Chapter 11—Lighting the Lamp

The next morning, Amelia nursed her third cup of coffee and waited for Brick to rise and shine. He wasn’t a morning person. After too many glasses of wine last night, her head had a pulse, and her body was sluggish. Since it was Saturday, Macy didn’t have school and was currently sitting cross-legged in front of the coffee table drawing pictures of indistinguishable figures and shapes. Art obviously wasn’t her forte.

She’d approach Brick this morning about a live-in nanny job, a conversation she wasn’t looking forward to, but a necessary evil unless she wanted to stay in her car starting tomorrow. Living here signed her fate, but right now she was short on options and long on problems. She wanted to shake some sense into her brother, but she knew him too well. He’d have to learn the hard way. Considering her emotionally fatal attraction to Brick, so would she.

Brick shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes before 10:00 a.m. He was dressed in low-slung athletic shorts. He yawned, scratched his chest, and leaned a hip against the counter. Amelia’s eyes were drawn to the trail of dark hair on his chest. Her already-fuzzy head spun, and her heart rate kicked up a notch. She put a hand on the counter to steady herself. Brick raised a brow but made no comment.

“You should put on a shirt.” She jerked her head toward Macy in the living room.

A slow, sexy grin slid across his face, and he rubbed his short beard. “I don’t think Macy is the real issue.”

He knew her too well.

Amelia ducked her head and turned her back on him. She couldn’t stop staring at Brick’s shredded body without salivating. He took pity on her and disappeared for a minute, returning with a tank top covering those pecs and abs. Such a shame, but a necessary one.

“Better?” He smirked and yawned again, crossing to the fridge to pour a glass of milk, which he guzzled. He set the empty glass on the counter.

“Dishwasher.”

Brick groaned but did as he was told. A second later, his hot breath feathered across the back of her neck as he peered over her shoulder. If her head had a pulse, her heart had its own marching band. God, she would never survive a day living with him before she was in his bed and under his body.

“Something smells good.” His voice dropped a sexy octave, indicating he wasn’t referring to the food.

“I-I’m making breakfast for us. Wa-want some?”

“Fuck, yeah.” His tongue slid along her jaw. She shivered and slipped to the side, needing to get away from him and his delectable body. Leveling him with a chastising glare, she pointed toward Macy.

“Oops. Sorry.” He didn’t appear sorry. His dark eyes shone with mirth and something far more sensual. He hazarded a glance toward Macy. “Good morning,” he said huskily.

“Hi.” Macy didn’t look up from her drawing.

Brick frowned, meeting Amelia’s gaze. He rubbed the back of his neck and stretched, covering up his distress, but she’d caught that telltale flicker of sadness in those brown eyes.

“You need to spend more time with her. You’re a stranger, and kids know when they’re in the way and not wanted.”

Brick snatched up a towel and wiped his face. He sucked in a breath and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t like his shortcomings pointed out so bluntly. Well, the truth hurt, and for Macy’s sake she refused to sugarcoat it.

The three of them ate in a tense silence. When Brick finished, he pushed back his chair. “I’m going for a walk down by the water.”

“Can I go?” Macy asked shyly.

Brick’s brows shot upward, and his mouth fell open. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. How about you, Amelia?”

“Sure, it’s a decent day out there.” She should’ve subjected him to Macy alone, but she wasn’t ready to do that to Macy yet. Brick needed guidance, and she didn’t trust him to watch the child properly when they were outside, especially near water. If she was being honest with herself, her reasons were probably far more selfish. She wanted to spend time with him, and with Macy.

Brick waited while they put on coats. He wore his shorts and now a tight black T-shirt.

“It’s fifty-five degrees out there.” Amelia pointed to his lack of proper clothing, wishing he’d covered up that body more for her sake.

“Perfect weather for me. If you haven’t noticed, my body runs about twenty degrees warmer than average.”

“Then why did you ever choose goalie as your position considering you wear the heaviest pads?”

“That’s a question for the ages.”

