challenge. And then said, softly, “What are you afraid of?”
Now the only way she was going to show him she wasn’t the least bit afraid of what had just happened between them was if she said yes. If she protested this idea too strenuously, he might know the truth: she was terrified of him and his ability to tear her safe little world so far apart she might never succeed in putting it back together.
But she had to admit there was something wonderfully seductive about saving face. It really was horrible to be branded as pathetic in a small town.
“Well, Brand,” she said slowly, thoughtfully, “maybe we could have a little fake fling, under carefully orchestrated circumstances, of course.”
“And let me guess,” he said wryly, “you will be in charge of orchestrating the circumstances?”
If she was going to do this, and she had a sinking feeling that she was, she had to maintain absolute control over the situation.
He watched her, some challenge lighting the sapphire depths of his eyes until they sparkled like falling stars in a night sky. It was a look that could take away a woman’s courage. It could intimidate. It could shake her belief that she could be in control of everything. Or anything.
If she allowed it to, that was, if she hadn’t just vowed in front of her own burning dreams she was going to be a different kind of woman from now on.
The take-charge kind.
“How long are you going to be here, Brand?” she asked, keeping her voice all business.
“Maybe a month. I’ve got a lot of leave built up.”
“A month?” his father sputtered, and then sent Hilde an aggrieved look that Sophie easily interpreted as his son’s presence in his life cramping his romantic ambitions.
Brand’s eyes narrowed on his father for a moment, then he glanced at Hilde.
Hilde, naturally, looked unabashedly delighted at Brand’s announcement of a longterm stay in Sugar Maple Grove. It was written all over her face that she was already planning Brand and Sophie’s wedding.
And an adorable little house filled with babies. She hoped Hilde wouldn’t say it, not even in German. Because her grandmother was known to say anything, commenting on Brand’s kissing abilities being a case in point. What kind of grandmother did that?
Sophie slid Brand a look. The full force of his attention was back on her. Well, there was no denying he was a good kisser and would produce perfect babies. But if she wanted to stay in control of the perilous situation she was moving herself toward, she’d better not go there!
“What are you going to do here for a month?” Dr. Sheridan asked sulkily. “You’ll be bored in three days. Ha. Maybe in three hours.”
Once, Sophie knew, Brand would have risen to the bait, argued whether what his father said was true or not, and it probably was. He had been hotheaded, impulsive, impatient.
Now, there was something new in him, something coolly disciplined that made him both harder to read and more intriguing.
Brand just shrugged and said, “It’ll probably take me a month to fix everything in your house that is broken.”
She looked between the two men, and saw it wasn’t just the house that needed fixing.
Sophie could feel her head starting to ache. Those Sheridan men were probably going to need her help to navigate the minefield between them.
Great. She was going to have to do that while never letting Brand know how that kiss had rattled her world. How him sitting beside her on a sleepy Sunday morning made her feel aware and alive.
But, she reminded herself, this was exactly what she needed. To prove to herself she wasn’t fifteen anymore, the mere whiff of him enough to make her waste her life dreaming of happily-ever-afters. No, she was all grown up now and immune to his charm, considerable as that was.
Once she did that, longing for things that didn’t exist wouldn’t have the power to ruin her life anymore.
She could be a realist, dismiss that longing for something. It wouldn’t be there, like a villain waiting in the wings, ready to rain disaster on her well-planned future and life.
But she knew she was playing with fire. Because that something was exactly what she had tasted on his lips.
Walk into it, girl, she ordered herself. If you want to play with fire, walk straight into the flame. There would be nothing like a dose of reality to kill her fantasies forever.
“Well, Brand,” she said, taking that mental leap off Blue Rock, “since you’re going to be here, you might as well help me out. It’s true, this whole town thinks I’m pining away for my ex-fiancé, Gregg, who is about to become officially engaged to someone else.”
“Are you?” he asked softly.
“Of course not!” But she could feel a blush rising up her neck as she said it, and she could see she had not convinced him.
She took a deep breath, walked straight into the fire. “So, I’ll accept your offer. Yes, you can pretend to be my beau.”
It was like falling straight off a cliff. And no one hated heights more than she did!
“Beau?” he said, and then laughed. “Who uses a word like that in this day and age? I think you’ve been spending just a little too much time at the Historical Society, Sweet Pea.”
“You are every bit as annoying as I remember!” she said, exasperated. It was hard enough for her to keep her dignity while accepting his offer.
“You never thought I was annoying,” he said with the silky and aggravating confidence of a man who, unfortunately, women did not find annoying. Ever.
“Remember the time you said you were going to the library and I gave you my books to return and you didn’t?”
“I wasn’t really going to the library,” he said.
“Whatever. Annoying. Six dollars in fines.”
“Your only brush with the law?”
She ignored him. “And how about the time you showed up at my door with a kitten two minutes before I was supposed to be leaving for band camp?”
“You loved that kitten,” he said, with a grin.
She had. The gift had melted her.
“That’s not the point. The point is that I was late for band camp, and so I didn’t get the instrument I wanted, and I had to play the tuba for a whole week and it was your fault.”
“Band camp is for nerds.”
“My point exactly,” she said, triumphantly. “You are annoying! Supremely! You will have to try and keep that in check as we conduct our—” She couldn’t bring herself to say romance. “—arrangement.”
“Do you still play the tuba?” he asked sweetly.
