Chapter 8
eight
MAC
The harsh sound of metal and rusty hinges woke me the following morning.
I squinted against the sunlight streaming in and tried to force my groggy brain to come online.
“Now, this is the best day of my life.”
The voice came from my cousin Laramie, who was silhouetted in the doorway of the shed.
I groaned as the night before came rushing back. Being trapped. Playing cards. Snuggling for warmth.
Oh, God .
“Just five more minutes,” the man beside me slurred as his arms tightened around my middle. Brady’s cold nose burrowed into my neck, and something large and impossibly hard ground firmly against my thigh as he shifted closer. Suddenly I was wide the fuck awake.
I heard the manufactured shutter sound of a phone camera snapping away, and I turned an incredulous glare on Larry.
“What?” She grinned. “This should be documented. For posterity.”
“You don’t even know what that means,” I hissed, extracting myself from the cocoon of uncomfortable blankets and the very prominent erection beneath them.
Larry wore a toboggan over her dark hair. Her perfectly lined eyes were wide with excitement as she held the door ajar and took in the situation.
Brady was still mumbling sleepily into the space I’d left behind.
“Have y’all been stuck in here all night?” Larry asked. “Hey! Are those my Twizzlers?”
I stood and slipped my socked feet back into my boots. “Yes, we got locked in, and your candy stash kept us alive.”
We both watched as Brady slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Not a morning person, is he?” my cousin murmured. “That feels important to note. Guess you’ll be the one making the coffee.”
“Shut up,” I whispered. Embarrassment was swiftly followed by defensiveness. I felt like I was in high school and I’d gotten busted for sneaking out. “It was an accident. The door closed, and everyone was gone. We didn’t have our phones.”
Larry’s grin was amused. “And you needed to conserve body heat?”
I glared.
“You know,” she said, “that works better when you’re both naked.”
“That’s what I tried to tell her,” Brady said, finally rising to his feet. His voice was rough from sleep, and now I knew how he sounded when he first woke up in the morning. Oh, God .
My gaze snapped to him, and, I’m not proud of this, my attention immediately lowered to his groin. But he was folding one of the moving blankets in front of him, and I couldn’t see anything. Not that I wanted to see anything. But it had felt surprisingly enor?—
“Thanks for the Twizzlers,” Brady said, interrupting the horrifying thoughts running through my brain. “They kept us alive in our time of need. I’ll buy you a new pack.”
“Oh, not necessary,” Larry said brightly. “Believe me, finding y’all has been payment enough. I’m just glad you and Mac didn’t freeze to death. ”
For whatever reason—and there were many—I couldn’t meet Brady’s gaze. I kept my head down and made for fresh air and freedom.
Uncomfortable truths were swirling around inside me like a tornado of destruction. Like the way Brady must have worn a different cologne last night or something because he didn’t smell like alpine yeti or whiskey-soaked machetes or whatever the hell Axe body spray was going for. When I’d snuggled against his side, he’d smelled like something warm and bright—a beach, complete with saltwater spray and glorious sunshine.
“Thanks for the rescue,” I heard Brady say when I’d stepped out into the shining light of early morning.
“No problem,” Larry replied as I rushed by her. I ignored the what-the-fuck look she was aiming my way. “This has been the second most exciting thing I’ve ever found in this shed.”
The wind tunnel of realization whipped another helpful fact my way. I was still attracted to Brady. The kiss wasn’t locked away and forgotten. It was a reminder, and every time I glanced at his lips, muscle memory had me leaning closer, seeking him out.
Brady’s voice was distant as I hustled away in near panic. “Guess she doesn’t want to grab breakfast.”
The unhelpful thoughts spun faster. How we’d barely fought at all last night, and even when we had, it had been fun, entertaining bickering. The way he always noticed me, and how much history existed between us. How he’d read my past relationships like an open book, then highlighted, color coded, and annotated them for maximum impact.
I didn’t want to think about the guy with a king of hearts pressed to his forehead. Or the fact that my nemesis couldn’t settle down and go to sleep knowing I was shivering across from him.
