The Wrong Man Page 19

  “You gave notice last month,” Daisy said. “I thought you moved out weeks ago.”

  “Spencer wouldn’t let me move in,” Daff said, and all eyes shifted to Spencer, who shrugged uncomfortably.

  “I thought we’d be setting a bad example for Charlie,” he muttered, and Charlie laughed.

  “Please, like I don’t know what sex is.”

  “Let’s pretend you don’t know what it is and leave it at that,” Mason said with a glower.

  “Hmm. Until you’re at least thirty-eight,” Spencer agreed, and Charlie rolled her eyes at them.

  “You’re moving out, Lia?” Millicent McGregor asked, bringing the conversation back to the topic that had interested Brand in the first place.

  “I thought it was a good idea,” Lia said uncomfortably.

  “Of course, I understand your desire to live your life without feeling like your parents are constantly monitoring your every move. Especially now that you have a gentleman friend that you’re calling on, but we’re going to miss you,” her mother said, and Sam suddenly understood where Lia got her sometimes quaint turns of phrase. Millicent had a delightfully old-fashioned way of wording things. The older woman’s actual meaning didn’t register until he saw Lia’s fiery blush.

  “Gentleman friend?” Daisy asked with wide eyes, her voice escalating on each syllable. “Lia! Have you been keeping secrets from me? Is it Gregory? Have things been going well with him?”

  “You know about that douche?” Daff asked incredulously.

  “Unlike some people at this table—Daff—Daisy actually listens when I speak,” Lia said self-consciously, still battling a fiery blush.

  “Why is he a douche?” Daisy asked. “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing,” Lia said softly.

  “Let’s just say we call him Gropey Gregory around these parts now,” Daff said with a frown. Lia looked so perfectly miserable that Sam had to curb the impulse to tell Daff to shut the fuck up about that prick Gregory. This was clearly not a topic Lia felt comfortable discussing right now.

  “What did he do?” Mason asked dangerously, and Spencer sat up and paid attention, too, both men clearly protective of all the McGregor women.

  “He won’t be bothering her again,” Sam felt compelled to say. It wasn’t their place to feel protective over Lia, especially not since the problem had pretty much been resolved already.

  The table went silent as all eyes flew to him. Wow, uncomfortable. Sam shifted slightly and cleared his throat. Not sure what to say beneath the weight of expectation in all those gazes. The only one not looking at him—still—was Lia. And that was driving him crazy.

  “Explain,” Mason demanded curtly, and Sam huffed an impatient breath.

  “I had a firm word with him.” Mason grinned at the explanation—Sam’s “firm word” was good enough for him.

  “But I don’t understand,” Mrs. McGregor said blankly. “If you and this Gregory aren’t getting serious, then where did you go last night?”

  Lia could feel her face flame, and she wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She didn’t want to lie to her family, especially not while they were all staring at her in avid interest and concern.

  “I . . . uh . . . I . . .”

  “I’m afraid I’m to blame for that, ma’am,” Brand said suddenly, and Lia’s eyes flew to his apologetic face in horror. “I was having some difficulty last night and couldn’t find my pain medication. I messaged Lia and asked if she knew where I’d put them. Turns out, she had them in her handbag. She was kind enough to bring them to me. I know it was late and I wouldn’t have asked her to come if I weren’t in pretty extreme discomfort.”

  Her mother looked mollified by his explanation, but everybody else, even Charlie, was glancing between Lia and Sam with varying degrees of skepticism and outright disbelief on their faces.

  “Why would you have his medication in the first place?” Daisy asked in confusion, and Lia patted nervously at her hair before replying.

  “Uh. I’ve been helping him out with some of his household chores and stuff. Just until his arm is out of the cast.”

  “I see,” Daisy said, even though she still looked completely confused. “I just thought Daff was going to lend a hand, because she’s closer.”

  “Daff got busy helping Spencer with the business, and since I’m often at loose ends, I thought I’d lend a hand.”

