CHAPTER FOUR

VALERIE

“Wait, so you are telling me that this place looked worse?” he asked incredulously. I laughed, bobbing my head as I took a swig of my Corona.

“Yep.” I smiled, remembering the first day Vaughn brought me to the place. “It’s a five-star resort now.” I looked out at the water as my toes wiggled in the sand. “You know what they say about real estate?” I glanced at him and took in his manly chin lift.

“Hmm?”

“It’s all about location.” I grinned and winked before taking another sip.

“Pretty much,” he rumbled. There was something about the tone of his voice that made me want to cuddle into him. Instead, I turned my eyes toward the shore, watching waves come in slowly before taking their descent right back.

“It only has a couple of major things that need to get finished,” I shared, thinking about how far the house had come together. How the house felt more like my home than Vaughn’s, even if Vaughn’s name was on the deed.

“The bathroom looks great.”

“Yeah.” I grinned proudly. It really did.

With his help, after we ran errands, we finished installing and grouting the tile. In the morning, I would paint and then go back to Home Depot for a new vanity I had my eye on.

“So, you fix up cars?” he asked weirdly, and I couldn’t help the grin that fell on my face.

“Yes, sir,” I answered like a smartass, but the joke was on me when I turned my face to look at him. His eyes darkened with hunger, reminding me what kissing him was like, and I pressed my thighs together to find some relief. His eyes went down my bare legs; it was like I could feel it like a touch. A touch I very much wanted.

“And you, umm...”—he cleared his throat, eyes meeting mine—“know home repair?” he asked. My body stood still knowing exactly where this question was going. I wanted to talk about this like, say, never. But he had been really nice all day and he was hot, so I shrugged and gave him the dime store story.

“My parents weren’t the best, but I had this uncle, my dad’s oldest brother, and he had an auto shop. He knew what life was like at home, so he didn’t mind me hanging out there,” I shared, thinking it would be enough for him to drop it.

“How old were you?”

“When I first started going over there?” I stalled, my eyes on his bare feet covered by sand.

“Yeah.”

“Umm, like five, maybe six.” I shrugged meeting his gaze head-on. I didn’t miss it when something flickered in his eyes. I didn’t know him well enough to know what it meant or what he was thinking, but something about it made me want to keep sharing. “It was three streets down from the trailer park we lived at. I’d walk there.”

“And your mom was okay with that? A six-year-old walking the streets alone?”

“She was never going to win mother of the year, handsome.” I smiled, trying to act like I didn’t care. His jaw squared and I uncharacteristically kept sharing, “Anyhow, I sat and watched him a lot. Later, he would pull me over and teach me stuff.” I looked away from him. I wasn’t used to sharing that part of me, but there was something different about doing it with him that suddenly made me find myself unable to stop.

“He hit hard times and picked up handyman jobs. Side work to help keep his shop afloat so he wouldn’t have to let go of any of the guys who worked for him. Stuff got worse at home. My mom…she…well…” I stopped, because I didn’t have words. I didn’t know how to explain what Mommy Dearest becoming a full-fledged junkie had been like, so I didn’t even try. “During the summers on vacation and weekends, he’d pick me up and let me go with him. Taught me stuff.” I smiled, remembering how awesome Uncle Ron had been. How much I missed him. He had been the best. So much, I remembered wishing every night on every freaking star I could find that I’d wake up and he would be my dad. That I wouldn’t have to go back to that trailer.

“Why?” he asked softly, and I lifted my head to look at him.

“What?” I realized I had spoken out loud.

“Why didn’t you wanna be home?”

“Because it wasn’t a home. It was hell.” What am I doing sharing this shit with him? I chugged the rest of my beer down and stood, taking his empty bottle in my hands.

He was a cop and I could tell he was a good guy. There was no denying it. A good guy watched over his brother’s woman and child to make sure they were safe. A good guy played board games with his niece. A good guy who was close enough to his other brother that he would help Bryan lug shit over.

Too good for me.

I needed to wake up and get my shit back on right.

As nice as today had been, stolen touches here and warm, sexy looks there, I was still the girl who came from where she did and had learned that she didn’t need anyone.

“I’m gonna go inside,” I shared trying to fake a smile, feeling not only vulnerable but slightly awkward about what I’d shared.

“Don’t,” he said, grabbing my hand, his eyes pleading with me. ”Please stay, Blondie?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I warned so he wouldn’t use whatever Jedi detective skills on me to get me to talk.

