Chapter Thirteen
The beginning of the week went by in a blur. Brady worked overtime getting Mia’s car done. He wanted it perfect for her. On Monday, he’d gone home, shoved some food in his mouth, managed a quick shower, and fallen asleep on the couch. Maybe he was coming down with something. Or maybe he was just tired. Justin was out of the apartment early Monday and Tuesday morning, but Brady got up early Wednesday so he could catch him before he left.
Justin leaned against the kitchen counter eating cereal when Brady came into the kitchen yawning. Going for the coffeemaker, he nodded a hello to his nephew.
“Want some cereal?” Justin asked.
“No thanks. I’ll grab something on the way to work. Listen, kid, we need to talk.”
Justin groaned and shoved a large spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth. Brady arched an eyebrow and poured himself a cup of caffeine. “Convenient.”
Justin mumbled something unintelligible around his smile. Taking a sip of the coffee, Brady sighed. Three things could make a morning perfect: a great cup of coffee, a gorgeous woman, and a kick-ass car. Brady’s morning was going to involve all three.
When he scooped up the last of what was in his bowl, Justin rinsed the dish and put it in the dishwasher. Brady had hoped after a few days, Justin would feel comfortable opening up, but he could understand why his nephew wasn’t forthcoming.
“What other work does Mia have planned for you?”
Justin’s brows went up, like he’d expected a different topic. “Uh, she wants some stuff done in the basement. You guys had some problems in the storage area?”
Brady nodded. “You could say that.”
“Well, she wants more shelving put in and I said I could do it. Plus, she needs more painting done, and she said there’ll be more, but she’ll let me know.”
“You can work at the garage when she doesn’t have anything for you. What about school?”
Justin leaned forward, his eyes still watching Brady closely. “I graduated. You sent me a check and a card this past June.”
Brady ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I know that. I meant are you planning on college?”
Justin shrugged. “I don’t know. It’d be the end of winter session now. Summer classes don’t start until May. Maybe. I wouldn’t mind doing some business courses, but honestly, I really like working with my hands. I’m pretty good at building things.”
“Okay. That’s a start. If you want to stay here, I’m cool with that, but I do need to know what’s going on.”
Justin’s body tensed—Brady could see the way his jaw clenched, like he was steeling himself for the worst.
He purposely softened his voice. “Just wait…hear me out. You’ll always be welcome to live with me—this apartment is plenty big enough for both of us, but if you aren’t in school, you pay rent. Not much, but something. You chip in on food and you help out by doing your own laundry and cleaning up after yourself,” Brady said.
Justin crossed his ankles, a seemingly casual pose against the counter, but Brady could read the nerves in his eyes. “Okay. Sounds fair.”
“I try to be. But no secrets. Tell me why your dad needed time,” Brady said.
Justin’s face went pale. He pushed off the counter and walked out of the kitchen. Brady followed him, but kept his distance as his nephew walked to the window and stared out at the early morning view of the city. “I didn’t say he needed time. You talked to him.”
Crap. “Yeah. I talked to him.”
Justin’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. Sunlight glinted through the window.
“You talked to him. He told you. And you’re going to let me stay?”
Brady stood but kept his distance. The room wasn’t that big and he didn’t want to crowd the kid. “Turn around, Justin.”
He did so, slowly. Nerves made him look at least five years younger and Brady’s heart ached.
“You’re going to let me stay?”
“Tell me why your dad asked you to go, Justin.”
Justin’s eyes went wide and he took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Why?”
Brady lowered his voice and stepped closer. “Because you need to say it and not have someone turn away. Because you need to say it and know there’s nothing wrong with who you are or what you want.”
Barely an arm’s length from his nephew now, he saw the dampness in Justin’s eyes. Justin shook his head, but Brady kept walking until they were nearly toe to toe.
“Justin.”
Justin sniffed loudly, looked down at his feet. His voice was muffled when he spoke. “He said I was a disappointment, and until I could make a choice he could be proud of, maybe I was better off on my own.”
Brady pressed his teeth together so hard it hurt. He gripped Justin’s shoulder. “Look at me.”
Justin looked up and a tear trailed down his cheek. Brady’s heart cracked, but he pushed anyway. “Tell me. I won’t let you down.”
Justin bit his lip then inhaled sharply. “I’m gay.”
Brady squeezed his shoulder. “Okay.”
Justin gave a watery laugh. “Okay? That’s it? All that for okay?”
