Stormy Passion Page 31

  “That will work,” Brenna said and sat down in the rose-colored chair, thankful for a rest. Her overwhelmed senses had rapidly drained her strength. She wanted to kiss Taylor so much she actually ached, but she knew she'd done the right thing.

  Taylor handed her a navy jogging suit with DUKE UNIVERSITY written across the front. “I see you still pull for our team?”

  “Of course. Yea, Blue Devils!”

  Taylor chuckled and moved to the door. “I'll give you some privacy. When you get to the top of the stairs, just holler and I'll come back and get you. By the way, I hope you liked my flowers.”

  So Taylor had been the one. But he was gone by the time she looked back. She smiled at the arrangement of daisies. Perhaps, she should pluck each one ... he loves me, he loves me not. She laughed. As least she'd have an answer to the mysterious question.

  Once she was downstairs, Brenna's spirits automatically lifted as she hobbled to her office in hopes of getting some work done.

  “I hope you don't mind that I've been using your office,” Taylor said from behind her. “But I've had some business to take care of.”

  “My office is your office. After all, it's the least I can do for your kindness,” Brenna said before taking her seat behind the desk.

  Taylor pushed away from the door and moved toward the desk. “I have some errands to run.” He picked up a folder full of papers and tucked them in his briefcase. “I'll be back in time to help Geraldine tonight.”

  “Maybe I can help too.”

  “Maybe.” He grinned and was gone.

  But not gone from Brenna's mind. Taylor was everything to her ... good ... kind ... thoughtful ... and every inch a man. If there were only some way they could work things out, bury the hatchet and start fresh. “Wishful thinking,” she sighed and started flipping through the mail. She'd felt so useless this past week that even paying bills was a welcome relief. When she got to the end of the stack, she saw an envelope sticking out from under her desk pad and suddenly remembered putting it there last week to pay.

  “Damn!” How could she have forgotten to make the house payment? If she got behind one more time, they would probably kick her out. Would money plague her the rest of her life? She reached for her checkbook and started writing. Having Sleepy Hollow full for the last two months had certainly helped her bank account. She smiled as she sealed the envelope, thankful that at least one worry was behind her.

  The rest of the afternoon she tried to keep busy, but a restless agitation nagged at her. The house seemed much too quiet, which usually didn't disturb her. She couldn't figure out what was bothering her until Taylor came home.

  Good heavens, she had missed Taylor. Somehow she had let him back into her life. What was she going to do about it? Lord, only knows.

  “See who I found on her way home from school,” Taylor said and produced Lisa from behind him.

  “Brenna, look at you, you're walking!”

  “If you call this walking. I'm not real fond of these things.”

  “Now I can ask you,” Lisa said with a childish giggle.

  Brenna shoved her hair over her shoulder. “Ask me what?”

  Lisa held her hands in front of her as if she was praying. “Can I have a pajama party next weekend? Please ... Please.”

  Brenna felt slightly guilty. So many things had happened over the last week that she'd forgotten her sister's birthday was next Saturday.

  “Please,” Lisa begged at Brenna's hesitation. “Taylor said he'd help.”

  “Really,” Brenna replied, tilting her head to look at him. Taylor was fast becoming a part of her family. “Since it must be a special day, even though I can't remember exactly what that day is,” Brenna teased. “I suppose it can't hurt.”

  “Great!” Lisa jumped up and down clapping her hands. “We won't be any bother.”

  “I'm sure we won't even notice fifteen young ladies.” Taylor chuckled.

  Brenna couldn't help noticing how Taylor seemed to take charge of everything. She wasn't sure if it irritated her or she liked it. And then he smiled and she glimpsed a man from long ago. “Go put your books away and help set the tables for tonight.”

  When Lisa left, Brenna looked at Taylor. “How did your business go today? I hope you found everything you needed in our little town.”

  “Very well.” Taylor placed his briefcase on the desk behind the stairs. “I'm beginning to find my way around this town. But enough about me. How are you feeling?”

  “Not bad. I was just on my way to see Geraldine.”

