Authors: Catherine Mulvany
“
I was afraid Cameron would go after Lindsey if I said anything.
”
She shook her head.
“
I never told a soul until tonight. I thought you deserved an explanation because
—”
She sighed, a hopeless sound.
“
I can
’
t make love with you, Brody. No matter how much I want to, I just can
’
t.
”
Brody felt weak, as if he were suffering acute blood loss. Like somebody
’
d just cut the heart from his chest.
“
It doesn
’
t have to be that way, Mallory.
”
She laid a hand on his.
“
I wish I could believe you. But I know better. You know better. I flinch whenever a man touches me.
”
“
That
’
s not true. I
’
m touching you now.
”
“
You know the kind of touching I mean.
”
He knew, the kind that had landed him flat on his back on the entry deck.
“
Brody, believe me, it won
’
t work. Thanks to my past, I
’
m terminally frigid. I wish things could be different, but I know they never will be, and I like you too much to lie to you.
”
“
Maybe if we take it slowly
—”
She shook her head.
“
You
’
re wasting your time, Brody. You deserve better.
”
Dammit. So did she.
Mallory
’
s appraisal of her own sexuality was way off base. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. Hadn
’
t he felt her response more than once? She just needed a little coaxing and a lot of reassurance. Hell, there was a world of difference between the forcible rape of a child and the gentle seduction of a woman. Eventually she would realize the truth.
Mallory couldn
’
t tell what Brody was thinking. He hadn
’
t said a word in the last five minutes. Sighing softly, she glanced sideways at him, but his face told her nothing. He was probably fighting a losing battle with revulsion. Talk about shooting herself in the foot.
“
Are you sure you wouldn
’
t like something to drink?
”
“
Not tonight.
”
Brody stood up.
“
I should be going anyway.
”
Mallory smiled at him uncertainly.
“
Thanks. Thanks for everything.
”
“
Yeah.
”
Brody nudged her glasses into place.
“
See you.
”
She watched him walk to his Jeep. No good-bye kiss. She wasn
’
t sure if that was good or bad. Had he given up on her? Did she want him to give up on her? She closed and locked the door behind him, then leaned against the sturdy oak panels, her arms crossed.
Brody Hunter. She
’
d never met anyone who made her feel the way he did. If only she weren
’
t such a screwed-up mess.
Sighing, she headed for the bathroom. A shower and then bed, she decided with a yawn. It had been an exhausting day.
The hot water revived her. Wrapping herself in a towel, she wandered into the kitchen. Her emotional purge had left her with a raging case of the munchies. Unfortunately, she hadn
’
t been to the grocery store in a while and there wasn
’
t much to choose from. A bowl of cornflakes maybe? She checked the refrigerator. Only a trickle of milk, so forget that bright idea.
Fruit? All she found were two black bananas. Gingerly, she transferred their pungent corpses to the garbage.
Suddenly she froze at an unaccustomed sound, her fingers clutching the top edge of her towel. What was that noise? Not the purr of the refrigerator or the hum of the freezer. Not the furnace fan. Not the computer.
She scanned the kitchen. Nothing. The sound didn
’
t originate in the living room, either. And it wasn
’
t coming from either of the guest rooms. Which left only one possibility
—
her bedroom.
She paused outside the door, listening intently. Bingo. The noise, which sounded a bit like static, was definitely coming from behind her bedroom door. But she still didn
’
t have a clue as to its source. Had she left the radio on? The TV?
The hinges squealed a protest as she eased the door open.
Someone
’
s sleeping in my bed
. The line from
“
The Three Bears
”
popped into her head.
She poked the supine snorer in the ribs.
“
Evan Corby! What is going on? How did you get in here?
”
He snorted and blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before propping himself on his elbows.
“
Mallory?
”
“
Who
’
d you expect? Baby Bear?
”
“
Baby Bear?
”
He blinked again and sat up straighter. For once his hair was rumpled, his clothing wrinkled.
“
What are you doing here, Evan?
”
He brushed a hand back across his hair and the stray locks fell into place as if by magic.
“
Waiting for you.
”
He checked his watch.
“
It
’
s after two. Where have you been?
”
“
Home for the last hour, not that it
’
s any of your business.
”
She frowned.
“
What are you doing here? Shouldn
’
t you be getting your beauty sleep for the wedding tomorrow?
