Read The Secret Life of Bryan for Free Online Page B

place, joked and flattered, or insulted with glee. But she didn’t confide.
    Bruce said it was all a front, that Barb didn’t warm to people easily. Yet Shay had only been in the kitchen a few minutes and already she had Barb talking.
    As if Shay knew exactly what he was thinking, she smiled. “Barb’s been with you a little over a year now. Unlike the other women here, you pay her wages as a manager.”
    He propped his hands on his hips, annoyed. “She told you all that?”
    “Yes. She feels indebted. Let her do her part to pay you back, Bryan. It would injure her pride to make her think she wasn’t needed.” As she spoke, the teapot began to whistle and Shay turned her back on him, preparing two cups of tea.
    Bryan stared at her ass.
    Bruce, or God, or both would probably strike him down for it. But…it was a really fine ass. And he wasn’t a preacher, automatically immune to such things.
    No, he was a bounty hunter, and he’d always been partial to a nice heart-shaped derriere. Hers was of special interest, though, because he could see the small rectangular outline of plastic cards in her back pocket—no doubt the IDs that were missing from her wallet.
    Nope, nothing dumb about her.
    After carrying the cups to the table, she pulled out a chair and sat. Or more like she sprawled, her body going boneless as she slumped in the seat, stretching out those neverending legs. And still she managed to look elegant and sexy.
    Bryan had never seen a woman so comfortable with herself and her surroundings, whatever her surroundings might be. He was already used to the hookers being immodest to the point of being lewd, almost unaware of their bodies, as if they no longer thought of them as their own or as private. Their attitudes carried over to him, and he was able to see them the same way. Not sexy, just very used to showing skin.
    But Shay was impossible to ignore. She just didn’t behave like he’d expected, like Bruce had predicted.
    If he didn’t know better, he’d think she had no idea how sexy she looked. But as a hooker, that wasn’t possible.
    He took his own seat. “This house wouldn’t run smoothly without Barb.”
    “I hope you tell her that. Often.”
    Her chiding tone grated on his nerves. His brother did what he could. Sometimes, to his own mind, it wasn’t enough, but Bryan knew that Bruce was as honorable and considerate as they came.
    He didn’t like anyone, especially this pushy bimbo, judging his brother. “Shay…”
    Teasing, whisper-soft, she replied, “Bryan?”
    The reprimand died on his tongue. I’m a preacher. I’m a preacher. Bruce would reassure her, not set her straight. Bruce would make her feel welcome. “You’re not like the other women here.”
    That made her laugh, but she quickly stifled the sound. “Sorry.” She rubbed away her smile. “How am I different, do you think?”
    She said it like a challenge, but then everything about her, from her smile to her openness, challenged him. You don’t seem wounded. You seem much too confident and sure of your actions. You’re too damned bossy. He couldn’t say it, of course. Bruce wouldn’t say it.
    “Well?”
    He had to tell her something, so he said, “You’re more relaxed than most of the women.” Then a thought struck him. “You haven’t been working long, have you?”
    “Since I was fourteen.”
    An invisible fist squeezed his larynx. He choked, wheezed in a breath, and choked some more. Fourteen! Holy shit.
    Brows raised at his reaction, she said, tongue in cheek, “Oh, you mean prostituting.”
    Feeling duped, he pondered the pleasure of putting her over his knee. She deserved it. But of course, his brother would have a cow if he did something so outrageous. Through his teeth, Bryan said, “Most of the women prefer to call it working.”
    “Really? I prefer to call it what it is.” Her eyes were serious, but her soft mouth still sported that teasing smile.
    He wanted to lick it away. When this damn