Amelia had to laugh. So typical Brick. Together they walked outside and down the block to the street that ran along the lake. Macy skipped ahead on the sidewalk, making Amelia nervous.

“Calm down. She’ll be fine.”

“What if she runs out in traffic?”

“Macy, this way,” Brick called to his daughter, and guided Amelia off the street toward a walkway along the water between a row of houses and docks lined with quaint houseboats. It was a different world down here, as if they weren’t in the middle of the city but in a picturesque seaside town. Seagulls called out to each other as they circled the water in search of breakfast.

Macy did a U-turn and skipped ahead of them.

“Is this better than being near traffic?” he asked.

“A little. Macy, don’t go too far. And stay away from the water.”

“Okay,” Macy yelled over her shoulder as she streaked toward the dock.

“Oh God, what if she falls in?”

Brick snorted. “She’s fine. Let her be a kid. Are you this bad with your day care kids?”

“Yes.” Amelia swallowed a lump in her throat. She’d never see those kids again.

“Did I say something wrong?”

She shrugged, and he was silent for a few minutes.

“What happened with your brother? I never heard the outcome of that story.”

“It’s not a story, Brick. It’s life. Real, honest-to-fuck life.”

“Watch your language.” His mouth twitched at one corner. He sat on a bench and pulled Amelia down next to him while Macy galloped her imaginary horse around a small grassy space near one of the docks.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted so strongly. I’m just so frustrated with him.”

“I take it your talk didn’t go well.”

“He’s not kicking his cheating wife out. Instead, he kicked me out. I have until tomorrow to get my stuff out of there.”

“The fuckhead. I’m really sorry he can’t pull his head out of his ass. I never liked Ruby from the second I met her.”

“No one does but him. Love is blind.”

“I doubt it’s love that’s blind.”

So did she. Her brother couldn’t see beyond Ruby’s physical assets, or see through her countless manipulations to keep him under her thumb.

“Where will you go?” he asked.

“I was going to talk to you about that.”

“Me?” His innocent expression was anything but innocent, more like conniving. She could almost see those wheels turning as he calculated all the ways her misfortune might be his fortune.

“Yeah, is that nanny job still open?”

“Nope, I just hired someone.” He leaned back on the bench and laced his fingers behind his head, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Oh.” She tried to conceal her dismay, even as panic grew inside her.

“She’s perfect. Macy has really taken a shine to her, and so have I. Maybe too much so for both of us, but I’ve never given much of a shit about doing the smart thing. I go with my gut.”

“I’m glad you found someone Macy gets along with.” Amelia’s raspy voice sounded as if she’d swallowed a hockey puck and it’d stuck about halfway down her throat.

“Sure did.” He grinned at her, giving her the distinct impression she was missing the punch line of a joke, and the joke was on her.

“I’ll miss her,” she said.

“Hardly.” He winked at her.

“Are you sane?”

“Fuck no, but that’s part of my charm.” He leaned back against the bench, watching Macy race tirelessly around the small green space. “When do you want to start? Would today work?”

“What?”

“I hired you, babe.”

She wanted to smack him, or maybe hug him, or even better, hug and smack him.

“Can you start tonight? I have a thing I need to go to.”

“A thing?”

“Uh, yeah, a thing.”

She guessed he had a date, which should be fine with her. His love life was none of her business as long as he didn’t bring women home in droves and expose them to Macy. His little girl needed stability, not a constant parade of witless women who only wanted one thing and sure as hell didn’t want a kid in the mix.

“I can start right now, after we negotiate my salary and days off.”

His slow smile sucked her in like cat hair into a vacuum. “I see.” He named a figure, which was three times what she made at the day care.

“I guess that’ll do.”

“You want more?”

“No, that’s fine. I want two days off a week, depending on your travel schedule. If I have to work on my day off, I want overtime.”

He held out his big hand. “Deal.”

She grasped his hand to shake it, but he held it up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “This could be a mutually beneficial situation all the way around, babe.”

“Quit calling me that. And the only benefit you’ll get is knowing your daughter is well cared for.”

“So you say. I can be very persuasive. And I’ve been thinking a lot about making sure you’re well cared for.”