”
“
What wedding? Your
sister
c”
He made it sound like an insult.
“
Your sister suddenly transformed from a completely reasonable human being into a raving lunatic. After you and Hunter left, she flipped out, started throwing things.
”
He grimaced.
“
Got me right in the chin with an ashtray. Ceramic. Weighed about five pounds.
”
“
I can
’
t believe Lindsey would make a scene like that in public. What did you do to set her off?
”
Mallory leaned against the door jamb, folding her arms across her chest.
A slight flush tinged Evan
’
s perfectly chiseled cheekbones.
“
I was explaining why you
’
d mistakenly assumed I was having an affair with that Hooterman woman, and in the process I happened to mention the fact that I
’
d accepted a job with KBRU. At a huge increase in salary, I might add. Silly me, I thought she
’
d be pleased.
”
Mallory raised an eyebrow.
“
She wasn
’
t?
”
“
She said I was a gutless wonder who was scared of the competition in a bigger market. She said I was more comfortable being a big fish in a little pond. She said I hadn
’
t even considered her preferences. She said what about
her
professional advancement? I said,
‘
What profession? You buy underwear for a department store. That
’
s not exactly brain surgery.
’
And then she threw the ashtray and said the wedding was off.
”
What an idiot, Mallory thought. He
’
d probably had this grand career move in the works for months now, but he hadn
’
t bothered to tell Lindsey. In fact, if he hadn
’
t been forced into it, he probably would have saved his news for the honeymoon.
By the way, darling, call the movers as soon as we get back to Portland. Did I mention that we
’
re moving back to Brunswick? What
’
s that? You say you prefer Portland? You say you enjoy your job? But honey, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You don
’
t expect me to turn down a dream job just because you have an unhealthy addiction to the Clackamas Mall. Be reasonable
.
She curled her lip in disgust.
“
Where
’
s Lindsey now?
”
He hung his head.
“
I don
’
t know. She took off in the Lexus, so I borrowed your mother
’
s car and went looking for her. I was hoping she
’
d come here.
”
“
Here?
”
“
She always comes running to her big sister when she
’
s upset.
”
“
Think back on the evening, Evan. She was royally ticked off with me even before she got mad at you. Under the circumstances, I don
’
t think she
’
s going to come to me for comfort.
”
“
Oh, right. I forgot.
”
Evan shoved aside the afghan he
’
d been sleeping beneath and stood up. He hadn
’
t bothered to remove his shoes, she noticed. She eyed the quilt, searching for traces of dirt.
Evan tucked his shirt in, straightened his tie, shrugged into the jacket he
’
d hung over the ladder-back chair next to the window, then shot a disapproving look her direction.
“
You know, you really ought to get dressed. It
’
s chilly in here.
”
She
’
d forgotten she was standing there in nothing but a towel. But dammit, this was her house, not his. She
’
d run around buck naked if she wanted to.
“
I waited across the street in the car until I froze out. Luckily, I remembered that key you leave under the flowerpot.
”
Luckily
. Oh, yeah. She was definitely going to have to move that key.
“
What took you so long getting home?
”
Had he always been such a whiner?
“
Brody and I took the scenic route.
”
She frowned.
“
Look, Evan, it
’
s late and I
’
m tired. Why don
’
t you go back to Mother and Daddy
’
s? I
’
m sure Linz has cooled off by now.
”
“
I don
’
t think so. She was really steamed. She said she didn
’
t want to see me again. Ever.
”
“
Then get yourself a motel room.
”
“
I left my wallet in my other suit.
”
“
Then go wake up a friend. You can
’
t stay here.
”
“
Why not?
”
“
Because it
’
s my house, and I don
’
t want you here.
”
She turned and marched into the living room. Maybe if she could lure him out on the deck somehow, then slam and lock the door behind him
c
Evan trotted behind her like a faithful dog.
“
Mallory, please. For old times
’
sake. You owe me.
”
“
I
what?
”
She whirled to face him, her hands planted firmly on her hips.
“
You want to explain that? How do I owe you? What do I owe you?
”
He gave her that poor-whipped-puppy look that had suckered her every time back in the old days. She
’
d written him term papers because of that look. She
’
d run umpteen stupid errands because of that look. She
’
d even battled ring-around-the-collar because of that look. But the old days were history. Ancient history.