“I love you.”
Then waited for him to kiss her again. Instead, he stepped back from her and laughed. Called her a silly baby and walked away.
She learned her first lesson in heartbreak in that moment. Fourteen years old. In the woods with Nicholas Ryan.
She wasn’t about to repeat the lesson.
She pushed the memory away and decided to keep her second secret from Maggie. “There’s nothing going on,” Alexa repeated. “Can I listen to the next poem in peace, please?”
“I don’t think peace is in the cards tonight, babe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nick’s here. Your husband. The guy you’re not attracted to.”
She swung her head around and stared in shock at the figure in the doorway. He was obviously out of his element, but his presence was so confident, so overwhelmingly male, she sucked in her breath and realized the man had the power to fit in anywhere. And he wasn’t even wearing black.
Most men who wore designer clothes allowed the fabric to dictate to them. Nick wore his Calvin Klein jeans as if he wore nothing at all. The denim hugged his thighs and hips as if folding to his will. He reflected a man who knew himself—and didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought.
The turtleneck was a deep caramel cream in a thick cable knit stitch that emphasized his chest and stretched over broad shoulders. Definitely Ralph Lauren. The boots were Timberland. His hair picked up the color of the sweater, mixing with white blond and shades of mocha, carefully tousled. His jaw clenched with unconscious demand as he searched the darkened bookstore. But his eyes…
A swirl of chocolate brown the color of Hershey’s syrup. Hints of gold and amber that reminded her of aged whiskey. A combination that dripped of sinful sex and indulgent cravings. She waited as he perused the room, skated over her, stopped, then came slowly back.
Their eyes met.
Alexa hated clichés, and what she hated most was becoming one. But at that moment, her heartbeat thundered, her palms sweated, and her belly dipped and plunged as if on a rollercoaster ride. Her body went on full alert, begging him to come to her, promising him surrender. If he told her to go home, get in bed, and wait for him, Alexa was sure she’d follow his instructions.
The weakness of her will infuriated her. Her honesty made her admit she’d do it anyway.
“Oh yeah. Definitely no attraction there.” Maggie’s words broke the weird spell and allowed Alexa to gather her composure. She had issued the invitation to Nick for poetry night because he hadn’t seen her bookstore. He politely declined, citing work as an excuse, and she hadn’t been surprised. Once again, she had reminded herself they came from different worlds, and Nick had no desire to visit hers. As he walked toward her, she wondered why he had changed his mind.
…
Nick picked his way through the bookshelves. Some guy dressed in black spouted into a microphone about the correlation between flowers and death, and the scent of cafe mochas rose to his nostrils. Sounds of a flute and the faint calling of a wolf drifted to his ears. All of his impressions were secondary to the sight of his wife.
Ebony hair fell loose and wild past her shoulders. Her black-framed glasses actually enhanced the sky blue of her eyes, slightly widened with surprise as she watched him approach. Her sweater hugged every inch of those delectable br**sts, then opened to a wide bell around her hips. A tight black miniskirt stopped mid-thigh. At second glance, Nick revised his opinion to a much shorter option, since the fabric had snuck way up in her comfortable sitting position and now barely covered her. Knee-high black leather boots completed the outfit. Those long Amazon legs were encased in black tights and Nick knew she wore nothing else underneath. The stores didn’t make a slip that short, he was almost positive.
Her true sexiness lay in her ignorance of her effect on men. Aggravation tickled his nerves. He lived in a constant state of emotional turmoil and he hated every moment. He was the calmest man around and dedicated his path to avoid messy feelings. Now, his normal day ranged from annoyance to frustration to anger. She made him crazy with her whacko arguments and impassioned speeches. She also made him laugh. His home seemed more alive since she moved in.
He reached her. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
He directed his attention to his sister. “Maggie May, how goes it?”
“Fine, brother dearest. What brings you? You’re not going to read that poem you wrote when you were eight, are you?”
Alexa tilted her head in interest. “What poem?”
He actually felt himself flush and realized the two women before him were the only ones who ever made him lose his composure. “Don’t listen to her.”
“I thought you had work,” Alexa said.
He did. And he didn’t know why he was here. He had left the office and entered an empty house and the silence bothered him. He’d thought of her surrounded by people in the bookstore she created and wanted to join her world for just a little while. He said nothing, though, and shrugged. “I wrapped up early. Thought I’d check out poetry night. Do all artists smoke? There’s a long line outside and they’re all puffing away.”
Maggie snickered and stretched both of her legs out on the floor. Her back was propped up against the side of the chair. Her green eyes held the teasing light of a younger sister who still enjoyed torturing her older brother. “Still having cravings, Nick? Bet I could bum one for you.”
“Thanks. It’s always nice to have a family member as your drug pusher.”
Alexa gasped. “You smoke?”
Nick shook his head. “Used to. Quit years ago.”
“Yeah, but when he gets stressed or upset, he regresses. Do you believe he doesn’t think it counts as long as he doesn’t buy?”
Alexa chuckled. “This is very enlightening, guys. We need to get together more often. Tell me, Maggs, does your brother cheat at card games?”
“All the time.”
Nick reached down and snagged Alexa’s fingers, pulling her up from the chair. “Show me the rest of the store while this guy finishes up.”
Maggie chuckled and settled herself into the empty chair. “He’s just afraid of what I’ll tell you next.”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Nick led her away from the crowd. With an instinctive motion, he stopped in a shadowed corner by a sign entitled RELATIONSHIPS. He guided her so her back pressed against the bookshelf, then dropped her hand. Nick shifted his feet and cursed under his breath at his sudden uneasiness. He hadn’t planned what to say, just knew he had to break the tension between them before he got crazy and dragged her into his bed. Somehow, he needed to bring the relationship back to friendship. Back to older brother/younger sister camaraderie. Even if it killed him.