  “Good. I was, too.”

  When they neared the kitchen, a terrible commotion of aluminum pots hitting the floor made Brenna smile. “Sounds like Geraldine is having a temper tantrum.” Brenna pushed open the door and they both peeked in to see if it was safe.

  “Where the Sam-hell did that dang pot go?” Geraldine swore, and another lid slid across the kitchen floor.

  The only thing Brenna could see was Geraldine's ample bottom stuck up in the air. The rest of her was hidden in a cabinet.

  “Lose something?” Brenna asked, trying to hide the amusement in her voice as they eased into the room.

  Geraldine's head immediately appeared from its hiding place. “Dang right. My favorite pot is gone.”

  “That wouldn't be the big, silver pot with the long black handle?” Taylor asked.

  “Yep. That's it.”

  “Whoops.” Taylor chuckled. “I'm afraid I'm the thief. I took it outside to tighten the handle and my cell phone rang and I got side-tracked. I'll be right back,” he said as he disappeared out the back door.

  Geraldine watched him and smiled. “I like that young man of yours.”

  “He isn't mine.” Brenna hobbled over to the dryer and peeked inside to see if there were clothes to be folded. “He belongs to Carol and is only here for a short visit.”

  Geraldine moved a chair over by the dryer. “Here ya ken sit and fold towels and make yerself useful. And I think he's more yours than ya know.”

  Brenna couldn't respond because Taylor appeared with the missing pot. He handed the missing item to Geraldine and gave her a boyish smile. “Forgiven?”

  “I reckon.” Geraldine raised a brow. “Ya up to makin' a salad tonight?”

  Taylor went over to the sink to wash his hands. “What are you planning for dinner?”

  “Spaghetti.”

  “In that case, let me make the sauce and you do the salad.”

  Brenna watched in amazement as Taylor rolled up his sleeves, slipped an apron over his head, and picked up a knife to start cutting onions. Here was another side of him she'd never seen. When he'd lived with his mother, Taylor had had servants to do everything for them.

  “I didn't know you knew how to cook,” Brenna said, voicing the question she'd been thinking. Taylor seemed to fit into the kitchen just like he was at home, and he didn't mind one bit.

  “There are lots of things about me you don't know,” Taylor told her, but he didn't look up. Instead, he kept slicing the onion.

  His words held a double meaning and Brenna blushed, but she quickly busied herself with the towels and only allowed her eyes to glance ever so often at the man who made her blood boil. Maybe he was right. Her brows drew together in a frown. She didn't know him at all.

  If she had another chance with him ... this time she wouldn't blow it.

  The dinner hour arrived. The house smelled of spices and held a warmth that made guests smile as they entered the door. Brenna replaced Nell as hostess so she could wait tables. It felt good to be doing something useful again. Brenna moved awkwardly as she showed a couple to their seats. Surprisingly, everyone was understanding and asked all kinds of questions on how she'd broken her foot. She'd never been so pampered in her life.

  She had just finished stacking menus when she looked up to see David coming in through the front door with a bouquet of red roses.

  “How thoughtful.”

  “I know I wasn't supposed to come until tomor
row, but I just heard today that you had been hurt, and I couldn't stay away another minute.”

  Brenna leaned over to smell the roses. She couldn't tell David she'd forgotten completely that he was coming over tomorrow. As a matter of fact, she hadn't thought of him since the day of the festival. He was so sweet she couldn't hurt his feelings. “I'm glad you came.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to seat all the guests first.”

  “Good. I was hoping you hadn't. Now you can have dinner with me.”

  Brenna smiled. She had planned on eating with Taylor, but now it would have to wait for another time. “Why don't you have a seat at the corner table, and I'll take these lovely flowers to the kitchen and join you in a minute.”

  Nell came by just as Brenna was trying to figure out how she'd get the flowers to the back. She couldn't do a damn thing without help. “Will you help me?”

  Nell smiled and took the arrangement from her. Brenna lumbered behind her to the kitchen. She was sick of these crutches already. They were rubbing the skin raw under her arms. And she hated this feeling of helplessness.

