My pulse raced as Brantley approached me, his heated gaze locked with my own. Every muscle in his body was drawn taut, yet he still moved with the grace of a predator. His long, purposeful strides devoured the distance between us, bringing him closer with each heart-stopping second that passed.

I licked my lower lip, tracing my eyes over every inch of his clothed body.

 Lord help me… The man is sex on a stick.

Wearing a pair of tailored black slacks that hung low on his lean hips, a moss-colored button-up shirt, and shoes that likely cost more than my monthly rent, he oozed power and wealth—two things I abhorred because they reminded me of the devil from my past.

Don't think about him.

I lifted my gaze to Brantley's face.

Chiseled jaw, sharp cheekbones, kissable lips, and piercing eyes enhanced by dark, long lashes... The man was the epitome of male beauty. His honey-toned skin, muscle stacked frame, taller than average height, and flawless complexion only added to his appeal.

I wonder if it tastes as sweet as it looks?

I gritted my back teeth together, willing my inappropriate thoughts to dissipate. It wasn't the time nor the place. I realized that. Still, I couldn't stop the images that flashed through my mind one after the other like a movie on an old projection screen.

Brantley shirtless.

Brantley nude.

Brantley covered in sweat with his strong hand wrapped around his—

"What are you thinking about, Firecracker?" Brantley's voice interrupted the slideshow of dirty images running rampant through my head.

Beads of sweat dotted the length of my spine as I stared up at him. His scent, a mixture of warm amber and smooth vanilla, danced at the tip of my nose, making me dizzy with need.

A need that, until meeting Brantley, I'd never experienced.

"Answer me, Clara," he demanded, sending chills racing down my spine. His signature smirk appeared, tipping his lips up at the corners. "Or are you too embarrassed to tell me?"

Without me having to say it, he knew what I was thinking. I supposed he was as talented at reading women's body language as he was at deciphering the legal mumbo jumbo he buried himself in each day.

After all, Brantley had plenty of experience with women.

I'd heard Evan talk. I knew the stories.

Flirting with women is what he does.

Chasing them is what gets him high.

With that thought, realization struck, and my heart ached like a rotten tooth. How I'd been so stupid, I wasn't sure. The heated look he'd given me moments earlier was only a game, and I was just another conquest.

Skin burning, a black cloud settled over me, darkening my mood.

I stepped back, my eyes narrowed. Standing tall, I called upon every bit of sass I possessed. "I was just wondering if you wanted my autograph, that's all." My tone was clipped.

Brantley's brows furrowed in confusion. "Why would I want your autograph?"

I shrugged. "You couldn't stop staring. Therefore, I figured you were star-struck, Pretty Boy."

I forced a bitchy smile that felt foreign on my ordinarily passive face.

He opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut when Bella lifted her head from my shoulder and looked at her father. "Clara called you pretty, Daddy." Her high-pitched voice was one of the most beautiful sounds I'd ever heard. She swung her sparkling gaze to me and asked, "Do you think I'm pretty too?"

The pissy smile I’d tossed Brantley's way disappeared, and in its place, a genuine one appeared. "I do, sweet girl." I pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. "You are one of the prettiest little girls I've ever seen." She giggled, but I wasn't finished. "You’re not just pretty though. You're smart and sweet and a whole lot of silly too."

Bella cupped my cheeks. "You're pretty too, Clara!" she shouted a second before her brows furrowed. "No, wait." She fell silent, seeming to mull over what she would say next. Then, "That's not what Daddy says. He says you are be-you-ta-full."

Brantley slid his hands into his pockets. "She is beautiful," he replied. His words hung between us as I tried to decipher if he was telling the truth or if he was playing some game. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

My heart skipped.

No, no, stupid heart. Calm down.

He’s just another wealthy playboy who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.

It was a lie, and I knew it.

Brantley may have been a player at one time, but that was no longer the case.

He’d gotten married, settled down.

Then again, he’d also gotten divorced.

Did he cheat on his wife?

It was a question I already knew the answer to.

Cheating was a scumbag move, and well, Brantley wasn't a scumbag. 

Still knocked off kilter by his words from moments earlier, I floundered for something to say. When it became apparent that I couldn’t string over two syllables together, Shelby swooped in to save me. Distracted by Brantley's approach, I'd forgotten that she was standing next to me with Liam and Declan, both of whom were silent, beside her.

