Finish What We Started (3 page)

The waitress arrived with Lee’s beer just as the PR woman returned and gave the model a card, shook her hand, then left, leaving his brother alone with her. Again.

The Pirate Booty girl stood quickly and scanned the room, presumably for her friends, who were already lost in the crowd. Lee enjoyed the view. Her ass was magnificent peeking out of those ridiculous shorts. Her legs were about five miles long.

Her blonde hair fell past the middle of her back in thick, heavy curls. Even in the dim light, the shine was visible. He would bet a million dollars that if he was close enough to see them, her eyes would be blue. Tall, blonde and blue-eyed. She could be cast in a movie about a Viking princess.

One who apparently thought his dumb-ass brother was a riot.

Mark gathered up the collection of papers she had on the table and the two of them came back to Lee’s table. Lee got up from his stool.

“This guy is my brother, Lee. Lee, this is Candace Claesson, the new reigning Pirate Booty Babe.”

Candace stuck out her hand. “Hi. Mark has been telling me all about you.”

Yeah, he was definitely kicking Mark’s ass later. Her hand was warm and soft, but she had a firm grip. “I’m certain that can’t be good.”

“Oh ye of little faith, bro,” Mark said with a grin, then turned to Candace. “I’m starving. Do you want anything to eat?”

Lee noted hesitation flash across her face, before she nodded. “Yeah, actually I’m starving, too.”

Lee had been contemplating ditching the bar for real food only minutes before. “Me, too. Whatcha thinkin’?”

Mark screwed up his chin and frowned. “Eh, this place has decent nachos. They use a lean tri-tip, usually cooked to a nice medium, and a decent blend of cheeses.”

The look on Candace’s face was a mixture of confusion and wonder. Lee had to laugh. “That sounds good, man. Off you go.” Then he turned to the lady and leaned into her to explain. “He’s a foodie. Been to culinary school and everything. Eating is his favorite topic.”

“Oh.” She chuckled.

Lee indicated she should sit and then he followed suit on the stool next to her. He wanted to quiz her on what Mark said, but he didn’t intend to undermine his brother’s play if he was making ground with her. “Congratulations,” he yelled instead.

“Oh thanks.” She nodded with a half smirk. “...ridiculous...never...made me, so there you go.”

He only caught a couple of words of what she said, the noise from the bar was so damn loud, but he loved watching her say it. She had a very expressive face, and he’d been right about the blue eyes. At one point in her story, her eyes grew wide and then she tossed her head and smiled.

“Where are your friends?”

She gave a dismissive wave and grimaced. “Julie...Megan home...drunk.” She touched the stack of papers with the Black Sam logo. “Paperwork...Sam people. Now...stuck...brothers...get me.”

He nodded like an idiot. Would it be weird to offer to drive her home? Surely she wouldn’t get in a truck with a stranger she’d met in a bar full of losers. “Do you do a lot of modeling?”

“What?” She tilted her head to the side, offering him her ear without breaking eye contact.

Lee took the opportunity to lean in and talk cheek to cheek, only a few inches of air between them. “Do you do a lot of modeling?”

“Oh no.” Candace rolled her eyes, and she was gorgeous even when she did that. Little puffs of her breath touched his face as she talked. “I gave that up a long time ago. This was a one-off, believe me. If it weren’t for the prize money, they’d have never conned me into it.”

“What do you plan to do with the money, then?” Lee could make ten grand vanish in a heartbeat. Start-up costs were high, even in construction.

“Vet school is mind-numbingly expensive.”

“Oh wow,” he said and raised his eyebrows. “Vet school.”

They talked that way for several minutes, shoulder to shoulder, cheek to cheek. She spoke about becoming a doctor. He casually mentioned his construction company, though there wasn’t much to share yet. Her smile was beautiful and he found himself coming up with one-liners just to see it happen again.

Mark eventually returned with the nachos and bottles of ale for everyone. The three of them pantomimed conversation while they nibbled. Lee made every effort not to stare at her when she licked her fingers, or when the beer bottle kissed her lips. Candace checked her phone repeatedly but it didn’t seem that what she was looking for ever appeared there. The bar thinned out, yet the three of them stayed, talking and laughing.

