The Closer You Come. Gena Showalter

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      And...looking at Brook Lynn now, his body said to hell with Daphne, take this one. The girl smoldered with life and vitality, and he experienced another unbearable urge to grab on to her and hold tight. Warmth spilled through his veins, causing his skin to prickle.

      This reaction wasn’t as much of a mystery as the others. Until six months ago, he’d gone nine years without a woman. Of course his body wanted the one that was nearby.

      “Jessie Kay is a person,” she said. “She has feelings.”

      “So am I. So do I.”

      Brook Lynn’s skin flushed to the deepest rose, the change startling, mesmerizing. Irritating.

      “She also knew what she was getting into,” he added. “I made sure of it before I ever escorted her into my bedroom.”

      Brook Lynn removed one of her sensible flats, but rather than throwing it at him as he expected, she dumped out the water. “Do you do this often, then?”

      “Do what?” he asked.

      “Seduce and abandon women.”

      He laughed; he just couldn’t help himself. “Honey, you must not know your sister as well as you think. She came on to me.” Just a few weeks ago, she’d done the same to Beck. Not that either of them had put up much of a fight or ever complained. “At first, I even told her no.”

      “Are you saying she forced you?”

      He lost his grin in a hurry, dark waves of rage breaking through his armor, rushing over his mind. His hands balled into fists.

      He took a deep breath. Feel nothing. Want nothing. Need nothing.

      Tone flat, he said, “No. I was willing. And now, this conversation is over.” He turned before he did something he would regret—too many of those already—and once again began to walk away.

      Once again she called, “Wait.”

      Something must have been seriously wrong with him, because he faced her, snapping, “What?”

      She stepped back, as if frightened.

      “What?” he asked more gently.

      “I really am sorry for the damage I caused in your room.” Her features softened, making her appear vulnerable in the most tantalizing way, rousing protective instincts he hadn’t known he possessed. “I will pay for what I broke.”

      He recognized integrity when he saw it and respected the hell out of it. To so many people, words were just a means to an end. To him, words were a bond. Jase wouldn’t prevent this girl from doing what she felt was right.

      “I’ll mail you a bill,” he said, deciding he wouldn’t charge her more than twenty dollars for items he’d spent well over two grand on.

      “Thank you.”

      “And I’ll pay for the damage to your hearing aids.” He wondered why she had them in the first place. Had she suffered with deafness all her life?

      “No.” She shook her head with confidence. “I was out of line, barging in on you and Jessie Kay and then starting a fight in your room. I don’t blame you for tossing me in the pool,” she admitted, surprising him. “I can’t in good conscience allow you to pay for anything.”

      He made sure she had a perfect view of his face. He wanted no misunderstandings between them. “Refusing payment isn’t going to do you a bit of good, honey.”

      She peered at him for a long while, silent, before recognizing his own determination and sighing wearily. “Fine,” she said. “Whoever owes more can deduct what the other owes and pay the rest.”

      “Agreed. And now...” He motioned to the back door of the house.

      “Dismissed?” With a humph, she stalked around him—but didn’t head toward the house. She exited the yard through the side gate. He followed at a discreet distance to make sure she reached her vehicle safely.

      She climbed into a rust bucket that couldn’t have been close to street legal.

      “Are you okay?” her sister asked. “What did Jase say to—”

      Jessie Kay’s voice was cut off by the slam of Brook Lynn’s door. As the engine sputtered to life and the headlights blinked on, Jase returned to the house.

      West and Beck were waiting for him inside his bedroom, where they knew he couldn’t avoid them.

      Beck reclined on the bed, flipping channels on the TV. West sat beside him, tossing pieces of popcorn in the air and catching them with his mouth.

      “Hiding from your own party?” Jase asked.

      Both glanced over at him.

      “I’m the crotchety old man who doesn’t like having people in his space—after I’m done with them.” West threw several pieces of popcorn at him and missed. “I’m currently done with them.”

      “Old?” Jase arched a brow. “We’re twenty-eight.”

      “Physically twenty-eight. But our souls? Those are older than dirt.”

      Beck grabbed the last handful of kernels and stuffed them in his mouth. “I don’t mind people in my space, but we’re currently out of fresh lady meat, and you know I never go back for seconds.”

      Exasperated, Jase said, “Then why did you invite everyone over?”

      They peered at him, expectant. Guiltier than usual.

      “Maybe we thought you could use it,” West said, his tone thick with emotion.

      “Whatever you want, you get,” Beck said. “No questions asked.”

      They were trying to make up for everything he’d lost. He wished he could comfort them, reassure them, but he’d never even been able to comfort or reassure himself. “For future reference,” he said, “a party isn’t the way to make me happy. I’d rather be alone than surrounded by strangers.”

      More guilt from West, sorrow from Beck. Regret from Jase.

      “I wanted to move here,” he said. “We’re here. That’s enough.” Six months ago, he’d asked the two to find him a new place to live. Somewhere outside city limits, where the crowds were thinner and the pace slower. West had connections out here, and what he’d described had enthralled Jase. Trees, hills, the closest neighbors miles away. And when the isolated famansion—farm-mansion, as he’d heard it called—suffered a foreclosure a short time later, the two had uprooted their entire lives, unwilling to let him make the move on his own. True, the estate needed a little TLC, but that was something Jase excelled at and was actually enjoying doing.

      Beck had lived next to a golf course and West inside a room adjacent to their plush office suite in downtown Oklahoma City. Each place had been purchased soon after they’d created and sold some kind of computer program, hitting it big, and even СКАЧАТЬ