It was Brady’s turn to shrug. “You’re you, Justin. I love you. If you’re happy and a good person, nothing else matters.”
Justin shook his head, like he couldn’t believe someone would accept him that easily. “You’re not going to tell me it’s a phase? That I haven’t met the right woman?”
Brady laughed without humor. It came out more like a sigh. “Hell, kid. I’m the last person to give relationship advice.”
He dropped his hand and shoved both in his pockets. “But here’s what I do know, you’re a good person. You’ve got a good heart. You’re a hard worker, and I’m proud as hell to be your uncle.”
Justin’s jaw clenched and unclenched and then he threw his arms around Brady, knocking him back a step. Brady laughed for real and pulled his hands out of his pockets, patting Justin on the back.
Justin pulled back, beaming. “You’re cool, Uncle B.”
“You’re pretty cool yourself. What about your mom?”
Justin’s smile disappeared. “I never told her, but I think she knows. She’s getting married.”
“Okay. What happened then?”
Putting some space between them, Justin walked to the fireplace and ran his hand along the mantle. “Her husband-to-be said the best wedding gift for my mom would be to start this new phase in her life without guilt or the responsibility of her last marriage getting in the way.”
“What an ass. But did you talk to your mom?”
Justin shook his head. “No. I just said I wanted to go see Dad, and she didn’t try to talk me out of it.”
“You have to do what you feel is right, Justin, but you should think about talking to your mom. Sounds like her fiancé is worried about sharing attention, but that doesn’t mean it’s what your mom wants.”
Another shrug. If Brady was going to be living with a teenager/almost adult, he was going to need to become more adept at reading shrugs. Wyatt would probably communicate perfectly with Justin.
Another thought occurred to him and made his pulse pick up speed. “Uh…listen, you don’t need like a safe sex talk, do you?”
Justin frowned then grinned, wide and cocky. “Because I’m gay?”
Brady’s cheeks warmed. “No! Because you’re a teenage guy. You know how to stay safe and all that?”
Justin’s eyes widened for a split second and then he laughed, hard. “Yeah. I’m good, Uncle Brady. But thanks.”
This time, Brady shrugged. What did he know about giving “the talk?” “Okay. Well. You can talk to me about whatever you want. If you want.”
Giving himself a second to breathe, extremely grateful he didn’t have to do the whole birds and bees talk—why is it even called that?—Brady went to the kitchen and grabbed them a couple of waters.
Justin laughed again, his shoulders and expression relaxed. “Same goes, Uncle B.”
“Huh?” He passed Justin a water.
The smile still lit his nephew’s face, right up to his eyes. “If you want to talk about Mi—Ms. Kendrick.”
Jesus. He’d kissed her and none of them even knew about it. “I’m good, kid. Thanks.”
Shaking his head, heat crawling up his neck, Brady went back for his coffee. “I’m heading to work.”
Gulping down the rest, he clapped Justin on the shoulder on his way past. He’d grab another coffee on the way in. He got his shoes on and was about to grab his keys when he heard his name.
“What?”
“You see this?” Justin had his phone out and was scrolling through.
Brady glanced at the screen when Justin turned it. Air caught in his throat. He cleared it and hoped his voice was nonchalant. Pictures of Mia kissing a good-looking, very polished—like GQ-polished—guy.
“Not the first time she’s been photographed,” Brady said. He’d done his share of internet searching over the holidays when she’d been calling him every ten minutes to get updates on the building.
He could feel Justin’s eyes on him, but kept staring at the screen.
“I thought you liked her?”
Brady laughed. “Then you haven’t been paying very close attention, kid. I gotta go,” he said, letting himself out.
None of your business. So she kissed another guy this week. You don’t even date in your building so what’s the issue? The issue was thinking, for even a second, that a woman like Mia—one who fit the GQ-polished guy like she did her power suits—would be interested in a guy like Brady. Worlds apart.
Deciding he wouldn’t let it wreck his mood, he swung by her office anyway. Nerves pummelled his stomach. But he couldn’t hide the smile.
She was staring intently at some paperwork on her desk when he stopped in the doorway. The jump in the heart just from seeing her irritated him.
“Your car will be ready today. I can have someone drive it over,” he said.
“Hi,” she said, looking up from her work.