She was funny and obviously smart, considering that she was well on her way to being a doctor.

When the bartender yelled for last call, Candace checked her phone again, then frowned.

“Are you all right?” Mark asked her.

“You don’t have a ride home, do you?” Lee concentrated on her expression while she scanned her messages for the zillionth time. “I’m happy to give you one. A ride.”

She shoved her phone in her purse. “I should call a cab.”

“Really,” Lee assured her. “That’s not necessary. I’m happy to do it.”

“Well...” She looked like she wanted to agree.

“Text someone my name and license plate.” Lee raised his hands up, palms out. “No touching, I promise.”

“Go with Lee,” Mark told her with his friendly grin. “Unless you want to go on my motorcycle.”

Candace shook her head. “I’m not a motorcycle kinda girl.”

Mark extended his hand to her. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Congratulations again.” Once her head was turned, he gave Lee a comical grin and stuck out his tongue. “Drive safe.”

Lee helped her gather her papers and waited while she adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. He fist-bumped his brother. “Later, man.”

He followed the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen in person out of the crap hole college bar and carefully kept his gaze on her hair, although the lower view was tempting. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and he’d absolutely meant every syllable when he said there would be no touching.

* * *

Lee led her to an old blue pickup.

Candace had only hesitated for a second when he had offered to drive her home. She’d texted all three of her older brothers and not one of them had texted her back. God only knew what they were doing all night, but whatever it was, it wasn’t rescuing her. She didn’t even bother to try her younger brothers. Cary was probably drunk at some frat party, and Calvin was probably grounded with no car privileges. That’s where Cal usually was, anyway.

She was kidding herself. She wanted to spend some more time with this guy to see where it led. He was funny, charming and interesting, and she was more intrigued than she’d been in a long, long time.

“All in?” Lee asked then closed the door on his truck leaving her alone in the cab as he made his way around to the driver’s side.

That was why she’d accepted his offer of a ride. She really could’ve gotten a cab, but he and his brother had been unfailingly polite. Of course, that’s what they’d said about Ted Bundy, too, but she usually had very good instincts about this sort of thing. Neither of them had made any reference to her being beautiful and that carried a lot of weight where she was concerned. Nothing turned her off faster than some guy gushing about her face or her hair or her body before he even bothered to learn her name. She’d already had a lifetime of that by the time she’d hit puberty.

“Head over to campus. I live nearby.”

He fired up the truck and headed in the right direction. “So who was it you were hoping would text you tonight? A boyfriend?”

“One of my brothers. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I didn’t hear from any of them.” The truck was dusty inside and there was a hammer on the floor.

“Any?” he asked, and adjusted down the air conditioning. It was still plenty warm out, even this late at night. “How many is any?”

“I only tried three of them.”

At the stop light, Lee turned to her. “Three? Are you telling me there are more than three? Are they vicious sorts, these three brothers?”

She thought of her brothers, Clay, Casey, Cliff, Cary and Calvin. Bossy, controlling and unmanageable, yes, but not vicious. “Hardly. Unless you’re planning something nefarious. Then all bets are off.”

“Nope. This is a simple drop-off procedure,” he told her. “We’ll see how you behave yourself. Maybe I’ll ask for your number, but I don’t plan to do it in a nefarious way.

She tried not to make it obvious that she was looking at him. When they shook hands, his hand engulfed hers. Thick fingers and rough palms. A working man’s hands. The three-quarter sleeves of his baseball jersey left off just below his elbow, revealing ropey muscles and thick wrists. He was tan, but he’d said he worked construction, so of course he was. His hair was magnificent—probably not a word he would appreciate, but she couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. Inky black, wavy and impossibly thick. She knew girls who would kill for his hair. His eyebrows were the same, dense black slashes across his forehead. Eyelashes to die for framed brilliant green eyes. On any other man, those eyes might have been considered pretty.

Lee’s brother had been cute in a big kid kind of way. Lee was the type of masculine that made her girl parts attentive.

