but this desperation—”

The
D
word galvanized her into action. She ripped her hands away from her face and sprang to her feet. “I am not desperate! That's part of the reason I'm going through this now, so I won't be desperate when I'm getting closer to forty.”

Brick saw the furious glitter in her eyes and backed off. “Okay, you're not desperate, but I'm worried about you. So far, you've gotten involved with a polygamist and a stripper.”

“I wouldn't call one date getting involved.”

He felt his own anger return in a rush. “Darlin', during the first full month that we dated,” he began in a low, deliberate voice, “I didn't get as close to you as that human version of Pepé Le Pew did during a single chorus of Prince's ‘Cream.'”

She lifted her chin in challenge. “Well, you certainly made up for it during the last six months, wouldn't you say?”

He noted the rise and fall of her breasts through her cotton blouse and remembered what she felt like in his hands, in his mouth, pressed intimately against him. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to make love to her until they were both delirious from it. This time he would pay better attention to her needs. Although he knew what she liked, he craved the knowledge of what would drive her to the edge of pleasure. He wanted to know her inside and out. But he couldn't, and his frustration rose with the same force as his ardor. “That six months was only the beginning. There was plenty more I wanted to do with you. We may have been finished in your book, but we were far from it in mine.”

He saw a quick, heady shot of desire darken her eyes and watched her nipples bead before Lisa swung away from him. “This discussion is ridiculous,” she said in an unsteady voice.

Through the reflection of the mirror, he saw her wrap her arms around her chest, as if she were instinctively easing the ache of arousal. Brick might have sympathized with her if he wasn't dealing with his own throbbing need. Just to hold her would be heaven. He was perilously close to saying to hell with this friendship thing.

She shifted, and Brick heard something between a gasp and a muffled snicker.

“Pepé Le Pew?”

The deep dissatisfaction inside him eased a little at the humor he heard in her voice. He let out a long breath of air. “You gotta admit. It fits, skunk and all.”

“Brick,” she chided sternly. But the effect was lost when she giggled. She held up a hand. “Don't say it. I'll never be able to look at that poor man again without laughing. Think of what that will do to his ego.”

He leaned against the elevator wall. “I imagine his ego can handle it,” he said dryly. “But seeing the way all those women reacted to him did raise a few questions in my mind.”

“Such as…?”

Wondering if she was going to think he was a pervert, he paused a fraction of a moment. “Is that some kind of secret fantasy women have?”

Lisa blinked. “Fantasy?”

Brick watched her carefully. “Having a man strip and dance naked in front of you.”

“You mean like Henri?”

His gaze was locked on to hers. “Henri…or a man who was important to you.”

Lisa felt an illicit heat flow through her veins. “A man who was physically and emotionally important?”

“Yeah.”

“Would this be a—uh—private performance?”

Brick nodded slowly.

Lisa sucked in a deep breath. She felt the sudden urge to fan her face. “I—uh—” She cleared her throat. “I hadn't really ever thought about it.”

Brick's face was suddenly incredulous. “Really? I have. Not about a man,” he said quickly. “But a woman. As a matter of fact, I fantasized about you.”

Lisa decided it was time to change the subject.

“Brick—”

He held up a hand. “No. Wait a minute. It was natural for me to fantasize about you when we were seeing each other. When we were apart, I thought about you all the time. And there were plenty of times that I went out of town. I had lots of fantasies about you. During that last trip, I fantasized that you stripped for me.” He leaned closer to her. “I imagined you wearing one of your business suits and taking off the jacket, then slipping out of your blouse. Then you'd step out of your skirt and you'd be wearing one of those little one-piece lace things.”

“A teddy,” Lisa said over a very dry throat.

His eyes darkened. “Yeah, a teddy. Then I imagined reaching for you, but you would laugh and pull away. You wanted to tease, and I wanted you so much, I could barely stand it. You'd step out of these sexy high heels and undo your garters—”

“I don't wear garters,” Lisa said, trying to inject a note of much-needed reality.

He gave a masculine shrug that was entirely too appealing and tossed her a killer grin. “It was
my
fantasy. When you bent to unfasten those garters,” he confided, “the straps of that teddy would fall down low enough so I could see a hint of your nipples. And, Lisa, you know how much I always loved your nipples.”

