The Secret Life of Bryan (16 page)

But these women were special in different ways. Wounded, but still able to smile. Used, but still fresh with spirit and hope. They now mattered to him, not just as a wrong he wanted to set right, not merely as pawns caught up in his brother’s plight.

They were women he now considered under his protection. Almost like family. Definitely like friends.

Shit. Caring too much always complicated things. It muddled the thought processes and weakened reflexes. Instincts got confused with emotions. He was screwed.

And that was before he factored in Shay’s effect on him. What the hell was he going to do with her? Every time she looked at him, the need to touch her, to claim her as his own, grew until it was almost unbearable.

No matter how he fought it, she was never far from his mind. And at night, he dreamed about her naked, warm and open to him, accepting him. He wanted to touch her everywhere—her luscious body, but also her mind and heart. He wanted to get between her thighs real bad, feel her clasping him, hear her crying out in pleasure. And he wanted to sit and drink more disgusting tea with her, just to hear her talk.

Hell, he’d be happy just to look at her, to watch her smiles and witness her unself-conscious loving of all those around her.

He’d told himself he’d bed her to build on their intimacy, so that she’d tell him who she really was. To ensure his brother’s safety and her own, he needed to know everything about her. It made his motives sound more logical, less carnal. Less emotional. But he wasn’t a man who lied to himself; to others, when necessary, but not to himself.

Ever since his conversation with Chili, he’d been anxious to speak with Shay, to share what he’d learned, discuss things with her and get her take on them; to hear her opinion. He’d already told Bruce, but it wasn’t the same.

He wanted—
needed
—to be alone with Shay.

Abruptly, he stood. Everyone quieted as their attention focused on him. “I should get going.”

Morganna also stood. “But I wanted to show you the books I got!” She bent down and lifted up two paperback novels. “The librarian said they’re thrillers with some romance thrown in. What do you think?”

Strange that a woman like Morganna, who was outspoken and ballsy and risqué, would want his approval. But Bryan saw it in her green eyes, in the way she toyed nervously with a long lock of her hair.

He didn’t do much reading himself, but he nodded. “The covers are kind of tattered and worn, so I’d say plenty of people must have been checking them out. That has to say something, right?”

Her posture loosened, relaxed. “That’s what I thought, too.”

Patti waved a cookbook under his nose. “I grabbed this. It has some recipes I want to try. That is, if Shay thinks they’re good ones.”

Bryan took the book and flipped through it. Cocking a brow, he read, “Pot roast? Chili? Chicken and sage stuffing? Some of my favorites.” He handed the book back, saying, “When you try the recipes, make sure I’m invited.”

“Really?” Patti actually gulped. “Well, okay.” She glanced at Shay. “If Shay helps, then I wouldn’t mind letting you try my experiments.”

“I’d be happy to help.” Shay beamed at Bryan. “And I agree, those are some of my favorites, too.”

Bryan glanced at Amy. “Amy? What’d you get?”

She clutched a book to her chest. “Nothing.”

Barb laughed. “It’s a romance. Mushy stuff.”

“Romance is supposed to be mushy,” Shay defended. “And that one is my favorite. I’ve read it at least three times.”

That surprised Bryan. “So what’s it about?” he asked Shay.

“An English duke who falls in love with the stable master’s daughter. It’s wonderful—almost like Cinderella but historically accurate.”

“I like history,” Amy whispered.

“Were dukes allowed to do that? Marry beneath their stations, I mean?” Bryan wondered if that was a personal fantasy of Shay’s, to be rescued by a rich man. She’d certainly fit the role of Cinderella, with her sweetness and giving attitude.

Shay said, “I think dukes could do pretty much whatever they wanted, especially in romance novels.”

“I got a book on gardening.”

Bryan turned to Barb. “Really?”

With a curt nod, she said, “This place looks like a dump. I thought I could maybe plant some flowers out front or something.”

His smile spread until he felt ridiculous. “When you decide what type of flowers to get, let me know and we can head to the nursery to get them.”

“I’m going up to read,” Amy said, and started to leave the room.

Morganna stopped her. “Wait.” Amy looked agonized, but Morganna just grinned. “Tomorrow is Amy’s birthday. I thought maybe we could do something special.”

“I can bake a cake,” Barb offered.

“That’s not necessary—”

Bryan held up both hands. “How about we all go out for dinner? We can try the new place where Morganna will be working. My treat.”

Shay looked thrilled with the suggestion, but the other women shrank back. Morganna actually stammered. “I can’t
eat
there.”

Shay propped her hands on her hips. “Why not? They have delicious food.”

Patti was busy shaking her head. “I don’t know squat about all those fancy forks. No.” She shook her head again. “No.”

Barb smirked. “Cowards.” And then:
“I’ll
go.”