“That’s good to know.” Megan’s shorts were killing her. All night they’d been too tight and now they were riding up in the most inconvenient way. She wished she could slip her finger under the leg and adjust her panties, but she didn’t how to do it without being obvious. She wiggled a little. The silk was trying to cut her in half.

“You okay over there?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She’d been caught. How freaking embarrassing. Just what every woman wanted to have happen when alone with a hot guy. “Actually no. These shorts are killing me.”

“At risk of sounding nefarious, I’ll tell you they’re killing me too.”

She laughed. “They’re not mine.” When he took his eyes from the road to toss her a quizzical look, she explained, “Remember my drunk friend? These are her shorts. She left with my jeans on.”

“Why are you wearing her shorts? Not that I have a problem with that.”

“Remember how I said they entered me in the contest? It was all part of their evil plan. They made me give up my jeans for Meg’s shorts. You know, to showcase the booty in Booty Girl.” She felt like an idiot explaining this to him.

“Obviously an excellent plan.” He turned left and kept his eyes on the road.

“Yeah, well, now they’re making every effort to cut me in half.”

He choked out a laugh. “What’s your oldest brother’s name?”

“Clay.”

“Would Clay kick my ass if I suggested that you could remove them as, you know, a lifesaving measure?

“Clay is a jerk like that.”

“Better not, then. Instead, I’ll promise to close my eyes while you correct some things down there.”

“You’re driving.”

“Best be quick, then.” He made a big show of putting his hand over his eyes.

She hiked up her hips and fixed the wedgie. “Done. You can look now.”

He turned and looked at her through a major gap in his fingers. “I was peeking at the road the whole time.”

“I won’t tell Clay.”

“Hey, here’s a plan. How about you have Clay beat up Mark? That way I don’t have to.” They pulled to a stop at another red light.

“Why are you beating up Mark?” If they had a relationship anything like her own brothers did, then they were probably whacking each other all the time for no damn reason.

He propped his elbow on the back of the seat and turned towards her while they waited. “For whatever he told you tonight.”

She raised her eyebrows and gave him a knowing grin. “That’s exactly what he said you’d say.”

Those black slashes of eyebrow came together on his forehead. “What do you mean?”

“He came up to my table when the PR person left and introduced himself to me. He said that he wasn’t there to hit on me. Instead he was only there to piss off his brother. He promised that if I talked with him for a few minutes it would make you crazy.”

The look he gave her had fifty-seven layers of meaning. “Are you kidding me?”

She laughed. “No.”

“What else did he say?”

She waved her hand in a vague way. “You know, brother stuff.” Mark had also told her that while his brother was reserved, he was also a great guy. When she’d turned to see who Mark was talking about, Lee had been glaring at his brother with intent malice, but it had melted away the minute he’d caught her looking at him. His half smile had been charming and sheepish, not calculating. Not like almost every other male in the bar that night. She and Mark had settled into an easy conversation that had absolutely nothing to do with the contest, her looks, or his desire for her. Instead, he’d told her about Lee. How they’d won their baseball game that day, and they’d come to the bar to celebrate. He said Lee had hit a homerun and two triples. He casually mentioned that his brother had never done time, voted in elections—even the stupid ones for city council—and had recently purchased Adventure Girl cookies from the local troop in order to show that he believed in women’s rights and approved of cookies.

The light turned green and Lee redirected his attention to the road. “Interesting.” From the way he said it, she was pretty sure Mark was about to be in serious trouble.

“Your brother is an outstanding wingman, you know.”

“I’ll bet.”

Candace laughed. “So which are your favorite cookies?”

If the bizarre segue caught him off guard, he didn’t show it. “Why do I need a favorite? I believe in equal opportunity when it comes to cookies.”

“I don’t like the mint ones.” She tossed it out there just to see what he’d say. Everyone liked those. It was a law or something.

He grinned at her. “More for me, then.”

He asked her about her classes, which ones were her favorites, and what made her want to be a veterinarian. He paid attention to her answers and asked intelligent follow up questions. He was never presumptuous or superficial. Other than the flirty banter about her shorts situation, he’d not made a single lewd or suggestive comment.

They arrived at her apartment building much too soon.