he was the father of her child.
No one must ever learn that secret. She would die before she’d lose her daughter to the mighty Pierce family.
“I’M SORRY, WHAT DID YOU SAY?”
Drew forced his attention back to Nancy and discovered she wasn’t the only one watching him with speculative eyes.
“I asked you if she was an old girlfriend,” Nancy said lightly.
“No. Just a friend.” Girlfriends were women you took to concerts or movies or parties. You did more with a girlfriend than talk with them and walk with them and buy them an ice-cream cone. Sadly, that pretty much summed up his relationship with Brianna. He’d never taken her anywhere—except on the public beach.
That memory still had the power to shame him.
He’d been twenty-four, stifled by his family and all the demands being placed on him. The year after Tasha’s death had been hard for all of them, and being home for an entire month that summer, at loose ends, edgy, angry, frustrated, he’d let Carey drag him to a party. He hadn’t wanted to attend. It had felt wrong to laugh and have fun when his sister was dead. But once he’d seen Brianna standing across the room, he hadn’t wanted to leave.
He’d definitely been a moth to the red-gold flame of her hair. He hadn’t known, then, she was his sister’s gawky, freckled-faced friend. There had been nothing gawky about Brianna that night. As if pulled by an invisible wire, he’d gone forward to cull her from the group, finding a relatively quiet corner where they could talk.
And talk they did. She was like no one he had ever met, laughing up at him with bright green eyes that sparkled with good-humored mischief.
Brianna. So vibrantly alive. The name had rippled in his mind, stirring the ghost of a memory, but he’d been too distracted to concentrate on anything besides her. She teased him over his stuffy manners, then vivaciously argued his family’s more conservative views. She was bright, witty and incredibly easy to talk to. Best of all, she wasn’t the least bit impressed at being in the company of a Pierce.
She had no idea what that alone was worth to him. She made him think, with her uncanny insight into people and actions. And she made him laugh—deep, honest laughter from the heart. And as the hours slipped away, he felt more freely alive than he had in a very long time.
She wouldn’t let him take her home. She wouldn’t give him her telephone number, not even when he used every ounce of his highly reputed charm. Brianna merely smiled. Drew had been convinced men would willingly die for that smile.
Shockingly, he’d wanted her, right there in the midst of that noisy crowd. He’d never had a jealous bone in his body until that night, but he realized he didn’t want her sparkling like that in front of all those other panting males. He cut them off with a look. Especially Carey. His friend’s reputation with women was legendary and Drew wanted Brianna all to himself.
He learned pathetically little about her that night. She was good at deflecting his questions. She was attending Heathrow College, determined to be a lawyer, but by the time she disappeared from the party, he’d wanted to know so much more. Brianna Dudley was a witch and Drew didn’t mind in the least being firmly under her spell.
Until Carey pointed out why her name was familiar. Brianna was Brie, his sister’s young friend! Since he hadn’t spent much time at home over the past several years, there was no reason for him to recognize the gorgeous young woman she’d become. She was a local girl who lived with her mother on the other side of town by the wharf. She was attending the prestigious local college, but only because she’d received a full scholarship.
Somehow, having been Tasha’s friend put Brianna out of bounds. But it didn’t stop his attraction. Despite his resolve, he couldn’t stay away from her. His family’s potential displeasure if they found out about the relationship probably played at least a small part in the fact that he continued to see her—on a purely platonic basis.
He spent lots of time eating pie at the Beachway Diner. Brie flirted lightly and so did he, glad she never took him seriously. That made it a little easier to ignore the enticing curves of her body and the way she always smelled so clean and fresh.
It had been much harder to ignore the play of lights gleaming in her enticing hair. Back then it had hung in shimmery red-gold curls nearly to her waist. Her hair had practically begged his hand to tangle in its flames. Drew spent a lot of time taking cold showers that summer while trying not to imagine how all that hair would look spread across his naked chest.
Physical attraction aside, Brie knew how to listen. He liked that about her. In fact, he liked everything about her.
He had a lot of respect for the goals she’d set. She was bright and eager with big plans for her life. Plans that didn’t include him, as she’d made perfectly clear the last time they had talked.
The memory was bitter even now. Not because she’d told him to get lost. He deserved much worse. He’d betrayed her trust. He’d betrayed his own honor. Worst, he’d hurt a valued friend.
Drew grit his teeth in regret. He couldn’t undo the past, but seeing her here today, he needed to understand. Why was Brie still serving customers instead of justice? What had become of all her dreams and plans? For some reason it felt important that he understand.
“Don’t let him kid you,” Carey was telling Nancy. “Drew had the hots for Brianna one summer. Then he found out she was just a kid. And from the wrong side of town at that.”
“She isn’t a kid anymore,” Nancy said.
“No. She sure isn’t,” Carey said thoughtfully.
Drew nearly leaned across the table with his fist. The primitive urge to turn that handsome face to pulp surprised him, particularly when it didn’t go away. He had to force his fingers to unclench.
“This is a very nice side of town,” Drew enunciated in a deadly soft tone of voice. “People who live over here don’t need expensive cars and lots of money to have a good time. They understand what’s really important.”
Carey blinked. His lips parted as the barb slid home. Zach perked up in his seat, alert to his brother’s shift in mood. Only Nancy appeared puzzled.
“Aw, hell.” Carey said. “You still have the hots for her, don’t you?”
“Don’t say another word, Carey.”
Carey clamped his mouth closed. Drew slid out of the booth and stood.
“Where are you going?” Nancy asked in concern.
“I need some air.”
“But you haven’t eaten yet.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Please sit down, Drew. We don’t want a scene. And we didn’t come here for the food, anyhow, if you’ll recall.”
He stepped out of reach of the hand she moved toward him. “No scenes. And there’s nothing wrong with my memory. I just don’t feel like campaigning right now. Excuse me.”
He strode outside without looking back. He was very much afraid if he did, he’d give in to his desire to grab Carey and use his friend’s face to relieve some of the tension roaring inside him.
Hazy, late afternoon heat shimmered in the air. The boardwalk teemed with people. From skimpy scraps of material daring to be called bathing suits, to the colorful garb worn by a local fortune-teller, people strolled and chatted gaily—in direct contrast to his somber mood.
Wheels, a bar a few doors down, opened to disgorge a tall black man in a biker uniform. Music blared at decibels that couldn’t possibly be good for the human ear. Drew changed direction. A cold beer suddenly appealed far more than a club sandwich and fries.
The biker gave him a hard stare. Drew’s expression must have been as fierce as his thoughts, because the man deliberately flexed his fingers and waited. Anticipation