Page 23 of Rekindled Heat

Brandy comes out of the bathroom with a towel around her body, and for a moment, I'm distracted, but I'm stronger than that.

"That was, ah—Mrs. Jones. She says she's got a spot for you in her apprenticeship."

"Oh, that's great!"

"I thought you were already doing it."

Her face pales, and she knows she's been caught in a lie. Just how many things has she lied to me about?

"No, she didn't have any dates available for me at the beginning of my stay. I've been waiting for an opportunity like this one, but it wasn't a sure thing. I might not have gotten in at all during my time here."

"Did you lie to me? I mean, what have you been doing all this time?"

"I've been working on some custom quilts and giving classes at the community center."

"Why didn't you just tell me that? Why the subterfuge?"

She sits down at the edge of the bed and plays with the ends of the towel she's wearing. Her head is lowered, and I wonder if her next words will be the truth or another lie.

"I needed a good enough reason so you'd let me stay here for the three months."

"Why three months?"

"That's just a random number. I needed to spend time with you."

"Why?"

"It's been twelve years, Erik. I couldn't wait for you any longer. I had to come here and see you—be with you. You are the love of my life."

"So your intent all this time was to seduce me?"

"Don't you dare put that on me. We've both been flirting. The connection we have been feeling comes from both of us."

"You need to leave."

"What? You don't mean that. Erik, we have something between us. It's big, and it's real. Don't throw that away."

"Was my mother in on this?"

She lowers her eyes again, and I know I've caught her. I'm going to kill my mother for this.

"Your mother knows how I feel about you…"

"You don't even know me, Brandy. I'm a different person than the boy you knew."

"We've gotten to know each other pretty well these past few weeks. I like the man you are now much better than that boy from back home."

"I still need you to go. I should have known you were up to one of your schemes. That's no way to start a life together."

Her face shows many things. Shock, disillusionment, resignation. I school my own features so that she sees nothing of the heartache I'm living right now. The need to put space between us is too much to bear, so I turn around and leave my room. One place that can give me solace is my home office, so I go there and serve myself a stiff drink.

Why do I feel like I'm being unnecessarily cruel right now? I'm not the one who lied and manipulated. No, I'm the victim here. I got played by the small-town girl. Does it matter that she's the perfect woman for me? That even with my anger, I can't help but want to put my arms around her because she's distraught right now.

What hurts the most are those words I said to her, 'That's no way to start a life together.' That's what I had been dreaming about—our future together, a life as husband and wife, kids, the whole nine yards. I've never felt like this for another woman, which makes it hurt more after I find out about the deception.

After a few drinks, I do something that one should never do drunk. I call my mother. The phone rings a couple of times, and then she answers, her good mood clear in her tone.

"My sweet boy, it's so good to hear from you."