“Well, keep thinking about it, because that’s all you’re getting.” She smiled sweetly at him and extracted her hand from his warm one. The guy was seriously hot-blooded. In fact, probably too hot-blooded for her own good. And now she’d be living under his roof and attempting to resist him every single day of her life. She was nuts. One hundred percent nuts. Life had a funny way of putting her in tough situations and forcing her to be strong. She’d be strong or she’d be stupid. She wouldn’t be able to have it both ways.

“Why?” He frowned, his brow wrinkling in confusion, as if he didn’t get it.

“Why? Because I’m working for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Having a fling with you might cause problems and make it difficult for me to work for you.”

“Why?”

She rolled her eyes. Could he really be this clueless?

“It’s just sex. Consider it recreation. No different than if I asked you to go running or to work out at the gym.”

Amelia did not want to have this conversation. “I don’t do casual sex very well.”

“I could help you get over that.” He winked at her and wagged his eyebrows, making her laugh despite her irritation.

“I’m sure you’d like to try. I’d like to keep things simple. Sex makes them messy.”

“Sex is messy.”

“Brick, you know what I mean. Let’s stay friends. In the meantime, Vi’s interested and available.”

His expression turned blank for a moment as if he couldn’t recall who Vi was. “Oh, Ms. Pink?”

“Yes, her.”

“Hmmm.” He scratched his chin and stood abruptly. “Let’s take a walk on the dock.” He whistled to Macy and waved at her to follow them.

“She’s not a dog.”

“I know that.” He cast an annoyed sideways glance in her direction, almost as if he were insulted.

Together the three of them walked down the wide dock, which ran between rows of tightly packed houseboats. Brick glanced from side to side, taking in the houseboats with an eagle eye.

“You’re really serious about getting a houseboat, aren’t you?”

“Serious as a heart attack.” He glanced at her. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“You still don’t strike me as the houseboat type.”

“You don’t know me well enough to know what type I am, but we could fix that.” His heavy-lidded smirk promised all kinds of ways they could get to know each other. Despite her irritation, her lady parts tingled with anticipation. Her breath hitched, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. He read her perfectly. He put his hand up to her throat, spreading his fingers across her neck, and lowered his mouth. She should turn away, deflect the kiss, but she wanted it too much to resist. Her lips parted, and her eyes fluttered closed. His lips met hers, and nothing could’ve prepared her for the tender emotions curling inside her chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself up to his kiss.

He kissed her with the passion of a starving man who’d been waiting for this moment all his life, and she met that passion. Moving closer to him, she placed one hand on his chest and splayed her fingers, grasping a handful of his shirt. His tongue mated with hers in a dance older than the glaciers on Mount Rainier. Amelia leaned into him, completely in the moment.

He broke off the kiss, and she whimpered. For a moment, he stared down at her with an unfathomable expression, giving her the distinct impression she’d rocked his world as much as he’d rocked hers. His hand shook as he tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Brick.” She moved toward him, wanting to be back in the circle of those protective arms.

“I want you, too, babe, but not in front of an impressionable child.” Brick’s dark gaze flickered to Macy, who’d stopped at the end of the dock in front of a two-story blue-and-white houseboat with a covered front porch and “For Sale” sign. She stared longingly at the quaint little house.

Amelia stifled her comeback as they approached Macy, while Brick sported a self-satisfied smirk.

“Mr. Brick, can we live in a house like this?” Macy cooed.

“You like this house?” He looked from Macy to the houseboat and back again. Holding up his camera, he took a picture of the “For Sale by Owner” sign.

“Yes!” She jumped up and down, causing the dock to sway, and giggled.

“I like it, too. A lot.” He chuckled and ruffled his daughter’s hair. Macy took a small step back, as if the spontaneously affectionate gesture had caught her off guard.

Brick’s jaw tightened, and he turned away from them, glancing at his watch. “I should get back. I need to get to the rink for a team meeting.”

Macy’s face fell, but she didn’t cry. Amelia shot him a disapproving glare, and he winced. Father and daughter were finally making progress, and the dumbshit chickened out.

