Marriage, Bravo Style!

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What could she say to that? No, she didn’t get it. Didn’t get how anyone could be satisfied with mere contentment.

Was that because she was still young, as he said, still young and full of passion and confusion? Whatever. If he was happy with being “content,” well, who was she to argue with that?

Still, she couldn’t help teasing him, “So maybe you and Mom should get back together. She could retire, too. You could travel a little, get out and see the world, be ‘content’ together.”

He answered pretty much as her mother had. “I don’t think so, m’hija.”

She left it at that. In the end, it was her parents’ business, whether they lived apart or not. She might be young, but she knew that much.

He left a few minutes later. At the door, he hugged her one more time and told her how much he loved her.

And when he was gone, she felt really good—lighter, somehow. As if the things her father had said had lifted a weight off her shoulders, a weight she hadn’t even realized she was carrying. It occurred to her that this could end up being the best Easter ever, even if her mom and dad were apart.

At least there was peace between her parents now—what the psychologists always called “closure.” They each had their own personal “contentment.” Maybe that was as good as it got for them.

But not for her. She had her whole life ahead of her. Closure and contentment were the last things she wanted now.

She wanted excitement. Passion. Love, eventually.

And then everything that came with love: Commitment. Children. A family of her own.

But right now, what she wanted more than anything was to see Rogan Murdoch again.

And in a few hours, she would.

Rogan was beyond pissed at himself.

And he had been since about ten minutes after Elena drove away the night before, once he could no longer smell the tempting scent of her perfume. Once he’d returned to his senses.

What was the matter with him, to go leading her on like that? Walking her to the door. Flirting with her outright. Kissing her. He had more sense than that.

A man didn’t make moves on a woman like Elena without knowing exactly what kind of signal he was giving her.

It had been wrong, what he’d done. That one amazing, unforgettable kiss would have been more than enough to get her thinking they were going somewhere with each other—at the very least, on a first date.

He thought about that. About how maybe he should ask her out. And then he could explain his situation. He could tell her frankly that if she wanted anything more than his company or maybe a hot night of good sex—or two—he wasn’t her guy.

But considering his behavior last night, going out with her seemed like just begging for trouble. If he couldn’t keep his hands off her when they were at Caleb’s, with her adoring and protective big brother nearby, how was he going to exercise restraint if it were just the two of them?

No.

A date was not the answer.

Avoidance was. She was going to think he was a jerk, and he deserved that. Really, if you got right down to it, he was a jerk for sending her signals when he had no intention of following through on them.

Rogan went to the Bravo ranch determined to stay as far away from Elena Cabrera as he possibly could.

That plan lasted about an hour.

Until he saw her again. She walked in the front door of the big Bravo ranch house and he was a goner.

Was it possible she could be even more gorgeous that day than the night before? She wore a close-fitting white-dotted dark blue dress and a short-sleeved white jacket. She had her hair swept up, soft little curls escaping to kiss the back of her slim golden neck. He wished he was one of those little curls so he could brush against that neck.

It was hopeless. Really. No way could he resist her.

He hung back as she hugged her sister and exchanged greetings with Caleb, and then he moved in.

She turned and smiled at him, dimple flashing. Pure temptation. “Rogan.” She laughed and the sound was as fine as the scent of her. “It’s been so long.”

“Hours,” he said. It came out in a growl.

Ridiculous. Insane. Totally unacceptable.

He only wanted to be near her. Was that so damn wrong?

He knew it was.

Still, wrong or not, he stayed near her.

First, they wandered into the kitchen together and chatted with Mercy and Aleta and a couple of the other Bravo wives.

And an hour later, there was an egg hunt out on the back grounds for the kids. Only a few of them were the right age for it, but they seemed to have a ball. Their parents followed them around and everyone else got comfortable on patio furniture arranged around the pool and on the edges of the lawn.

Rogan and Elena found chairs side by side and watched the kids racing all around in the grass, under the oak trees and even along the pretty trails of the formal garden, doting parents following after them. Lucas—Mercy and Luke’s toddler—was especially cute. He was in too much of a hurry for his fat little legs and he kept falling over into the grass. But falling didn’t stop him. He would struggle upright again, grab his basket and lurch off in a different direction, laughing the whole time.

Besides Lucas, there was seven-year-old Kira, Matt and Corrine Bravo’s older girl, and three-year-old Ginny, Mary Bravo’s daughter from her first marriage.

As Rogan watched, Lucas took another header onto the grass. His big cousin Kira, who happened to be a few feet away, darted over to help him up.

“Lucas,” she scolded. “You have to be more careful.”

“Kira, no!” he commanded, batting her hands away. “I do it, me.”

“Oh, fine. You just go ahead.” Kira made a disgusted sound and whirled away, the full skirt of her pink Easter dress belling out around her.

“Kira is the greatest kid.” Elena leaned close to him, bringing a sweet hint of jasmine that made his head swim. “But also really bossy. Sometimes she reminds me of Mercy.”

He turned his head to meet those brandy-colored eyes. “Mercy was a bossy big sister?”

“Oh, yeah. She and her mom didn’t come to stay with us until she was eleven—did Caleb tell you my parents adopted her after her mom died?”

“He did mention that, as a matter of fact.”

A frown creased her smooth brow. “Really? What else did he mention?”