He was probably imagining that her eyes warmed when they locked on his. He saw the hint of exhaustion in her dark eyes, but she was perfectly put together. As usual. He loved the way she dressed, but it definitely highlighted what he already knew: they weren’t exactly a match in fashion heaven. Jeans and T-shirts were his go-to. He had a fondness for funny sayings or expressions, like the one he wore this morning that read “Mechanics are real superheroes.”
Anticipation tap-danced in his stomach. “Early start,” he said, gesturing to the pile. It wasn’t even seven yet.
She leaned back in her chair. “I could say the same to you.”
When she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, his eyes tracked the movement. The kiss had seriously thrown him for a loop. He’d kissed women. He enjoyed kissing. But kissing Mia was on a whole other plane from anything he’d experienced. No other woman made him consider throwing his own close-to-home rules out the window. Shay and Gabby were both good-looking and sweet, but for them, he felt nothing more than friendship. An old tenant, Shanna, had flirted with him before she’d settled down, and Brady hadn’t even been tempted. With Mia, all he felt was temptation. And the desire for more.
“You’re staring,” she said in an almost whisper.
He stepped closer to the desk. “Hard not to.”
Mia looked down. Shy didn’t seem like her thing, but he’d already proven he had a lot to learn about her.
Self-preservation warred with lust. With a low chuckle, he leaned a hip against her desk. “Come on. You must know you’re beautiful. You have a mirror, right?”
Teasing her was a new high. She looked up and the corners of her mouth quirked. “Yes. And thank you.”
Her gaze was…hesitant. She felt whatever this was just as much as he did. The tension in his stomach snowballed into desire. She was completely out of his league, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Go out with me tonight.”
“What?”
Damn. So much for self-preservation. Or rules or common sense. “I’m pretty sure you heard me.”
Pushing away from the desk, she stood and then realized she’d trapped herself between where he leaned and her chair.
“It’s really not a good idea, Brady. We live in the same building. I’m your landlord. We’ve barely gone forty-eight hours without a fight. And we don’t entirely trust each other.”
All things he’d said to himself. How pathetic was he that he wanted to count the fact that they’d both thought it as something in common? He knew there was more to it—he heard the hesitation in her voice—and the things he didn’t know, that she hadn’t yet told him, added weight to his shoulders. Still, he couldn’t stop himself. Brady took her wrist in his hand and stroked his thumb over the smooth skin there. “And yet, you haven’t said ‘no.’”
She stood beside him, but he sensed her need to fidget, like energy was coursing through her. He definitely understood the sensation. His no-dating-within-the-building policy didn’t matter to him if she said yes. It was his rule so he could bend it, break it, or throw it the hell out.
“I’m working toward something. I don’t want to be sidetracked.” She winced.
Working on what? Stop thinking every woman has an ulterior motive or underhanded plan. Focus on the good. “Do I distract you?”
She tilted her head and huffed out a sigh. “One way or another. Yes. You do. And you know it. I have a thing tonight that I can’t get out of.”
Brady dropped her wrist and stood. He thought she was evading something, but maybe he’d been right all along. Maybe she just didn’t think he was worth her time. She tilted her head back to keep eye contact.
“Is it something I could take you to?”
“Uh…it’s a monthly commitment. It’s not really a dating venue.”
His skin prickled. It was probably some fancy upper-crust soiree she didn’t think he’d fit into. Maybe GQ Guy was taking her.
“I own a suit, you know,” he said. His tone was curt.
“Okay,” she said. She scrunched her brows together.
“Just in case you think I can’t dress up for some extravagant shindig. I can even speak in full sentences for a whole evening and not talk about cars.”
Mia’s mouth dropped open and she put her hands on her hips. He’d liked having his own hands there.
“You know what? You can absolutely take me. You don’t need a suit. What you’re wearing is fine.”
He didn’t understand the challenge in her voice, but he was on board. “What time and where are we going?” Brady didn’t want to back down from this fight, despite common sense tapping rapidly on his shoulder.
She stepped closer, nearly touching him. His fingers curled into fists so he didn’t reach out and yank her against him.
“Meet me here at six and it’s a surprise.”
Partially amused and somewhat confused, he shook his head and then leaned down and gave her chaste kiss.
“Fine.”
Smiling, she patted his chest. “Fine. See you tonight, Brady.”
...
Brady thought double takes were for slapstick comedy. But that didn’t stop him from doing one when he walked into Mia’s office at five to six that evening and found her in jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt. Her hair was tied back, but the ponytail was low and kind of sporty. She looked soft and sweet, with not a touch of makeup that he could see. Clearly, she wasn’t taking him on the red carpet.