“Can we do something fun tonight?” Macy asked him. She’d never asked for his time before.

“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t sound overly enthusiastic or committed, but Amelia would take his response as a win.

 

* * * *

 

Brick couldn’t get that kiss out of his mind. He didn’t hear one word of the team meeting. Instead he daydreamed about how those lips felt on his over and over. He’d intended to kiss her to show himself her kiss wouldn’t be different than it was with any other woman. She was nothing more than another conquest and one more notch on his hockey stick. His heart obviously didn’t get the memo. Her lips felt like silky rose petals, unlike any kiss he’d ever tasted before. The power of that one kiss had buckled his knees and shocked his heart into arrhythmia. She’d robbed him of his breath and made him forget his name, but not hers. He definitely remembered her name.

He was beginning to wonder if what he was feeling went beyond sex. He wouldn’t know, because for him it’d always been about sex, sex, and more sex. Oh, he wanted sex with her in the worst way. But he wanted more than that. He just didn’t understand what those wants might entail. He was a fucking virgin when it came to relationships.

Is this what falling for someone felt like? This overwhelming need to see her, to spend time with her, talk to her, touch her? Just be with her?

Hell if he knew, but he was going to find out.

As if coming out of a trance, Brick glanced around, realizing the meeting was over and his teammates were filing from the room. He stood quickly, avoiding the coach in case he might ask a question Brick couldn’t begin to answer.

Rush caught up with him, matching him stride for stride. “A bunch of the guys are going to Gib’s later. He’s throwing a big party. Then ve’ll hit some clubs. Are you coming?” Rush glanced over his shoulder, making sure the team captain and all-around tight-ass, Cooper Black, wasn’t lurking in the shadows to thwart their plans.

“Absolutely.” Brick paused, then he remembered. “Ah, crap. I promised to do something with Macy tonight.”

“It’s Saturday night. You can take her to the family skate tomorrow.”

“I’m not going,” Brick answered automatically. He’d never liked those things. They’d always been too tame for his blood. They didn’t serve alcohol, and there weren’t any puck bunnies present.

“You never go out anymore. Not even on road trips,” Rush complained, looking as if he’d lost his best comrade. In some ways, he had. As much as Brick had promised himself he wouldn’t let fatherhood change him, it had, despite his best efforts to squelch any semblance of growing up and taking responsibility for life beyond a hockey net.

“You’re sounding like a whiny old lady,” Brick said.

“Better sounding like one than being one.”

Brick bristled. The truth hurt. He’d been a homebody lately, and he hated the thought of that. He’d lose all his friends if he kept this up, find himself alone with no one for company but himself, which sounded like a fate worse than death by slow torture.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he answered before he could talk himself out of it.

“We’re leaving about seven. Be at my house.”

“I’ll be there.”

Amelia was going to be pissed. They’d made plans to go bowling.

But she didn’t control his life. He could do as he pleased.

Even if doing so made him feel like ten kinds of dickhead.

 

* * * *

 

Brick made another decision—this time, the right one. He wasn’t going. He was sticking to the plans he’d made earlier in the day. If he didn’t show at Rush’s house, his buddy would leave without him, or so he assumed.

The ring of the doorbell interrupted their dinner and blew Brick’s assumption all to shit. Dread settled in his stomach. He didn’t move, willing them to go away.

The pounding started. He could hear multiple voices. Brick groaned. They weren’t going away. They were right here, pounding on his door. He was knee-deep in dog shit.

“Are you going to answer the door before they tear it down?” Amelia’s puzzled expression hardened with suspicion. She was onto him, and he was screwed.

She pushed past him and threw open the door. Rush, Drew, and Hot Rod stumbled forward in a tangle of legs and arms. Already well on their way to a drunken evening. They were all talking at once, but Brick understood them.

“Hey, man, let’s go,” Rush bellowed impatiently. The rest shouted their agreement.

“Go where?” Amelia turned on him like a cobra striking a wary rabbit. “Where are you going?”

