Authors: Tawny Weber
Leaving? The thought was like a jagged knife ripping through her gut. She hated thinking about life without Brody.
“He’s going to Coronado four times a week for physical therapy now, so I’d imagine he’ll be back to full use of his leg before the end of the month.” She gave Macy a big smile all the brighter for being fake. “So he should be back on duty in two weeks.”
A smart girl would start steeling her heart against the end. A smarter girl would cut things off now, before her emotions got tangled any tighter.
Genna was smart.
Damned smart.
Smart enough to know that she was already in too deep. She had been for years. She was smart enough to know that nothing was going to make the heartbreak of Brody leaving any easier to take. So she was going to get every second of pleasure, of fun and of anything else she could from these couple of weeks together.
And she didn’t care if it took her thirteen of her fourteen days. At some point before he left to play hero again, she was getting him naked and naughty.
Right on cue, the doorbell rang.
“Don’t you have something to print?” she asked, hurrying around her friend and heading for the stairs. “Go ahead, take your time. Lock up when you leave.”
Never one to take a hint, Macy followed her right down the stairs and stood there like a grumpy rain cloud, waiting for Genna to open the door.
Trying to ignore her, Genna tossed her coat over the hall bench, took a deep breath, put on a big smile and opened the door.
And almost melted as the chilly evening air washed over her. Oh, he looked good. Black slacks and dress shirt suited his bad-boy image and fit to perfection. So used to seeing him in jeans or sweats and a tee, she had to swallow a couple of times to keep from drooling.
“Hi,” she finally said.
“Hey. You look nice.” His tone was light and friendly, but his eyes were hot as they swept over her body, leaving the kind of tingles that led to tight nipples, damp panties and, hopefully, multiple orgasms.
Yes. Genna wanted to do a happy dance right there in the doorway. Finally, he was looking at her as something other than a friendly cookie machine.
Maybe they could skip dinner and get right to dessert.
The loud cough behind her burst the sexual bubble as effectively as an icy cold blast from the hose.
Brody looked over her shoulder. She followed his gaze and sighed.
“Brody, this is my friend Macy. She was just leaving,” Genna said pointedly.
“Hi,” Brody offered with a polite nod.
Looking distant, as if she were holding her breath in case he was carrying a bad case of cooties, Macy gave a jerky nod.
Brody glanced at Genna, who just rolled her eyes and gestured him inside.
“You look great,” she said as the door closed behind him. Her fingers itched to straighten his collar, to feel the fabric of his shirt and see if it was as soft as it looked. “I didn’t realize you had fancy clothes with you.”
“I stopped by barracks after physical therapy today.”
Brody shifted from foot to foot, almost as if he’d rather be in front of a firing squad. Whether that preference was over what he was wearing, his visit to his barracks or this evening’s plans was up in the air.
“You sure you want to go into San Diego? We can eat someplace here in town instead. That way you don’t have to drive,” he said, referring to the fact that while he’d come back on his Harley after his last physical therapy session, he didn’t have a car.
Nope. Dinner in San Diego was more romantic. A drive would give them time to talk. And if they stayed here, people would see. Then they’d talk. Her father would hear and things would get ugly. Worse, her mother would hear and head straight for the hospital.
“Good question. You should eat in town. I hear Ziapatta’s is serving lasagna tonight,” Macy broke in. Stepping forward, she started reciting the menu as if her life—or Genna’s virtue—depended on convincing Brody to eat there.
Genna scowled. The woman couldn’t say hello, but she saw a chance to ruin the night and she turned into a chatterbox.
“We have reservations,” Genna interrupted smoothly. “And I don’t want Italian food.”
She wanted her date, dammit.
“Good night, Macy,” she said emphatically.
As huffs went, Macy was a champion. Muttering warnings the whole way, she skirted around them to yank open the front door, then stormed down the walk.
Genna grimaced at the scowl her friend threw over her shoulder before climbing into her car.
“I’ll bet she’s on the phone by the end of the street,” she predicted, letting the door slam shut with a satisfying bang.