Lisa felt the tips of her breasts harden in response. She felt a heady, dizzying need. It made her heart pound against her rib cage, her pulse race at all her pressure points, her temples, her throat, the inside of her wrists and between her thighs where she felt the beginning of warmth and moistness. Somewhere in her brain, however, the voice of reason rang faintly. Lisa bit her lip against a moan. Sanity, where was her sanity? “Brick,” she managed, “I don't—”

“It's almost over,” he coaxed in a rough tone that brought back vivid memories and sensations of when he'd been closer than close. “Babe, by that time I was begging.”

“You always seemed to want me as much as I wanted you.”

Lisa closed her eyes against the tide of emotions that swept over her. His words were too intimate, but he was too far away. Her hands clenched with the need to touch him.

“The fantasy was close to real life. You kissed me and touched me and I came undone. I couldn't get enough of feeling your skin next to mine or hearing your breath hitch in your throat or watching your eyes go dark.” His voice lowered. “I couldn't get enough of being inside you, Lisa. While we were together I fooled myself into believing I was the one making love to you, but now I see it was you making love to me. You—”

Lisa couldn't stand it any longer. She felt aroused, yet torn up inside. She opened her eyes, dismayed to feel tears threaten. “No! It wasn't that way. You—”

Brick covered her lips with one finger. The honest expression in his eyes was so beautiful, it hurt. “But it was. There's too much I didn't learn about you that I still want to know.”

Her heart twisted. Acutely sensitive to that slight touch of his finger against her lips, she swallowed hard. “You knew everything there was to know.”

He shook his head. “I knew the mechanics. I want to know the secrets you've never told anyone. I want to know the fantasies you'll barely admit to yourself.”

He asked too much. She made herself pull back. “You never seemed interested in trading secrets before,” she said in a voice that quivered the way her insides did. “You always wanted things light and easy.”

“Maybe things are different now.”

An overwhelming sense of fear and desperation tore at her. “You said we're
friends
now.”

“And we always will be,” he said as if making a solemn vow.

She'd told him what she wanted! She'd laid her cards faceup on the table for him to see, and he'd walked away. Lisa couldn't say it again. It hurt too much. She felt battered and bruised and didn't want her hopes raised again. If she had any sense, she'd turn away from him, but the fact of the matter was that Brick had never been so intent with her before. It was almost as if he wanted to give her everything she wanted, but something inside him prevented it. If Lisa were a fool, she'd guess that he was fighting himself far more than he was fighting her. If Lisa were a fool, she'd guess that he needed her.

“Tell me, Lisa.”

She felt her heart shift as if she'd slammed into a tailspin on ice. Her head said
get a grip,
while her emotions played tag from one end of the spectrum to the other.

The elevator jerked. Lisa glanced at the numbers at the top of the car. It was fixed, she concluded. They would be able to get out in a moment. She would be able to escape Brick's compelling, needful gaze. She would be able to escape her own conflicting feelings.

For the moment, however, her eyes were drawn back to him. The atmosphere between them was charged with intimacy, and she felt, for no logical reason, like a cheater. He'd revealed something of himself to her, and she hadn't followed suit.

She hadn't agreed to tell him anything, she told herself, but it still didn't sit well.

Lisa couldn't tell her deepest longings, of wanting a man who would love her to distraction, of wanting a man who would give her babies and forever. Her heart jerked at the mere thought.

Damn you, Brick.
She sucked in a deep breath and stared straight into his violet eyes. “You want to know one of my secret fantasies?” she whispered harshly. “I've always wanted to do it in an elevator.”

Instantly, his gaze darkened and he reached for her. At his first touch a spasm of wanting shook her to her soul, and she realized she could have done something very foolish if the timing had been different.

The elevator doors slid open.

Lisa jerked her gaze from Brick's, swallowed hard and thanked her lucky stars that fate and the maintenance men had saved her from making a fool of herself again.

 

The following Friday night, Brick found himself staring at a choice cut of prime rib and thinking about elevators instead of enjoying his meal.