Macy stood nearby, Simone dangling from her fingers. Her face was impassive.

“We’re going to a party, Amms.” Rush swayed a little and hiccupped.

“It seems like you’ve already been partying.” Amelia’s face pinched with annoyance. Her accusatory glare hit Brick right in the chest, knocking the air out of him. “You’re not going.”

The guys hooted with laughter, and he heard the words “pussy-whipped” several times. He fucking wasn’t pussy-whipped, and by God he’d show them he wasn’t. Besides, he needed this. He’d been a good boy, but a man could only be good for so long before he exploded. He needed a night out with the guys to forget his responsibilities and his nanny and regain his balance. He needed balance in his life. His wings had been clipped, and he wanted to fly again. He had his moment of domesticity; now he needed to prove to himself he was still in charge of his life.

Brick turned to Amelia. “I’m sorry. I’m going out with the guys. Don’t wait up.”

Amelia lifted her chin and her nostrils flared. He was going to pay for this. He spun around and grabbed his coat, heading out the door before she could lay a guilt trip on him. He felt a tug on his coat and turned.

“You promised.” Macy stared up at him. Her brown eyes luminous.

His throat constricted, and he swallowed hard. Before he could do something unmanly in front of the guys, he had to get to fuck out of here. “We’ll do it another time.”

“I don’t believe you,” she muttered, and turned her back on him.

He wavered on the verge of changing his mind when Hot Rod and Drew grabbed his arms and hauled him toward the door.

“There’s a family skate tomorrow. Want to go to that?” Rush asked Macy. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Brick shot his best “you’re in deep shit” glare at Rush.

“Yes.” Macy grinned, suddenly happy. Amelia, on the other hand, didn’t look so happy. He got the hell out of there while he still had his balls intact.

As the night wore on, he realized Amelia hadn’t needed to put a guilt trip on him. He was doing fine on his own. Which pissed him off. He was a grown man and answered to no one. Not Macy and not Amelia. The more guilt flooded him, the more he rebelled, and the more he drank. He pounded back straight shot after straight shot.

His stepmother had tried to control him, constantly criticizing him, tearing down his confidence, unfavorably comparing him to her perfect son until he became exactly what she’d said he was. A worthless party boy with booze for brains. She’d been wrong about one thing—he had made it in the NHL, to her dismay.

Maybe he’d overreacted to Amelia telling him what to do, but it’d been like he had seen red and couldn’t help himself. Now he was miserable and wishing he’d stayed home.

Women came out of the woodwork to proposition the guys, and they hung all over Brick. He choked on the scent of their overbearing perfume and recoiled from the feel of their fake breasts rubbing against his arm. One particularly persistent blonde with tiger-striped hair stuck her tongue in his ear and ran her hand up his thigh. She cupped his crotch in her hand, squeezing way too hard.

“Ouch,” he protested, and yanked her hand from his crotch.

“You’re quite the wuss for such a macho guy.” She laughed and leaned on him. As drunk as she was, she needed his body to prop her up.

“Don’t damage the package.” Irritation cut jaggedly through his worn-thin patience. Usually he was a laid-back guy who welcomed any and all female attention.

What the hell was wrong with him?

One fucking kiss did not ruin a man for any other woman. He’d been kissed plenty, and he’d never dwelled on a kiss. He’d been celibate too long and been too consumed with personal shit. This had to stop. He didn’t worry about anything but hockey. He didn’t concern himself with anything off the ice. He lived life as it came to him, always ignoring the bad and reveling in the good.

But it hadn’t been just any kiss.

The anonymous woman’s hand drifted back to his crotch. His dick shriveled, announcing its lack of interest. The tigress wasn’t deterred. She probably thought he had problems getting it up. A month ago he’d have been appalled any woman might think that. Now he didn’t give a shit.

Her mouth moved over his neck, across his jawbone and cheek to glom onto his mouth. He turned away, repulsed. He grabbed her hand and held it away from his body. She took his gesture as a good sign rather than as the self-preservation that it was.

