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Lana managed to disappear from the world for a week without anyone bothering her. Not having a cell phone helped. Her pain was down to tolerable levels, but she still exhausted easily. Her home had become her sanctuary and allowed her to forget other, irritating, people existed. It also gave her too much time to dwell on one rather exasperating person.
She didn’t want to think about him, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. He’d kissed her. Again. Acted like he had the right to whenever he pleased. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, so that made things even more beguiling. Each time it was a simple peck and rather sweet—then he would smile in that cocky way of his and go about as if nothing monumental had happened. The next time she saw Sullivan, she was going to make him explain himself. She kept saying she would, but somehow, whenever she did encounter him, she forgot her resolve. Instead, her mind traveled down a little back road of decadent images best not seen in the light of day.
Sullivan was her weakness. Always had been.
The question she had to ask herself was if she wanted to change that, and if she did, how would she go about accomplishing it. Her heart always beat a little faster when he was around, and sometimes without realizing it, she even became a little breathless. She hated herself for it. He’d always bounced around from female to female as if they were as discardable as paper napkins. They were Sullied and no longer desirable to him. Once and done was his motto and he stuck to it—at least mostly. There were a few he dated over a span of a couple weeks, but they never lasted. Sully was the type of man women wanted to tame yet realized too late he wasn’t capable of submitting to any female.
Gah. She had to stop thinking about him.
The doorbell chimed, causing her to groan. She should’ve known she couldn’t hide indefinitely. It was probably Jessica. If she didn’t answer the door, she’d barge in to check on her like last time. She really did need to retrieve her key from her. What if she brought a guy home and Jessica was worried enough to charge in and find them naked on her couch? That would be embarrassing. But not as mortifying as the image of her and Sullivan naked, rolling around in her front room.
Lana liked that a little too much. Her skin heated, and she feared if she glanced in a mirror she would find a flushed face. There was no time to cool off before she answered the door. She sighed and headed to see who was there to disturb her. Would it be too much to ask that it be a pizza delivery guy? She could use something to eat.
She pulled the door open wide and her mouth fell open in shock. What fresh new hell was this? A demon must have been inside her head and listening to all her wanton desires. That had to be the explanation for who and what she found waiting on her doorstep. There, dressed immaculately in a well-tailored dark suit and a dark blue tie, stood Sullivan Brady. To top off that deliciousness, he held a pizza box in his hand. Lana closed her eyes and counted to ten. Surely, when she opened them, he wouldn’t be standing there ready to deliver her every desire. She blinked and attempted to wipe him from her vision, but no luck. He still stood there with his cocksure smile, waiting for her to address him.
“What, no trench coat, Clarence?” She lifted a brow.
“What?” Sullivan asked, confusion echoing in his voice.
“You have the suit and the pizza. Have you watched any movies involving a pizza man that gave you ideas lately?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Though I doubt you’d need pointers from a pizza man.”
“I want to say I’m following you,” he said. “But you might as well be talking gibberish.”
Of course he wouldn’t be a fan of one of her favorite television shows. Two hunky brothers fighting the supernatural beings of the world was enough to keep her riveted—apparently it wasn’t Sully’s thing. She wasn’t about to explain to him how an angel and a demon discovered something in each other they didn’t expect to. Sometimes a person found love in the last place they thought to look. Sullivan wasn’t her Clarence any more than she was his Meg. Though she would take his pizza and shove him out the door if he let her.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?” he asked.
She sighed. If she allowed him inside, he might take forever to leave. But he had pizza and she was starving. As if on cue, her stomach gurgled. The smell of that pie was enticing, and she wanted to get her hands on it. Who was she kidding? She wanted it in her belly and fast.
“Depends,” she said. “What’s in it for me?”
His lips twitched upward. “Why don’t you let me in and find out.”
Sneaky. He didn’t want to disclose his motives and possibly make her slam the door in his face. She shouldn’t trust him. The tricky bastard knew a workaround of her suspicious nature though. That pizza would be his ticket inside her house, and the rat bastard knew it. She nodded toward the box in his hand and said. “What’s on it?” If it had any gross toppings, she’d boot him clear to the curb.
“Ham and pepperoni,” he replied. “You don’t think I’d allow something you don’t like on your precious pie, do you?”
He remembered her preference. She wasn’t sure how to take that. He’d been acting so strange lately. Maybe this was her chance to peel back a few layers and figure him out. She knew him, perhaps better than even his best friend, but she didn’t know what made him push her away and pull her close at the same time. Since she returned to Envill after she finished graduate school and became a specialized registered nurse, he’d been distant as hell. When they were younger, he’d been much nicer. A switch had flipped between them. For her, it had been that fateful day at the pool. She couldn’t say when it happened for him.
“I’m not sure about anything with you,” she said honestly. “I suppose you want to stay and eat that with me.”
“You’d suppose right,” he agreed.
“Then come inside.” She held the door open for him to move past her and then shut it behind him. Sullivan had never been in her house before. She didn’t have a clue how to react to that. Lana gestured toward the room she’d been veging on the couch in. “Take it into the front room, and I’ll grab a couple plates from the kitchen.”