“Oh, Brick, come out, come out wherever you are,” Carly said in a singsong voice.

Brick jerked his head up and saw Jarod, Troy, Carly and Russ looking at him expectantly. They'd driven up to join him for dinner. He suspected they'd also come because they were concerned about him. Brick knew he hadn't been himself lately. He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

Carly sighed. “Is it Lisa again?” she asked in a low voice.

He lifted his drink and took a deep swallow. Although he usually detested the idea of exposing his feelings, at the moment he was too tired to give a royal rip. If his brothers bugged him too much, he was liable to forget his daddy's training and tear into them. “She's out on a blind date tonight.” He took another swallow and grimaced. “Someone her wild business partner Senada found. Someone they call Mr. Perfect.”

Brick wanted to chew glass.

Troy lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “You two looked as if you were getting along fine at the fair last week.”

“That was last week. I haven't seen her since. She's been
busy.
” God, that hurt.

Jarod frowned. “Seemed like you two were going at it pretty hot and heavy there for a while.”

Brick set his beer down. “We were.”

“Why did things cool off?”

Brick sucked in a deep breath of air. His privacy was extremely important to him. It was one of the reasons he'd moved away from Beulah County. But Lisa's decision to keep him at arm's length had become a thorn in his side, and he'd gotten to the point where he didn't know what he was fighting for or against anymore.

“She wanted to get married,” he admitted. “I wasn't ready.”

Troy shrugged. “Sounds like a no go to me. You don't want to get saddled with a pushy woman.”

Carly scowled. “Troy! Lisa didn't seem pushy to me. Maybe she's simply a woman who knows what she wants. What's wrong with that?”

Russ laid a hand on Carly's clenched one. “Nothing, but most men don't like ultimatums.”

“Yes, and a lot of men besides you want a committed woman at the same time that they want their freedom.”

Brick shook his head. “It wasn't that way. I didn't go out with anyone else once I started seeing Lisa.”

Jarod leaned forward. “Then why not marry her?”

Brick's stomach turned over, and he pushed his plate away. “I don't want to get married.”

“Ever?” Troy asked. “I don't want to get hitched for the next ten or fifteen years, but I guess I might settle down by the time I'm forty.”

“If you can find someone who'll have you,” Carly muttered.

Troy glared at his sister. “Well, I've got fifteen years to do just that.”

Impatient with the flippant exchange between Carly and Troy, Brick looked at Jarod. Although Jarod was younger than Brick, he respected him. Jarod was the quiet, deep thinker who was currently involved in an illicit affair with the recently divorced daughter of a Beulah County doctor. The affair was at odds with the steady personality of his brother. “What about you?”

Jarod gave an ironic grin. “I'm not sure I'll ever find someone who wants me.”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. What about Clarice Douglass or Amy Burkmeir or—”

“Someone who wants me—who I want too,” Jarod clarified. “But I don't think that's what Brick is talking about, is it?”

Brick rolled his shoulders restlessly. “I don't know. Don't you ever get a sick feeling in your gut at the thought of marriage? What about you, Russ? Did you ever worry that you'd get trapped in something you hated?”

Russ thought for a moment and shook his head. “I wasn't afraid of marrying Carly. I think I was more afraid of being in love with her and depending on her.”

“Same thing,” Brick said.

Russ shook his head again. “No. For me the commitment wasn't the issue. I wanted her committed to me if I had to hog-tie her to do it.” He grinned wickedly. “At one point I did threaten to tie her up, but—”

“Russ Bradford!” Carly's face flamed. “Honestly, do you think you could keep our private life out of one discussion?”

Russ wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Sorry, honey,” he murmured in a voice that said he wasn't.

Troy shifted in his seat. “Jeez, could you guys cool it?”

“Gamophobia,” Jarod said suddenly.

Brick stared at his brother again. “Gamowhat?”

“I read about it in a magazine in the dentist's office. Gamophobia is a fear of marriage or commitment. The symptoms include shortness of breath, nausea and an unexplained panic at the mere mention of marriage.” He lifted his hands. “I'm no shrink, but you might want to look into it.”

