Free Playing with Dynamite by Leanne Banks Page A

of crap designed by psychologists to get more money out of people. Sure, he’d had a few little fears, but he’d always dealt with them or found a way around them. On the occasions he’d used explosives to accomplish a demolition job, his attitude had been one of respect rather than fear. There was no place for nerves when a man was blasting a rock foundation in a matter of seconds. That situation, like most of his jobs, called for planning, preparation and expertise.
    If pressed, Brick would have to say he got a rush when a challenging job was completed.
    If pressed to discuss his feelings about marriage, however, Brick would have to say he broke into a cold sweat. Which left him with an uneasy suspicion.
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    On Saturday afternoon after he checked one of his job sites, he drove to the local library to prove to himself that gamophobia didn’t apply to him.
    Three hours later, he left the library more troubled than ever. The summer heat was stifling inside his Thunderbird even with the T-top down. He started the ignition, flicked the air conditioner on max and sat there.
    He missed her.
    It was far more than physical, he was learning, and he was surprised he hadn’t realized it before. He missed the way they’d sat together and watched a sports game. She was always getting her terms mixed up, he remembered with faint humor. She couldn’t tell a run from a field goal, and she’d been known to make him miss a great play because she had asked him to explain something at a crucial moment. The night before he’d watched a Braves game, and it hadn’t been nearly as much fun without Lisa.
    She’d taken the joy, he realized. Joy was a hokey word, but it described what being with her meant to him.
    He’d heard a kid banging out “Chopsticks” on a television commercial and remembered when she’d tried to make his broad hands hammer out that same song at a party they’d gone to last winter.
    Looking at his hands, he felt that yawning ache again. He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel and thought about the conversation he’d had with his family. One comment Carly had made about Russ stuck in Brick’s mind. As they were leaving Brick had joked with Carly to let him know if Russ ever stepped out of line.
    She’d laughed and said, “Not likely.” Then her expression had turned serious. “You know, he’s always been there for me. Good or bad. And especially when times were tough.” She’d smiled. “Guess I’m pretty lucky.”
    Brick thought both of them were lucky, along with Daniel and Sara, and Garth and Erin. It was strange how much he wanted to be with Lisa, yet the thought of marriage still made him feel sick. Gamophobia.
    Brick shook his head, refusing to think about it anymore. He couldn’t do a damn thing about it today, anyway. He could, however, start being there for Lisa. He was at a loss when it came to romantic gestures and writing gushy poems, but he could handle being there.
    He remembered Lisa was overseeing a party. Checking his watch, he realized he had a few hours to kill, so he decided to get her a birthday present. He moved the car into gear and frowned at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Better late than never. So he hoped.
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    Lisa pulled into a parking space near her apartment and rested her head on the steering wheel. It had been a wretched day from beginning to end. Her body ached from head to toe. Tired to the point of being dizzy, she considered curling up in the seat and spending the night right there.
    A gentle thump-thump sounded on her window. She jerked upright and saw Brick. For a moment, she wondered if she was imagining things.
    â€œAre you okay?”
    Even through the closed window, she heard the concern in his voice. Her heart clutched. No. Lisa turned her head in an indecisive circle, but lowered her window, and flipped the automatic locks. She took a calming breath.