Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(50)

“No.” He laughed. “She did everything she could to protect me from my mother. But I’d catch pieces of conversations between Mom and Dad.” He glanced at her. “My aunt and uncle.”

“I know,” Sahara said gently. “And I understand. Though they might be your aunt and uncle by blood, they are your parents in every other way. I’m sorry I got confused. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t apologize.” He, better than anyone, knew how messed up it was. “It’s like a freaking Jerry Springer episode. My aunt is my mom, my mother is nothing at all...” Except a responsibility he didn’t want, a guilt trip he didn’t need.

“If that were true,” she said, “you’d refuse any contact with her.”

He shrugged that off, refusing to make too much of it. “I’d take pity on anyone. But the fact is, if I don’t help Becky, she’ll be back at Mom’s, expecting her to take care of everything.”

“So you’ll take care of her instead?”

Yes, but not for Becky’s sake. Brand took the exit from the highway, his tension mounting. “Don’t saint me, okay?”

“Oh, I would never do that.”

A reluctant laugh pushed away the frustration. “Got me more in the sinner category, huh?”

“You’ve got a bit of the devil in you, yes. But then so do I. Together we should have loads of fun, don’t you think?”

At the worst of times—like on a trip to see Becky—Sahara amused him. “You could be right.”

“Of course I am.” She glanced down at her shoes. “You know, it occurs to me after speaking with Ann, I probably should have changed clothes.”

“Why? You look great.”

“Yes, but your parents have so much property. I’d like to see the creek, and the tree house you and your dad built when you were ten, and—”

“Whoa.” What the hell? Had he totally zoned out while they were speaking? Apparently so. “Mom told you about that?”

She tipped her head. “About many things. Weren’t you listening?”

“Guess not.”

She jumped tracks, asking, “How far is Becky from your Mom’s?”

“Twenty minutes or so. We’ll head out after dinner, okay?”

“Whatever you want, Brand.”

The way she grinned gave him pause. Yes, Sahara amused him. She also kept him on a keen edge of lust. And when she smiled in that certain way, he had no idea what to expect...but he knew he had to be ready.

*

SAHARA LOVED EVERYTHING about Brand’s childhood home. Even while eating a truly delicious meat loaf dinner with homemade mashed potatoes, gravy, applesauce and green beans, she couldn’t stop looking around. Exposed ceiling beams ran the length of the living room/dining room combo, with rustic hardwood floors throughout. Mostly leather furniture in a buttery soft beige filled the room, with the exception of a cozy stuffed chair in a pretty multistriped pattern that she assumed Ann used.

Ann was a delight. She had Brand’s dark eyes, but her hair, in a cute sideswept style, was much lighter than his golden brown, almost blond, even. She wore very little makeup, but didn’t need it with her dark brows and lashes, and her clothing was as pretty and comfortable as her home. Jeans, a loose flowing top in rose and cowboy boots.

“This is delicious,” Sahara said for the third time, making Brand’s dad laugh.

“I love a girl who knows how to eat.”

“No problem there,” Sahara assured him. Holding a flaky biscuit, she gestured to the living room. “Do I assume that the amazing cook is also the talented decorator?”

Ann flushed with pleasure. “Oh stop. This old place is about comfort.”

“And style,” Sahara insisted. “Everything is perfectly balanced and coordinated, functional and beautiful. It takes a real gift to pull that off.”

Brand smiled at Ann. “She’s right.”

“Here now,” John said. “You two keep filling her head and she’ll get to thinking she’s too good for me.”

“Never that,” Ann promised, and she blew her husband a kiss.

Brand cast a look at Sahara. “Never mind them. To this day, they’re always flirting. At least with you here, I assume it’ll only be flirting and nothing more.”

Laughing, Ann swatted him. “Stop! What will she think of us?”

“I think you have a beautiful relationship, one to be envied.” Sahara smiled. “This is what a family should be. Thank you for allowing me to join you today.”

Brand sat back, a thoughtful expression on his face, and watched while his parents gushed at her. She saw cynicism in his small smile, as if he thought she’d just worked everyone.

It was true, she was good at winning people over, especially when dealing with prospective clients. But in this instance she hadn’t spoken a single insincere word, so she lifted her chin and ignored his scrutiny.

“Did you leave room for dessert?”

Brand answered his mother for her, saying, “She always has room for dessert, isn’t that right, Sahara?”

Was he baiting her? Let him. “Absolutely.” She stood when Ann did and began collecting the dishes.

“Oh no.” Ann tried to shoo her back to her seat. “You’re our guest. Please—”