“That’s fine.” He shrugged trying to act like he didn’t care what we talked about, but I saw it in his eyes.

He wanted to know more.

He would be the kind of man who would want to know everything. All just so he could fix it. Like some kind of prince in a fairy tale. Only those didn’t exist, and there was nothing he could fix about my past.

My mind quieted down when he stood up, my hand still in his. His large, muscular body was now in just a blue tank top that showed off the clear definition on his arms and shoulders and black gym shorts with stripes down the side that made you notice the way they hung low on his flat waist and molded to his thick, muscular thighs.

The air crackled between us. His head leaned down, and I didn’t look or back away. I was beyond stupid, standing there like his prey. If anything, I stood taller, leaned in slightly closer. Not smart, Val.

“Stay.”

“We shouldn’t do this,” I whispered against his lips, breathing his air. Loving the scent of his breath and skin. Bringing my bare feet up to their toes, I skimmed my nose along his.

“Stay out here with me,” he ordered hoarsely, and I almost moaned at the shivers that broke out on my skin.

“Bryan…”

“Nothing will happen that you don’t want.”

“Want isn’t the issue,” I admitted, unable to help myself.

My lips fell to his and we kissed. Soft and sweet. I let myself get lost in the slow haziness his lips took me under until he pulled away, taking me with him. Hand in hand, we walked out further toward the shore. Our feet reaching the wet sand still warm from the bright sun that was about to set.

“Have you ever watched that movie, you know, the one with all the superheroes?” he broke the silence with his out-of-nowhere question.

“I guess,” I muttered, confused at what he was talking about but still aroused by him. Being around him had woken up something that had been dormant.

“The guy who plays the guy with the cape, umm…”

“Oh! You talking about Marcus Wright? The one I said looked like Garrett?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, wondering what the hell he was talking about.

“Right. Him. What do you think about him?”

“He’s okay, I guess. I think I might have that movie back at home. Did you want to watch it?”

“God, no,” he scoffed and looked like he was trying to fight laughing.

“Okay…” I sounded out the word slowly, confused about why he was talking about some movie star that Hollywood got their panties in a bunch over with every little thing he did.

“He’s my brother,” he announced, making my head snap around to him. I tried to read his face to see if he was jerking me around, but I could immediately tell he wasn’t.

And he kept sharing, “I’m the youngest. It’s Garrett, who you met, and then Marc, and like I said, I’m the youngest. We have a friend, Donnie, who grew up right next to us, who’s like a brother, too. You’ll probably meet him soon.”

“Okay.”

“We grew up in central California. Moved to LA when I was in middle school.” He sat down, and since he was still holding my hand, I followed, both of us sitting side by side on the warm sand. The sun was starting to set, and the sky filled with orange and red hues.

“I married my high school girlfriend the minute I graduated college. We had a place about ten miles from here. I always thought this area was great,” he shared. I fought the urge to pull my hand away from him. “We were happy until we weren’t and called it quits.” There was a lot there and I didn’t know what to do with it, so I stayed quiet. Which was good, because he kept sharing, “When we split, we sold the place and I moved in with Marc. He had the space. His place is fucking huge. We all landed there. Garrett when he left the military, and Donnie when his crazy ex-girlfriend kicked him the fuck out. That was almost four years ago.”

“And now you’re here,” I stated the obvious and watched him nod.

“Now I’m here,” he repeated. We sat in silence for a while.

“Why now?” I asked him, curious what happened to light a fire under his ass after four years.

“What?” he asked, sounding surprised by my question.

“I mean, what happened that made you move now? Four years before this, and you didn’t think to leave?”

“I had thought about it.” He shrugged, and I smiled.

“Four years is a long time,” I pointed out. Not that I was anyone to talk, since I was living in and fixing up someone else’s place.

“Yeah.” He frowned toward the water.

“So? What made you make the move?” I pressed and immediately regretted it by the way his jaw clenched and he let go of my hand. His fingers played in the damp sand in front of him. He was trying to make his body seem relaxed, but he was far from it.

“Marcus fell in love, got engaged, and she has a kid.”

“Your niece?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you hate being around kids?” I asked, confused, since he had sounded like he liked spending time with her.

“What?” He chuckled, and I was glad to see him lighten up, his pale eyes meeting mine. “No. I don’t hate kids. I like ‘em. They just need their own space, you know? To be a family.”

