Playing with Dynamite. Leanne Banks

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“And it looks like more Pendletons are on the way, so I guess congratulations are in order. When are you due?”

      “September for us,” said Erin, patting her stomach.

      “Ours is due in November,” Daniel said, taking Sara’s hand.

      Lisa sensed the love that flowed between them and felt a twinge of envy. She brushed it aside, though, and focused on getting a fix on the different personalities of Brick’s family. Daniel was extremely solicitous of his wife, Sara, but she supposed the same could be said of Garth and Erin. Jarod seemed to observe in silence, while Troy was loud.

      “Are we overwhelming you?” Carly asked.

      “Not really. When Brick told me how many brothers he had, I imagined six ‘Bricks.’”

      “Heaven help us all,” Carly said, rolling her eyes.

      Lisa laughed. “Now I see that one’s taller, one’s quiet, one cracks jokes.”

      “Well, if you forget any names, don’t feel bad. Just ask me and I’ll be glad to give you a prompt. The twins, Ethan and Nathan, live out of state, so you’ll be spared remembering their names this time.”

      “You own the riverboat, don’t you?”

      Carly nodded. “My husband, Russ, and I do.”

      “Oh, I didn’t realize you were married.”

      Carly hesitated and lowered her voice. “Brick hasn’t told you very much about us, has he?”

      Lisa felt another twinge of pain, despite a hundred silent reminders that she shouldn’t because her romantic relationship with Brick was over. “He, uh, mentioned you a month or so ago and…”

      “Yeah, well, he mentioned you to us the last several times he visited.”

      That stopped Lisa in her tracks. She glanced at Brick and found him gazing at her while his brother Troy was talking. For an instant, his eyes seemed to meld with hers. She felt a shudder inside her, like the first rumblings of an earthquake. His gaze was so determined. She shuddered again.

      The corners of his mouth lifted in a slow, knowing smile that made her heart pound against her rib cage. Lisa absently pressed her hand against her chest to make her heart behave.

      “If you decide to stay overnight, you’re welcome at my house,” Carly offered.

      Lisa ripped her gaze from Brick’s. “Oh no. That won’t be necessary. I’m not—”

      “And if you have any questions about Brick,” Carly said with a mischievous grin, “I’ve known him for twenty-plus years.”

      Lisa was severely tempted. A dozen unanswered questions came to mind. She told herself it was normal. After all, she’d been involved with Brick for months, and there was so much she had wanted to know about him.

      Before. Not now.

      She stifled the urge to ask, and instead mustered a smile. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass this time.”

      Brick overheard Lisa’s response and didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. He fought the overwhelming instinct to stuff Lisa in his car and drive back to Chattanooga. It was tough to explain why, even to himself, but he thought it had something to do with wanting to keep her to himself.

      Selfish as hell, he acknowledged, but it didn’t change the way he felt. He didn’t want anyone messing with his relationship with her. He snorted. Why should he worry about them making matters worse when he’d already made a mess of it himself?

      Brick dismissed the disturbing thoughts and snagged Lisa’s wrist. “C’mon. Let’s go throw a pie for charity. My old junior high school principal is the target, and I owe him.”

      Lisa stumbled after him. “Owe him for what?”

      “He stuck me in detention for my whole seventh grade year.”

      “And you didn’t deserve it at all?”

      Brick stopped and grinned sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

      “How little?”

      “It was just a few harmless pranks…involving a frog and the English teacher, a food fight in the cafeteria and…” He hesitated and his smile faded slightly. “And the homework I didn’t do.”

      “I can imagine the frog and the food fight, but my father would have killed me if I hadn’t done my homework.”

      Brick looked away, squinting his eyes under the glare of the sun. “Yeah, well, my dad wasn’t paying much attention, my mother had died and my stepmother was a witch.”

      The breeze picked up a strand of his sun-lightened hair, and Lisa felt a clutch in her chest. “Sounds rough,” she murmured.

      He shrugged his wide shoulders. “You don’t want to hear about that, so—”

      “But I do,” she said impulsively, then bit her tongue. “I mean, I enjoy hearing about your childhood. You haven’t really talked about it much before.”

      He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her knuckles in a mesmerizing motion. “It wasn’t all happy, Lisa, and the time you and I had together was happy and good. Being with you was too special. I didn’t want to drag it down.”

      She felt that same clutch again and swallowed hard. “Now that we’re friends,” she said in an effort to remind both herself and him, “maybe you won’t feel like you’re dragging anything down.”

      He lifted an eyebrow and glanced meaningfully at her lips. “We’ll see.”

      He tugged her toward the pie booth, and Lisa surreptitiously wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. It felt as if he’d put his mouth there, against hers.

      “You wanna go first?” he asked as he paid the attendant a few bucks.

      “I don’t know.” Lisa looked doubtfully at the principal’s friendly face behind the cutout cardboard. “I was never good at throwing things, or catching them for that matter,” she said under her breath.

      “Then let me help you.” Brick gave Lisa a pie and positioned himself directly behind her. He wrapped one hand around her waist and meshed the front of his body with the back of hers. His chest rubbed against her back, the heat of his belly nearly scorching her skin, and his masculinity was deliciously pressed against her buttocks.

      Lisa nearly dropped the pie.

      “Whoa!” Brick caught it and reinforced her grip on it with his hand.

      He stood so close that his familiar scent and the thud of his heart seemed to invade her body. He had a musky scent that she associated with sex and satisfaction. It was the closest she’d come to this kind of intimacy in weeks, and Lord help her, her breasts were tightening beneath the knit shirt she wore.

      “I’m not sure—” She tried for a normal tone.

      “C’mon.

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