“Right on time. I like that,” she said.
She took her coat from the coatrack in the corner and when he helped her into it, he let his hands rest on her shoulders a moment. Then he lifted her hair out of the collar.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“My pleasure. Where are we going?”
She looked up over her shoulder. “You’ll see.”
He couldn’t argue when he’d done the same. When they got to the parking garage, they started toward her Lexus. He’d had it delivered to her during the day.
“We could take my car and I can show you how to handle a stick,” he said.
She stopped walking and looked up at him. “What makes you think I can’t?”
He grinned. “Your car is automatic.”
She put her hands on her hips and gave him a pouty glare. “Did it occur to you that was a choice?”
Brady chuckled. “No. Because stick is way more fun.”
Mia rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “But not as practical.”
Brady laughed and walked alongside her to the sleek silver car. “Some things are more important than practical. Like the feel of punching the clutch as you slide into fifth.”
“You know, your voice goes all husky when you talk about cars. I’m not sure I should have left you alone with mine. Don’t want you getting attachment issues.”
The words were playful, but the worry rippled through him because he knew it could happen. And not with her car. “No worries. If she were a stick, maybe.”
Mia smacked his stomach playfully and he caught her hand. “There’s a reason people make jokes about boys and their toys.”
“I can’t deny that.”
As he slid in the passenger side, Brady’s chest filled with pride. Any shop would have cleaned her up, but he’d gone above and beyond. It was showroom clean, but smelled sweet and fresh like her. Like warm sugar. She pressed the button on the ignition and pulled her seat belt on. When she saw him watching her, she froze.
“What?”
“You look really pretty. All dressed up, you’re one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met. But jeans and a T-shirt? Heart-stopping.”
And so was the smile she gave him. Leaning in, he gave her a soft kiss, letting his mouth linger on hers.
She pulled back and sat up straight. “You’re supposed to wait until the end of the night to kiss me.”
Brady laughed and buckled up. “I don’t like that rule.” Or several of his others apparently.
“There’s a surprise,” she said.
She pulled out of her spot and he leaned back into the soft leather seats. There wasn’t much traffic, particularly since she started to head out of town. He didn’t ask where they were going because he liked being beside her and the destination didn’t matter.
“The car looks and runs great. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” It really had been.
“I got the invoice, but it didn’t list the detailing cost,” she said, her hands on the wheel.
“No charge.”
She glanced his way and he saw her lips tighten before she spoke in that prim way she had. “I will not take—”
Brady held up a hand. “Don’t even know what you’re going to say, but stop. There’s no charge because I’m hoping you’ll spread the word to your fancy friends.”
Mia scoffed, which didn’t suit her, but made him smile. “I don’t have fancy friends.”
“Sure. And they don’t drive hundred-thousand-dollar vehicles like your brother,” he said.
“Given the opportunity, I will definitely spread the word, but I’m not sure my brother would take my suggestion. He’s not exactly a fan of my opinion.”
“I hear that. I’m not really a fan of my brother’s opinion. But you know what, you don’t choose your family. You choose your friends and make them your family.”
Mia drove with ease and confidence. Sometimes after an accident, people were hesitant. He was glad to see she wasn’t.
“You really believe that?”
“Sure. Owen and Gabby are my best friends. I’d rather spend the holidays with them than my brother. And likewise, my brother doesn’t want much to do with me. Not even sure where he spent last Christmas.”
He’d like to pretend it didn’t bug him, but even he could hear the hurt in his tone.
“That’s sad. It shouldn’t be like that. I understand, though. Michael doesn’t make it easy to spend an evening with him, much less a holiday.”
Brady curled his fingers in his lap. “Shouldn’t be that way, but when it is, it’s comforting to know there are others in your life to step up and pull you in.”
She nodded but didn’t look convinced. He liked having her drive. He could stare at her a little without her commenting on it. She had a striking profile. With her hair tied back loosely, he could see how elegant the curve of her neck was. He thought of kissing her there.
“I can feel you staring at me. Stop it,” she said. She smiled at him.
“Hard to stop. I like what I see,” he said.
“Which is strange, since we weren’t even sure if we liked each other.”
Brady pursed his lips and thought about that. She wasn’t wrong. But, obviously, the fighting had hidden some attraction that now felt too strong to ignore. “Maybe we were both wrong about each other.”
