Negligee Behavior (20 page)

She curled her fingers around his and followed him into the front yard again. He led her to a porch swing and sat down, patting the spot next to him.

She settled down on the padded swing and snuggled her head against his shoulder. He slipped an arm around her waist and leaned his head on top of hers.

“Tell me about Sugar and Spice.”

The random question made her frown. “What do you want to know?”

“How did your parents get into the lingerie business?”

“Hmm.” She laughed softly. “They fell in love young, were actually a couple of hippies. Except the only free love they practiced was with each other.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It was really.” She stared out over the brown mountains and vast land. Stark and beautiful in its own way. “They were always the real artistic types. My dad made his own pottery and my mom loved to design and make her own clothing. Specifically lingerie. They’d travel to festivals and shows and sell their stuff.”

“That’s how they started? For real?”

“Well mostly.” She shrugged. “My mom’s stuff sold like hotcakes. People devoured it, couldn’t buy enough. When it became clear they had something good going, they sold half their possessions, applied for a loan and opened their first shop in a little strip mall in Santa Barbara.”

“Obviously it did well.”

“It did great. Within two years they had opened three more shops and from there it just snowballed.” Her chest swelled with pride. Her parents had started out so small, with just a dream and a couple of bucks. “Now it’s the largest lingerie chain in the United States.”

Marco shook his head. Talk about living the American Dream. The question of the hour was why didn’t Brandy want anything to do with it?

“That’s great. And now they’ve expanded to Europe you said?”

“Yes. Just recently they opened their first store in Paris. I went along for the opening, of course.” She laughed softly. “I mean, come on, it’s a trip to Paris.”

“Not to mention you’ll own the majority of the stock some day,” he said in a quiet voice, testing the waters.

Her body tensed against his. “Yeah, there is that whole part.”

“But you want nothing to do with it?” He decided to push her, hoping she wouldn’t resent him for it.

“It’s not that,” she sighed. “I love Sugar and Spice. I love the quality and beauty of the items we sell. I have no problem standing behind the company itself.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just don’t think I’m necessarily the best face to put behind the company.”

He couldn’t believe what he just heard. “I hope to God you don’t mean that literally.”

“Marco…I’m a choir teacher. I don’t fit the bill of someone who’d run a massive lingerie chain.”

“Bullshit. Just find someone you trust. Someone who can give you good advice when you need it.”

“Like who?”

He drew in a deep breath and looked away.
Like me
. He may have graduated with a law degree, but he’d minored in business.

He couldn’t very well admit that. Not yet. He fully intended to open up and confess everything. But right now, at his father’s house while they were here for dinner wasn’t the best time or place.

Besides, reuniting with his dad seemed like more than enough emotional drama for one day. And the bomb about his past that he planned on dropping on Brandy wasn’t exactly light discussion material.

“I just don’t know,” she murmured after a long pause. “Have you seen my mother? I mean, she’s the type of woman you want behind Sugar and Spice. I’m…”

“Her spitting image.” Marco turned in the seat and cupped the side of her face. “Princess, I
have
seen your mother. And you have her beautiful smile—and sexy long legs.”

Her eyes widened. “Okay, I’m going to try not to think about that fact that you just called my mother’s legs sexy. But thank you.”

He grinned and dropped a kiss over her parted lips. “All I’m saying is think about it. This is your heritage. Your parents worked their ass off to build Sugar and Spice into what it is today. Do you really want to just hand over the reins to someone else?”

“No, I don’t,” she admitted and her lashes lowered to brush against her cheeks. “I just never thought I really had a choice. Thank you, Marco. I’ll think about it. I’ve always thought about it. I didn’t consider myself worthy…until I met you.”

How could she have ever thought that way? He gently drew his fingers across her cheek, ready to say the words aloud, but she wasn’t through.

“You’ve just been so good for me. For my self-esteem, for helping me to relax and have a good time. You even helped me be a little bad.” She gave him a crooked smile. “You’ve never been anything but honest with me. And I want you to know it means a lot.”

Honest.
Shit
. That hit his guilt button and hard.

Maybe he should open the doors to his past, just give her a hint there were some things she didn’t know.

“Brandy—”

“Steaks are ready.” Elena stepped out onto the porch. “Hope you guys weren’t getting ready to make out or anything.”

Marco pulled his arm free from Brandy and ruffled his little sister’s hair. “Yes, we were. You’ve got crappy timing, twerp.”

