Wrapped Up in You Read online

  This got him a response. Her eyes flashed with emotion. He just wasn’t sure which one.

  “You don’t understand,” she finally said.

  “Then help me understand.”

  She went stubbornly mute, grabbed her clothes from his hands, and turned her back to him.

  When the front door shut behind Kel five minutes later, Ivy dropped her forehead to the wood and took a second to get her bearings.

  Easier said than done.

  Her bathroom had enough standing room for one person, so it’d been cramped quarters as she and Kel had dressed in silence in there. A silence complicated by bare skin brushing bare skin, emotions still high from what they’d shared in her bed, and the adrenaline rush of her brother’s untimely arrival.

  Brandon.

  Of course he’d shown up when he had. Because he’d made it his lifelong mission to make her life as difficult as possible.

  Kel had instantly recognized she’d been telling tall tales about her brother. He’d been kind enough—or pissed off enough—not to press the issue right then. But he’d swing back to it later, she was quite certain.

  Or maybe not. Maybe he’d decide to wash his hands of the crazy chick. She certainly wouldn’t blame him.

  Having no choice but to regroup and face one problem at a time, she drew a deep breath and turned to her brother.

  “Sleeping with a cop? You’ve stepped up in the world.”

  “Why are you here?”

  He cocked his head. “It was interesting to see the way you look at him though, when you don’t think he’s noticing. He makes you happy. Not a look I’ve seen on you much.”

  “He and I barely know each other,” she said. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Happy’s good, Ivy,” Brandon said quietly, voice genuine. “It’s not easy to find, not for people like us.”

  “It’s not like that,” she said.

  “Hey, whatever you say.”

  She was not in the mood for this. Only a little bit ago, she’d been in Kel’s arms with him deep inside her, reminding her what passion and hunger and desire felt like.

  This, with Brandon, was a cold bucket of water, bringing back memories and feelings she thought she’d long ago put behind her. “It was you who stole from my truck and broke in here the other night, wasn’t it?”

  “Of course not.”

  She stared him down, doing her best to ignore certain facts. Like one, dammit, damn him, he was looking at her like she was somebody worth caring about, like he’d actually truly missed her. And then there was the undeniable fact that no matter what she wanted to tell herself, she’d grown up with him, been in the trenches with him. She knew him better than anyone, and knew that she’d been the only person ever able to ground him. To hold him accountable. To encourage him to stay on the right path.

  Which he clearly hadn’t. He had a hollow look to him, and a haunted one as well. He was too thin, like he hadn’t been eating enough for weeks, maybe months, and he had what appeared to be a healing black eye and was favoring his right arm.

  “How did you get hurt?” she asked.

  “Fell down a set of stairs,” he said on a shrug.

  Her stomach tightened at the age-old anxiety over worrying about him and the trouble that followed him around like a bad cold. She moved to the front door and opened it, gesturing with a jerk of her chin that he should go.

  He dropped his head and stared at his shoes for a long beat. When he lifted his head again, he shook his head. “Fine. I didn’t fall down the stairs.”

  All this did was cement the anxiety in her gut. “This is why I dread your visits. I’m sorry you’ve found yourself some new trouble, but you’ve got to go.”

  “Ivy—”

  “Why did you leave my fridge in the truck open? I had to throw away all the food.”

  His eyes revealed a quick flash of regret. “I’m sorry,” he said very quietly. “I was starving and in a hurry. I was being followed.”

  “Followed by who? And why are you even here?”

  He locked her front door. Then slid the security chain in place. “It’s a long story.”

  “So start talking,” she said, watching as he then moved to her windows and lowered the shades. “You’re scaring me.”

  “You have no reason to be scared, you’ve got a big ape outside, ready to beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you.” He turned to face her. “I need two things.”

  “No.”

  “A place to stay tonight,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “And . . .” He winced. “Okay, keep an open mind here, alright? I need to borrow some money.”

  “No and no,” she said. “Besides, look around. I don’t have any money.”

  He gave her a long look. “Since when do we lie to each other?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve been snooping.”

  “Enough to know you have a deep savings account.”

  “That’s the down payment on a condo I’m buying.”

  “A condo. Sounds a little fancy for us Snows.”

  That it was actually true made her defensive. “I want a home to call my own. I’ve always wanted that.”

  “I know.” His voice had softened. “You always have more hope and faith than I did.”

  “Not hope and faith. It’s called effing hard work, Brandon. If you used your powers for good instead of for fun, you could have whatever you wanted.”

  “So this condo. Tell me about it.”

  “It’s a secure building, so I can stop being paranoid,” she said. “The kitchen’s . . . glorious. And there’re great amenities, a gym, business center, pool . . .”

  He smiled. “Sounds like it suits you.”

  “It does.”

  “I’m going to hope you’ve got room in your heart for both your fancy, new condo and for your brother.”

  She sighed.

  “Can I stay?”

  “You do remember last time, right? Two years ago when I was living in LA? You showed up and needed a place to stay. The next morning you were gone. And so was the money in my wallet and the cash I had in my hiding spot.”

  “Ivy, under the mattress isn’t a hiding spot for cash. It’s where you’re supposed to keep the sex toys.”

  She pointed to the door. “Get out.”

  “Please, Ivy. It’s an emergency.”

  She stared at him, trying to get a read on all he wasn’t saying. But other than looking pretty serious at the moment—extremely unlike him—he wasn’t revealing much. “What will happen if I kick you out right now?” she asked.

  “Besides your boyfriend giving me the third degree when I hit the street? You don’t want to know.”

  Dammit. She shook her head. “One night, that’s it, no money. And I want Aunt Cathy’s necklace back.”

  “You won’t regret it,” he said with clear relief. “What was for dinner?”

  “I’m going to shower but there’s food in the fridge.”

  Thirty minutes later she came out of the steamed up bathroom and stopped in surprise. Her brother was vacuuming. And by the looks of things, he’d also tidied up, including cleaning the kitchen. “Why are you here?”

  He flashed her a sweet smile. “Made you some hot chocolate.”

  “Did you steal anything?” she asked him suspiciously.

  “Not yet,” he said with a look of innocence that she knew could fool the pope.

  Great. So he’d been looking for something else of hers to sell for cash. Moving to a window, she pulled the shades aside and looked down to the street. Kel’s truck was still at the curb. He’d meant it. It wasn’t often that someone told her something and followed through or kept their word, so it was still a novelty.

  Was he sleeping?

  If not for their untimely interruption, they might’ve slept the entire night together, wrapped up tight and warm in each other. She’d never wanted such a thing before, but the idea of it with Kel sent shocking waves of yearning through her.