The image of her kissing some guy popped into his head. “You seeing anyone?”
Mia took the entrance for the freeway and Brady stayed silent. She’d either tell him or she wouldn’t.
“You saw the photos.”
Brady’s heart beat heavy in his chest. “Maybe.”
“Funny thing about photographs: they don’t always tell the whole story.”
“Wasn’t judging you. Just asked if you were seeing anyone.” She could just say yes.
The collar of his T-shirt felt restrictive. He stared out the window, watching the lights fly by in the other direction.
“Jonathan and I are friends. We dated years ago, but there was no chemistry. We met up for lunch the other day. I didn’t even see a photographer.”
“No spark, huh?”
“We’re friends. It wasn’t the first time the society pages have gotten the wrong story. It won’t be the last. I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you if I was seeing someone. For all of your doubts about me, I hope you at least believe that.”
He must or he wouldn’t have followed through with the evening. Despite the fact she got under his skin like no other woman had, he was really starting to like being around her. She was smart and funny and surprisingly down to earth.
“I do.”
“Good.”
“His family owns hotels,” Brady said, wondering why he didn’t just drop the subject.
Mia groaned. “Yes, they do. But I don’t want to talk about Jonathan right now.”
Jonathan. Jonathan GQ Conroy. Brady was frowning when Mia pulled into the parking lot of a cement gray building. A sign hung in the front that said BAY STREET MISSION. There were no windows on the front of the building, just a dark wooden door. She drove to the rear of the building and parked next to an aging pickup and a couple of small sedans.
Only one dingy streetlamp cast light on the black concrete. When he got out of the car, he looked around. The back of other similar buildings butted up against a fence at the end of the lot. There were a couple of dumpsters along the far side of the lot. It wasn’t exactly the Four Seasons.
“You would have come here by yourself tonight?”
She waited for him to join her on her side of the car. He lost his train of thought for a second when she took his hand. “I would have. I park right by the door and someone usually walks me out. Tonight, that can be you,” she said.
Tonight. And what about the next time? Was he someone Mia would consider an actual relationship with? She’d brought him here and he didn’t think she’d bring just anyone. She stopped at the metal door and banged her open palm on it, then stepped back. Grinning up at him, she asked, “Not even going to ask?”
“I trust you,” he said. Unease coiled in his gut and he forced himself to relax.
Sparks lit her gaze and she went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was barely a second, but he felt it through to his bones. She was like warmth on a cold night. The door swung open.
“Mia. Right on time. How you doing, hon?” The big burly man in a chef’s hat and apron asked her. The white scruff of a five o’clock shadow covered his jaw.
“Hey, Al. I brought a friend. This is Brady. Brady, this is Al.”
“Any friend of Mia’s and all that jazz. Get in here. It’s cold and I have six dozen carrots for you to peel.”
Brady followed her into a standard professional kitchen. Bay Street Mission. They were at a soup kitchen. No media, no limelight. Her plans for the evening involved feeding the homeless.
She took off her jacket and looked at him expectantly. He realized she wanted his, too, and shrugged it off. As she started past him, she stopped and her lips tilted up. Not quite a smile, but she exuded cockiness, which he found really freaking hot.
“Not exactly the kind of place you wear a suit, right?”
Brady nodded, knowing he’d judged her like a jerk. Based on nothing because every time he thought he knew something about her, she proved him wrong.
“Come on back, I’ll set you up while Mia says hello and puts away your coats,” Al said.
His stomach led the way, which Brady figured boded well for his cooking. Mia joined him at the sink where Al had instructed him to start peeling potatoes. That was not his favorite thing to do, but since she was standing beside him, doing the same with carrots, it didn’t seem so bad.
“So this is what you do for fun?” he teased.
“It reminds me how lucky I am,” she said honestly.
“Definitely one way to put it into perspective, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
They worked in companionable silence, peeling, washing, and chopping. Al sang sixties love songs while he mixed spices and flavors that made Brady’s stomach growl.
“How often do you come here?” Brady scooped up peelings and transferred them to the trash bin.
“Once a month. It’s not a lot.”
“People always think it takes a lot to make a difference. But it doesn’t. Just takes showing up and caring,” Al put in as he walked past them.
Mia hooked a thumb at him. “What he said.”
