Chapter Six

Brielle

It is almost six o'clock before I make it back to my house, and my head is reeling from the day's very strange turn of events. The day had, as I expected, been awkward - but not in the way I envisioned.

Other than a couple of searing glances thrown my way in my front lobby, there was no spark between Allen and me all day long.

Not one.

As a matter of fact, it sure seemed like he didn't want to be anywhere near me. He couldn't get away from me fast enough, I realize as I move to my kitchen where my stalwart hero, Moscato, beckons to me.

"I just don’t get it," I mutter as I pour. "Could've sworn the other night on the phone that there was a connection."

Man, had I been completely - hopelessly - misguided in that notion.

Well, at least I know for sure now that it was one-sided, I admit to myself with a sad sigh. Sexy voice and good looking, but kind of a jackass. Go figure.

The saving grace of the day had been that Allen - Mr. Jones, I auto-correct in my head - found both a residence and a commercial property here in Pantego that he wishes to buy. Our afternoon together had wrapped with him brusquely telling me to move forward with offers on each.

Closing my eyes, I recount the last moments before he got back in his truck and drove away from me…

I extend my hand, and he hesitates, then slowly wraps his strong fingers around mine.

The instant we touch I feel something spring to life between us, a massive surge of connection that raises gooseflesh on me from head to toe. I suppress a gasp, my eyes widening in surprise, and glance up at his face to see if he feels it as well. And I see the briefest glimpse of… something… causing his blue-grey eyes to darken as they look back into mine.

Then he abruptly drops my hand, takes one step back, and the moment is gone, vanished into thin air like it had never happened.

"Let me know when I need to sign closing papers," he states solemnly, his eyes blank, the look on his face indecipherable.

I nod silently, still trying to process everything I am feeling in that moment as he turns on his heel, gets into his truck, and drives away like his very life depends on putting as much distance as possible between us…

"Well, no worries about treating him as just another client, I suppose," I acknowledge now, attempting to cheer myself up as I refill my glass.

After all, that's what I wanted, was to keep things professional. Right?

Right.

Wineglass in hand, I move to my bathroom and begin to fill my garden tub. I take down my ponytail and am brushing out my hair when a small voice in my head pipes up with a random - and unwanted - observation.

Okay, then. So why does his rejection sting so much?

As I undress and sink into the steamy water, I am dismayed to realize I have no good answer to that question.

***

Forty minutes later I get a call from Mari.

"So," she begins in a sing-song voice, "how did today go? Is he handsome?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. Too bad he's also a jackass," I tell her honestly.

"What? Why? What happened?"

I sigh, then fill her in on how my day went.

"Oh. That sucks," she commiserates, and although she can't see me, I nod along in agreement.

"Yep," I exhale heavily. "It is what it is."

"But hey, look on the bright side. You now know you are capable of being attracted to someone again. It's a good thing, Bri."

That's my Mari, always 'sunny side up' for me.

What she doesn't realize is that I have zero intention of unleashing my newly returned 'ability'. I am much better off alone, especially if all it nets me is disappointment like it did today.

I will help Mr. Jones acquire his new home and commercial space like I said I would, and then I am done.

Good riddance, I think to myself, knowing somewhere deep down that only part of me means it.

Allen

I am a complete idiot. There are no two ways about it. And an asshole, to boot.

I only meant to keep Brielle at arm's length, that's it. Just to keep from succumbing to temptation. Instead, I swung too far the other direction and was a complete jerk to her all day.

I was so effective, in fact, that even if I did decide to pursue something with her, I think I have officially blown any chance I might have had.

I am still amazed that Brielle didn't just toss me the list of properties and walk away at one point. She could have. By all rights, she should have.

But she didn't. She kept her cool despite my clipped, icy tone and generally rude behavior.

I bang the steering wheel in frustration.

Because at the very end of the exceptionally long, tense day I put her through, she stuck out her hand to say farewell. And when I touched her, I felt the universe shift all around us, through us, like some long-missing puzzle piece finally clicked into place. The want - the need - sparked between us like St. Elmo's fire.

I can still hear her drawing her breath in sharply, her intense gaze drifting its focus upward to meet mine. I can still see the fire of raw longing swirling in those emerald-green depths.

It took everything I had to step back, not forward to take her into my arms and kiss her like she's never been kissed before.

And to top it off, I barked orders at her then ran away as fast as I could.

It's a drive filled with shame all the way back to Austin.

I did the right thing, I stubbornly insist to myself as I crawl into bed, choosing to ignore the growing sense of loss that took root the moment I left Brielle standing by her car in downtown Pantego.

A ping from my laptop has me up and out of the bed that I am failing to fall asleep in. When I open my emails and see a new one from Brielle, my heart picks up its pace all on its own.

But as I read the message that she sent me it is crystal clear I did too much damage; I have never seen a more cold, impersonal narrative. A stiff, formal salutation followed by the offers I asked her to put together and ending with instructions detailing the next steps in the process.

All business, even her signature - B. Cerver.

As I deserve.

But that was what you wanted, right?

So why are you unhappy?

I ponder that question the rest of the night, and the breaking dawn finds me still searching for the answer.