“Are the other two moving out, too?”

“Marc and Grace don’t even live there.”

“Okay, handsome, I’m lost.”

“We went to Montana; Marc has a ranch there. Anyhow, my parents and grandmother showed up, and we all met Grace, Marc’s fiancée. They were there to be alone, but we got to spend some time with them. Lunches and shit. Anyhow, watching them together made me realize I needed to find my own life. After the divorce, I let my life revolve around work and my family.”

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” I pointed out.

“I guess. But it was time for me to start up again. Go out, meet new people, make friends that weren’t related to me. Hell, date.” The air changed around us just as the sun started to set. With it, the small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe life had something good in store for me extinguished.

“Your ex was your high school sweetheart and wife, and now it’s time to sow your wild oats? Fun. No commitment. Right?” I asked, my back going ram rod straight. I get it now. I understood what was going on.

“What?” he asked, watching my legs as I stood, patting the sand off my denim-clad ass.

“I got the message, handsome. Trust me, I’m not looking for anyone to put a ring on it.” I shook my head. “I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?” He stood, and I turned to look at him.

“To my room. To read and then to sleep. I get the message loud and clear,” I said over my shoulder as I made my trek back to the house.

I stomped my feet on the welcome mat by the back door of the house, my heart thundering with too many emotions. What the hell was that about?

I’d kissed guys.

I’d had a one-night stand once.

This guy was something else! Worming his way in only to tell me he’s what? Sorry he can’t commit? Not that I wanted that.

“What is your problem?” he asked, his hands on my waist turning me around.

“I’m not your type.”

“My type?” he asked, a brow moving up higher than the other, and I tried to ignore how sexy that made him look.

“Just. Ugh.” I stomped my foot, the sand annoying me, and looked at him. “I don’t believe in happily-ever-afters,” I lied, not sure why, but I did. “I don’t do relationships.” That was the truth. “My only friend, and right now he isn’t even that, is Vaughn. But if you were thinking about having me be your little scratching post while you live the male version of Sex in the City as you work on getting your groove back, that isn’t me, either.”

“Val—“

“I think we should try the whole staying-out-of-each-other’s-way idea from here on out.”

“Blondie…”

“It was a couple of kisses here and there, and I mean, they were just okay.” I shrugged, blatantly lying. He growled and moved forward, while my own feet went back until my body touched the still closed door.

“Just okay?” He caged me in. As good as he smelled and felt, I was in a fit of my own, so I looked at him trying not to show the effect he had on me.

“And this caging-me-in thing you do, not a good call, either.” His leg moved to between my thighs, and instinctively, without thinking, I parted them, so his thick thigh could come in between.

“It was better than okay,” he growled.

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

“I’m not interested in whoring myself out, and trust me, my groove didn’t go anywhere.” He spoke into the crook of my neck. His voice was deep but smooth, like silk gliding over my skin, making me shiver. My nipples tightened, and my breasts were suddenly heavy as warmth pooled between my legs.

Why am I so damn attracted to him?

“You shared, so I thought the nice thing would be to return the favor. I wasn’t done sharing before you did your little push and pull act back there. I’ve dated. I’ve met great women. I’ve met crazy women. What I haven’t met is anyone who has kept me interested or on my toes. I haven’t. At all—“

“So sad for you—“

“Until yesterday morning when a sweet little blond goddess wrapped up in a towel thought I was gay.”

“Well…” I cleared my throat, pressing the back of my head on the wood of the door behind me so I could look at him. “I just…“ Had no idea of what to say, words lodged in my throat as I took in how he was looking at me.

“Shut it,” he snapped, and I frowned.

“You can’t just tell me to shut it.”

“I just did. I like you. You’re fucking gorgeous—”

“I’m no—“

“You are,” he repeated without missing a beat. His hand came up to stroke my face, and I took a long, shuttered breath. “I wasn’t trying to give you the wrong idea. I just wanted you to know me, because it was obvious you shared shit you don’t share with just anyone.”

“Okay,” I whispered. Maybe he is more observant than I gave him credit for? Regardless, I needed to keep my distance. “I still think we should avoid each other.”

“Val—”

“No. Listen.” I shook my head.

Nerves mixed with an aching need did nothing to help with my concentration. It all swirled inside of me. making me tremble in his arms. Impossible to think of anything other than how damn good he felt in front of me. Caging me against the door. The endless possibilities of how he could take me and make me feel bombarded my mind so much I had to shake my head. “I don’t do relationships.”