As I breezed through the pumpkin patch toward the General Store, knowledge continued to assault me. A teasing grin and a dimple in his right cheek. A playful quip that had me fighting a smile. A gentle hand rubbing warmth into my freezing back. A strong thigh beneath mine and a soft place to land. Steady optimism to combat my overwhelmed frustration. And an accident turned adventure. One that I’d enjoyed more than any date I’d ever been on .
As I closed and leaned against the door to the restroom in the General Store, I covered my face with my hands.
It came then. The most unfortunate truth of all. One that had me sucking in lungfuls of air.
Maybe I didn’t hate Brady Judd after all.
I didn’t go to the Friday night bonfire at Abby’s five days later. When Larry asked me with a knowing smirk what my big plans were instead, I gave her my best I-don’t-know-what-you-mean stare and told her to have fun without me.
Then, the following day, I’d worked my mother’s shift at the farmers’ market. My gaze strayed to the adjacent booth more times than I wanted to admit, but it had only been Mercer and Candace working the table for Judd’s.
The night in the shed had messed me up. It had shifted something out of alignment that no chiropractor could adjust. I was off-kilter and unsteady. Being aware of Brady—or attracted to him, whatever—had caused chaos to reign. I thought about him all the time. Replayed that illuminating and annoying conversation about the guys I’d dated not being enough for me. I wondered if he’d been genuine or if the real Brady was just playing some elaborate prank.
I’d been checking my Chatter app for notifications and new posts constantly. But so far, he’d been quiet. It was like he knew that being out of sight would drive me out of my fucking mind.
I wanted to see him, but I didn’t trust myself. I was scared I’d expose something, inadvertently show my hand. I worried I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes to myself or, worse, my hands and lips. Deep down, I knew that something big had changed—bigger even than the kiss that was playing on a loop in my head.
What would it be like to declare a truce with Brady Judd? And was this just some weird attraction that would pass in time?
I had many questions and zero answers. Mostly because I was too chickenshit to come face-to-face with him.
But when trivia night rolled around on Monday evening, I gave myself a stern talking-to. I’d had over a week to be a coward. That wasn’t who I was. MacKenzie Clark didn’t lose her mind over a man. Especially not one she’d seen eat his own boogers in preschool.
When I got to Trailview Brewing, the place was abuzz. Plastic vinyl panels enclosed the seating area to keep the cold out, and every picnic table was filled with people. A lot of them were locals, teams of folks I faced weekly for trivia. But the watering hole was also packed with tourists. The line at the bar had a dozen people. So I was grateful when I spotted Larry, Kayla, Bonnie, and Danny already seated with an extra beer waiting on me.
“I wondered if you’d show up,” Larry called with a grin while I stripped off my jacket.
“Why wouldn’t Mac show up?” Bonnie asked in confusion. My sister was a sweetheart, but I didn’t want to get into this right now. Larry thought the shed incident was hilarious, but, strangely, she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. And I hadn’t told a soul about getting locked in overnight with Brady.
Larry had always been convinced that Brady and I had the hots for each other, and I knew that was why she was giving me a hard time right now. That was partly why I was so reluctant to admit I was having ... feelings.
I slid onto the bench next to my sister and kicked Larry under the table. “Of course I’m here,” I said brightly. “Gotta lead this team to victory.”
Bonnie wrapped her arm around me and squeezed.
Larry was rubbing her shin beneath the table, and Kayla passed over the extra beer. “Here you go, Mac.”
“Thank you. I did not want to wait in that line.”
“I’m going out to the car for a minute,” Danny announced out of nowhere.
Bonnie frowned. “But?—”
“I’ll be back in a few,” he interrupted, standing with his phone in hand and shuffling off through the crowd without a backward glance for his wife.
Danny and Bonnie had been together since high school. They’d been a unit. Their relationship a fixture in my life since I was twelve years old. Danny had been part of our family for a very long time, attending festivals, birthday parties, and holiday gatherings .
He’d taught me how to drive a stick shift and change a tire. But Danny had been acting off for a while now. Distant and aloof. On his phone all the time.