“So what are you going to do, sue me?” his sister teased with a grin. “I’ll see you both inside.”

Marco blinked, winded for a moment and then looked over at Brandy, expecting to see her shocked. She wasn’t–she stood there looking at him, smiling.

Elena had meant the comment to be a pun on his former career, but Brandy wouldn’t know that. To her it’d be just another bad joke between siblings.

“I’m hungry,” she said and slipped her hand into his. “I can smell those steaks. Does your dad put teriyaki sauce on them? Is that what I’m smelling?”

He tightened his fingers around hers. “He sure does. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? I love the stuff. Lead the way, sexy.”

Gordon sneered. From his spot parked behind a tree down the road, he had the perfect view of Brandy following that punk ass bartender into the house.

The bitch had been all over the guy. And, hell, Gordon barely recognized her with all the makeup, new hairdo and skimpy clothes. She looked good. A helluva lot more fuckable, for sure.

He laughed, the sound high and almost manic in the car. Fuckable. Had he really just called Brandy—the unfuckable—fuckable?

Well, obviously the bartender thought so. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. That man was nothing but trouble.

He flicked the ashes of his cigarette out the window of the car and narrowed his eyes. What did she even see in him? When he finally got her into the car he’d ask. Maybe.

How long would he have to wait to get Brandy alone? Hell, she’d already been there for close to an hour.

He shook his head and reached for another piece of pizza. He shoved half the slice in his mouth and chewed slowly. He’d picked up a large pizza earlier in the day and had been living off the thing since.

Methodically he tapped the barrel of a revolver against his thigh. One way or another he’d get Brandy alone. Even if it meant shooting her new boyfriend. Hell, the world would be better off rid of another lawyer anyway.

“Hmmph.”

Not that he even practiced anymore. What kind of person gave up a prominent law career to open a bar? The man obviously had no sense.

He’d read that little tidbit in the paper this morning, and his rage toward the bastard had doubled.

That article in the paper had covered anyone who’d gotten within five feet of Brandy in the past few months. Not only had they dug up all the garbage on Brandy and this Marco fuckup, but they’d also written a nasty little paragraph about Gordon.

All lies, of course. What the hell did some pimply-faced reporter know? Calling him a gambling addict? He was no addict. He’d just had shitty ass luck lately. And damn it, the tide would change.

It’d all change. Once he paid off the little debt he owed he’d be back on television, making money, and maybe even finding a way to dispose of his bitch of an heiress wife.

He grabbed another slice of pizza and then wiped the grease off the corner of his mouth with his shirt. Pizza, God, how long had it been since he’d had pizza? Hell yeah.

He shoved the slice into his mouth before tapping the gun against his thigh again. They’d be married by the end of the day. All he had to do was wait. Unfortunately, patience had never been one of his virtues…

“That food was wonderful. Thank you, Alfredo.” Brandy tossed her napkin onto her empty plate and leaned back in her chair, hand on her belly. Good lord, when was the last time she’d eaten so much? “Although I think you’re going to need a wheelbarrow to get me out of here.”

Marco laughed and took another sip of beer. “I’ll join you.”

“Uh uh.” Elena shook her head. “That leaves me to push, and I’m too lazy.”

Alfredo beamed from across the table, still slicing into his steak.

“You should come and check out Marco’s bar, Papa,” Elena said. “He’s got a great place there.”

Alfredo’s grin slipped a little and he lowered his head.

Brandy sensed the sudden tension in Marco and laid a hand on his thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

His father looked up again and gave a slight nod, his smile back in place.

“Yes. I would like to.”

The tension in Marco’s thigh eased under her hand. He’d obviously still been worried about his father’s feelings about his career choice.

Opening a bar wasn’t a bad thing. She stole another look over at him, pride swelling in her chest. He was a great man who obviously loved what he did.

And that’s why she loved him. What you saw was what you got with Marco.

His hand covered hers and squeezed. She gave him a quick smile.

“Did Elena tell you her band won the competition at the bar?” she asked Alfredo.

He looked at his daughter and his eyebrows rose
. “Si?
Was this before or after the fight?”

Elena laughed even as her cheeks turned red. “We performed before. We were awarded after.”

Their dad beamed. “That is wonderful. Congratulations,
mi hija.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

Alfredo looked around the table. “How about we celebrate with a cake? Marco and I will go pick one up down at the market.”

