“I must declare, ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner of today’s Bryant Brother’s Barbeque Battle.”
“Whoo-hoo, let’s hear it,” Amber cheered.
“The winner is, drum roll please.” Marilyn tossed her long dark locks over her shoulder; the prenatal vitamins obviously agreed with her. “He got the most spoons in his cup and since Luke was the tie-breaker, we have a definite winner. My baby’s daddy, Blake Bryant.”
Marilyn flung herself into Blake’s arms as he hollered and cheered, throwing out a winner’s fist to Gage and Logan. “I told you,” he pointed to Blaze.
“You got lucky this time. There will be time for a rematch and I will win.”
“You guys are ridiculous. I can’t believe you made us all taste and vote,” Gabbie chimed in, “Poor Luke isn’t ever going to hear the end of it.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Luke shrugged his shoulders, towering over Gabbie and Amber. At six foot, three and a half inches, he was officially the tallest, and the youngest, in the group. A mere inch or so taller than his older brother Logan, Luke Reeves was a giant standing next to Gabbie.
“All’s fair in love and war, right, Gage?” Amber smiled wiggling her eyebrows up and down.
Gage stood and pulled her into his arms, “All’s fair as long as I’ve got you where I want you.”
“Hmm, I know somewhere I’d like to be-”
“Hey Ginger, maybe you and Luke need some pointers from them,” Blake smiled pointing to Gage and Amber.
Luke ducked his head, “I don’t think so man.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Blaze spoke up.
Blake’s green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, “Why, you think you’re staking your claim on Ginger? What’s going on with you two anyway?”
“No I’m not staking my claim on her. She’s not my property but she is under my protection. It would be hell following her around on dates.”
Blake chuckled, “I bet. Hell, in more ways than one.” He smacked the back of Blaze’s baseball cap as he walked off.
“What was that all about?” Brandi asked, handing him one of the beers she’d gotten out of the fridge.
“Nothing for you to worry about, Red. Nothing at all.”
Brandi eyed him suspiciously before deciding to let the topic go. Ever since their heated moment in the bathroom when she’d burned her wrist, she’d been plagued by the fact that the same damn book Mr. Kingston had in his possession, Blaze too, had had on his night stand. She’d snuck into his room yesterday to see if it was still lying out and he’d evidently put the damn thing away. She hadn’t spotted it anywhere.
It had constantly been on the tip of her tongue, wanting to demand answers about why he had the book, why did he think Drake was carrying it around and what in God’s name Diane was doing with it. She wanted to confide in him about the silly note that had slipped out, too. But she didn’t completely trust him enough to mention it. Not until she could find more information.
They’d all chipped in and helped Marilyn and Blake clean up after the barbeque and were now headed back to their house in Blaze’s SUV. His phone rang, making her jump out of her skin.
He pulled it out of his pocket long enough to silence the call before shoving it back in.
“Seems I’m not the only one avoiding phone calls,” she mused.
“I’m not avoiding it. I will call the person back as soon as I’m alone.”
His comment stung a little and she hated that. She didn’t want to be…jealous? Nosy? All up in his business? Was it a female? An old girlfriend? She really, really hoped not.
“Oh,” she simply said.
Once they made it back to the guest house, Brandi retrieved the mail and was happy to see her package from Marilyn had arrived. With Blaze’s constant presence around her and the kids, she’d managed not to have much time alone. So she’d enlisted the help of Marilyn Bryant to get her a copy of that damned book. She planned to head straight to her room and read the darned thing tonight. She had to figure out what, if any, clues this would give her. Help her figure out why three people in her life were involved with the stupid thing.
“Going to bed?” his deep voice sent thrills down her back.
“Yeah, I am.” Like a deer caught in headlights, she stood there for a moment, much longer than she should have, taking in his cool demeanor – his blue eyes, the way his hands lay still at his sides, how his tattoo played peek-a-boo with the t-shirt he was wearing and how she desperately wanted to run her fingers over the marks.
Then he asked her something that completely took her by surprise, “You still packin’ heat?”
“Yes. Why?”
He shrugged, “Just want you to be safe is all. Don’t think for one second just because I’m here that you should be without it. Good night, Brandi.”
He sauntered off to his room, leaving her alone with her package in hand. She watched him silently close his bedroom door, wishing he would’ve invited her inside. She wanted to touch him, to tell him she needed to feel his mouth on hers, that she wanted him to be the good guy and yet, the package in her hands reminded her there was much more to his story than she knew. More than he was willing to confide to her and a small part of her hurt because of it.
She tore open the package and read Marilyn’s note: I enclosed the book you asked for, but knowing you, I also included the Cliff Notes. You can thank me later! ~M
She smiled at her friend’s foresight and how blessed she was for having a friend that owned a used-book store. She headed to her bedroom, trying to ignore what Blaze might be doing in his room as she walked passed. Was he already sound asleep, ignorant to the fact she was suspicious of him? Was he fully dressed, half, or better yet, completely naked? Was he pacing around thinking about what it would feel like to lick her tattoo?
She changed into her shorts and pajama top and snuggled into bed. Ignoring the book, she went straight to the Cliff Notes. Reading and trying to comprehend something written so long ago was not Brandi’s forte. After thirty minutes of perusing the notes, she got the basic gist of Machiavelli’s ideas of power, how to achieve these goals and what he thought they meant to the people. Boring. She glanced at her alarm clock and suddenly realized how nutty she actually was. Was she seriously reading this crap when she had no real proof of anything sinister going on in the household? When had she become so gullible? What was wrong with her?
Comparing notes to the Kingston’s life and career, she could easily make similarities between the treatise and their lives. But she could also do that to that old sitcom Full House – similarities were just that, similarities. It didn’t mean someone was trying to take over Global Electronics or trying to sabotage the head of the house. In fact, she was the one who’d conjured up this entire story to begin with. Something was definitely popular about the book because Blaze was reading it. Or had read it. Okay, at the very least, he had it in his possession. But so what? Maybe there was a Machiavellian anniversary going on in the world right now and people were catching up on some reading.
As much as she tried to talk herself out of all the possibilities, her instinct didn’t agree with any of it. Until she could confront Blaze Bryant she wouldn’t be able to figure out a damn thing. She calmed her beating heart, telling herself she could not, would not, barge into his room at twelve forty-seven at night to demand answers.
No matter how badly she wanted those answers coupled with a heavy dose of orgasm on the side.