Brick felt his whole world dip and sway. “Gamophobia?” he repeated in disbelief. It couldn't be, he thought. A phobia? Not him. Absolutely, positively not him. “What else did it say?”

“That men suffered from this particular phobia more often than women and that it's treated with some of the same techniques people use to get over claustrophobia, fear of flying and other phobias. It said something about how it correlates with other intimacy issues, but I didn't get to read the whole article.”

Brick's stomach rolled again. “Treated,” he said in distaste.

“Yeah,” Jarod said thoughtfully, lifting his beer to his mouth. “By a psychologist.”

Brick spent the rest of the evening trying to grasp the idea of gamophobia. The whole thing sounded like a bunch of crap designed by psychologists to get more money out of people. Sure, he'd had a few little fears, but he'd always dealt with them or found a way around them. On the occasions he'd used explosives to accomplish a demolition job, his attitude had been one of respect rather than fear. There was no place for nerves when a man was blasting a rock foundation in a matter of seconds. That situation, like most of his jobs, called for planning, preparation and expertise.

If pressed, Brick would have to say he got a rush when a challenging job was completed.

If pressed to discuss his feelings about marriage, however, Brick would have to say he broke into a cold sweat. Which left him with an uneasy suspicion.

 

On Saturday afternoon after he checked one of his job sites, he drove to the local library to prove to himself that gamophobia didn't apply to him.

Three hours later, he left the library more troubled than ever. The summer heat was stifling inside his Thunderbird even with the T-top down. He started the ignition, flicked the air conditioner on max and sat there.

He missed her.

It was far more than physical, he was learning, and he was surprised he hadn't realized it before. He missed the way they'd sat together and watched a sports game. She was always getting her terms mixed up, he remembered with faint humor. She couldn't tell a run from a field goal, and she'd been known to make him miss a great play because she had asked him to explain something at a crucial moment. The night before he'd watched a Braves game, and it hadn't been nearly as much fun without Lisa.

She'd taken the joy, he realized. Joy was a hokey word, but it described what being with her meant to him.

He'd heard a kid banging out “Chopsticks” on a television commercial and remembered when she'd tried to make his broad hands hammer out that same song at a party they'd gone to last winter.

Looking at his hands, he felt that yawning ache again. He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel and thought about the conversation he'd had with his family. One comment Carly had made about Russ stuck in Brick's mind. As they were leaving Brick had joked with Carly to let him know if Russ ever stepped out of line.

She'd laughed and said, “Not likely.” Then her expression had turned serious. “You know, he's always been there for me. Good or bad. And especially when times were tough.” She'd smiled. “Guess I'm pretty lucky.”

Brick thought both of them were lucky, along with Daniel and Sara, and Garth and Erin. It was strange how much he wanted to be with Lisa, yet the thought of marriage still made him feel sick.
Gamophobia.

Brick shook his head, refusing to think about it anymore. He couldn't do a damn thing about it today, anyway. He could, however, start being there for Lisa. He was at a loss when it came to romantic gestures and writing gushy poems, but he could handle being there.

He remembered Lisa was overseeing a party. Checking his watch, he realized he had a few hours to kill, so he decided to get her a birthday present. He moved the car into gear and frowned at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Better late than never. So he hoped.

 

Lisa pulled into a parking space near her apartment and rested her head on the steering wheel. It had been a wretched day from beginning to end. Her body ached from head to toe. Tired to the point of being dizzy, she considered curling up in the seat and spending the night right there.

A gentle thump-thump sounded on her window. She jerked upright and saw Brick. For a moment, she wondered if she was imagining things.

“Are you okay?”

Even through the closed window, she heard the concern in his voice. Her heart clutched.
No.
Lisa turned her head in an indecisive circle, but lowered her window, and flipped the automatic locks. She took a calming breath. “C'mon in. I'm trying to get my fourth wind, so I can crawl to my door and collapse in bed.”

Instead of joining her in the car, he crouched down beside her window. “Sounds as if you had a rough day.”

This time Lisa nodded emphatically.

“You look tired.” He rose and opened her door, flipped the locks again and rolled up her window. “Wanna ride to your apartment?”

Confused, Lisa looked at the curb directly in front of her car. “I think I'm already here.”