Amy looked ready to faint. “Oh please, I don’t want to make no fuss.”

“It’s your birthday,” Shay insisted. “Of course we have to celebrate.”

“But…” Amy bit her lip. “No one ever has before.”

Bryan took that verbal blow on the chin. Christ. She’d never had a birthday party? Never gotten gifts? His eyes burned with the need to change all that. “Then it’s about time, don’t you think?”

“It’ll be fun,” Shay promised. “And ladies, you should never refuse such a nice gesture. It’s rude.”

Slumping her shoulders, her eyes downcast, Amy shrugged. “I guess it’ll be okay.”

Morganna and Patti scooted closer to one another, sharing a look of determination. “All right,” Morganna said. “We’ll go.”

Patti nodded.

You’d think he was taking them to the gallows, the way they acted. Bryan shook his head. He promised himself that they’d have a good time. He’d see to it.

He turned to Shay. “You ready?”

Her expression went blank. “Uh…”

He looked at the others. “Shay has to get some things and I don’t want her out alone. I don’t want any of you out alone. Understood?”

“When’d you get so bossy?” Patti asked.

“He was beat up, dummy, remember?” Barb sounded very exasperated. “And now someone shot out the kitchen window. He’s always felt responsible for the lot of us.”

“That he has,” Morganna agreed, and then she winked at Shay. “You be careful, both of you. We’ll lock up behind you.”

Patti suddenly caught on. “Oh, yeah. I’ll get the door.” She actually giggled as she trailed behind them, and as they went down the walk, she called out, “Have fun, kids!”

Shay winced, but Bryan didn’t react at all. Maybe he hadn’t been subtle enough, but then he felt like he’d been waiting forever. He counted himself lucky that he managed to get out of the safe house without confessing outright.

He wanted her.

Tonight, in just a few minutes, he’d have her.

E
vening began settling over the area, bringing with it a cool, whispering breeze. The sun slowly sank, leaving the sky a spectacular shade of violet streaked with red and pink. One by one, streetlamps flickered on.

Shay tipped her head back and took several deep, invigorating breaths. She felt so good. The library outing had been a blast, and when she’d called Dawn, she found out that her offer for the property down the street had been accepted.

Things were moving right along. “It’s pretty here at night, isn’t it?”

Bryan gave her an incredulous glance. “We’re in the slums, Shay.”

“That’s not how I see it.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “We just left friends.” She peeked at him. “You do consider them friends, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, as if the admission amused him. “I do.”

“We’re both healthy. The sky is spectacular, the crickets are singing, and the present company”—she prodded him with an elbow—“is wonderful. How much nicer could it get?”

“You’re ignoring the noise from the bars and the stench from the alleys.”

Shay moved along silently beside him, while Bryan spent his time scanning the area, watching for any signs of movement. He was so good at that, at being alert and protective and macho.

“Actually,” she whispered, “I’ve just learned to concentrate on the pleasant parts. There are ugly things everywhere, not just here. People, places, attitudes. Misconceptions. If you dwell on them, it could make you sad. So why not concentrate on the good things instead?”

Bryan’s surveillance of the area never wavered, but she felt his heightened attention to her. “Has there been much ugliness in your life?”

In recent times, there’d been plenty—the stain on her name, the discrediting of her efforts. She shook her head. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

He took her upper arm and steered her toward a walkway. “But then, you can handle just about anything, can’t you?”

She couldn’t tell for sure, but Shay thought he might have said that facetiously. She lifted her chin and gave him an honest answer. “I like to think so.” She sincerely hoped she could handle
him.
More than anything else in her recent experience, he mattered to her.

Bryan reminded her of Sebastian, her sister’s husband. He was just as good, just as kindhearted and honest, just as big and macho. But she felt only friendship for Sebastian, whereas Bryan stirred deep, dark emotions within her.

Heading toward a building, he asked, “Do you mind that I told a small lie to the ladies?”

“I thought it was clever,” Shay admitted. She glanced up at him. “There are some things I need—from you.”

He looked more drawn and urgent by the moment.

Shay smiled. “Do you think any of them bought it?”

“No. They’re not idiots.” He laced his fingers with hers and for the first time, Shay had hope that he was done fighting her, and done fighting himself. “But I think they approved, given the way they sent us off.”

“What about you? Do you approve?”

Bryan tugged her toward a heavy wooden door. Instead of answering, he said, “I had to insist, but I finally got the landlord to install some flood lamps. This whole yard used to be dark as pitch.”

Shay decided not to push him. It was enough that he’d invited her over, that he was holding her hand and chatting with her. “Is this where you got jumped? Were you coming home one night when the guy ambushed you?”

He grunted. “How about we save that conversation until we’re inside?”

