Brandon set her down on the sofa in the lobby at the entrance of the building. “I’ll go get your things,” he said as soon as she un-wrapped her arms from around his neck.
Gulping hard, he walked away before he could get caught up in the eyes he needed to stop thinking about, even when they weren’t in front of him.
As he reached the stairs where she’d fallen, he picked up her purse and began putting the spilled contents into it. After picking up several makeup items, he noticed her open wallet at the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t mean to be nosey, but it was open to a photo of her and two other women standing around an older guy. The other women looked about her age. Going by the resemblances they all shared, he presumed these were her sisters, and the way they all touched the man’s shoulders so endearingly, he assumed this was Daddy. If it was, this blew his theory about her dad possibly being Irish—a Brady. The man in the photo looked every bit as Hispanic as she did.
Why was he even going there?
Holding the photo still in front of him, he couldn’t stop looking at it. He focused on something else now. They all looked so happy. He stared at that smile and her sparkling eyes. It was almost maddening. All these years, he’d managed to remain immune to and kept that part of him—the part that might actually feel emotions—completely sedated. He couldn’t allow a sweet smile and a pair of dark captivating eyes to wake that part of him. He’d so effortlessly managed to snuff it to its death, or so he thought, for so long he didn’t think he’d ever have to worry about it.
Clenching his jaw, he lifted the photo only to see another one of Ms. Brady behind it. Once again, Brandon felt drawn to her eyes. In the second photo, she was alone, her face very fresh as if she’d just gotten out of the shower. Even with no makeup, she was stunning. It was such a simple photo of her, sitting cross-legged in the middle of a bed, wearing an oversized white T-shirt, but unlike the other smiling photo, in this one she wasn’t smiling at all. She was staring at the camera with her head tilted, looking almost angry.
Brandon smiled, remembering the fuming yet adorable glare he’d been indulged with when he’d asked her for her name earlier. He still didn’t understand why seeing that glint of fire in her eyes, especially when directed at him, amused him so. Even this less-enchanting portrait did just that: enchant him in a way that scared him. He shouldn’t be feeling anything for her. He didn’t know her, and he didn’t want to get to know her—he shouldn’t.
A buzzing sound pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned around to search for the source of the noise. The screen on a cell phone at the bottom of the staircase lit up. He walked over to pick it up and read the screen: Incoming call—Antonio.
Remembering her sweet conversation in the elevator with someone named Antonio, who she apparently worked with in this same building, another alarm went off. He’d chalked up the irritation he’d felt that day when he listened to her on the phone to his irritation with her in general. The fact that Antonio had done something for her that warranted a very grateful thank you from her was only further proof of the kind of princess she was. It reminded him of how irritated he’d been just the other day when he’d seen her talking and laughing with one of her co-workers. She’d only been working at this place for a little over a week, and already she’d had these guys seemingly smitten.
Ignoring what seeing Antonio’s name on her phone screen did to him, he tossed the phone into her purse and gathered the rest of her stuff. It took him a few minutes to find her second shoe, because it was way up on the upper steps, not at the bottom like everything else. He walked up and shoved it in her purse, glad it was big enough to hold both shoes, and started back down.
She was holding her leg out in front of her with a grimace, trying to move the ankle as he approached her.
“Don’t do that.”
Even her startled expression was enough to make him want to smile—something that up until lately he didn’t do often. Being a drill instructor for so many years, he’d just fallen into the habit of hiding any kind of amusing emotions. Good and bad, Ms. Brady was bringing them all out of him. He remembered how impossible it’d been to hide the annoyance he’d felt that he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her Friday night at the restaurant. Her continued staring at him the way she had with such interest and more, had him questioning if maybe getting to know her better might not be such a bad idea. That could not happen. He’d been so desperate to end what he was feeling—what she might be feeling—he did something he so rarely did and engaged in a public display of affection by kissing the girl he’d met only an hour earlier.
“It might be broken,” she said almost through her teeth. “It’s really hurting bad now.”
Brandon put her purse down next to her. “I think I got it all.” He knelt down in front of her then lifted her injured ankle gently. She immediately gasped at his touch. “Sorry.”
“No, you didn’t hurt me.” She laughed softly. “I was just bracing myself.”
Like earlier, he lost the battle and smiled. Looking up at her pained but laughing mood despite her injury, he just couldn’t help himself. As soon as he smiled, he saw the same thing in her eyes he’d seen earlier—an almost bewildered gaze—and there was something so sweet about it he had to look away.
He focused on her ankle instead. Trying to ignore her dainty, painted-pink toes, his eyes traveled to the upper right hand side of the top of her foot and the small heart tattoo. A picture of an open book with the words Uni & Boot was inside of the heart. Draped around the heart so it looked almost like a vine hanging off the heart were the words: Together forever.