  “What do you mean, ‘often at loose ends’?” Sam surprised her by asking disbelievingly. “You’re the busiest person I know. You’re helping every single charity organization in town. I’m shocked you ever have a free moment to yourself.”

  “Right?” Daff agreed. “I told her they take advantage of her good nature. They just keep piling on the tasks and Lia seems completely incapable of saying no.”

  “I noticed that about her,” Brand said with a nod, and Lia frowned. Daff and Brand always seemed to find common ground over her shortcomings, which was getting a bit tedious.

  “I told her she should charge them for her services,” Daff said, and Brand snorted.

  “I’m quite capable of saying no,” Lia said levelly. “I just reserve it for people who annoy me, and right now that’s a pretty short list. When did you say you needed me to pick Charlie up from soccer practice again, Daff? I’m afraid something urgent has just come up on that day and I won’t be able to make it.”

  “You don’t even remember what day it is,” Daff spluttered.

  “I’m busy on all the days,” she said breezily. When Sam laughed, she pinned him with a glare. “Oh, and maybe you can fix your own breakfast tomorrow, Brand. I’m afraid I’ll be much too busy updating my Facebook settings at that time.” She shifted her gaze back to Daff before continuing, “I don’t only spend my time helping out charity organizations. Remember that next time you ask me to do you a ‘quick favor.’”

  She put her newfound glower to good use and deliberately dismissed them by turning to Daisy, who was grinning widely.

  “So would you be okay with me renting your house?”

  “Of course I’m fine with it,” Daisy said warmly. “Happy it’s staying in the family. So much better than renting to strangers.”

  “Thanks, Deedee,” she said.

  Sam watched as Lia pointedly continued to ignore both Daff and him. Her setdown of them had been both gentle and effective, and Sam would have high-fived her for the eloquent little barb if he hadn’t been one of the recipients of said slight. Still, he couldn’t help silently cheering her spirited response.

  He’d let her stew for now. Later, he’d take great pleasure in reminding her of the perks involved in preparing his breakfast.

  “When’s the cast coming off, Brand?” Mason asked, and Sam shrugged.

  “I’m going to Knysna next week to have this one removed and the arm X-rayed. They’ll probably recast it, but they’ll be able to tell me how much longer I’ll be stuck wearing this thing.”

  “Yeah, you must be missing the water, hey?” Mason said sympathetically, before elaborating for the rest of the room. “I swear to God, Brand’s part fish. Swimming, scuba diving, surfing, parasailing, paddleboarding, kayaking—anything on or in water, Brand has done it. Guy goes stir-crazy if he can’t swim a million laps a day.”

  “How did you manage in Afghanistan?” Daisy asked curiously, and Sam felt his skin grow tight at the memory.

  “Badly. I hated every second of it. I’m not cut out for all that sand. I would have preferred to be deployed to Bali, really. Or Bimini. Maybe the Seychelles.”

  His response got a laugh from everybody except Lia, who still looked a bit miffed at him. He sent her a cheeky little wink, and her eyes widened in horror. She immediately glanced around guiltily to see if anyone else had noticed. Nobody had, of course, Sam was a little more careful than that.

  Talk turned to more general topics after that, and breakfast ended soon after.

  “Brand, you want to join Spencer and me later?” Mason asked. “We’re heading out t
o the local watering hole for a catch-up and some drinks.”

  Sam cast a quick glance at Lia, gauging her reaction. She kept her face carefully averted and was talking to Charlie about something, but he knew she was listening to every word.

  “I think I’ll leave you two to do a bit of brotherly bonding,” he said. “I have plans to take my injured, pain-riddled ass to bed for a couple of hours.” Preferably not alone.

  “If you decide to join us, text me. We’ll be at Ralphie’s after seven tonight.”

  “Thanks,” Sam said with an appreciative grin.

