Page 27 of Becoming Brandy

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Drake shut the door,leaving her stuck inside. Why were the men on this ship always doing that to her? Power trips.

It was at least an hour later when the wall opened and Tork appeared.

“Hey,” she said, sitting up from where she’d been slumped over the table, sucking the last drops of wine directly from the bottle. She set it down with a thunk and straightened her top.

“Liquid lunch?” he asked.

She shrugged.

Tork raised an eyebrow, surveying the room. “Was this Drake’s idea of romance or yours?”

“Drake set this up,” she said, gesturing around the room. “But it’s not bad.”

Tork’s eyebrow rose higher. “If you love Hallmark ads and inject episodes of Lifetime movies directly into your veins.”

“How do you know about the Hallmark channel?” she asked.

He shrugged. “We get cable.”

“So, you’re saying this is cliché?” she asked.

He gave her a look that said—Do I even need to say it?

“You can do better?” she asked, her hand on her hip.

“Can and will. Let’s go.” He turned and started walking out of the room.

She had to jog to keep up with him.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she finally reached him.

He continued with his relentless pace. “Do you ask everyone this many questions?”

“No.” Jesus, he was a jerk. What had she done to make him so mad at her? “I only ask these many questions when I’ve been, I don’t know, abducted and kept a prisoner on an alien ship!”

“It’s up ahead.”

The room he led her to was already open and created, making her wonder if he had this plan all along. What was going on with the other two while she was cavorting with the third brother? Had Drake given up on claiming her first after their failed date?

But the scene cleared her head of any questions. Tork had created a spectacular view. The ground was a rocky terrain, flecked with mountain grasses and tall pines clinging to sheer cliff faces. They stood on an outcropping, one of the most beautiful valleys she’d ever seen stretched out below. Straight out of a painting, the ledges plunged down to a sun-dappled trees, waterfalls, and grassy plains. A river meandered through. Birdsong filled the air.

She smiled, shifting toward Tork. “This way,” he said, taking off up the path without seeing if she was coming.

Boy, he knew how to ruin the mood.

She took off after him, climbing the path up the side of the mountain as fast as she could. After only a few minutes, she was gasping and her thighs were screaming. Tork seemed to have no issue. He trekked up the path, easily avoiding roots that tripped her feet. And he certainly didn’t stop to take in the view or check on how she was doing.

She tried her best to keep up and not complain, but when she twisted her ankle on loose rocks and pitched forward, striking her hand on a bolder, she cried out.

Lifting the injured hand, she winced. Blood trailed down her palm.

“What happened?” Tork said, skidding back down.

“I fell.” She sat heavily on the boulder, gripping her bleeding hand.

He grabbed it, examining the injury. “You’ll live. Let’s keep moving.”

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