DEAN

 

“Are you sure you have enough socks?” Brenna asks for the third time. “And what about a jacket? It’s November, the nights are cool. I hope you brought an extra pair of shoes, just in case, and an extra charger for your phone. You can take mine if you didn’t.”

High strung doesn’t even begin to describe the mood this morning. I stroke Brenna’s arm, trying to soothe her. “Sweetheart, he’s just going for a week. He’ll be fine.”

“I know,” she says, gnawing her bottom lip. “It’s just this is the first time Landon is going to be away since the accident.” She turns to her brother. “I want to make sure you have everything you need. And even though I’m not going on the trip with you, you call me. Anytime, day or night, if you need something.”

“He’ll have a good time,” I say, kissing the back of her hand. “But if he’s actually going to go on this trip, we really need to get out of the car and load his bags on the bus.”

“Fine, we can get out,” she says, shoulders slumped in resignation.

Landon mouths “Thank you” from the back seat.

The lime green xB is comically small and unfolding my six-two frame into the passenger seat is a challenge. She refused to let me call a town car, despite the fact we all would have been more comfortable. I unload his bags from the trunk of Brenna’s compact wagon.

Brenna pulls a stiff Landon into a big bear hug and then shoves a wad of bills into his hand. “I know everything is covered, but this is just in case you want to pick up some souvenirs or buy some junk food.”

“Thanks,” Landon says, begrudgingly, and shoves the bills into his pocket without even looking. He tosses the strap of his guitar case over his shoulder and takes the handle of his bag. “I should join everyone. I think Mrs. Weston is handing out room assignments.”

“Bye. Have a good time.” Brenna waves frantically as he walks away. “I hope he’s okay. Is it too soon for him to take a big trip like this? I wish I would have kept him in grief counseling. The therapist would tell me what to do.”

“He has to live his life,” I say and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her back into my chest. “And so do you. Tyler and I plan on keeping you so distracted you won’t know where the time has gone.”

She turns in my arms and looks up at me. “That sounds—” She licks her lips. “—promising. What do you have planned?”

“It’s a surprise,” I say and open the car door for her. “When we get back home, why don’t you take a nice bath and put on that pretty pink dress I like.”

“The wrap one that ties on the side?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. “Whatever for?”

“Because I like it.” I pin her between the door and the car and kiss her quickly, mindful of our audience. “And it shows off your fantastic tits.”

She giggles and ducks into the driver's seat, giving me a fantastic view of said tits. I almost want to tell her screw the romantic evening we have planned and just get her naked again. I’m fucking addicted to her. Not a second goes by that I don’t want to touch, kiss, or fuck every inch of Brenna’s body.

But tonight is about more than sex. Tonight is about the future.

* * *

At ten ‘til eight, Brenna lets herself into the penthouse, wearing the pink dress with her hair tied back in a matching chiffon scarf. Luther happily leaves his post in the kitchen to go greet her with a bark. She bends over to snuggle the dog’s neck, causing her skirt to rise up her thighs. She looks like she stepped right out of the pages of a World War II pinup calendar.

“What is that fantastic smell?”

“That’s dinner,” I say, handing her a glass of wine. “Tyler is making pasta with scallops.”

“Tyler? He’s making seafood?” she says, eyes wide. “I didn’t even think he knew where the kitchen was.”

“I heard that,” Tyler yells from the kitchen.

The room is set for an intimate dinner. The lights are low, candles burning. Soft music is playing on the sound system. I pull out her chair.

“My mom thinks that every young man should know how to cook, regardless of how much money they have,” I explain. “So one year for Christmas, she got us both cooking lessons. And while I’ll never admit it to him, Tyler’s a better cook.”

“Damn right I am,” he says, coming up behind me with a large serving dish.

“But I’m a better baker, asswipe,” I say and sit down on her right. “And trust me, Brenna’s going to love my chocolate torte more than a plate full of scallops.”

“You made a torte?” She glances back and forth between two of us and laughs. “What is all this? Why the fancy dinner and candles? Did you get fresh flowers for the table?”

“Can’t we wine and dine our woman?” Tyler asks, setting the plate down and taking the seat on her other side.

“Tonight’s all about taking care of you.” I take Brenna’s hand and kiss her knuckles. “You’ve been trying to juggle everything—a job, the estate, Landon. We thought you deserved a break.”

“But I thought after Landon left, you’d want to… ”

A blush crept over her cheeks and down her neck. I knew exactly what she thought, and she isn’t wrong. I always want to get Brenna in bed, but tonight is about something different.

“This isn’t just about the sex,” Tyler says. “We’re all in.”

“The family dinners, the carpool, all of it,” I add.

“So tonight is date night,” Tyler says and dishes up the pasta and scallops. “Dinner. A movie. And if it ends in the bedroom, so be it. If not, that’s fine too.”

“I picked up the new Guardians movie. You said you really wanted to see it but missed it when it premiered in theaters because of the move.”

“How did you get a copy of that?” she asked, gripping my arm. “It’s not even out on video yet.”

“Having money and connections does have its perks,” Tyler says and takes a bite of his pasta. “The producer is a friend of ours.”

“Thank you, guys.” Brenna turns, gives us each a kiss, and then digs into her meal. “This is delicious. I hope you made more because I’m going to want seconds.”

“See I told you,” Tyler says, gloating.

“We’ll see.”

After the dishes are cleared, we move on to dessert and the movie. I can tell the torte is a big hit, even though she refuses to declare a winner in our culinary battle. I lower the lights and put on the disk. Brenna settles in between us, holding my hand and laying her head on Tyler’s shoulder.

The two of them spend a good portion of the opening scenes arguing over comic cannon versus the cinematic universe and which is better. They continue to argue and joke, trying to get me to take sides.

Halfway through the movie, Brenna shifts and lays across Tyler’s lap, her feet propped up on mine. I slide my hand up her bare calf, needing to touch her, and massage the muscles. Tyler unties the scarf and strokes her hair.

By the time the credits roll, Brenna’s fast asleep.

“Why don’t you tuck her in and I’ll pick things up,” I whisper to Tyler.

He nods and hooks an arm under her knee, letting her burrow into his chest. They pad back to the bedroom, and I pick up the remains of our meal. Tonight was perfect, and I’m looking forward to a million more nights just like it.