  Still mad at me, sunshine? The text from Brand came while Lia, her sisters, her mother, and Charlie were discussing ideas for Daff and Spencer’s wedding. The couple hadn’t settled on a date yet, they just knew they wanted a spring wedding. Possibly in October. Daff wanted something low-key, without fuss or frills, which was pretty much in keeping with her personality. Considering that just six months ago she’d been adamant about never getting married, it was a pretty big step for her to even consider a wedding ceremony, so everybody was playing it cool, even though Lia knew her mother was dying for more fanfare.

  Lia, happy for a distraction from all this wedding talk, stared down at her phone for a moment before quickly typing a reply.

  Maybe. Not sure. She ignored the animated conversation and feminine laughter swirling around her as she waited for the response.

  Gutted. Does this mean I don’t get to play with your ( . Y . ) and (|) tonight? Lia choked back a laugh at the text and tried very hard not to blush.

  Maybe. Not sure, she replied.

  God, you’re brutal. Throw me a bone, sunshine. Just one little bone for my not so little boner. She clamped her lips between her teeth to prevent the smile but she knew she was fighting a losing battle. He was completely incorrigible.

  I’ll see you at seven.

  Can’t wait.

  “Lia, you’re the color of a ripe tomato. What’s going on?” Daisy asked curiously, and Lia practically jumped out of her skin. Unbelievably, she had completely forgotten the other women were there. She quickly lowered her phone, screen down, to her lap and smiled at Daisy while waving her free hand in front of her flushed face.

  “It’s just a little hot in here, that’s all,” she said, and they all gaped at her.

  “If you’re menopausal, maybe,” Daff said and glanced at her mother. “No offense, Mom.”

  Their mother snorted.

  “If you think I’m still menopausal, you’re deluded, my girl. I’m fifty-eight. I went through menopause four years ago.”

  “I wasn’t sure if it was still a sensitive subject or not,” Daff said, and the older woman laughed.

  “It was never a sensitive subject. Now, focus on the subject at hand, please. I’m definitely interested in knowing why your sister looks like someone who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.”

  “I’m just hot, that’s all,” Lia protested, while her cheeks brightened even more.

  “Why are you hiding your phone?” Charlie asked gleefully. Lia sent her a mock wounded look, which the girl completely ignored.

  “Why are you hiding your phone?” Daff repeated.

  “I’m not. I’m thirsty,” she prevaricated desperately, pushing herself up from the table and getting a bottle of juice from the refrigerator. “Anybody else want a drink?”

  “Oh my God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you full-on lie before,” Daff gasped, her eyes alive with unholy pleasure. “You’re terrible at it. Never do it again.”

  “Do you have a man friend you’re not telling us about?” Daisy asked astutely.

  “I’d rather not discuss this right now,” Lia said, pouring her orange juice into a glass and taking a thirsty gulp. The pulp made her cough, and she’d never been so grateful for that uncomfortable tickle in the back of her throat. Sometimes having her family so involved in her life could be trying, but she knew they only wanted her happiness after her failed engagement. She also knew none of them would approve of her involvement with Brand, because they knew as well as she did that it would never be anything more than it currently was. And they would worry she was setting herself up for more pain.

  They would all be filled with well-meaning advice and concern, but they wouldn’t be telling her anything she didn’t already know. Lia would rather they never knew about what was going on between her and Brand.

  “Lia—” Daff began, but Lia cut her off with a look. For once, Daff paid attention to the clear warning in Lia’s eyes, and her mouth snapped shut.

  “I’m not prepared to discuss this. Can we please focus on the wedding?” Daisy and Daff exchanged troubled looks, while Charlie just stared at Lia like she’d never seen her before. Her mother was staring, too, but her eyes were thoughtful, which made Lia feel incredibly uncomfortable.

  Daisy, bless her tactful soul, quickly adjusted the subject back to engagement parties and weddings, and Lia was left alone. But she knew this wouldn’t be the end of the matter. Her sisters were too persistent and stubborn for that.

  When she went around to the cabin just before seven that evening, it was to find the door unlocked and Brand nowhere in sight. She stood uncertainly in the living room for a moment before a god-awful racket alerted her to the fact that he was upstairs in the loft. She followed the unidentifiable noise until she found him lying flat on his back on a workout mat, with his hands folded over his flat, taut stomach and his eyes closed. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts and nothing else. His entire body gleamed with sweat, and Lia bit back a moan at the sight of all that honed, masculine strength. His injuries may have weakened him, but he was still a beautiful specimen of masculinity.

