The Creed Legacy Read Free Page B

all. It shouldn’t have bothered Carolyn, either, she supposed, since almost eight years had passed since they were together- together. And what they’d shared amounted to a tryst, not an affair of the heart.
    Be that as it may, every time she encountered this man—a recurring problem now that his brother was married to one of her closest friends—she wanted to flee.
    “Is my sister-in-law around?” Brody asked, well aware, Carolyn would have bet, that he’d rattled her.
    Carolyn swallowed hard. Once, when she’d been on a trail ride with Conner and Tricia and a number of their friends and neighbors, Brody and his now-and-then girlfriend, Joleen Williams, had raced past on horseback, their laughter carried by the wind. Carolyn, taken by surprise, had played the fool by bolting for the barn, without so much as a goodbye to the other members of the party, and she’d been kicking herself for it ever since.
    “Tricia is in the front,” she replied, in a remarkably normal tone of voice. “We had a busy morning, and she fell asleep.”
    Brody closed the door behind him, crossed to the cat and crouched, extending a hand.
    Winston hissed and batted at him with one paw.
    “Whoa,” Brody said, drawing back.
    Carolyn chuckled, relaxing a little. Clearly, Winston was a good judge of character, as well as an expert mouser and a connoisseur of fine sardines.
    Having made his position clear, the cat went back to snarfing up his lunch.
    Meanwhile, Brody rose off his haunches, still holding his hat in one hand, and looked disgruntled. Being drop-dead gorgeous, he probably wasn’t used to rejection—even when it came from an ordinary house cat. “Animals usually like me,” he said, sounding baffled and even a little hurt.
    Carolyn, realizing she’d been gawking, turned away, suddenly very busy getting a can of soup, a box of crackers and a loaf of bread from the pantry.
    Glancing back, she saw Brody approach the inside door, push it open carefully and peer into the next room.
    He turned, with a kind of brotherly softening in his eyes, and put his index finger to his lips.
    “Shh,” he said.
    “I didn’t make a sound,” Carolyn protested, in a whisper.
    Why didn’t the man just leave now, if he didn’t want to disturb Tricia?
    Instead, he lingered, one-hundred-percent cowboy, with his hat in his hands and his mouth tilted sideways in a grin.
    “We don’t have to be enemies, you know,” he said quietly.
    Carolyn, in the middle of slapping a slice of bologna onto a piece of bread, opened her mouth and then closed it again.
    “Do we?” Brody persisted.
    Carolyn recovered enough to reply, though the words came out in a terse little rush of breath. “Tricia is my friend and business partner. You’re her brother-in-law. Therefore, we have to be civil to each other.”
    “Is it that hard?” Brody asked. “Being ‘civil,’ I mean?”
    Suddenly, all the old feelings rose up inside Carolyn, nearly overwhelming her. Tears stung her eyes and she turned her head quickly, bit down hard on her lower lip.
    “Carolyn?” he said.
    He was standing right behind her by then; she felt the heat and hard masculinity of him in every nerve in her body.
    Just go, she thought desperately, unable to risk turning around to face him.
    Brody Creed had never been one to leave well enough alone. He took a light hold on her shoulders, and Carolyn found herself looking up into the treacherous blue of those trademark eyes.
    “I’m sorry for what I did, way back when,” he told her, his voice a gruff rumble. “I was wrong. But don’t you think it’s time we put all that behind us and stopped walking on eggshells every time we happen to be in the same room?”
    He was sorry.
    As far as Carolyn was concerned, sorry was the emptiest, most threadbare word in the English language. People hurt other people, said they were so sorry and then, in her experience at least, turned right around and did the same thing all over again.
    Or something