  Lisa's eyes brightened. “Look, flowers. Where did you get those? From Taylor I bet.”

  “Guess again, muffin,” Taylor said as he stomped the snow from his boots. His cheeks were cinnamon-colored from the cold. Evidently, he'd been getting more wood.

  “Lisa, will you take over the front?” Brenna dragged her eyes reluctantly away from Taylor to her sister. “I don't think we'll be having any more guests, but it seems I have a dinner date I forgot about.”

  Lisa took the flowers from Nell and frowned. “Yuk, these must be from David then.” Brenna nodded but her gaze went back to Taylor. She saw him tense, and she couldn't quite read the expression in his remote eyes. Could he possibly be jealous? No. Not in a thousand years.

  “Well, tell Mr. Personality I said hello.” Lisa's sarcasm dripped from her voice as she left the kitchen.

  “David isn't that bad, young lady,” Brenna responded to her sister's rude comments. “You shouldn't act so ugly around him,” she reminded her sister but figured she was wasting her breath. She didn't take her gaze off Lisa as she asked, “Is there anything you need me to do, Geraldine?”

  “Nope. Ya go ahead and eat. I'm hearin' lots of good comments about Taylor's fine sauce. We'll chow down in here.” Geraldine took two clean plates from the cabinet. “Just run along, honey. Ya don't want to keep yer fella waitin'“

  Brenna's brow raised a fraction at Geraldine. Just what was she up too. “Well, if you're sure,” Brenna said, wishing she could eat in the kitchen with them. “I can't wait to taste the sauce myself.” Brenna glanced one more time at Taylor, but he had turned his back to her. His silence left her a little uncomfortable.

  She felt guilty for having dinner with someone else. Quickly, she reminded herself she was single and could have dinner with whomever she pleased. Perhaps, Taylor just didn't care. She turned and left.

  Taylor stared at the swinging door.

  “I'll have to give it to him,” Geraldine broke the silence. “That boy deserves an 'A' for effort.”

  An 'A' isn't exactly what I'd like to give him. Taylor jerked off his coat. He was irritated with himself for being jealous. He should have known there was another man in Brenna's life. She wouldn't have been waiting around for him to come and get her, Taylor thought. Because if she wanted me--she shouldn't have left. It always boiled down to the same question.

  “Does he come around here a lot?” Taylor jerked his head toward the door.

  Geraldine shrugged. “As much as Brenna will let him.”

  “Do you think she likes him?” Taylor snapped out the question.

  “Brenna likes everybody.” Geraldine smiled. “Come on, let's eat some of this fine spaghetti.” Geraldine licked the spoon before putting it in the sink. “Mmm, good,” she praised him. “Ya know, somebody would be a pure fool to let ya get away. Not only do ya look fine ... yer a damn good cook to boot.”

  Taylor smiled at her. He knew he wasn't going to get anything out of good, old Geraldine. “I'm going to put some wood on the fire. I'll be right back.”

  And if that SOB is touching Brenna ... I just might throw him into the fire, too.

  Chapter Nine

  The minute Taylor saw Brenna and David sitting at a corner table Taylor's jaw tightened. Brenna's laughter floated all around him as he bent down and roughly shoved a log into the fireplace, sending a shower of sparks into the air like fireworks

  That man wasn't her type. Brenna needed someone strong, decisive. Someone she could lean on. Someone like himself. And therein lay the problem. When she could have had him to lean on after her parent's deaths, she hadn't. She simply left town without bothering to say anything. What a fool he was where Brenna was concerned. After years of driving her from his thoughts, here he was in the middle of her life again, setting himself up for the same hurt. Only this time he'd be the one leaving.

  Replacing the fire screen, Taylor remembered he had a dinner date of his own in the kitchen. Before he left, he glanced one more time at Brenna to make sure David wasn't touching her.

  Brenna saw Taylor from the corner of her eye. Even dressed in a blue flannel shirt and jeans, he possessed an aura of strength that added to his masculinity.