Abruptly, Brick stood and gently pushed the woman away. He turned to his friends, holding the back of the chair to steady himself as a gravity storm hit him full force. The woman snuggled next to him, assuming they were going somewhere private together.

“I’m out of here,” he told his buddies. A few made rude remarks; most were occupied with their own collection of admirers, Rush especially. The Russian attracted women like bees to honey and fully embraced “the more the merrier.”

As Brick once had.

He threw a wad of bills on the table, called for a taxi, and headed for the door. The tigress hurried along behind him as fast as her deadly spiked heels would allow.

He stepped outside into the cool, crisp air and breathed it in. She was kissing his neck again.

“Stop.” The harshness in his tone sank into her pickled brain, and she backed off a few steps. He lowered his voice. “Look, I’m sorry, but you’re not going home with me tonight. I’m not feeling great, and I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“I could make you feel better.” Her hopeful expression tweaked something inside him. This plastic, made-up woman was some guy’s precious daughter. He’d probably nurtured her, rocked her to sleep, watched endless dance recitals, and threatened her prom date with bodily harm. Yet Brick treated her and all the women in his life as if they were no more than playthings. The worst part was they were happy to let him. He didn’t want this for any daughter of his.

And he had a daughter. One who was a complete stranger and one he hadn’t gotten to know, hadn’t even wanted to know. One he was hoping to pawn off on his parents within a month. She was still innocent and not warped by life despite all it’d thrown at her in her young years.

He didn’t want this—any of this. Only this time the this he referred to was the empty, endless partying and nameless women who were used and discarded, forgotten as soon as he left their beds.

No man dared treat his daughter as he’d treated women. He’d see to it she had more self-respect than that.

He faced the woman standing on the curb. “Honey, go find a guy who will care about you. You don’t need this crap. None of us do.”

She gaped at him as if he’d turned into bigfoot and threatened to have her for his next meal. Blinking several times, she staggered backward. His taxi pulled up to the curb.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?”

She shook her head. “I have friends inside, asshole. I don’t need your help.” Without another word, she spun on a lethal heel and stomped off.

Brick shrugged, got in the cab, and went home. By the time he got there, it was 5:00 a.m.

 

* * * *

 

Amelia couldn’t sleep, so she spent her waking hours plotting Brick’s slow and painful demise. Rush may have saved the day by inviting Macy to the team’s family skate, but that didn’t rescue Brick from her lynch mob of one. In fact, she’d hang him even higher, and with a new rope. A nice scratchy one that hadn’t been broken in yet.

She got tired of watching TV and started pacing about 4:00 a.m. and made a cup of coffee at five.

Shortly after, she heard the click of the door lock, and the front door opened and closed. Brick peeked around the corner, squinting into the harsh kitchen light. He clung to the wall, his eyes unfocused and his face ruddy. He was wasted drunk, and she was spitting mad.

She leisurely poured them both a cup of coffee, lulling him into a false sense of security, and invited him to join her on the deck. The cool air would do him some good. He gladly complied and followed her outside. As he weaved toward the glass doors, his coffee sloshed over the sides of his cup and left a trail from the kitchen to the door.

He fell into one of the lawn chairs and gulped the hot coffee while he gripped the sides of the chair.

“Spinning?”

“Yeah.”

Amelia stood, wanting a tactical advantage. “You, Mr. Bricker, are an asshole of the highest degree.”

“Huh?” He stared up at her, not comprehending.

“Yes, you. You broke that little girl’s heart, and don’t think for one damn minute that Rush’s invitation got you off the hook. It did not.”

Brick shot to his feet and stalked toward her, surprisingly steady. He backed her right up against the railing. His hot body pressed against hers, and he anchored his hands on either side of her.

She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she gazed up at him in alarm. Only he didn’t look angry, he looked—

Hot?

Amorous?

Ready to jump her bones?

She grabbed his arms, and he growled. A pure male growl vibrating from deep within his chest.

“I want you,” he rasped.

Amelia shook her head, struck mute by too many conflicting emotions.

“I turned down a hottie who was practically climbing inside my jeans ’cause I couldn’t stop thinking about that fucking kiss. What guy does that?”

