Flushed by Sally Felt

longer. Probably longer.
    He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather be doing.
    He couldn’t think, period.
    Which made it that much harder to understand what it meant
when Isabelle stiffened in his arms, her eyes trained somewhere beyond his
shoulder. Nearly impossible to figure out why when her mouth opened, it wasn’t
his name on her lips.
    “Charlie?”

Chapter Six
     
    “Charlie?” Isabelle had never seen that look on Charlie’s
face. Of course, he could easily say the same of her.
    But he was the one unexpected and unannounced. And it was
her house.
    Oh.
    No wonder he looked shocked.
    Her house.
    She’d forgotten.
    How could she have forgotten?
    Kim smoothed her dress down over her hip, which of course
explained it. And she hated to see Kim button his shirt, but their moment had
passed and reality had returned. Besides, his fine, lean chest sported
intriguing red marks that tattled on her.
    Well, who wouldn’t get carried away?
    She stayed where she until Kim was buckled and tucked and
more or less composed.
    Her brother wore his Dallas Stars nylon jacket over
sweatpants and the most faded blue polo shirt ever to hold its stitches. His
old college backpack slid off his shoulder to the floor just inside the front
door. He opened his arms wide in a gesture that took in the wrecked room. “If
this was foreplay, Isabelle, never, ever tell me, okay?”
    Isabelle snorted. “Pervert.” Leave it to Charlie to break
the tension.
    “What happened?” Charlie asked.
    Kim glanced at his watch before moving back to give her some
room. It was after midnight. She sat up and pivoted so she could sit normally
on the sofa, but Kim reached across her, slipped his hand behind her knees and
lifted. “Feet,” he warned.
    Oh. Glass.
    “Thank you,” she said, adjusting so she sat with her feet
tucked up beside her.
    Kim pulled on his own shoes before standing and offering
Charlie his hand. “Hi, Charlie,” he said. “Hadn’t expected to see you tonight.”
    Charlie shook it. “Ken, right?”
    “It’s Kim. Kim Martin. There’s been a break-in.”
    A dozen rude and/or demeaning comebacks had to be dancing on
her brother’s tongue, to judge by the look he gave Kim. But he didn’t unleash a
single one of his caustic gems. Isabelle wondered whether it was special
consideration for the shocking condition of her house or if Charlie had another
reason for withholding at least a juvenile, “Duh!”
    Kim likely didn’t realize the significance. He looked back
at Isabelle. “Why don’t I take care of some more of this glass?” She watched
him crunch his way back into the kitchen for the broom. The sofa felt empty.
    “So you guys really have been dating?” Charlie asked her.
    “We’re not dating,” she said, still feeling adrift.
    “A modern relationship? I’m impressed. I didn’t think you
had it in you.”
    She stuck out her tongue.
    Charlie sat beside her on the sofa. “So tell me what
happened. Is anything missing?”
    “Maybe some cash. I’m not sure how much I had in the pot,”
she said. It was half a question, as her brother was welcome to the cash pot
anytime he needed it, and he’d been laid off his job a little over a month
earlier. He might have depleted the cache long before the break-in.
    “Six-seventy,” Charlie said. He grinned. “Hey, somebody’s
gotta keep track.”
    She smacked his shoulder, then leaned against it. He put his
arm around her. It was a different kind of comfort than she’d been pursuing
with Kim. But now that her hormones weren’t in control, she decided it was
better comfort. Deeper comfort.
    It was family.
    “All my hats,” she said.
    “Yeah,” he said.
    “Makes me so mad.”
    “Yeah.”
    She gave up then and let her brother hold her in silence for
a while. She heard the sounds of Kim sweeping elsewhere in the house and
wondered why he hadn’t left. Maybe he didn’t realize she’d regained her senses.
How crazy would she have been to have sex on her sofa with