Remember Me. Laura Browning

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ was sure he’d never seen anything lovelier than Lucy wearing his Nationals sweatshirt and a pair of his boxers. With her long, golden hair hanging loose and the makeup scrubbed off her face, she looked as yummy as an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. And, damn, wouldn’t he just like to lick her all over. Instead, he was scrounging around in a fridge, pulling out cheese, Cokes, and then finding crackers in a cabinet over the mini-bar.

      “Mind sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace?”

      She grinned at him. “Not if you don’t mind me toasting my toes on the hearth.”

      He glanced at the toes in question. Hell, even her feet were sexy, slender and fine-boned, her toes painted a bright coral. They lounged in front of the fire, nibbling on cheese and crackers and sipping soft drinks. If anyone of his acquaintance had seen him right now, they would have laughed their asses off. Brandon Barlow-Barrett, known for his reputation as a flashy dresser and host, was entertaining a beautiful woman—admittedly, one dressed in his boxers and sweatshirt—while he lounged in a pair of flannel sleep pants and a t-shirt. After stroking a finger down her nose, he laughed, feeling freer than he had in a while.

      “What’s so funny?”

      “The fact I have a beautiful woman sitting in my suite while I’m on vacation, and we’re camped out in front of the fire eating cheese and crackers and drinking Cokes.”

      Lucy raised her brows. “You mean instead of being in your bed having wild monkey sex?”

      He laughed. “Well, yeah. And, you know, I think I like you in my clothes.”

      She picked at the sweatshirt with her thumb and forefinger. “This old thing?”

      He liked how she had relaxed. It made him feel better about being such an idiot earlier. “I like you having something against your skin that I’ve had against mine.” Her smile faded, and he continued in a soft tone, “That doesn’t freak you out, does it?”

      “No.” She touched his cheek. “It makes me feel…I don’t know…like I matter.”

      It was an odd comment because he got the feeling she wasn’t just talking about mattering to him. She meant mattering to anyone. As if there might be no one in the world who cared whether she existed or not. Brandon tucked her hair behind her ear. “You matter.”

      The atmosphere had gotten thick again, and he needed to ease the tension. Neither one of them were quite ready for the heat level between them. It was too much, too soon, and he needed to know her better—that is, if she would even talk to him tomorrow after the way he’d fucked up tonight. Picking up a piece of cheese, he slipped it between her lips. “Here. Eat more. In my official capacity as head of the Lucy Matters Club, I must make sure you eat enough.”

      She chewed and swallowed. “You’re different.”

      “My family says the same thing, most often with a great deal of exasperation.”

      Lucy shook her head. “No, I mean from other men who ask me out. You see me.”

      He arched a brow. “See you? What do you mean?”

      She shifted so she was sitting staring into the fire with her back half-turned toward him. “I mean, see more than the hair and the body. You see a person.”

      Brandon blinked, his chest aching at her tone. “I’m glad you feel that way because you would have every right to look at me like I’m just another shallow prick.”

      She angled her head so she could look at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were dark, assessing. “You are so far from that.” She grinned at him, crossing her legs Indian-style. “Tell me about your family. Are you from around the capital?”

      “Northern Virginia.” He didn’t want to go into detail about the estate, complete with butler. “My parents live out in the country. Only my youngest sister, Morgan, is at home anymore. She’s in college.”

      “You have more sisters?”

      “Two others, both younger. Also two brothers—one older, one younger. Six kids total. What about you?”

      Lucy shook her head. “I don’t have any family left. My parents died when I was very young and my grandmother raised me.”

      “And she died?”

      Lucy nodded, her gaze focused on the flames in the fireplace. “When I was twelve. She had a massive stroke. Although she didn’t die right away, it felt like it to me. She was gone from the house. And with her gone, I had to go too.”

      “Go where?” Brandon asked, but he already had some idea.

      “Foster homes. I was already in my second by the time Gram did die.”

      He wanted to offer comfort, something not in his nature, or it hadn’t been until now. Feeling a little off balance, Brandon stroked her hair away from the side of her neck, traced his finger from there to her shoulder and squeezed. “How many were there?”

      She glanced over her shoulder. “Too many. I learned to make myself almost invisible.”

      And he could read between the lines. Disappearing had been impossible. Brandon could imagine what she must have been like as a teenager. Beautiful and no doubt sheltered if she’d been raised by a grandmother, a perfect victim for any unscrupulous male. He cleared his throat. “Were you hurt?”

      She shook her head. “Not really. There were some who tried, but I managed to evade them. I spent all the time I could at school or the library studying. I wanted to go to college because the academics were the only thing I had going for me. I had to get loans, but I did it.”

      Brandon thought of his Ivy League education, paid for from the Barlow-Barrett coffers. “What did you major in?” Maybe he’d get an inkling of what she did for a living.

      “Art history. In fact, I have a masters degree. I guess it’s about as useful as a philosophy degree. But I’ve managed to make a living.” She sat without saying anything for a moment, staring into the flames. “This has been nice, Brandon, but I should probably go.”

      He scooted behind her and rubbed some of the tension from her shoulders. “You know, I’d love to have you stay, to give you a better idea of how it could be between the two of us. But I also want you to know that’s not the only thing I want, so, yeah. Why don’t we get dressed and I’ll walk you to your room.”

      “You don’t have to. I’m a big girl.”

      He arched a brow. “My mother would disown me if I allowed a date to go home without an escort.” He helped her to her feet. “Will you ski with me again in the morning?”

      Lucy looked surprised. “You don’t have to do that either. Now I have an idea of what I’m doing, I can go on my own and not hold you back.”

      He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I want to ski with you. Part of the fun is sharing it. We’ll make a day of it. Lunch here again and then we’ll head into town tomorrow afternoon and look around some of the shops. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

      “All right, but if you change your mind and decide you don’t want to ski with a newbie, my feelings won’t be hurt.”

      The СКАЧАТЬ