She couldn’t answer. He’d been obsessing about their kiss. Welcome to the horny and unsatisfied club, Martin Bricker.

“Well, not this guy. That’s for guys who stick with one woman. I’m not that type of guy.”

“And what type of guy are you? The type who makes promises to his daughter and doesn’t keep them?”

He winced. She’d hit her mark. He narrowed his eyes, a predator sizing up his prey. A slow smirk spread across his face.

“I’m the type of guy who gets what he wants. And I want you.”

Before she could utter one word of resistance, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. She expected a bruising, passionate kiss. Instead, his lips were soft, pliant, and cajoling. Their other kiss had been filled with raw need and naked passion. This one was so much more. As if the alcohol had laid bare emotions he didn’t even acknowledge. His tongue deftly slid inside her mouth, searching, seeking, exploring with gentle sweeps and slides across her tongue.

He kissed her like a man who cared. Not like a man who only wanted her body, but like a man who wanted her soul.

It had to be the alcohol talking.

Whatever the reason, Amelia’s resistance blew a tire and stalled out on the roadside, leaving her body to hitchhike a ride with this man wherever he might take her.

She brought her hands up to his head and raked her fingernails along his rough cheeks and the short hairs on his jaw. His facial hair was something between a five-o’clock shadow and a beard. She liked it. A lot. It made his boyish good looks a little darker and older. Made him a little more dangerous. She could imagine it scratching the insides of her thighs as he slipped his tongue inside her heated core, much as he was doing now to her mouth.

She did love dangerous, gorgeous men. She’d married one, after all. A marriage that lasted two months. Amelia had been the love of Darrell’s life—until she wasn’t anymore. He’d taught her a hard lesson, which she was paying tuition on.

And that lesson she’d learned?

Perhaps she hadn’t learned it all that well, judging by the good-looking player who was currently pushing up her shirt and unhooking her bra.

She should stop him.

But she didn’t want to any more than she’d wanted to stop Darrell all those years ago.

Brick could break her heart. And he could break that little girl’s heart. Her first responsibility was to Macy. She forced herself to recall how he’d bailed on them tonight with barely a second thought. Yet dredging up anger toward him became increasingly difficult as he unhooked her bra and lowered his mouth to a tight pink nipple.

She groaned as he flicked his tongue across the hard peak. Her body arched into his, pressing against his mouth.

“I want you.” His muffled voice was barely intelligible as he switched to the other nipple and rasped his tongue across it. She shuddered in delight and wrapped one leg around his thigh.

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth.

She dug her fingers into his muscled shoulders.

He raised his head and kissed her again, harder this time, more demanding. “I want inside you.”

Amelia tried to come up with arguments against sleeping with him. Her mind remained blissfully mute on the subject. Her body was anything but mute. She rubbed her hips against him, grinding against the unmistakable bulge pressing against his fly.

She couldn’t say no to this man. He’d dominated her fantasies for way too long.

“I want a glass of water.” The little-girl voice behind them caused Brick to freeze, while Amelia jumped free of him. She pulled down her shirt and faced Macy.

“Sure, honey, wait for me in the kitchen.”

The girl’s eagle eyes glanced from one to the other. Silently, she turned and padded back inside.

Amelia couldn’t help glancing at Brick. He leaned against the railing, way too nonchalant, considering a few more minutes and they would have been humping like rabbits on the deck of his condo for Macy and all of Lake Union to see. Knowing Brick, Lake Union residents had probably seen it before. His chest rose and fell, and his gaze was hooded, but she could see his pulse throbbing in his neck. He wasn’t as casual as he wanted her to think. She’d gotten to him.

“Get her a glass of water and get your fine ass back here.”

She shook her head. “Bad idea. This entire thing was a bad idea. Good night.”

His eyes darkened and narrowed.

Amelia retreated to the temporary safety of the condo, gave Macy her water, and put her to bed. She sneaked like a thief to her own room and locked the door.

She needed to be strong.

Somehow.

Someway.

Or did she?