Free The Other Brooks Boy (Texas Wildfire Series) by Diane Roth Page A

crowd for a moment.
"There are a couple of people I wanted to see who aren't coming. I'm
disappointed about that. But it's good to see some of the others. Some I
haven't seen in years."
    "Are you
getting a lot of questions about Jason?" he asked.
    "Sure. I
expected it, so it's not bothering me too badly." It must have occurred to
her that he hadn't expected it. "Is that what's got you looking so forlorn
over here?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.
    "I don't
know ... yeah, probably," he said, knowing it to be partially true, at
least.
    "I'm sorry,
Greg." Her beautiful brown eyes were full of tenderness and comfort, and
he couldn't look at them and get lost in that goodness knowing she was offering
it because his brother ... her husband, was dead. Damn, this was so convoluted.
    "Hey, it is
what it is," he said, dropping his gaze away from hers. Those eyes were
dangerous territory.
    "Yeah, but
let's don't let it ruin the night." She slid her
hand all the way down his arm to his wrist and gave him a tug. "Come on.
Let's dance," she said, her tone snapping with that bubbly, contagious
happiness he couldn't resist.
    They moved to
the dance floor as one song was ending and another began, a slow love ballad,
and Greg pulled her up close, one hand engulfing her smaller hand, his other
arm reaching around her waist. She came into his embrace like she'd been formed
for him. Her scent enveloped him, warm and sweet, with a hint of exotic spice
he couldn't have named. He inhaled deeply, an error in judgment, and felt it
spill into his lungs and go straight for his vitals, a potent potion for
arousal. They moved around the dance floor, her arm around his shoulders, her
breasts pressed against his chest, and Greg used every maneuver he'd ever
employed for fighting obvious arousal. If he wasn't successful, every person in
this place was going to know exactly what he was feeling for his sister-in-law
when they walked off the dance floor. He counted the steps of the dance, he
tried to remember the words to the song, he wondered when his inspection
sticker expired on his truck. Just anything to keep from thinking about the
woman in his arms and all the decadent things he wanted to do to her.
    She poked her
nose nearer the open collar of his shirt and sniffed, then hummed a little
noise he felt in her body more than he heard. "You smell so good,"
she said, leaning her head back a bit to look into his eyes.
    He chuckled.
"I was thinking the same thing about you."
    She smiled at
him. "And I'd forgotten what a great dancer you are. Smooth as silk,"
she purred.
    "Okay, you
don't have to butter me up to lift my mood," he said, laughing.
    Her grin turned
wry. "It's not buttering up if it's true."
    "So you
won't think I'm buttering you up if I tell you that you are, without a doubt,
the most gorgeous forty-year-old woman in this place tonight?"
    Her expression
lost some of its playfulness, turned more serious. "I have to admit, I'd
suspect that to be more in the buttering up category than true category,"
she said.
    "It's true,
darlin'. It's a repeat of the fundraiser where I stood around and fielded
questions about you all night. Every man in this place has his eye on you
tonight," he said, leaning close to her ear so he wouldn't have to shout
it over the music.
    She shook her
head dismissively and actually rolled her eyes, not even bothering to argue
with him. "Well, I've been asked about you too, so there."
    He brightened.
"Really?"
    "Oh, yeah.
They all think you're hot," she said, and he heard a note of mild
irritation in her voice.
    "And that
bothers you?" he asked, fighting a touch of pride over all that.
    "Yes, it
does. They're acting like a bunch of heifers who've never seen a bull."
    He laughed right
out loud at that, enjoying that they all thought him hot, that she compared him
to a bull, and that she might be feeling a tad possessive, just like he was.
She sent him a dark look, but he kept right on laughing.
    "Oh, I see
how it is,"