He nodded and headed toward the couch, then set the pizza on her coffee table. Lana stared at him, still baffled he was in there. Then shook it away to go into her kitchen to gather a little breathing room and regain her composure. Sullivan didn’t do anything without a reason. Him being at her house could be anything, but she shouldn’t read too much into it. So what if he kissed her a few times. It had been borderline brotherly when he’d done it. She probably had felt more than he had.
Once inside her kitchen she pulled a couple small plates out of her cabinet and then some wine glasses. She would need some alcohol if she was dealing with Sullivan. She’d have to limit herself to one glass tonight though. With her meds, she shouldn’t even have that much. At least she hadn’t taken the strong one yet and could indulge. All she’d had was a good ole ibuprofen, saving the big dose for bedtime.
Luckily, she had a bottle of wine she’d never opened before her accident. A nice, cheap moscato she sucked down like juice whenever she poured herself a glass. Sullivan probably had richer tastes when it came to wine, but Lana preferred the cheap stuff. All right, maybe that was because she’d never had the pricey bottles. She couldn’t afford it, and she did like this particular brand. To her, it didn’t matter if the cap unscrewed or she had to dig out a corkscrew. As long as it was tasty, it would do.
She grabbed the wine, glasses, and plates and headed back to the front room. Sullivan had turned the television off and brought the lights to a low, romantic ambient glow. Shit. Where had that come from? There was nothing remotely romantic about this. Was there? Of course not—she was being silly. They needed some light to eat by, and she had been watching her show in the dark. She had to stop thinking crazy thoughts where Sullivan was concerned. If she kept it up, she’d end up with a broken heart.
“I have wine,” she said stupidly. Almost as stupid as the line from Dirty Dancing where she said she carried the watermelons. “Want to pour it?”
He grinned and grabbed the bottle from her. She set the glasses on the table as he unscrewed the cap. This bottle wasn’t even a fancy cheap bottle. He poured the wine and handed her a glass. “Should we do a toast?” Sullivan asked.
“To what?” she inquired. Her insane attraction to him?
“How about your health and our relationship?”
She wrinkled her nose up and frowned. Had something happened while she was asleep in the hospital? Perhaps she was still asleep and dreaming some of her deepest, darkest desires. Surely he hadn’t said our relationship. “Sully, I feel like I’m in a movie that someone forgot to give me the script to. We don’t have a relationship.”
“We’ve always had one, Lisanna,” he replied. “One we’ve danced around and did our very best to pretend wasn’t there. I think it’s time we stopped and figured out what this is.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said vehemently. It was much easier to berate him for using her full name than address the whopper in the room. He didn’t suggest they be—she wasn’t sure what he wanted. There was no word that fit the definition the way she saw it. “Did you hit your head? Are you feeling all right?”
Sullivan sighed and set his wine glass on the table. He walked over to her side and took hers to set down too, then pulled her into his arms. She started to back away but then gave in when her whole body became attuned to his. Something about him had always felt incredibly right. She held her breath and waited to see what he’d do. If he gave her another one of those brotherly chaste kisses she’d punch him.
“I’ve been afraid to completely give myself in any emotional way to someone,” he said. “A part of me nearly died when I saw you in the hospital bed. It was the swift kick I needed to realize what I feared already had happened. I kissed my heart goodbye years ago and gave it to you without ever realizing it.”
He didn’t say he loved her, but that little declaration was as good as saying so. Surely, she’d misunderstood. She should ask questions. There were a lot of them rolling through her mind, but she couldn’t find words. What the hell were words anyway? They could be misconstrued and twisted into something that barely resembled what he meant.
“You should...”
“Don’t,” he interrupted. “Please, don’t” He leaned down and kissed her. Not one of the sweet kisses he’d bestowed on her before, but the kind she’d always dreamed of and yet never dared to ask for. He sucked on her lips and savored them. When she sighed, he swept his tongue into her mouth and made love to her with tongue, lips and teeth. She was good and truly plundered by the time he was finished.
She shook with need and wanted to beg him to kiss her forever just like that. Every woman should know what it is like to be kissed by someone with Sullivan Brady’s skill, talent, and devotion combined. He lifted his head and stared into her eyes, then brought up his hand to caress her hair. “We have time to figure this out. All I’m asking for is a chance. Can you give me that?”
Lana nodded stupidly. She was drunk on his kisses, and it was a heady experience. She’d probably agree to anything in the state she was in. “Starting tonight?”
“We started weeks ago,” he said and then smiled smugly. “You just didn’t realize it.”
If she didn’t feel so good she’d smack that smile off his face. Right then though she rather liked it. Probably because he was focusing all his attention on her, and standing in the light always made things seem more pleasant. “I’m agreeing that tonight changes things. It might have happened to you sooner, but for me this is all too new. Why don’t we eat that pizza you brought and see how things go?”
“I’d like that,” he said and led her to the couch.
They ate the pizza, drank wine, and talked. He didn’t kiss her passionately again, but he touched her often, as if he was helping her become accustomed to it. She had to admit it was super effective. By the time she showed him out, she was deeply sensitized and on the brink of inviting him to her bed. Luckily, he didn’t push, and she was able to remain strong enough not to voice her desire. One day though, she might be desperate enough to beg him to make love to her. God help her when that day came. She probably wouldn’t survive it...