“I’m sorry about that. I forgot I had, uh, plans tonight.”
“Yeah, well, if you want a friendly suggestion,Joe, when you find your girlfriend later to explain, you might want to think of another excuse. Most women don’t like to be forgotten.”
He frowned. “Marta isn’t my girlfriend. I barely even know her. This was only our first or second date.”
Brittany couldn’t hide her outrage. “You don’t know how many times you’ve been out?” She paused. “Or does she have a twin sister, too?”
He gave her a hard look but didn’t bite. “It’s not like that. Our first date got cut short by something.”
Brittanyreallydidn’t need to hear the details. She just wanted to get out of here. She needed to go back to her hotel room and regroup. Process what had happened. Not just with John, but also with her brother. Brandon was dead. Whatever she’d thought before, there was a finality to it now that she needed to absorb.
She stood to leave, giving him a brief glance. He still didn’t have his shirt on, which was a little—a lot—distracting. Especially when she saw what looked like finger marks on his arms. Had she done that when she was...?
Wow. “I should go,” she said quickly.
“Wait.” He grabbed her arm to stop her, dropping it when she looked at it. “I, uh... Don’t you think we should talk first?”
She looked up at him, really meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d been on top of her and she’d been about to...
Forget it.
“About what? Are you going to tell me what happened to Brandon? Was he killed in the explosion where you got that scar on your brow?”
If he hadn’t been holding her, she wouldn’t have felthim stiffen. But if she’d struck close, his expression gave nothing away. “Stop fishing, Brittany. I didn’t say there was an explosion.”
“How did you get it, then? How did my brother die?”
He was clearly frustrated by the questions. “I told you I can’t tell you anything. I’ve already told you too much.”
She thought so. “Then there isn’t anything left to say.”
She tried to turn out of his hold, but he wasn’t letting go. “How can you say that? We just...” He cursed again and let her go. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
It took her a moment, but she finally realized what the real problem was. It was written all over his face. “You don’t need to feel guilty about my brother, John. Brandon is gone.”
“I know he’s gone, damn it!”
Right. He would never have done this otherwise. If she needed any more proof that Brandon was truly dead, she supposed she had it. “Even if he wasn’t, it wasn’t his decision to make. I’m twenty-seven years old. Old enough to choose who I want to have sex with.”
Why she was trying to absolve John of his guilt, she didn’t know. But the mention of sex only seemed to make him feel worse. He looked mildly ill.
“Just tell me one thing,” she said.
“What?”
She looked into his eyes. “Did he ask you to stay away from me in San Diego?”
Nothing. Not a blink, nothing. Just the steady tic of a clenched jaw.
She turned away. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
As she’d said, Brandon was dead. And for all intents and purposes, so was John to her. John Donovan was bad news, and she wasn’t going to make the same mistakeagain—been there, done that—no matter how spectacular he was in bed.
•••
John was at a rare loss. He didn’t know what to do—or what to say. He felt as if he were standing in the middle of a minefield and every potential step he took could blow up in his face.
If Marta showing up when she did wasn’t bad enough, now Brittany was trying to put him on the spot again, asking him questions he couldn’t answer.