I eyed my sister and took a sip of my beer.
She watched her husband with a frown before noticing me out of the corner of her eye. Her brows unfurled themselves, and she forced a smile. “Probably just needs to make a call,” she said quietly and then reached for her own glass.
Larry caught my eye, and we shared a brief look.
Bonnie was the peacemaker. She’d been an overachiever since birth. While her education and career had taken her away from the farm, she was still devoted to our family. Every dinner at Aunt Maggie’s, Bonnie showed up with bells on. She served on committees and volunteered her time. She was a people-pleaser through and through.
My sister taught art down at the elementary school, and she was great at it. So talented and good with the kids. You couldn’t go anywhere with her in Kirby Falls without running into her students or their parents. Everyone loved Bonnie. She’d been my playmate, my reliable older sister, and my confidant. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.
And she sure as hell deserved better than Danny Jensen.
There was a part of me that saw my sister and her husband as a cautionary tale. They represented the dangers of falling for someone so young, someone you’d known your whole life and latched on to before you were old enough to know better—to realize there was more out there than some farm boy who hadn’t done a damn thing to earn your heart besides exist in the same small town.
How could you meet the love of your life when you’d barely even lived it?
Bonnie cleared her throat, drawing my attention.
Larry and I went back to our drinks and kept our mouths shut. It was Kayla who spoke up. “Did y’all hear they had another scare over at Judd’s?”
My attention snapped to her. “What?”
Kayla nodded. “Yeah, last night. I heard someone came onto the property and triggered the motion sensors. They just got a glimpse of them on the cameras, but it was too dark, and whoever it was had their face covered. ”
Dread slithered up my spine, and for the first time since I’d walked in the door, I let my eyes seek out Brady. He was seated several tables away with Abby and Jase. As if he could feel me looking, his eyes found mine, and I glanced quickly away.
What did it mean that someone had tried to vandalize their orchard again? And did he still suspect me?
“Were they trying to paintball the property again?” Larry asked.
“No, no one saw a paintball gun or anything on the camera footage,” Kayla replied. “Or if they were planning on it, they got scared off before they had a chance to get their gear. There was no damage or anything. Brady got there real quick. He had the alerts set up on his phone. The sheriff’s department came out too, but they didn’t find anything.”
“Man, that’s weird,” Larry murmured.
“I’m glad there wasn’t any damage or anyone hurt,” Bonnie said.
Suddenly, all three of my tablemates were looking at me expectantly.
“What?”
“Aren’t you going to say something?” Larry asked.
I frowned. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “That it’s strange or bad luck or you’re surprised it happened again.”
“I mean, yeah. All of those things.”
Kayla leaned in and whispered, “Where were you last night, Mac?”
I stared in shock before everyone else erupted in laughter.
“I can’t believe you guys,” I hissed.
Larry grinned, unrepentant. “We’re just giving you shit.”
“We know you didn’t have anything to do with it,” Bonnie added.
“But that mug shot of you in the town Facebook group was pretty hilarious.” Kayla laughed .
My sister and cousin both joined in, chuckling.
I glared. Ugh, if my own friends and family were bringing this up, I could only imagine what Brady would do with the possibility. Did he actually think I was capable of trespassing on his family’s property?
“Well, I was pretty proud of that one. Thank you, ladies,” Brady said from out of nowhere.
I jolted in surprise and banged my knee on the underside of the table, cursing.
How could someone so damn tall sneak up on people?
“Are you coming over to get Mac’s alibi, Brady?” Kayla teased, winking my way.
I scowled.
“Couldn’t hurt,” he replied with a grin.
“She was with me,” both Larry and Bonnie said at the same time.
Brady’s blue eyes sparkled as he looked between all of us. I was two seconds away from dropping my head in my hands.
“We were together,” Bonnie hurried to add.
“The three of us,” Larry confirmed.
It was then that Danny returned to the table and sat down on the other side of my sister. Without missing a beat, he said, “No, you weren’t. We were at my parents’ house last night.”
