The Braddock Boys: Brent

Nothing.

He wasn’t sprawled on the front seat or hunkered in the miniscule space in the back.

The Camaro was empty.

Impossible.

She whirled, drinking in the surrounding countryside. She’d been all of twenty seconds behind him. No way could he have crossed the wide open pasture in that short amount of time. Not flat out running. Not even hauling it on a four-wheeler.

Her mind raced as her attention shifted back to the muscle car. Her gaze dropped to the foot of space between the bottom of the car and the ground. It wasn’t enough to accommodate a man of his size. At the same time, she’d seen seven men stuff themselves into a crawlspace the size of a single shower stall to escape capture. Desperation was the mother of the impossible.

“You might as well come out.” Abigail summoned her most commanding voice. “I know you’re under there.”

“Actually,” the deep, timbre of his voice slithered into her ear a heartbeat before she felt his presence, “I’m out here.” A hand touched her shoulder. “Right behind you.”

4

SHE WHIRLED AND STARED up at him with blue eyes so clear and vivid that he should have been able to see everything going on in her head. She was startled. That’s all he got before the window slammed shut and he was pushed out.

For the first time, he found himself stuck noticing her features. The sparkle of her eyes. The fullness of her cheeks. The smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

Cute.

But Brent didn’t do cute. Even more, he didn’t do locals. So what if she had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and a pink, pouty mouth that inspired the most wicked thoughts? He wasn’t interested. No sir.

Her lips parted and the faintest intake of breath echoed in his super sensitive ears.

The sound echoed in his head, rumbled down his spine and made a bee-line straight to his cock.

Okay, so he was interested. But he knew it wasn’t the lust that drew him. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on behind her closed expression, and how she managed it in the first place. No woman had ever shut him out before.

Except his new sister-in-law, that is. But Brent had always figured that had something to do with the fact that she’d been sucking face with his brother. She and Cody had exchanged blood and so she shared his strength. Translation? She wasn’t susceptible to another vampire’s influence.

But this woman didn’t draw her strength from another bloodsucker. It was all her own and damned if that fact didn’t turn him on in a major way.

She hadn’t had sex in a really long time.

It wasn’t a truth he read in her gaze. Rather one that he gauged in her reaction. The stiffening of her body, the rapid in and out of her breaths, the frantic pulse beating at the base of her neck.

He stiffened. “Why are you following me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was taking a drive and I saw your car on the side of the road. I thought you might have broken down.”

“I saw you back at the Dairy Freeze.”

“I like to drive after I eat. It helps the digestion.”

She killed the eye contact and cast a glance at his car. “So what’s up?” She rounded the front end and started to lift the hood. “Did you overheat?”

He rested a hand atop the metal and pushed it back down with a loud whackkkk! “You’re good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t even blink.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re feeding me a load of bullshit and most people blink when they do that. But you haven’t batted an eye.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m not lying.”

“Or maybe,” he rounded the car and stepped up to her, “you’re just really, really good at it.”

Abby had the sudden urge to step back. He was too close and he smelled too good and she was too freaked out by both. Particularly since she didn’t get freaked out. Ever. She kept her cool. Her focus. Her objective. Always.

Until now.

Until him.

“What are you really doing out here?” His deep voice slid into her ears and made her heart beat that much faster.

Her hands trembled and she stiffened, determined to get a grip and keep her mind on her mission. “I’m looking for a man.”

He regarded her for a few frantic heartbeats before a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That much I can help you with.” His meaning hit and a wave of heat swept through her.

“That’s not what I meant.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I’m looking for a specific man.”

“For a specific purpose?” He arched an eyebrow and her heart paused. He was playing with her. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in the deep timbre of his voice. “I’m a jack of all trades. Maybe I can help you out.”

Yeah, baby.

She ignored the frantic cry of her hormones and tried to remember the details of the story she’d worked out on the drive from San Antonio to Skull Creek. “I’m looking for my ex-boyfriend. We broke up last month and he moved back here. I think.” She didn’t sound half as convincing, but then that was the point. To play the sad, confused, pathetic ex-girlfriend and get the locals to talk to her. “One of his relatives passed on and left him quite a bit of money but the estate lawyer can’t seem to locate him.”

Something sparked in his gaze. “So you’re not from here?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got a place in Chicago, but I don’t see it much. My job keeps me busy.”

Sales. That’s what she was going to say when he asked what she did for a living. She’d been through enough interrogations to know that that was the next logical question.

“So what is it you’re after? A piece of the money, or do you still have a thing for him?”

“Sales.”

“Excuse me?”

Yeah, excuse me? Let him ask the question before you answer, dumbass. What are you thinking?

But she wasn’t thinking. Standing there, with the moonlight spilling down around them and his scent filling her nostrils, the only thing she could do was feel. The sweat trickling between her shoulder blades. The awareness rippling up and down her spine. The hollowness between her legs.