I was losing my mind.

"I hate to break up this sweet moment and all, but if we don't march our rear ends next door within the next few minutes, Grandmama will raise cane."

With a roll of my eyes, I focused on Bella. "Are you ready to go see Grandmama, princess? Lord knows we don't want to get her riled up."

"Yes." She nodded, wearing a smile. "I love Grandmama."

I smiled. "Me too." Turning, I stepped forward and ran my fingers through each of my boy's hair, messing up their thick locks. "You two little delinquents ready?"

Liam nodded, but Declan scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes. "Hey," he said in a teasing tone. "How come we're delinquents, but she's a princess?"

I lightly bopped him on the nose. "I'm almost certain you were the one who started calling her princess, are you not?"

He shook his head. "Nope!" He pointed at Brantley. "That was him. I just did what he did."

"Daddy doesn't call me princess," Bella stated. "He calls me princesa."

"What's the difference?" Liam asked, confused.

"Princesa is Spanish for princess," Brantley explained, his eyes never leaving mine. "Just like bella dama is Spanish for beautiful lady."

"Listen, y'all," Shelby said, shaking her head. "I'm married to a man who likes to spout Italian at me when he gets pissed. I don't need y'all talking Spanish too. I can barely speak proper English half the time"—she playfully stuck her tongue out at a giggling Bella—"so please, for the love of all that is holy, stop it."

It was impossible not to laugh at her.

Hair-trigger temper notwithstanding, Shelby was one of the funniest and most loving people I'd ever meet. Like Maddie and Hope, she'd been there for the boys and I every step of the way over the last two years.

A domestic violence survivor herself, she fully knew of the darkness I found myself in after escaping Colin. It was her that pulled me out of the blackness each time I started to drown.

For that, I owed her a hell of a lot.

"I—"A horn honked as a truck passed, interrupting me. It made a right into Grandmama's driveway before coming to a stop.

I recognized who it belonged to right away.

Upon seeing the familiar truck, Bella shrieked. "Let me down, Clara. Maddie and Melody are here!"

Liam scowled. "I get to hug Melody first."

"No way," Bella argued, wiggling in my hold. "I'm gonna hug her first."

I lowered Bella to the ground and watched as all three kids ran toward the truck that belonged to Hendrix, Maddie's husband.

Already out of the truck, Hendrix was unbuckling Melody from her car seat. Once she was free, he stood her on the ground and watched as she took off on unsteady feet toward the three kiddo's running full bore towards her.

When they met, Liam scooped her up into his arms and squeezed her tight.

Irritated, Bella stuck her tongue out at him.

Shelby snorted. “Mark my words, that will be trouble in the years to come.”

It was my turn to be confused. “What will?”

Giving me a ‘don’t act stupid’ look, she pointed at Liam and Melody. “That.”

I was about to tell her she was crazy when Grandmama hollered from her porch. How long she’d been standing there, I wasn't sure. I hadn’t seen her come outside. “Lunch is ready!” She yelled before smiling at Hendrix, who was helping an exhausted-looking Maddie out of the truck. Three days overdue with baby number two, she was worn slap out.

Grandmama swung her gaze to where we stood. Eyes wide, her gaze bounced between Brantley and I before settling on me. Her smile grew, and I knew trouble was brewing.

Shelby elbowed me in the side. “You know she’s plotting, right?”

“She’s crazy,” I said, pulling myself back to the present. “Like, certifiably insane.” 

“Yeah,” Shelby replied, nodding, “and that only makes her more determined.” Winking, she hooked her thumb and pointed over her shoulder at Evan and Hope’s house. “I'll grab Evan, Hope, and little Ry real quick. You and Brantley head on over there before Grandmama marches over here and smacks us all with the flyswatter. Anthony, Felix, and my kiddos are already there.”

I touched Brantley’s hand with my own. “You ready?”

His eyes bored into mine. “Yeah, Firecracker, I am.”

With a nod, I turned my focus to the place where the boys, Isabella, and Melody stood in a circle giggling like little goofballs and started to walk. Brantley’s heat bathed my back as he walked behind me. “Alright, you four,” I said. “Let’s go inside. Grandmama cooked lunch.”