Bonnie’s cheeks flushed pink at being called out, but Brady didn’t seem upset. He was still watching me calmly.
“Is that right?” he said, shifting to put his hand in the pocket of his vest. “So where were you last night, Mac Mac?”
“Busy,” I replied evenly. Truthfully, I’d been bored at home, obsessing over his dumb ass. But no one needed to know that.
Our gazes held, and I could see that he was entertained.
“Didn’t you have that date last night?” Larry called, breaking our weird staring contest .
All that easy amusement vanished. Brady’s mouth tightened, and he glanced away.
I shot Larry a what-the-hell-are-you-doing look, but her bug-eyed response gave off “I’m helping!” vibes.
Sighing, I turned back to Brady. “I was at home last night, if you must know. Alone. So I don’t have an alibi. Add that to your investigation.”
“I wasn’t—” he started, but Larry cut in, “Y’all should have a stakeout. Maybe the perp will come back and try again since their attempt was thwarted.”
The perp? I mouthed. “Are you serious right now?”
“That’s a good idea,” Kayla agreed.
“And if Mac helps, it would prove once and for all that she didn’t have anything to do with it,” Bonnie stated determinedly.
“Y’all,” I tried.
“That’s not a bad plan,” Brady said, nodding. “What do you say, Mac Attack? You up for a stakeout?”
My laughter was a touch unhinged. “No way. I do not need to play cops and robbers to prove my innocence. Come on, you guys. This is ridiculous. Of course I didn’t have anything to do with this.” I felt like I was the only sane person at this table—in this whole damn town.
“Well, you didn’t have an alibi, sweetie,” my sister said apologetically, rubbing a supportive hand on my back.
“And who knows?” Larry said enthusiastically. “Maybe y’all will catch the culprit.”
I blinked several times, so baffled by this turn of events.
“How about this?” Brady said genially. “If my team wins trivia tonight, you’ll do the stakeout. And if y’all take home first place, then I won’t bother you about it again.”
“A bet?” I asked, incredulously. “That’s seriously how you want to handle this?”
I couldn’t help but feel manipulated. Brady knew how competitive I was. But when it came right down to it, if I was involved, he was just as obsessed with winning.
Of course I was reluctant to spend more alone time with him. This attraction thing was weird and inconvenient and messy and?—
“Come on,” Larry encouraged. “We’ve got this.”
My attention snapped to Brady, where he stood, gloating and arrogant with his ridiculously messy hair. His blue eyes held a challenge I was physically incapable of backing down from. My gaze narrowed, and his narrowed right back.
“What’s wrong, Macklemore? Are you scared you’ll lose?”
This whole thing was absurd, borderline preposterous. But at least the interaction was something I was used to. We were back to goading and glaring, pushing each other’s buttons. That off-balance feeling I’d been wrestling with all week hadn’t gone anywhere. I still couldn’t look at Brady without thinking of lips and warmth and orange Tic Tacs. But this, at least, was familiar territory. We’d been trying to get the upper hand with one another for a long time.
And the illusion of power could make you do stupid, stupid things.
“Fine. I accept your terms,” I taunted. “May the better team win.”
I blamed Larry for flubbing the NBA question in the final round.
We’d finished just two points shy of Brady’s team. And when they were announced as the winners, he’d strutted to the front and snagged the microphone, thanking a long list of people—me included—before accepting the winners’ gift certificates to the Hogs Wild food truck.
I never should have agreed to the stupid bet. Now, I couldn’t back out without looking like a sore loser.
So, the following night, I drove across the street to Judd’s Family Orchard while the bitter sting of defeat rode shotgun. There was also a tiny bit of nervousness as I fretted over being alone with Brady once more.
He was waiting on me when I climbed out of my Jeep. Judd’s was closed to the public until later in the week, and I wasn’t on the schedule for the next day, so I could sleep off this ridiculous overnight stakeout.
The chances of “the perp” coming back on a random Tuesday night were next to zero. I anticipated being very bored and irritated. I hoped there would, at the very least, be snacks.
