“I’m very happy to hear that. Can I pick you up at eight?”
After she gave him directions, she smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
And she actually meant it.
…
Smoothing down the fabric of her blue wrap dress, Julie walked into the living room. She’d changed her outfit five times. Casual. Dressy. Seductive. Until she’d finally settled on a combination of all three.
The dress stopped about four inches above her knees and had a deep V-line down the front that created an enticing display of her cleavage. But the three-quarter sleeves kept the dress modest. Sort of. She’d slipped on a pair of black heels and curled her dark hair so it was full and bouncy instead of straight like she usually wore it. And she’d chosen to go with the smoky-eyes look.
She looked hot. More important, she felt hot.
One last thing, and she’d be ready for Brody to pick her up. Where had she put her purse?
Spotting it on the couch, she leaned over the back and reached for the strap. A noise that sounded like someone choking came from behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Tommy standing in the kitchen doorway, a sandwich held in his hand, scowling at her.
When she straightened and turned around, his nose crunched up in distaste. “Where are you going dressed like that?”
“I have a date.”
If his head had jerked back any farther it would’ve snapped right off. “A date?” Then his gaze roamed over hers again and his scowl deepened. “That outfit.” He vigorously scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. I wouldn’t wear that.”
“Why not? This dress is hot.” She held her hands out in front of her breasts. “I’m showing them off. Isn’t that what guys like?”
If anything, Tommy blanched even more as his throat convulsed on a swallow, his gaze straying down before he jerked it back up and over her head. Good lord, the man even refused to admit she had boobs.
She put her hands on her hips. “You may see me as a sister, Tommy, but let me assure you I am a red-blooded woman. And no matter what you think, I am fuckable to other men.”
His eyes snapped to hers, something dangerous darkening their green depths as he took a step closer. “Is that what you want, Julie? To be fucked?”
Having Tommy ask her such a bold question left her completely breathless, and all she could do was gape at him as he took another step toward her.
“I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for. So you need to change.” He said the last sentence slowly, calmly, but his face was anything but. It was tight—except for a vein pulsing in his forehead.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She shook her finger at him. “You are not going to pull the big brother act on me, Tommy Sparks! Last night you were all worried about how much I stayed in, and now you’re pissed because I’m going out? I don’t think so.”
“Is that what this is about? Did you ask the first guy you saw this morning to go out because of last night? I am not okay with that.”
Her mouth popped open. “I don’t care what you’re okay with. And for the record, I didn’t ask him, he asked me, and I thought he was pretty damn hot, so I said yes.”
“Going out with strange men isn’t very smart.”
She shook her head. “Oh my God, you’re driving me crazy. Besides, you know him, so he’s not a stranger.”
“What do you mean, I know him?”
The doorbell rang. “You’re about to see.”
She hurried to the door and opened it. Brody wore black slacks with a deep purple silk button-down shirt. His longish dark hair was combed and styled away from his face. Deep caramel brown eyes gazed down at her as a low whistle came from his chiseled mouth.
Could the man be more opposite of Tommy, who had done everything but give her a compliment? Jerk.
“You look gorgeous,” Brody said admiringly.
She smiled. “Thank you. Pretty damn hot yourself.”
A low grumble came from behind her and she shot Tommy a withering look.
“Brody.” Tommy came to stand directly behind her, his chest pressing into the back of one of her shoulders. She sent him another glare.
“Tommy.” Brody glanced between the two of them before he offered his hand, which Tommy took, albeit reluctantly. “Been a while. How have you been?”
“Just peachy. You?”
Brody was either oblivious to the snarky tone Tommy was using or chose to ignore it, because he simply shrugged and said, “Can’t complain.” He cleared his throat. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“I live here.” He placed an arm around her shoulder in that familiar brotherly way he did, and she rolled her eyes.
“He lives here temporarily.” When his fingers bit into her skin, she jabbed him hard in the stomach. She wouldn’t tell anyone about his house. That was his business. Not Brody’s. “He’s getting some remodeling done and needed a place to stay.”
“Well, that’s nice of you.”
She smiled at Tommy through clamped teeth. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this man.