  David talked about his store, which seemed to be the only thing he knew, but Brenna heard none of it. However, she did overhear the two women sitting right behind her talking about Taylor.

  “Look over there.” One of the women evidently punched the other because she dropped a fork.

  “Wow! Isn't he good looking?” the second lady whispered. “And get a load of those broad shoulders. He must be one of those rugged, mountain men.”

  They both laughed and then one asked, “I wonder if he comes with the room?”

  Brenna tensed. She was just about to turn and tell both of them Taylor wasn't available when he looked at her with a sensual stare that melted her heart. His attraction was lethal. She wondered how many women he'd been intimate with over the last three years. Had he replaced her the minute she'd left town? Surely, he hadn't. Their love had to have meant something. Taylor was probably very angry because she hadn't contacted him directly, and she couldn't blame him. She'd have felt the same way, too. But she had been given little choice. Taylor's mother had driven a hard bargain, striking when Brenna had been the most vulnerable.

  Regrets ... Unfortunately, she would have to live with her decision.

  “You didn't hear a word I said, did you?” David said then glanced in the direction in which Brenna gaped.

  “I'm sorry.”

  “Who's that? Hired help?” David asked. “I've seen him around town this past week.”

  “His name is Taylor Rothschild. We grew up together,” Brenna explained. “He's helping me out until I can get back on both my feet.”

  David took her hand in his. “I would have been glad to help you.”

  “I know, but you have the store.” Brenna smiled, thinking he really was a nice person. “Taylor is working out just fine.”

  David wiped his mouth and placed the cloth napkin on the table. “That was a great dinner. Geraldine really outdid herself again.”

  Brenna didn't bother to explain that Taylor had cooked the meal. Instead, she suggested, “Would you like to retire to the living room for coffee?”

  After they reached the empty room, Brenna made the mistake of sitting on the couch, and David quickly sat down beside her, draping his arm over her shoulder.

  She should tell him she was tired, but she did the polite thing and listened to him talk about anything and everything, and nothing at all. She nodded ever so often, so he'd think she was listening. Brenna tried to picture herself twenty years down the road married to David, but decided they wouldn't make it past ten because she would die of boredom.

  Taylor entered the room, frowning. He took the dishtowel he held in his hand and slung it over his shoulder. Evidently, h
e'd been helping Geraldine, and Brenna's heart twisted just a little.

  “Are you tired, Brenna?”

  It was all she could do to keep her heavy-lidded eyes open, and her head felt like a medicine ball perched upon a stick. But she managed to lie, “A little.”

  “I thought so.” Taylor then looked at David. “This is her first day up, and it appears she's overdone it. I think it's time you went home.” The authority in Taylor's voice left no room for argument.

  David pulled his arm from around Brenna and reluctantly stood. “Can't the lady speak for herself?”

  Taylor's brow raised a fraction, but he remained calm as he said, “Apparently not. You're still here.”

  “Taylor! Don't be so rude.” Brenna couldn't believe the animosity in Taylor's voice. He actually appeared to have a strong desire to punch David. She wasn't sure why Taylor had such dislike for her friend, but she didn't want to create a ruckus in her house. “He's right. I'm very tired, David.”

  He stared at her. “I'm sorry. You should have said something earlier,” David murmured. “You don't have to walk me to the door,” he added then bent over and kissed her on the lips. “I'll check on you in a few days.”

  “Good night,” she mumbled, shocked by his action.

  David didn't brother to look at Taylor who stood like a guard with his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against a table.

  After David left, Brenna shifted her eyes to Taylor. “You could have been a little more tactful,” she scolded. “He is a friend.”

  “I noticed. Even the village idiot could see you're tired. That joker should have left a long time ago.”

  Brenna attempted to stand, but her arms were so sore from using the crutches that she sank back down.

  Taylor rushed over and gently pulled her up. Her heart skipped a beat the minute he touched her. Brenna depended on his strength more than she should, but she hadn't had anyone to lean on for such a long time. She looked up at him. “You've done so much for me. I feel like a burden to you.”

  “Nonsense.” He placed a finger over her lips. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be.”