Night Watch. Suzanne BrockmannЧитать онлайн книгу.
and said, ‘Lana told me.’” There was still shock and disbelief in his eyes. “All this time, I’m protecting Lana from the truth, protecting Wizard, too, and it turns out she knew.”
“My ex-husband was like Wizard,” Brittany told him. “He couldn’t keep his pants zipped. You learn to recognize the signs.”
“Just now, when I was talking to her on the phone, I wanted to ask her about it. I mean, why is she still with him? But what was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Lana, so when’d you find out you’ve been sharing the Wiz with dozens of other women and why the hell do you put up with that?’”
“Maybe she hopes he’ll change,” Britt suggested. “Of course, if she does hope that, then she’s a fool. Men like that don’t change.”
Britt understood Wes’s confusion. Lana had to know that Wes could be hers with a snap of her fingers and a short trip to a surgical specialist—a divorce attorney who could remove her malingering growth of a husband from her otherwise healthy life.
It was so obvious that Wes would be like a pit bull when it came to a relationship. He would never be unfaithful. Boy, he couldn’t even be unfaithful to Wizard, in terms of their friendship.
Brittany had no doubt that Wes was going to love Lana until the end of time.
She was envious. If Lana got her head on straight and ditched Wizard for Wes, she was going to have that same, rare happily ever after that Melody and Jones had found.
“So now you know way more about me than you wanted to, huh?” Wes said with a rueful laugh. He stood up. “Well, at least I didn’t smoke for three days.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Britt stood up, too, and blocked his way into the living room. “You are not going out to buy cigarettes. You are quitting. Even if I have to go buy a nicotine patch and stick it on you myself.”
That got a smile and a trace of sparkle back into his eyes. “That might be fun.”
“It goes on your arm,” she told him as he kept moving toward her. She kept backing up, too, all the way through the living room, until she bumped into the door. As she hit it, she spread her arms, as if sealing it closed. As if that would keep him from leaving. “I’m a nurse, remember? I know these things.”
“I’m dying for a cigarette,” he admitted.
“So what?” Brittany said. “There’re lots of other things in this world that you can’t have, either.” Including Lana. “Suck it up, Skelly.”
The door opened behind her with no small amount of force, whacking her hard on the derriere and pushing her forward. It was like being hit by a linebacker. She tripped on the throw rug and would have landed on her face if Wes hadn’t moved to catch her.
Brittany was nearly Wes’s height and she would’ve bet big money that his jeans had a smaller waist size than hers. But despite that, despite his being slight of stature and seemingly slender, the man was solid muscle. She didn’t even come close to knocking him over. But as a result of his catching her, she couldn’t have stood any closer to him if she’d tried.
At least not with their clothes on.
While Wes had caught her, she’d caught herself by grabbing him, too, and as Andy stood looking at them now from the front door, she had to unwrap her arms from around Wes’s neck.
“Oops. Sorry.” Andy started to leave, closing the door behind him.
“Wait!” Brittany untangled herself from Wes and pulled the door open. “I was just keeping Wes from buying cigarettes.”
Andy laughed. “Well, that’s one effective way to do it.”
Wes laughed, too. “I wish. But she was actually standing right in front of the door. You almost knocked her over, kid.”
“Sorry.” Andy didn’t sound sorry at all. In fact, he sounded entirely too cheerful. But it was definitely forced.
Brittany searched his face, wondering if he and Dani had patched things up.
“You’re staying here again tonight, right?” he asked Wes. “I mean, I hope you’ll stay again tonight. I was hoping we could maybe, I don’t know. Shoot some baskets or something.”
In guy-speak, or at least in Andy-speak, shoot some baskets meant talk.
And talking—man to man—was something Brittany couldn’t give to Andy. She turned to Wes. “Please stay.”
“Actually,” Wes said, “I spoke to my credit card company. They’re overnighting a new card to me care of a Mailboxes Plus office here in L.A. But I won’t get it until tomorrow. So I was hoping—”
“Terrific,” Brittany told him. “And actually, you can stay for as long as you like. Save the money you’d spend on a hotel, as long as you don’t mind sleeping on the couch. Just chip in a little for groceries.” She looked at Andy, unable to keep herself from asking. “Is everything all right? Did you see Dani?”
“Nah, she’s gone.” He was almost too flip, too unconcerned. Which meant he was terribly hurt. “She packed up her all her stuff and cleared out of her dorm room.” He laughed, but it sounded a little too harsh. “Apparently, after spending the past six months talking me into taking things slowly, she really did sleep with Dustin Melero.”
And what could Brittany possibly say to that?
Wes swore softly.
Andy went into the kitchen, apparently determined to move on. “What’s for dinner?”
He didn’t want to talk about Dani. Not now. Maybe not ever—not with Britt. But maybe it was part of the guy stuff he wanted to discuss with Wes.
She hoped so. “You tell me. It’s your turn to cook.” She followed Andy, pushing Wes ahead of her. “No cigarettes,” she told Wes sternly. “You can get through one more day.”
Andy put his backpack down on the kitchen table and opened the refrigerator. “Tonight we dine on…pasta.”
“Wow! What a surprise. You know, I just got some chicken. We could light the grill and—”
“You guys want to go out for dinner?” Wes interrupted. “Like in about an hour? Because I’ve been invited to this party where there’s going to be a buffet. The downside is we’ll have to get dressed up. But I’ve got to go check out Amber’s security system and I kind of promised I’d do it tonight.”
“Amber?” Andy asked. If he were a dog, his ears would have pricked up.
“Amber Tierney,” Wes told him. “Want to come to a party at her house tonight?”
Andy laughed, his enthusiasm a little more genuine. “Yeah. She’s only the hottest woman in America. You actually know her?”
“Amber’s sister—half sister, really—is a pretty good friend of mine.”
“Don’t you have homework?” Brittany asked Andy.
He looked at her. “Don’t you?”
“Of course.” She smiled. “Race ya to see how much of it we can get done in the next forty-five minutes.”
Andy grabbed his bag and bolted for his bedroom. “I don’t have a lot—the baseball team’s going to Phoenix tomorrow, remember?”
Brittany wasn’t too far behind him. “Race ya anyway.”
“I guess that’s a yes,” she heard Wes say as she closed her door.
Chapter 5
There was no doubt about it. Wes was certain that a picture of Amber Tierney’s house was going into the next edition of Webster’s dictionary—right next to the definition for pretentious.
How much house—it was a castle, really—did