“I heard you the first time,” he rebutted, and I sighed, recognizing the stubbornness in his voice before something flashed in his slate-like eyes.

Then he surprised me. “I’m not very good at them, either.”

“Right,” I scoffed, then without thinking, I ran my mouth. “You married your high school sweetheart,” I meanly pointed out, and he shared a sad smile.

“But, like I said, it didn’t work.”

“Why?” I asked and regretted it when I saw the raw pain radiate through his eyes.

“Shit happens. I wasn’t the kind of guy she needed. I couldn’t give her what she wanted,” he answered vaguely. From what I could tell, he was the type of guy any girl could ever want. Before I could say anything else, he kept talking, “I should let you avoid me.”

My stomach dropped. My pulse at my neck picked up at the thought. I don’t want him to do that.

“But I’m not,” he shared, his thumb stroking my chin as sweet relief washed over me. Relief that I was not going to think about and over-analyze. Liar, a voice in my head chimed.

I was totally going to over-analyze the hell out of what he made me feel.

Later.

BRYAN

He liked the way she felt pressed up against him, but he knew he couldn’t keep her there. He couldn’t get what he wanted.

Not yet.

Garrett would be there to pick him up in less than an hour. If he was going to start anything with the curvy goddess in front of him, he was going to do it on a night where they both had their phones shut off and nothing planned for at least the next forty-eight hours.

When she’d shared about her childhood, his entire being hurt at not being able to comfort or hold her. But he knew she wouldn’t appreciate him doing anything of the sort. He didn’t know her, but thankfully, he had read her right.

That afternoon, running simple errands and working on the bathroom with her, had made him feel happier than he had in a long time. He liked being around her, and not only because she had the most perfect ass known to man.

“Bryan,” she whispered, snapping him out of his thoughts. The vulnerability that shined in her eyes made him put the brakes on whatever his body might want.

“Let’s turn the AC on inside, get something to eat, and watch some TV before Garrett comes over,” he suggested, peeling his body off her. But he couldn’t break all touch from her.

His fingers skimmed hers; he enjoyed the way she didn’t seem to want to let go of him, either. But he saw it in her face when she realized what she was doing before he let his hand drop from hers and moved away.

With her arms crossed over her chest, she gave him a playful eye roll. “Fine,” she huffed, trying to act like she wasn’t affected by him.

But she was easy to read.

She was more than affected by him. She was just as turned on, which worked for him, because he could swear he was going to need to find a moment to jerk one out before they had company.

“But don’t think we’re about to sit and watch Sports Center or something.” She was fucking adorable as she semi-stomped past him, but he didn’t move to give her the space she needed. Her sexy body brushed by his, and he watched the pink tinge on her cheeks brighten when she realized she skimmed past his erection. He didn’t mind her knowing how he felt. Even through the air of innocence that little blush gave her, she surprised him by turning to him. “And put that thing away, mister!” she told him. “We’re not going to play hide the popsicle anytime soon.”

He felt his lips quirk up. “So you do admit we will be playing eventually?”

“What?” Her face was now beet red. He laughed and wrapped and arm around her shoulder.

“Relax, Blondie,” he murmured into her ear as he led the way to the living room.

Settling into the couch like the gentleman his mom and grandmother brought up, he let her pick what to watch. He brought them glasses of ice water, thinking they didn’t need any more alcohol. Not that they’d had a lot to drink, but the sexual tension that sat between them snapped and crackled sparking hot. He might want her, but he wanted her to come to him out of her own free will, not because her inhibitions were impaired.

When he walked into the living room, his heart stuttered in his chest when his eyes met the vision in front of him.

Sprawled out on the couch, her thick, blond hair pulled up high in those messy buns girls created at the top of her head, exposing the sexy line of her neck was only the tip of the iceberg at how sexy she was. Without an ounce of make-up on her flawless face and her long, tanned legs kicked out on the couch looking silky soft, she made his mouth run dry. Gazing back up her body, he noted how she hugged the pillow to her front, and he wished he could switch places. With a fucking pillow. Shaking his head, he handed her a glass of water and went to sit on the other couch. He needed to put some space between them. He didn’t know her, but what he did know more than impressed him.

“Where do you work?” he asked before taking a sip of his water, placing it on the side table next to him.