“Gossip?” Brody guessed.
“Tattling.”
He glanced out the window at the departing car, then arched a brow her way.
“To whom about what?”
“To my parents about us,” Genna said, heading over to grab her purse and coat off the bench.
She didn’t make it far.
Two steps and she was stopped by Brody’s hand on her arm.
“Hold up a sec. So let me get this straight. Your friend is going to run to your mommy and daddy and stir up trouble when she tells them that you’re hanging out with me?”
Genna frowned for a second at his use of hanging out instead of dating. He was working hard to keep that wall between them. Or maybe it wasn’t hard work on his part and he really did only think of her as someone to hang out with while he was stuck in town.
Then, taking a deep breath to shake that off because she was sure she’d change his mind eventually, she focused on his question. And the irritation on his face.
“Totally obnoxious, right? I know she’s my best friend, and she really is a sweetie. But she’s always doing stuff like this. She thinks she knows best, and just has to interfere.”
Genna started to move toward the bench and her coat again, but Brody didn’t let go of her arm.
“What?” she asked.
His irritation had settled into a scowl.
“Tell me something. Other than your friend, does anyone know you’re hanging out with me?”
Again with the hanging out? Genna huffed, then shrugged. He let go this time, but shifted so his arms were crossed and his legs wide. She had the feeling that even if she did get her coat, she wasn’t getting past him to open the front door.
“I don’t know,” she said, throwing both her hands in the air. “I suppose your gramma knows. And people have seen us together, right?”
At her corner grocery store. The little café on the edge of town. The movie theater matinee. Nobody who knew and might report back to her parents. But that was beside the point. They were still people.
“You ashamed?”
He said it so matter-of-factly, with no inflection at all, that it took a few seconds for the implication of his words to sink in.
“Of course I’m not ashamed to be
hanging out
with you,” she protested, ignoring the guilty little tickle in the back of her throat at the words.
He didn’t look convinced. In fact, if Genna didn’t know better, she’d think he was a little hurt. But Brody didn’t care about things like approval. And, despite the fact that they were playing this
let’s be friends
game of his, she doubted her opinion registered in his world.
“Yeah? But you’re worried about your friend ratting you out. Worried enough about word getting around that you only wanna be seen with me if we’re out of town.” Brody pulled a contemplative face and rocked back on his heels, then gave a decisive nod. “Yep. You’re ashamed.”
Genna’s jaw dropped in a shocked gasp. She took a step backward, but figured pressing one hand to her heart might be overkill. He wasn’t buying it anyway. Brody was still giving her that pitying look, as if she’d just admitted to sleeping with his photo cut from a high school yearbook under her pillow. Which she hadn’t done for at least nine years.
“Oh, and you’re one to talk,” she tossed back. “If it hadn’t been for my father warning you to stay away from me, you’d never have come over.”
He just stared, no expression in those gold eyes. Damn that SEAL training of his. So Genna pushed harder.
“What’s the difference? Isn’t you being with me your own form of rebellion? A way to give the finger to the guy who shipped you off ten years ago?”
Well, that changed his expression. Right from casual suspicion to icy distance.
Oops. Maybe she’d pushed a little too far.
“I’m your rebellion?”
Genna winced. Leave it to him to home in on that one particular statement. Couldn’t he focus on the insult instead? It’d be a lot easier to smooth that over.
“Aren’t we going to dinner?” she asked in her brightest, let’s-change-the-subject tone. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get on the road, and I’m starving already.”
His expression didn’t shift.
“I don’t think you’re doing it right,” he mused, his slow contemplative tone at odds with the cold look in his eyes. “If you want to rebel, you throw your actions in people’s faces. You don’t hide your bad side away hoping nobody will notice.”
You did if you were afraid of their reaction. Genna pressed her lips together to keep that confession to herself.
“Then, by your own definition, I’m not rebelling,” she pointed out with a teasing smile, hoping to charm him out of pursuing this conversation. “And we’ve already established that I’m not ashamed of being seen with you. So why are we wasting time talking about this? Especially since chitchat is right up there with wearing pink on your list of manly things to do.”