“Cake sounds great,” Brandy replied and then frowned. “Are you sure you want to go all the way to the store? I can bake one if you have the ingredients.”

Marco glanced at his father for a moment and then turned to her.

“No, you go ahead and hang out with Elena for a few. I don’t mind going for a little drive.”

Brandy gave a slow nod. Of course. The men wanted time to speak alone. Understandable.

“Cool,” Elena grinned. “I can show her where the band practices. Maybe even get her to sing. I haven’t heard her yet. Have you, Marco?”

Marco’s gaze slipped to hers and the weirdest expression crossed his face, before it turned into a look of amusement.

“Just once,” he replied. “When she was in the shower.”

Brandy’s cheeks flamed. Oh God. She’d forgotten all about that morning.

“All right.” Brandy stood up quickly. “Show me where you rehearse with your band.”

Marco’s soft laughter followed her when she left the room with Elena.

His sister led her down the hall. “I take it that was a private joke?”

Brandy cleared her throat and looked away. “Something like that.”

Elena giggled as she pushed open the door that led into a garage.

“Wow!” Brandy stepped inside. “You’ve turned this into a nice little rehearsal room.”

“Yeah we did. We all went in on having it soundproofed. God knows we don’t want the neighbor calling the cops on our noisy asses.”

“Good call.”

“Okay.” Elena turned around to face her and folded her hands across her chest. “I didn’t bring you in here to just show you where we rehearse.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I just wanted a second alone to thank you.”

Brandy cocked her head, her brows drawing together. “For?”

“For being so supportive. For convincing Marco to see me again and for being so nice about the asshole boyfriend slash drummer situation.” Elena sighed. “For everything. You’re just really cool and I’m glad Marco found you.”

“Ah, sweetie.” She hugged the younger woman. “How are you doing with the Bill situation?”

“Ah, he’s a scumbag. I knew it all along but was in total denial. It’s all good.” Elena sniffled and shrugged. “On the drive home Sebastian talked to me a lot last night, made me realize I can do better. And that maybe I should reconsider dating members of the band in the future.”

“Yeah, that might be something to think about.” Brandy pulled back. “And you know, I’m glad Marco found me too.”

Elena’s expression turned pensive.

Brandy looked away, not sure how she felt about that gleam in the younger woman’s eyes.

“Hey, so why don’t you show me around the rest of your house?”

“All right. Not much to see though.” Elena stepped past her and then shut the garage door behind them. “And you still have yet to sing for me.”

“Someday, I promise.” Brandy gave a soft laugh and followed her down the hall. Her attention caught on the pictures hanging on the wall and frowned, leaning forward.

“So, I have a question for you.”

“Okay. I just may have an answer. What’s up?”

“Do you get free stuff from Sugar and Spice? And if so, do you think you could hook me up?” Elena nudged her arm and grinned. “Especially since you’ll probably be my sister-in-law by the end of the year.”

Brandy’s laughter died at Elena’s last comment.

“Sister-in-law?” she repeated weakly, her head spinning. “Oh. I don’t think…”

“Don’t even tell me Marco isn’t serious about you.”

“Marco doesn’t…” She trailed off and looked away. Her attention landed on a group of photos on the wall again.

“Brandy, come on! I see the way my brother looks at you. The way he always finds a reason to touch you.” She snorted. “I know my brother and let me tell you, I’ll stick a fork in my hand if that man doesn’t propose by Christmas.”

Marry Marco. Brandy swallowed. She hadn’t even allowed the idea to cross her mind. Not until Elena mentioned it. But now that it had…the imagery it created sent her mind spinning, made her legs go a bit weak. She shook her head and glanced away.

“Listen, I can hook you up with some lingerie, but as to Marco and me…we only just met,” she argued, telling herself as much as Elena. “I can’t even begin to—okay, it’s driving me nuts. Is that your cousin?”

Elena followed Brandy’s gaze to the pictures on the wall.

“Which one?”

“That one.” Brandy jammed her finger into the picture of a man who looked to be in his early twenties.

Elena laughed and shook her head. “No, that’s not my cousin. That’s Marco. Or was back in the day.”

Everything shifted inside her. Brandy leaned forward to look at the picture again, convinced she must be seeing things. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. The picture remained the same.

