Luckily for her, the DJ called the guests to attention at that moment, directing everyone to the cake table for the cutting ceremony. Heidi caught a glimpse of Brad—because, of course, he wouldn’t miss an important part of the wedding. People could say what they wanted about the wayward traveler, but when he was in town, he was a good brother.
He had good qualities, she supposed.
His family, Jaime included, were great.
But she supposed he was also a decent person—the sneaking-out-of-bed-before morning-problem aside. And really, as much as she wanted to be mad at him about that, she had invited him into her townhouse, she had wanted him, she had slept with him. Because she’d made that choice. Had she anticipated something different for the morning after? Fuck yes, she had. Did it hit a little too close to home because she was feeling vulnerable and the sneaking out he’d pulled hadn’t been the first time that had happened to her?
Also, yes.
Did she still really want to hold it against him? Yup.
Did she understand that was unreasonable? Sigh. Also, yup.
But was she going to sleep with him again? That was a no.
A big, fat no.
Her gaze drifted from Kate and Jaime, posed with their hands intertwined on the knife, the blade poised above the frosting, to Brad, sexy in a freaking T-shirt and slacks, a slight scruff on his sharp jawline that she’d spent serious time kissing. He was too fucking pretty, and she hated herself for wanting him.
And maybe she hated herself even more for wanting to skirt the crowd, to take his hand, and lead him into that tiny bathroom for some counter-hoisting and skirt-lifting.
But while Heidi might be a lot of things—book smart, successful, a decent person—she wasn’t a liar.
Including to herself.
So, when Brad’s eyes shifted from the cake cutting to hers and her breath caught, heat curling in her abdomen, need flaring anew, she embraced that she would always feel that want, that the attraction would always be there.
Because she could also be one more thing.
Incredibly stubborn.
There was no freaking way she would ever open her heart—or body—to Brad again.
Five
Brad
He heard the soft curse long after he’d thought everyone had left the wedding.
Frowning, he pushed up from the bench where he’d just met with the restaurant manager to make sure the final bills had been taken care of—they had, because Kate and Jaime had planned this wedding down to a tee—and stared out into the dark parking lot, trying to discern where the noise had originated.
“Shit,” came another mutter, though this time, it was accompanied by the click-clicking of high heels.
He’d been enjoying a moment of quiet after the events of the evening, a few minutes to regroup and reset before he headed home, but the noise had him turning in time to see Heidi exiting the back of the building, presents stacked so high in her arms that he was surprised she could even see enough to navigate the dark walk.
“Here,” he said, hurrying over to her.
“Brad?”
“Yup,” he answered, snagging the teetering stack of boxes and opening up her vision. “What are you doing?” He’d seen her drive off earlier.
A shrug. “I couldn’t fit all of Jaime and Kate’s presents in my car. Had to drop them at their house then come back for another trip,” she said, shifting the packages and prompting him to take several more gift bags from her arms. That she didn’t fight him came as a surprise “Thanks.” A smile. “My arms are killing me.”
She led the way to her car, opening the trunk once they’d arrived, and after they’d gone back to the gift table for one more load of presents, they began the real-world game of Tetris, trying to see if the remaining packages would fit amongst the ones she’d already loaded.
“Kate and Jaime made out,” he said, shoving a gift bag into the one remaining hole.
Heidi was cramming boxes into the front seat. “No kidding,” she muttered. “It looks like a Bed, Bath, and Beyond exploded in here.”
He laughed.
Then attempted to close the trunk.
His attempt was unsuccessful.
“This isn’t working,” he said. “Let’s load up my car. I’ll follow you over.”
Heidi’s lips parted, and he thought she’d protest, thought she’d bury herself in the driver’s seat with presents before she agreed to more of his help, but she surprised him once again, nodding then wedging the passenger’s door closed and coming to the rear of her car. “You’re right,” she said, pulling several packages out.
He snagged a few more, and then they managed to close the hatch.
This time, he led the way to his small hybrid—because there was no point in him keeping a big, fancy car when he was hardly in town—and he and Heidi squeezed the remainder of the bags and wrapped boxes into his car.
“I am so glad I don’t have to write thank you notes for these,” she said dryly.
He laughed. “Me, too.”
Then he walked her to her car, said again, “I’ll follow you over.”
Her eyes came to his, held, and for a moment, he thought he saw some heat in those depths. But it was dark, the moonlight overhead hardly doing anything to illuminate the lot. Shadows and blurred lines. Fantasy in thinking this woman would be anything more than polite to him.
“Okay,” she murmured, opening the driver’s door and sitting down.
A moment later, the engine was on and he was heading back to his sedan, starting up his own car’s engine, and carefully pulling out of his spot then following Heidi through the quiet roads and up the winding street that led to the small ranch-style house that Jaime and Kate had bought on the outskirts of town.
Mostly because Kate wanted all the animals.
Including the freaking rooster, who’d caused no shortage of pandemonium.
Last he’d heard, they had adopted a trio of goats that had been destined for slaughter, Fuzzy McFeatherston, the evil rooster, and his half-dozen harem of hens, two dogs, three cats, and a turtle.
At least his brother was a