  She finally identified the source of the racket as singing. Brand’s singing, to be precise. He was wearing earbuds, which were attached to a tiny iPod that he had strapped around his left bicep, and he was singing along to . . . it kind of sounded like Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer.” Sam Brand had many talents, but singing was definitely not one of them. The man had a singing voice that would make dogs howl and small animals flee in terror. It was actually kind of cute how singularly terrible his voice was, especially since he was singing along with such gusto.

  Some sixth sense must have alerted him to her presence, because his eyes shot open abruptly and he stopped his caterwauling immediately upon spotting her. His face lit up with a huge welcoming grin and he leapt—well, okay, semileapt, and winced while he was doing it—to his feet.

  “Sunshine,” he greeted warmly, engulfing her in his arms and planting a smacking kiss on her lips. She laughingly pushed him off.

  “You’re sweaty and you smell,” she complained.

  “You don’t like my manly musk?” He sounded injured, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his tone of voice.

  “Go take a shower.”

  “Only if you join me,” he husked, grabbing a handful of her butt and lifting her to his straining crotch. She laughed helplessly.

  “Brand, there’ll be no hanky-panky in the shower while you’re wearing that cast. You’ll get it wet for sure.”

  “I don’t care, as long as I get you wet in the process.”

  “You’re absolutely irredeemable,” she said with a wry shake of her head. “Go get cleaned up. Have you eaten yet?”

  “Not since breakfast.”

  “You shouldn’t skip meals,” she fussed. “And why are you so sweaty anyway? What have you been doing?”

  “Working out. I need to rebuild my strength in order to keep up with you.”

  “Do you think it’s wise to go back to your exercise regimen so soon?”

  “It’s that or go fucking crazy. I needed to blow off some steam. I didn’t do anything too strenuous, just some stretches and core exercises. And it nearly kicked my arse, so I’m happy I got to it. Just shows how out of shape I’ve gotten.”

  “I just don’t think it’s wise.”

  “I have to get to it eventually. I’m not used to sitting around on m
y butt doing nothing all day.”

  “Maybe you should clear it with your doctor first,” Lia suggested.

  “It’s cute that you’re worried about me, sunshine. I didn’t think you cared.” They both went awkwardly silent after that cavalier statement, and Lia cleared her throat while trying to think of the best response.

  “Of course I care, I would hate to see you reinjure yourself and add to my workload,” she teased, and he winced theatrically.

  “Ouch,” he cried, clutching a hand to his chest. “You cut me, sunshine. You cut me deeper than any knife-wielding dickbag ever could.”

  Lia giggled, the sound ending on an embarrassing snort.

  “You’re such a drama queen. Go shower while I sort out your dinner.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want to join me?”

  “Quite.” He grinned at the concise answer before turning from her and deliberately pushing his gym shorts down past his hips and then over his tight butt. Lia couldn’t take her eyes off that firm behind as he stepped out of the shorts and cast a glance over his shoulder.

  “Pity, look at what you’re missing out on.” He turned so that his body was in profile to hers, showing off the thick, impressive erection that curved up toward his belly button. He reached down and gave it a couple of long, languorous strokes before meeting her eyes and giving her a wicked smile.

  “I’ll save it for you,” he promised, and Lia, her eyes glued to the movement of his hand, gulped and nodded.

  “You do that,” she squeaked, sounding a bit like Minnie Mouse. He chuckled knowingly before turning away and strolling unhurriedly into the bathroom. Only after he’d shut the door behind him and Lia exhaled on a shaky gasp did she realize that she’d been holding her breath.

  Wow, just wow. How was he so good at turning her on with so little effort? It was almost embarrassing. She shook herself, ignoring her beaded nipples and shaking legs, and made her way downstairs to make his dinner.