“He explained all the…complicated family relationships—in a very general way.”

She rolled those amazing eyes. “Well. If you know that Caleb’s my half brother, it’s not that hard to put it together, anyway, I guess.”

Settling back into her chair, she stared out across the lawn again, toward where Davis and Aleta sat together, holding hands, beaming like the proud grandparents they were. “They’ve been married for about thirty-five years.” Her voice was flat. “I’m twenty-five. One of them cheated. It wasn’t Aleta.”

He leaned closer to her again and she turned to meet his gaze. Her eyes were stormy now, her mouth set. “You’re angry,” he said. “Maybe we should change the subject.”

“I’m not angry. But suit yourself.”

He wanted to touch her, soothe her. But he kept his hands to himself. “Look. It’s okay. If talking about your relationship with Davis makes you uncomfortable, I get it. And I’m more than ready to move on.”

She sighed, a tender little sound, and the thick fans of her eyelashes swept down. After a long moment, she looked at him again, the hostility gone now. “Sorry. I don’t mind talking about it. I’m not happy with the whole situation, but everyone tells me I need to get over that.”

“But you’re not—over it, I mean.”

“No. I guess I’m not.” She didn’t elaborate.

He didn’t push. “And you were saying, about Mercy being bossy…?”

Instantly, her expression brightened. “Oh. Right. She started bossing me around the first day she moved in with us. A natural big sister. I resented her totally. And I also completely adored and idolized her.”

“Sounds like the perfect big sister to me.”

“She was. She is.” Her mouth was so soft. He remembered how good it had felt, kissing her. He wanted to do it again. Right there, on the back grounds of the Bravo ranch house, during the family egg hunt.

Somehow, he managed not to.

But it was a near thing.

Little Ginny, in a lavender dress with a big satin bow, had just found another egg. She bent at the waist, the wide hem of her dress lifting out behind her. Grabbing the egg, she straightened and held it high. “I got one, I got one!”

Rogan chuckled at the sight.

Elena was watching him. “You like kids?”

“I’d better. I just finished raising three of them.”

“Does this remind you of the egg hunts of your childhood?”

“Yeah. Mostly the later ones, when I was too big for hunting eggs and got to help my parents hide them. I felt so grown-up, I remember, watching my sister and brothers running around the backyard, letting out little squeals of triumph each time one of them found another egg.”

She chuckled. “I always wanted a big brother.” Her expression changed, grew thoughtful. “And now I have seven of them.” She tipped her chin up, cheerful and defiant at the same time. “So I guess being Davis Bravo’s love child isn’t all bad.”

He thought she looked a little bit lost, suddenly. And the need to touch her got the better of him. He reached for her hand, twined his fingers between her slim, soft ones. “Don’t be sad,” he whispered. “Think of Caleb. Can you imagine your life now without Caleb? I know he couldn’t get along without you.”

She almost smiled. “Yeah. It’s funny. We grew close really fast, right after we found out the truth. And you’re right. It’s like he’s always been my brother, somehow…”

The brother in question was sitting with Irina a few feet away. Were his ears burning? Maybe. When they both turned to look at him, Caleb stared back, one eyebrow lifted.

And Rogan was still holding Elena’s hand.

Seriously, he needed to get a grip. What about all those promises he’d made himself, the ones about how he would stay the hell away from her?

And yet here he was, his head bent close to hers, drinking in the scent of her, hanging on her every word, fingers woven with hers.

He should let go. But he didn’t.

A couple of minutes later, she did it for him. Gently, she eased her hand away, a slight smile curving her beautiful mouth, a blush on her cheeks.

The egg hunt wound down. Then Luke suggested a walk out to the stables. He raised horses on the ranch.

The men agreed to go with him, and the women, taking the children, headed for the kitchen to start pulling the meal together. Rogan gathered what little sanity remained to him and went with the men.

But later, at dinnertime, he caught up with Elena again. They sat together. He took great care not to touch her, not even in passing, not to lean too close. Somehow, he succeeded in getting through the meal without putting his hands on her.

After dinner, everyone helped clear the table. They took a break before dessert. Some wandered into the big living room, some of them chose the game room, which had a pool table and cabinets full of board games. Others went out in back again to sit by the pool or under the trees.

Elena stayed with Mercy, Mary Bravo and Irina in the kitchen. Rogan headed for the game room and played pool with Caleb for a while. Surprisingly, his friend said nothing about the way he’d been hanging all over Elena—sitting beside her at dinner and holding her hand during the egg hunt. Rogan was grateful for Caleb’s silence on the subject. Again, he promised himself to show restraint from now on.

That promise lasted about an hour and a half. Until they all returned to the formal dining room for coffee, coconut cake and homemade ice cream.

Elena had saved a chair for him. What could he do but sit beside her, get lost in her eyes, drown in her laughter, become drunk on the scent of her skin?

After dessert, the two of them went into the living room together. They sat close on one of the long sofas there. By the time everyone started making time-to-go-home noises, he had more or less accepted that he really needed to stop lying to himself, stop making himself promises he was not going to keep.

He liked Elena. A lot. And she clearly liked him. She was twenty-five years old. All grown-up. If he wanted to be with her and she wanted to be with him, well, why not? There was no need to make a big deal out of something so simple.