voice tinged with disappointment.
“Hell yes, I’m protecting him. He’s my big brother. Just because he can’t keep his dick in his pants, doesn’t mean he’s a monster.”
She hesitated, looking like she wanted to say more. In her expression he saw compassion. Understanding. But threaded through it was determination.
“Has he always been that way?”
“A slut?”
She nodded. “I mean, earlier, when I asked you if your brother could have been the father of Sissy’s unborn child? You said, ‘no,’ with absolute certainty.”
“Listen, Carly. I agree we’ve got some strange coincidences … but now you’re really reaching. I told you. He would have married her in a heartbeat if she’d have had him. He was torn up for weeks after he found out she’d been with someone else.”
“Why wouldn’t she have had him?” Carly asked. “If she was scared enough to lie about being raped, why didn’t she say yes to your brother?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t ask her because it wasn’t his kid.” He threw his hands in the air and shook his head. “This conversation is crazy, you know that? We’re talking about a girl who died twenty years ago, for christssakes. It’s ridiculous.”
“I’m sorry, JD. It’s just…I don’t think we’re here by chance. Don’t you see that? Can’t you feel it? I mean, me falling down the hill. Your stupid truck getting flattened in the front yard. Everything that’s happening? The doors. The woman? The picture upstairs that looks exactly like Jillian? God in heaven, there’s something going on here and we need to figure out what in the hell it is.”
She’d worked herself into tears. Giant drops that spilled over her lashes. She swiped them away with an angry hand. “I’m scared,” she said. “And I want to know what’s going on.”
His own anger faded as he watched her struggling to hold back the tide. She was frightened. Hell, he was too. The shadows just seemed to get longer and the air felt thick with anticipation. And as crazy as what she’d just said sounded, he knew in some way, she was right. Too much coincidence to ignore. But what did that mean, really? What did Bill and her friend have to do with the two of them being stranded in this house? Nothing? Everything?
He looked at Carly, furiously scrubbing the tears from her eyes and shook his head.
“Hey,” he said.
She lowered her face so he couldn’t see, but she couldn’t seem to stop the flow. Suddenly it didn't matter so much what had brought them to this place. All that mattered was that they were here, together. He gave into the desire he’d been fighting. He pulled her into his arms and held her—not in comfort, not as a stranger, but as a man.
She struggled half-heartedly and then she sagged against him, bunching his t-shirt in her fists, pressing her face to his chest. He didn't say anything, he just held her, rubbing her back and shoulders, aware all the while of every soft curve of her body. Despite all she’d been through, her scent was sweet, like some honeyed soap and perfume so light he could barely smell it. He wanted to press his face to the soft curve of her neck until her fragrance surrounded him.
She still had pine needles caught in her hair and he pulled a couple out then combed his fingers through it. It was long and tangled in a silky mess. He rubbed the tight muscles of her neck, the base of her scalp, her shoulders, until her tears slowed then dried completely.
She stayed in his arms, but he felt her tense, felt her awareness of him spread through her body.
She tilted her head back and looked up at him with those big blue eyes. He could tell himself no all night, but the fact of the matter was, he wanted to kiss her—he wanted more than that. He wanted to bury himself inside her and stay there for a long, long time.
His gaze moved from her beautiful eyes to her soft mouth. She
“Hell yes, I’m protecting him. He’s my big brother. Just because he can’t keep his dick in his pants, doesn’t mean he’s a monster.”
She hesitated, looking like she wanted to say more. In her expression he saw compassion. Understanding. But threaded through it was determination.
“Has he always been that way?”
“A slut?”
She nodded. “I mean, earlier, when I asked you if your brother could have been the father of Sissy’s unborn child? You said, ‘no,’ with absolute certainty.”
“Listen, Carly. I agree we’ve got some strange coincidences … but now you’re really reaching. I told you. He would have married her in a heartbeat if she’d have had him. He was torn up for weeks after he found out she’d been with someone else.”
“Why wouldn’t she have had him?” Carly asked. “If she was scared enough to lie about being raped, why didn’t she say yes to your brother?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t ask her because it wasn’t his kid.” He threw his hands in the air and shook his head. “This conversation is crazy, you know that? We’re talking about a girl who died twenty years ago, for christssakes. It’s ridiculous.”
“I’m sorry, JD. It’s just…I don’t think we’re here by chance. Don’t you see that? Can’t you feel it? I mean, me falling down the hill. Your stupid truck getting flattened in the front yard. Everything that’s happening? The doors. The woman? The picture upstairs that looks exactly like Jillian? God in heaven, there’s something going on here and we need to figure out what in the hell it is.”
She’d worked herself into tears. Giant drops that spilled over her lashes. She swiped them away with an angry hand. “I’m scared,” she said. “And I want to know what’s going on.”
His own anger faded as he watched her struggling to hold back the tide. She was frightened. Hell, he was too. The shadows just seemed to get longer and the air felt thick with anticipation. And as crazy as what she’d just said sounded, he knew in some way, she was right. Too much coincidence to ignore. But what did that mean, really? What did Bill and her friend have to do with the two of them being stranded in this house? Nothing? Everything?
He looked at Carly, furiously scrubbing the tears from her eyes and shook his head.
“Hey,” he said.
She lowered her face so he couldn’t see, but she couldn’t seem to stop the flow. Suddenly it didn't matter so much what had brought them to this place. All that mattered was that they were here, together. He gave into the desire he’d been fighting. He pulled her into his arms and held her—not in comfort, not as a stranger, but as a man.
She struggled half-heartedly and then she sagged against him, bunching his t-shirt in her fists, pressing her face to his chest. He didn't say anything, he just held her, rubbing her back and shoulders, aware all the while of every soft curve of her body. Despite all she’d been through, her scent was sweet, like some honeyed soap and perfume so light he could barely smell it. He wanted to press his face to the soft curve of her neck until her fragrance surrounded him.
She still had pine needles caught in her hair and he pulled a couple out then combed his fingers through it. It was long and tangled in a silky mess. He rubbed the tight muscles of her neck, the base of her scalp, her shoulders, until her tears slowed then dried completely.
She stayed in his arms, but he felt her tense, felt her awareness of him spread through her body.
She tilted her head back and looked up at him with those big blue eyes. He could tell himself no all night, but the fact of the matter was, he wanted to kiss her—he wanted more than that. He wanted to bury himself inside her and stay there for a long, long time.
His gaze moved from her beautiful eyes to her soft mouth. She
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