Grabbing Bella’s hand, Declan dragged her toward the house while Liam followed, carrying a laughing Melody in his arms. It was one of the sweetest things I’d ever seen.

The kids disappeared into the house as I climbed the front porch steps and came face to face with a waiting Grandmama. Hands on her cocked hips, she peered up at me with raised brows. “Well, you sure are looking fancy today. What’cha all gussied up for?” A conniving grin spread across her face. “You dress up for someone in particular or did you get a bug up your butt and pretty yourself up for no reason?”

When I didn’t answer her, she leaned to the side and peeked at Brantley.

Whistling long and low, she waggled her eyes brows and winked in his direction. “Well hey there, handsome fellow. I’m convinced you get better looking every time I see you.”

Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew Brantley winked right back. “And you get more beautiful each time I see you, Grandmama.”

Grandmama chuckled and tapped my arm. “I like him,” she said, a pleased expression on her face. “And from the looks of it, I’m sure you do too.”

Deny, deny, deny.

"Grandmama, I—"

"And let me say," she cut in, halting the staunch denial I was about to sling her way, "that makes my job a hell of a lot easier."

“Grandmama, how many times are we going to have this same conversation? I’m not interested in—”

With a roll of her eyes, she waved her hand in front of my face, cutting me off. “Don’t you start. You just let me do what I need to. You’ll thank me later.” She turned on her heel to walk back to the open door. Before she stepped inside, she added, “You may be hardheaded and set in your ways, Clara, but I can out-stubborn a mountain.”

What she meant by that, I had no clue.

I didn’t get to ask her either because she disappeared inside the house, her slipper covered feet padding against the floor as she went.

A bit annoyed and a lot frustrated, I stepped forward only to stop mid-stride when Brantley’s warm hand wrapped around my forearm. “Clara, baby,” he said. “Wait, a minute.”

My head spun a little at the term of endearment.

I turned, facing him. “I’m not your baby, Pretty Boy.”

Though I wished I was.

Brantley peered down at me from his towering height. At five foot nine, I was taller than most women I knew. But Brantley’s height, along with his broad shoulders, made me feel small, something I wasn’t accustomed to. “No”—agitation lined his voice—“you’re not.” He ran his thumb along his bottom lip, his gaze still riveted on me. “Have supper with me tonight.” It wasn’t a question nor a request. It was a demand. “It’s the first night in our new house. We need to celebrate.” He closed the small gap between us. Mere inches separated our chests. “It would mean the world to Bella and me.”

With him so close, I couldn’t think enough to reply.

Heck, I could hardly breathe.

A tad bit dizzy, I rested my hands on his chest, steadying myself. The rock-hard muscles that laid beneath my palms twitched, and my heart rose into my throat.

What the hell is happening to me?

Lightheadedness consumed me. I swayed on my feet, and Brantley wrapped his muscular arm around my lower back, holding me in place. I leaned against him, pressing my chest to his.

When our bodies touched, he sucked in a harsh breath. “Clara.” His voice was deep, huskier than before. “Look at me, baby.”

There was that term of endearment again.

Head spinning, I focused my gaze on the bottom of his neck.

A neck I wanted to kiss.

Brantley slid his thumb under my chin and tilted my head back, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Talk to me.” His brows were furrowed, his head tilted to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I—”

“Damn, man,” a familiar voice, one that belonged to Hendrix, sounded from behind Brantley. “You just got here, and you’ve already rendered Clara speechless. That takes skill, dude.”

His words were like a bucket of ice water to the chest. The heat consuming me vanished and, in its place, coldness emerged.

I dropped my hands from Brantley’s chest and stepped back, forcing him to remove his arm from my lower back. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger—why do I let him affect me like this?—I dipped my gaze to the floor.

I couldn’t bear to meet anyone's eyes.

“Clara…” Brantley reached for me, but I evaded his grab. “Wait.”

I pointed toward the door. “I’m going to see if Grandmama needs help with anything.”

Brantley reached for me again, but I shook my head and moved out of the way, once again evading him.

“Dang it, handsome,” Maddie fussed from where Hendrix carried her in his arms. “Look at what you did.”

It was the last thing I heard before walking away.