![]() The emphasis on McKay, as if it were some sort of disease, had Brandt seeing red. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, McKay.” I know you and that’s not you talkin’.” Brandt pointed to the bottle of Southern Comfort. “Why in the hell would you do that?” he demanded. She frowned, almost as if she’d heard his internal thoughts. “I’m not Luke.” Like he needed to remind her of that fact, after she’d already done such a bang up job of reminding him. “But you didn’t because you were worried about me.” She held his gaze. ![]() Why was he such a stammering freakin’ idiot around her? His thoughts skipped back to Jessie’s bored appraisal of him and her insulting parting shot. “Why did you stick around? I wasn’t very nice to you.” There was that kicked-in-the-heart sensation again. “I wasn’t tryin’ to pretend to be him,” Brandt said softly. “I forgot how much you and Luke sound alike.” Hell, she didn’t even shriek with surprise. ![]() Jessie had that glassy-eyed look from too much alcohol, and her reaction time was slower, but she didn’t react like he’d expected. Miracle of miracles, she rolled over, angrily pushed her tangled hair from her face and squinted at him.īrandt didn’t let his gaze fall below her chin. ![]()
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