“Because I don’t like being played.”
This was getting ridiculous. Genna took a couple of deep breaths, trying to push away the edges of panic that were pressing down on her. She was so close to her dream. So close to having something—maybe not a relationship, but something—with Brody. And now it was shattering so fast she couldn’t even see where the pieces were flying.
“I’m not playing you. I’m not ashamed of you.” She shifted, lifting her chin and giving him a direct look filled with all the sincerity she had. “And I’m not using you to rebel.”
“Right.”
There was so much sarcasm in that single word that Genna was tempted to look at the floor to see if it was dripping on her feet. What was his problem?
“Don’t you think you’re blowing this out of proportion? I just said that Macy was a tattletale.”
“Exactly. C’mon, Genna,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re all grown up and still living under your parents’ thumbs. What better way to wiggle out than to piss them off by dating the guy they blame for introducing their princess to the dark side?”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly. “Are you trying to pick a fight? If you didn’t want to go to dinner, all you had to do was say so. Friends don’t hurt friends, Brody.”
* * *
D
IRECT
HIT
.
Brody grimaced at the baffled pain in Genna’s eyes.
Why was he doing this?
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks to keep his fists from finding a wall to pound on. He had so much anger broiling inside him, but it wasn’t aimed at her.
He didn’t give a damn if she was rebelling. Hell, she deserved to. Her parents were manipulative assbites who were ruining her life with their fears.
It made no difference to him if she hid their relationship, either. She was the one who was going to have to live with the talk after he was gone, not him.
As she said. Friends didn’t hurt friends.
But Brody was a lousy friend. Just ask Carter.
“I should go,” he decided.
“No,” she said quickly. “What is going on? I thought we were going to dinner. I thought we were friends. So either feed me or talk to me, but you aren’t leaving until you do one or the other.”
She was so damned cute when she got feisty. Brody couldn’t help but smile a little. Actually, she was so damned cute all the time, feisty or not. And sexy. Fascinating, entertaining, fun.
His smile fell away.
Maybe that was part of the problem.
He’d thought they could be friends. He hadn’t been able to resist spending time with her, and had thought he could control the intense attraction he felt for her. That he could channel it into making up for some of the lousy deal she’d gotten after he’d left.
But he felt as if he’d signed up for a torture project. Days spent talking and joking. Watching her bake, listening to her dreams. Nights spent hard and horny, diving into dreams so hot he thought the bed was on fire. He was a man used to pushing through the pain, well trained to overcome his body’s weaknesses. Except, apparently, the ones Genna inspired.
“Look,” he said, taking a deep breath and hoping for some semblance of tact and diplomacy. “This friendship thing, it was a mistake.”
Her eyes widened, surprise and hurt flashing. Then, with a sweep of her lashes, her expression changed. Intensified. It sent an itch down Brody’s spine.
“We’re not going to be friends anymore?” she asked in a calm, friendly tone. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was saying the right words, he’d have figured she hadn’t understood him.
As soon as he nodded, she gave him a brilliant smile and tossed off her coat. It hit the floor with a swoosh just as she reached behind her back. The move was quickly accompanied by the sound of a zipper. And Brody’s hiss.
“What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?” he asked, hoping like hell it wasn’t what he thought she was doing.
“Seducing you.”
Damn.
That’s what he’d been afraid of.
Brody’s breath was a little labored, but he tried to reel in his reaction. This wasn’t happening, he warned his dick. No point getting ready for a party they weren’t gonna attend.
His dick, always ready to party, ignored him and hardened rock-solid anyway.
“Genna—” he started to say.
But she interrupted before he could figure out the rest of his protest.
“I figure this is part one of a two-part solution to our problem,” she said. “You were trying to pretend we’re just friends. Except we aren’t. We might be building a friendship. But what we are is crazy attracted to each other. So part one is to act on that attraction once and for all. The total act, with you naked. I’m willing to be on top if you’re still holding on to that friendship myth of yours. That way you can tell yourself I took advantage.”