“All right.”

The lobby door didn’t close tight and he shoved it open, then led Shay up the stairs to the second floor. With each step they took, her heart beat harder, faster.

“I spoke with Chili today,” he said, breaking the silence. “The worm tried to dodge me, but I ran him down.”

“He’s that little man I met my first night here, right? The smelly, shifty one with the bad hair.”

“That’s him.”

“What do you mean, you ran him down?”

“Tackled him in an alley. He had on dress shoes. Slick as hell, those dress shoes.” Bryan opened the locks and pushed the door open. “Wait here.”

Slipping inside, he moved silently around the apartment, checking each room and turning on lights in his wake before returning to Shay. “It’s clear. Come on in.”

She stood there, annoyed and dumbfounded. “Did you expect an intruder?”

“I have reason to be cautious now, that’s all.” Again, he took her hand in his. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Shay didn’t move. “Why?”

Frowning, he tugged her in. “I don’t want to talk in the damn hall. The walls are paper thin and anyone could be listening.”

“All right.” Shay allowed herself to be drawn in, then leaned against the closed door while Bryan clicked all the locks back into place. When he finished, he faced her, and Shay’s stomach fluttered with excitement.

Eyes hot and direct, Bryan slowly looked her over, from her feet in flat sandals to her slim jeans and white blouse with the shirttails loose over a white T-shirt.

His gaze locked on hers. In a voice gone rough and deep, he asked, “You hungry, Shay?”

She breathed faster. “Not…not especially. You?”

Bryan braced his left hand on the door beside her head. It was large and rough—such a contrast to her own slim, pale hand. His biceps bulged and flexed as he stared at her mouth. “Not for food.”

Her lips parted, her knees locked.

“Maybe,” he said, his breath hot on her mouth, “we can eat later?”

“Oh.”

His right hand landed on the door, too, and his firm, hair-rough forearms brushed her temples. He was so good, and so strong. So moral, and so sexy. So giving—and now so ready to take.

Like a predator, he had caged her in, watching her with carnal intent. That suited Shay just fine. She wanted to devour him, but…was there some sort of decorum involved in loving a preacher? Would he have restrictions that other men didn’t have? She didn’t want to shock or repulse him.

Shay licked her lips, slid her hands up and over his shoulders to his neck. She decided to move cautiously, until she could determine his mood. “Much later, I hope.”

The heat flared. His jaw locked. His eyes blazed.

Then, as if the dam burst, he growled, “Ah…Fuck it.” And his mouth took hers.

Shocked at his language as well as his sudden hunger, Shay gasped. But that only made it easier for him to deepen the kiss. His velvet tongue licked over hers, teasing, tasting, melting her bones. Oh wow, he smelled so delicious, and tasted even better than that.

Beneath her palms, his shoulders were warm steel and she could feel the shifting of solid muscles over thick bone. His wide chest pressed into her softer curves, thrilling her with the evidence of his tempered power.

Rather than abate, the kiss continued, gaining in intensity until tiny pinpricks of light danced behind her eyelids, leaving her almost dizzy. She tried to draw in more oxygen, but instead she drank in his masculine scent. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she whimpered.

Bryan slanted his head, parting her lips more, holding her closer until their heartbeats mingled. One big hand settled on the back of her head, his fingers sinking into her hair, tangling there so she couldn’t move, couldn’t retreat at all.

Never in her life had she been consumed like this. She’d had kisses, but in no way could they compare to this.

Obviously, he had no restrictions for her to worry about.

Freed of her reserve, Shay slid her hands over him, seeking an anchor, appeasing her curiosity, loving the feel and texture of his big body.

Bryan took that as an invitation to do the same. One moment he’d be tender, touching her face, tracing her ears with trembling fingertips, then he’d tighten his hold and try dragging her closer when she was already so close that anything more seemed almost impossible.

He wedged a thigh between hers, opening her legs, grinding against her sex. Shay jerked her mouth free and gulped air, amazed at how quickly she spiraled out of control. She dropped her head back on the wooden door with a moan.

“More,” he murmured, and with ruthless ease, he took her swollen lips again. It was different now, though. As if her loss of control had appeased him, he softened the kiss, gently soothing her mouth, lazily licking and nibbling.

Bracing his left forearm beside her head freed up his right hand, and he sought out her breast. The very first touch of his hand there electrified her. She opened her eyes and saw that he was watching her, his eyes dark as sin, his long lashes lowered sensually.

“Bryan?” she whispered, shaken by the depth of his look.

“You are so soft and sweet.” His hand opened so that his palm brushed over her already stiffened nipple, back and forth, back and forth. “I can’t wait to taste you. All of you.” His hips pressed in more, both appeasing and increasing the ache. Shay let her head drop back again.

