Playing with Dynamite. Leanne Banks

to want a man to share her life with, and a baby. According to five books she’d read in the last few months, there was no reason she couldn’t have what she wanted. It just took a little strategy and a lot of practicality, starting with the end of her non-relationship with Brick.

      She looked at the sets of sheets in her linen closet and felt a strange tug. Brick had made love to her on every single set except one. Desperately fighting back a wave of melancholy, she unwrapped the brand-new sheets and put them on her queen-size bed. She took a shower in an attempt to delete the memory of his most recent possession of her.

      Her teeth brushed and hair dried, Lisa turned off the light and slipped beneath the covers. The sheets were crisp to the point of scratchy. Her head ached from the too-sweet scent of the air freshener. Her eyes burned from holding back tears. Her stomach felt sick with regret. And her heart, oh Lord, her heart just plain hurt.

      Suddenly, it was too much. She closed her eyes against hot tears spilling down her cheeks. Her body jerked from a broken sob. She’d known it was going to hurt, but she’d never dreamed she’d feel ripped apart. All her spraying and washing might get rid of Brick on the outside. But how, she wondered, could she get rid of him on the inside?

      Three weeks later, Lisa went out with Mark, a nice, quiet tax attorney who would probably make someone a fine husband. Although she didn’t feel the faintest spark of attraction toward him, Lisa was determined to keep an open mind. After seeing a movie, they went to the bar where she’d first met Brick. She was uneasy from the moment she set foot in the place. She’d done her best to avoid Brick and the places they’d frequented.

      Her skin buzzing with trepidation, she ordered a Margarita to calm her nerves. An odd mix of disappointment and relief fell over her when she didn’t see Brick, and she made idle conversation with the oh-so-serious tax attorney. Spotting a business associate, her date excused himself. In his absence, Lisa stared at the table and easily recalled the dozens of reasons why she’d always hated first dates.

      “How’ve you been, Lisa?”

      The low, husky voice jerked her attention away from the tabletop. Lisa stared at Brick, taking in his tousled brown hair and questioning eyes.

      The memory of the first moment they’d met hit her like a cyclone. He carried his size with masculine ease. That was the first thing that had impressed her. She’d had a difficult time keeping her gaze off of him as he stood across the room at the bar. And she’d been shocked when he’d looked back. Not surprisingly, there’d been a woman standing beside him trying to get his attention. He’d been distantly polite while he finished his bottle of beer and kept his gaze trained on Lisa.

      Lisa had grown so uncomfortable that she’d deliberately looked away and thought about making her excuses to her friends and leaving. When he’d shown up beside her table with a smile that said, “I’m harmless,” and violet eyes that said, “You’re mine,” it was all she could do to breathe, let alone speak.

      Tonight, the violet eyes said the same thing, but there was no playful, harmless grin. She didn’t know if it was fear, passion or insanity, but her pulse skipped into double time.

      He wore a white shirt open at the neck, the sleeves casually folded up. The light color emphasized his tan and brought her attention to his throat where, she’d learned, he was a little ticklish. They used to play a game where she nuzzled his neck with kisses and he would try not to laugh. She allowed her gaze to fall to his strong forearms. How many times had he lifted her and carried her as if she weighed no more than a child?

      Not anymore.

      Lisa sucked in a quick breath and felt the cork pop on all the emotions she’d stuffed down inside her. For one horrifying moment, she felt the strangest urge to cry.

      Appalled at the thought, she swallowed hard, cleared her throat and recalled that he’d asked her a question. “I’ve been fine,” she managed. “And you?”

      He shrugged. “Busy at work. I called you a few times and got your answering machine.” He hooked his foot on the platform where her table was located and leaned closer.

      His position cut off the rest of the room and somehow made their conversation seem more intimate. Lisa shifted slightly away. “Yes, well—”

      “My sister owns a riverboat down in Beulah County. She’s having a get-together for my six brothers, and I’d like you to come.”

      “I didn’t know you had a sister and six brothers,” she said, dismayed that the small piece of personal information should affect her so.

      “I guess I never got around to telling you. Would it have mattered?”

      Would it have? Lisa faltered. She’d always sensed Brick kept his life strictly divided into different areas that rarely overlapped. He’d shared a little about his job with her, but nothing about his family. That had hurt. It had been one more piece of evidence that he wasn’t serious about her. “I don’t know.”

      “Listen, Lisa, I’ve been thinking. A lot.” He put his hand over hers and stared intently into her eyes. His voice deepened. “I’ve been missing you a lot too.”

      Lisa’s heart pounded against her rib cage.

      “We had something damn good, and it seems like it was over in less than a minute. We called it off without looking at the possibilities.”

      Lisa could feel herself sinking under his spell again, and she knew what would happen if she did. Just the touch of his hand made her tremble, and the look in his eyes could melt steel. If she followed her heart, she’d end up in bed with him within thirty minutes. It would be incredible sex. Her breasts tightened at the mere thought of it. After it was over, however, Brick would stall any deep discussions, and she’d feel emotionally frustrated.

      “I don’t think—” She broke off, feeling both relieved and uneasy when she spotted Mark on his way back to the table. “There’s my date.”

      Brick’s gaze widened. “Date?”

      Lisa pasted a smile on her face and eased her hand from Brick’s. “Mark Lawford, this is Brick Pendleton. He’s a—a—”

      Both men gazed at her expectantly.

      “He’s a demolition expert,” she finished weakly.

      Brick stared at Lisa in disbelief.

      “Well, how about that,” Mark said, extending his hand. “You blow up buildings for a living?”

      Brick tore his gaze away from Lisa and shook Mark’s hand. “Not really. I used to do more work blasting foundations,” he said, still blindsided by how Lisa had described him. Demolition expert. Not ex-lover, friend or the man who knew every inch of her body. He took a slow, deep breath. Brick prided himself on his great sense of humor, but his grin felt a little forced by the time he got to it. “I only use explosives every now and then. Most of my work is done with machinery.”

      “That must be something. Hey, you want to join us? I’ll buy you a drink, and you can tell us some of your war stories.”

      Brick slid a glance over to Lisa. She gave a quick, desperate shake of her head. He hesitated. If he were a nice, polite guy, he’d excuse himself, but he wasn’t feeling particularly polite right now. He slid into a chair directly opposite Lisa. “Sounds good to me. I’ll take a beer and tell you as many stories as you want.”

      Over the next hour, Brick shared a few tales with Mark and Lisa. He noticed that Lisa avoided his gaze, and every time she did, he struggled with the perverse urge to do something to get her attention. Brick couldn’t see Lisa getting serious about Mark, but, then, he couldn’t see Lisa getting serious about anyone but himself. And he refused to consider the prospect of another man in her bed.

      He shifted slightly and his knee bumped hers. She drew back and dodged his gaze again. Brick felt a lick of impatience and sipped his beer. “So what movie did y’all go see?”

      Mark named an action flick, and Lisa toyed with her watch.