have.”
Brandon moved closer to her. “You’re still young. You’ve got plenty of time to meet someone who matters. Now, me? I’ll be thirty-seven this year.”
“I’ll bet you’ve had lots of girlfriends.” She already knew that he did. His online profiles were filled with beautiful women.
He shrugged. “I’ve had my fair share, but not like Tommy. Women used to throw themselves at him. He’s married now, with a baby on the way. It’s the happiest he’s ever been.”
“That’s good.” She’d read about Tommy and his wife, Sophie, in the book. Matt’s relationship with his fiancée, Libby, was showcased, too. Libby was also the author of the book, the biographer Kirby had hired to tell his story. “I guess entertainment lawyers don’t have groupies, then?”
“No, I can’t say that we do.” He moved closer still. “But it’s an intriguing idea.”
Mary’s throat went tight. With the “intrigued” way he was looking at her, you’d think he was picturing her as his sweet little groupie. She could actually feel the air growing thick between them. And now her mixed-up mind was running rampant, and she was imagining what kind of lover he would be.
A powerful one, she thought, who would make her sigh and melt and moan—right at his feet.
Panic set in. “I should let you go.” She was overwhelmed by the hunger, the heat, the dizzying urge to share his bed. “You came here to walk Cline, and I’m taking up all of your time.” Before she blew it completely, she added, “Maybe I’ll run into you next Sunday.” She was supposed to be setting a honey trap, not darting off like a scared rabbit.
“Sure. I’d like that.” He spoke softly, fluidly, as smooth as the Tennessee whiskey he probably drank. “I’d like it very much.”
“Me, too.” Her heart pounded unmercifully inside her chest. She’d just caught a whiff of his summer-fresh cologne. Or maybe it was the scent of a finely milled soap lingering on his skin.
“I’ll be here, same place, same time.” He rattled his dog’s leash. “Same husky.”
“Okay.” She cursed her pounding heart. She’d captured his interest, doing what she’d set out to do. But for now, she needed to escape with her emotions intact. “Bye, Brandon.”
“Goodbye, Mary.”
She walked away, doing her best to stay calm. But even as she departed she sensed that he’d spun around to watch her, as aroused by her as she was by him.
* * *
As soon as Mary entered their apartment, her sister rushed to greet her. “What happened? Did you talk to him?”
“Yes.” And she was still trying to get a handle on the lust-tinged way he made her feel. She removed her sweater and draped it over a dining chair. “I was so nervous I don’t know how I got through it.”
“You have to tell me everything.” Alice grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the sofa.
They sat side by side. Thank goodness the sliding glass door to their itty-bitty patio was open. Mary needed the air.
“So?” Alice pressed.
“Can I have a minute? I need to catch my breath.”
“But I’ve been waiting here for hours.”
“All I’m asking for is a minute.”
“Whatever.” Alice rolled her heavily lined eyes. She went through phases, and currently she was on a cowpunk kick, where she’d patterned her style after a vintage trend derived from cowboy and punk rock influences. At the moment, she wore a skintight Western ensemble and gothic jewelry. Her bleached platinum hair was short and spiked. But no matter how outlandish she looked, her beauty remained evident. Mama had been gorgeous, too. Mary had always been plain by comparison. Yet she was the one who’d just had an encounter with Kirby’s devastatingly handsome son.
“Time’s up,” Alice said. She pointed to the clock on the cable TV box. “It’s been at least a minute.”
If Mary wasn’t so frazzled, she would have laughed. Her sister was one of the most impatient people she knew.
She started with saying, “He seemed to like me.” Just thinking about him was making her breathe harder and faster. “He’s even more striking up close. It was different than checking out his pictures or spying on him from a distance. Looking into his eyes was just so...real, I guess.”
“So he’s hotter than you anticipated? And he seemed to like you?” Alice waggled her brows suggestively. “You shouldn’t have any trouble getting him into bed.”
“I’m not...” Mary frowned, steeped in her own forbidden desires. “I already told you that even if he took an interest in me, sex was off the table. I couldn’t possibly—”
“You’re such a prude.” Alice shook her head. “But you’ll just have to hold his attention in other ways.” She leaned forward. “So tell me the rest of it.”
Mary expounded on the beginning of their conversation, before she’d started fantasizing about being his lover.
Alice listened and said, “I’ll bet you were really scared when he asked you if you knew who he was.”
“I was petrified.” So afraid he’d figured her out.
“It sounds like you handled it just fine. I knew you’d be a natural at presenting yourself as a nice girl.”
“It didn’t make me feel very nice.” For now, she just felt confused. “What if we have him pegged wrong? What if he isn’t responsible for what happened? He might not have even known that his dad was lying about our mom. If he filed the restraining order because he believed that Mama was a stalker, then he was just doing his job.”
Alice gaped at her. “You can’t be serious.”
She hated to think of Brandon as a bad person now that she’d met him. Or maybe she just hated to think of herself being attracted to someone so cold and calculating. “I’m just covering all of the bases.”
“Come on, Mar. Don’t make him out to be innocent in all of this. Attorneys are known for being shrewd.”
“I just want to be sure, that’s all.”
“I don’t have any doubts, and I guarantee when it’s over, you’ll be convinced that he’s as ruthless as his dad.”
“You’re probably right.” But now that the wheels were in motion, she needed to figure him out, to know for certain. “At least I’ll be seeing him next week.”
“You should bring him some pastries. You can bake something special just for him.” Alice waggled her eyebrows again. “A little sugar to tempt his palate.”
“He did say that he had a sweet tooth. But I’ll have to think about what to make.” She had no idea what his preferences would be. “I should bake some doggy biscuits for Cline, too.”
“Oh,