Soft kisses touched her throat and collarbone, drifting here and there, leaving small, heated, damp spots behind.

Her bra offered no barrier at all to his hard fingers. It was thin, a wisp of lace that rasped over her when he caught her nipple, tugging lightly, rolling, applying a modicum of pressure that nearly pushed her over the edge.

“Oh, God.” Her hands moved blindly down his back while she arched into him, seeking more pressure from his thigh, pushing her breast into his palm. There was so much of him to enjoy, all solid muscles and incredible strength.

Shay slid her hands down to his waist, around to the small of his back…

Her fingers encountered cold, hard steel. Alarmed, she jerked her mouth free. “Bryan?”

“What?” He held tight, licked her ear, nipped her earlobe.

Drugging sensuality mingled with clear-conscious alarm. She closed her hand over the gun and tugged, but it held in the waist holster. Shay met his gaze. “What,” she demanded, “are you doing with a weapon?”

The look on his face was comical—for about two seconds. Then he moved back so fast, Shay almost fell to the floor. Their gazes clashed, hers confused and still needy, his hot and…angry.

At her?

Using the door for support, stiffening her shaky knees, Shay straightened. She refused to look away. “You’re carrying a gun. Why?”

Seconds ticked by while she saw one excuse after another flick across his features. For crying out loud, he was a preacher, not a lawman, not a criminal. “Another lie on the way, Bryan?”

He broke eye contact first, running a hand through his hair and all but growling out his frustration. “No, I’ll tell you the truth, at least as much of it as you need to know.”

Still he said nothing, and Shay made a sound of exasperation. “Yes?”

“Give me a minute,” he snapped. And then, with chagrin, “I’m still a little poleaxed that I forgot the damn thing was there.”

“You forgot you were carrying a gun?”

He fried her with his gaze. “Look, I was jumped from behind. Someone shot into the kitchen. You’ve been getting strange calls and the tires were slashed—”

“So you think to shoot someone?”

His jaw jutted out and his shoulders bunched. “I’ll shoot anyone who tries to hurt the safe house or any of the women in it. And that includes you.”

Shay sucked in a breath. “You’d shoot me?”

“No!” He looked more frazzled by the moment. “I meant that I’d shoot anyone who tried to hurt you. Jesus, get it straight.”

He looked so rattled, she almost laughed. But not quite. “You’re a preacher,” she reminded him. “What kind of preacher vows to shoot people?”

His eyes narrowed meanly. “I told you from jump, I’m a different kind of preacher.”

“A gun-toting preacher, full of righteous fury and defense?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” He swallowed, ran a hand through his hair again. “Look, Shay, I’ll put the gun away, okay?” He reached back and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, then stripped it off over his head.

Oh, my, my, my.
Shay stared at his body and felt her knees go weak all over again. Gorgeous—incredibly, excitedly gorgeous. His blond hair was in direct contrast to the darker body hair on his wide, muscled chest. It spread from nipple to nipple, then trailed down to his navel and disappeared into his jeans.

Her mouth went dry.

The skin over his shoulders and throat looked smooth and hot, sleek over hard bone and muscle. His abdomen was an enviable six-pack that could have been used in advertisements for a gym. No man, and definitely not a preacher, should be built so utterly perfect.

Keeping his gaze on hers, he began unbuckling a thick black leather belt. Shay opened her mouth twice before she could say, “You’re stripping now?” And in a rasp: “Here?”

He flashed her a glare. “No.” With one hand behind his back, he held the holster while yanking his belt out. Apparently, that was what held the gun in place. “We’ll both strip in a minute. I’m just putting the gun away.” He rolled the belt and holster together and strode down the hall with heavy, impatient footfalls.

Unwilling to be left behind, Shay hurried to follow him. His apartment was tidy but dusty, and sparse in the extreme—most definitely a male habitat.

She reached the bedroom doorway in just enough time to see Bryan open a nightstand drawer. He started to drop the gun inside, but the drawer was crowded. Inside were a fat Bible and a large box of condoms.

He stared at the drawer a moment, then his head turned toward her, his dark, fathomless eyes daring her to comment. She didn’t have a single thing to say, so he removed the condoms, set them on top of the nightstand and dropped the gun inside.

He snapped the drawer shut. “Better?”

Oh, Lord. Shay’s stomach tumbled in mingled excitement and uncertainty. The man was such a mystery. She knew a smart woman would be backing away.

Maybe she wasn’t so smart, because no way was she walking away now.

Regardless of what she didn’t know about him, what she did know was all good. Bryan might not be the stereotypical preacher, but he was definitely a wonderful man. He treated ex-hookers with respect and friendship. He had a protective streak a mile wide. He gave freely of his time and had earned the respect of many in return.