When they’d finished prepping carrots and potatoes, Al had them peeling apples for a cobbler. Again, they worked side by side. A few others washed dishes, helped with set up, and prepped condiments. Every person there treated Mia as another helper. Not a woman who could jet off at a moment’s notice to wherever she’d like. She could have done anything tonight and she’d chosen to be here. Brady realized two things when she put her knife down and met his gaze: he was staring at her again and he’d misjudged her.
He chucked an apple core in the trash when he’d finished slicing it. “You want to grab something to eat after this?”
“Sure. How about Sergio’s or One?”
His knife slipped on the next peel when she mentioned two of the most expensive restaurants he’d heard of. They didn’t have a reservation. He probably couldn’t even make one. They were both the kinds of places people had to know someone to get in the door.
“You’re so funny, Brady. I’m messing with you. We can grab some burgers and head home if you want?”
His heart rate returned to normal knowing he wasn’t going to have to request another loan to take her to dinner.
They helped clean up and said good night. He was glad she had him beside her when they walked to the car. He was so lost in thought, he forgot to ask if he could drive.
“That was fun,” he said when they got in.
“I like it. I tried serving once, so I could get a chance to talk to people, but it makes me too sad. My father says I’m weakhearted.”
“Your father is wrong.”
“About a lot of things.”
When Mia pulled into the drive-through, he argued with her over paying for the burgers.
“I’m driving,” she said.
“Exactly. You drove. I pay.”
“That’s not a rule.”
“It is now.”
“Why do you get to make the rules?”
“Jesus, Mia. Just let me buy you a burger. You can make the next rule, okay?”
She laughed and he handed over a twenty. He’d never worked so hard to get a woman to let him buy her fast food. They ended up eating in the car because they didn’t want it to get cold on the ride home. By the time they pulled into the underground parking of their building, Brady was full and happy. He didn’t want the night to be over.
They took their time getting up to her apartment. He didn’t want to ask her if he could come in. He wanted it to be her choice.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” she said.
“Thanks for bringing me and for not letting me make a fool of myself by wearing a suit,” he said, taking her hand in his.
She laughed and came close, putting her head on his chest and her arms around his waist. Brady’s breath caught in his lungs as his arms came around her. It was such a simple and sweet gesture and the way she fit into his arms, her head tucked under his chin, had the muscles around his heart squeezing impossibly tight. He had no idea what they were doing or where this could possibly go, but in that second, it felt right. It felt necessary.
He stroked her hair, loving the feel of it beneath his palm. He tugged gently, getting her to look up at him.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a suit,” she said.
He leaned in so their noses were touching. Don’t do it. Don’t set yourself up. Go-karting and hanging at a soup kitchen were pretty casual events. His best friends’ engagement party was a big deal. Still, he whispered the words, “I’ll be wearing one this weekend.”
She closed her eyes and Brady used both hands to frame her face. He kissed her softly, memorizing the feel and shape and taste of her lips. When she sighed into his mouth, his heart sank like an anchor. Right at her feet. Crap. He hadn’t expected the rush of feelings. They were unfamiliar and frightening.
Mia broke the kiss first and her eyes fluttered open as she gave him a dreamy stare.
“This weekend?” she asked.
“Engagement party,” he reminded her.
“Right.”
She stared at him and his heart jumped. Who the hell got nervous about asking out a woman he’d already made out with?
“Would you go with me? To Owen and Gabby’s engagement party? I know Shay invited you, but maybe you’d go as my date?”
There. He’d officially asked her out. Screw his rule and his worries. He liked the feel of her in his arms and the taste of her mouth under his. Mia Kendrick wouldn’t be standing here with him if she didn’t want to be, so why shouldn’t he ask her out? Why was it taking so much effort to convince himself he was in her league?
“I think I’d like that,” she said. Then she smiled and made her brows go up and down in a cute and slightly awkward way. “Providing you don’t make me mad before Saturday.”
Brady laughed, giving her another kiss. “You know I can’t make that kind of promise.”
“Just try, okay?”
He nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
When he let himself into his apartment, it was quiet. Justin had turned in for the night—or, more likely, retreated to his room to play on his phone. As he got ready for bed, he thought about his desire to surround himself with family—even if it was of his own making. Now, he had his friends, his nephew, and an amazing woman in his life. It almost seemed like too much. Perfect was an illusion; just as easy to fall for as it was to shatter. But he couldn’t help feeling like right that second, his life was about as perfect as it could get.