“Cedars. In the ER,” she said without looking at him, her attention on the TV, and he frowned and looked over.

“What the are you watching?”

“The Kardashians.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me?” Well, he found her first flaw. So, the little goddess wasn’t perfect?

“No, why?” she asked, not bothering to turn to look at him, her thumbnail going to her lip. “I love this show.”

“Great,” he muttered and settled deeper into the couch thinking, why couldn’t his brother interrupt this shit? Ultimately, it was Bryan’s fault for telling her to pick whatever she wanted. He glanced over at her and saw her sweet body slightly shake, and then he heard her laughter ring out into the air.

“You’re messing with me!” he said, standing then going over to her. Her laughter was more than contagious. His mixed with hers, both their laughter ringing in the air when he picked her up and settled her into his lap on the comfortable couch. “You think that was funny, huh?”

“I know it was.” She beamed at him, catching her breath from her heavy laughter. “You should have seen your face.” He frowned.

“You weren’t even looking at me,” he pointed out, and she grinned bigger, her eyes wide with mirth, before pointing at the mirror on the wall.

“Are you sure you’re a detective?” she asked him again. He shook his head, his hands moving to her waist, surprise hitting her face. She knew exactly what he had in mind.

“No. No, please, I don’t like to be tickl—” But before she could say anything, he started to tickle her. He brought her body beneath his, ignoring the perfect way she felt there. His fingers tickled her soft sides as her laughter rang out, mixing with her pleas for him to stop.

“That’s funny, Blondie. I think this is a lot funnier,”

“Not my fault you’re such a-ha, easy mark!” She giggled as his hands went below her arms.

“Ow! Ow...wait. Stop. Ouch,” she started to say, and he froze, worried he might have hurt her. He should have known better. Valerie Duncan was unlike any woman he had ever met.

The moment he stopped, she used it to her advantage, bucking her body up, surprising him when her hands moved to his sides. She started her own defensive tickle against him, making him squirm.

He laughed out loud while her hands skimmed and hit spots on his torso he had no idea were sensitive or ticklish. He shifted and bucked, losing man points with the laughter that was coming out of him.

He was ticklish.

Who would have known?

Three minutes later, they rolled off the couch and thumped right onto the hardwood floor. His hand protectively cupped the back of her head, rolling her over so his back was on the hard ground. Her luscious body landed on top of his, her legs on either side of him.

So much for keeping my hands to myself.

She rocked her hips and they both froze when they realized how they had landed. Now that she was straddling him, her warm center, though covered by her tiny shorts, sat right on the hardened ridge of his cock. It felt so good he was tempted to close his eyes and enjoy it. But the eyeful in front of him was too beautiful to miss.

Her long locks had come undone from the messy bun she’d had her hair in, strands falling around them like a curtain shielding them from the world. Her chest heaved up and down. They were both out of breath from tickling one another, and for the first time in his life, everything went still. The world magically stopped, and the only thing that existed was the gorgeous goddess and him.

He held his body tight as he looked up at her. Silently praying for her kiss. Her hand moved achingly slowly from his shoulders down to his chest, her long, delicate fingers leaving a trail of heat behind over his shirt, and he wished he were shirtless.

Everything in him screamed to pull her in and kiss her while at the same time urged him to pull away and give them space. Instead, he waited.

He wanted her to know that she could trust him. She breathed in deeply and leaned her front closer to his, pressing her beautiful tits to his chest. Her lips were about to touch his. His heart was beating furiously with anticipation. Her lips were almost on his, so close he felt her breath on his. Her candy-pink tongue peeked out, licking her lower lip, and just as he watched her sage eyes close slowly, a loud banging came at the door and with it bursting whatever bubble they had found themselves in.

She jumped off him, clearly startled. His arm covered his eyes as he muttered a curse. Another knock on the door, and with a groan, he stood up off the floor to his full height and looked over at the door then back at her.

“I, umm, I’m gonna go read.” Her voice was low and husky. “Have fun with your brother,” she quickly added as he tried to calm his body down. He didn’t want to greet his brother with a massive hard-on.

“Right.” He cleared his voice.

When he opened his mouth to invite her to go with them, another knock came, this one louder than the others. She blushed, clearly flustered and maybe a little embarrassed about being interrupted. Nodding her head and giving him a cute little wave, she left and went directly to her bedroom, the door gently closing behind her.

His hands on his head, he blew out a ragged breath.

Fucking Garrett and his bad timing.