The man staring back at her wore glasses, had a closely cropped haircut and sported a suit and tie. Only the face—specifically the eyes–had convinced her that the man must be a relation to Marco.

But this was no relation—this was Marco.

“I don’t understand,” she said finally. “When was this taken?”

“Ah, a few years ago. Back when he was in school.” Elena shrugged. “He used to be so damn clean-cut and I swear to God he even wore a pocket protector.”

“Pocket protector?” Brandy squeaked. “Marco?”

“Oh yeah.” Elena nodded. “He was like the epitome of a dork all through high school and college. And then one day he shows up with tattoos and a freaking motorcycle. Tells us he’s quitting the firm and opening a bar.”

She stilled. “Firm?”

“Yeah.” Elena frowned. “Wait a minute, why do you look so surprised? Didn’t he tell you?”

A sharp knock came on the front door.

“Hang on. Let me grab that real quick.” Elena stepped past her and walked toward the other room.

Brandy stared at the picture. Firm. She’d said he quit his firm. Surely she meant Firm as in…that exercise video? The ridiculous thought almost made her laugh.

Her phone began to ring, and she fumbled in her pocket for it.

“Hello?

“Hey, it’s me,” Marco said softly. “Do you have a preference for white or chocolate cake?”

“Cake?”

“Yeah. We—”

“What firm did you quit?”

Dead silence met her question.

“Marco,” her voice cracked. “Answer me.”

“Brandy…I was going to tell you.”

“Are you a…” This couldn’t be right. There was no way. “Lawyer?”

“Was. I was a lawyer,” he said quietly. “Listen, princess, we can talk more—”

“Don’t…call me princess. Please. Not now.” She gripped the table in the hallway again and looked at the picture. “I’m staring at this funny-looking picture of you…I didn’t even know it was you. And then—God, you’re really a lawyer? I just don’t understand. Marco, who
are
you?”

“Look, it’s in my past.” His voice took on a harsh edge. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does! I told you everything about me.
Everything
. And you…you never mentioned Anna, your ex-girlfriend. Elena said she’d hurt you—”

“
Anna?
” He cursed. “God, Brandy, I haven’t thought about her in years.”

“Look, it just hurts that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.” She closed her eyes, emotion choking thick in her throat. “The stuff I told you…I haven’t told any—”

“Hey, back the hell off, buddy.” Elena’s sharp voice came from the other room.

Brandy spun around and her focus changed in an instant as she encountered the man gripping Elena’s arm.

“Gordon?”

“Gordon?” Marco’s voice sharpened. “Is he—?”

Brandy snapped her phone shut and stormed across the room.

“Are you
insane
?” she demanded and stepped forward to pry Elena from his grasp. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m picking you up. Let’s go.”

“Go? I’m not going—” Her words died when he stepped forward and pointed the barrel of a gun at her chest.

The blood drained from her face and she hurriedly thrust Elena behind her.

“Okay, take it easy, Gordon.” She drew in a ragged breath, not taking her eyes off the barrel of the gun. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have left you at the altar like that, but don’t you think pointing a gun in my face is a little—aah!”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. “Don’t you dare bring up that godawful day.” He snarled and swung her around, back toward the front door. “Time to quit playing school teacher makeover, and time to go.”

“She’s not going with you,” Elena screamed and dove for the phone.

Gordon jerked the cord from the wall and threw the phone against the table, smashing it into pieces. He trained the gun on the younger woman.

“Hey, little
señorita
girl, sit your ass down before you find yourself shot in the leg.”

Elena looked ready to blow a gasket, but there was a flicker of fear in her eyes that Brandy recognized.

“It’s okay, Elena,” Brandy said quickly. Cold sweat beaded on the back of her neck. Gordon had obviously lost a few marbles since she’d last seen him. “I’ll go with him.”

“Damn right you will.” Gordon strode forward, pulling some rope out of bag he’d been carrying.

Rope? He’d brought
rope
?
And you’re surprised why? The man also brought a gun!

“What are you doing, Gordon?” she asked warily.

“I’m tying her up. You can’t honestly expect me to leave her free to call for help the minute we leave.”

“Oh God.” Brandy shot the younger girl a pleading look, hoping she wouldn’t fight. “I’m so sorry, Elena.”

Gordon pushed the younger woman down in a chair. As he held her down, he tied her hands behind her and her ankles to the chair legs.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed Brandy’s arm again and dragged her toward the front door.