I eyed Brady suspiciously as I approached. He looked absurd in head-to-toe camouflage, but his blue eyes sparkled with mirth. I felt a tug in the center of my chest. One that made me want to be close to him and simultaneously run the other direction as fast as my feet could carry me. It was confusing and disorienting. But a bigger part of me was curious enough to go through with this plan. And like hell I’d back down from a challenge.
Was I still attracted to this bozo? Yes.
Did I still want to kiss him? Also, yes.
And the most infuriating part of all: I didn’t know what that meant.
I felt like I was once again on the bow of a ship, getting tossed around by the waves, completely off-balance and out of my depth. And there stood Brady, calm and amused, looking as steady as an oak tree.
“You know camo doesn’t actually make you invisible,” I quipped as I came to stand before him.
He had a green-and-brown-patterned toboggan on his head, covering most of his hair. Camo pants and a camo jacket encased his tall body, and dark brown work boots completed the look.
“At least I’m prepared to be covert,” he replied, unbothered. “You can probably see those fire-engine-red lips in the dark.”
I scowled. “There is nothing wrong with my lipstick.”
“I didn’t say there was.” His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before he cleared his throat. “It looks good. It’s just not very subtle, and we’re supposed to be undercover.”
My mind took a little journey—one that was unwelcome and horrifying—thinking of ways Brady could smudge my lipstick right off .
Thankfully, he interrupted my dirty, dirty mind and said, “Come on,” before leading me out of the parking lot. We walked back up the gravel drive to the highway and quickly locked the chain across the path.
Then we made our way into the Apple House.
I noted the night was quiet except for a faint buzzing, like a fan blowing somewhere.
The whitewashed wooden Apple House was mostly an open-air building, wide and exposed to the elements on three sides with tables, pre-packaged produce for sale, a long counter for employees, and a closed office door beyond. I knew that Candace, Brady’s younger sister, had been using the office since returning to town. She’d gone to school for marketing and sales and had come back home to help out here at Judd’s. We got along well, and she and my sister, Bonnie, had been hanging out quite a bit.
It was dim beneath the covered area without the lights on, but I could make out the back of the Apple House where they kept the equipment for pressing. We had a pretty similar setup over at Grandpappy’s. But when I peered beyond the tank and machinery and conveyors to the outside, I stopped in my tracks. The floodlights illuminated the space behind the Apple House nicely. It looked like part of the area had been sectioned off for new plantings, but positioned around them were three wacky waving inflatable tube men. In red, orange, and turquoise, the three arm-flailing vinyl figures were the source of the low hum. Air filled their cylindrical bodies as they waved and flopped and snapped to and fro.
“What is that about?” I asked, pointing in the distance.
“Oh,” Brady replied from my side. “That’s Brad, Chad, and Jeff. Candy’s idea. We started some raspberries and blackberries back there. They don’t have any fruit yet, but the deer love to eat the leaves. The inflatables scare them off. Plus, the kids love it.”
I smiled to myself as I watched the colorful men wobble and sway. “That’s funny.”
“Yeah, Candy is full of ideas. You want something to drink?”
“Diet Coke, if you have it. ”
“Sure.” Brady slipped behind the counter and into Candace’s office. The overhead light briefly illuminated the space, and I could see the cash register and work area behind the counter a little better.
Brady emerged with a plastic shopping bag from Winn-Dixie in one hand and a bottle of Diet Coke in the other.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, rubbing my hands together. It was just after nine o’clock, and the late-October air was chilly and getting colder by the minute. “Are we just watching security monitors in the office or hanging out in our cars or what?”
My stomach did a weird little flip when I thought of conducting this farce of a stakeout from the front seat of Brady’s truck. I pushed aside memories of a warm cab and even warmer hands.
“Nah,” Brady replied easily, drawing my attention—thank God. “I’ve got us all set up.”
“Outside?” I whined.
“Yes, outside. How else are we supposed to keep watch?”
“I don’t know. This whole thing is a waste of time.”
“We don’t have a bank of security monitors,” he explained. “The cameras and monitoring app connect to my phone.” He gave me a challenging, superior look. “But if you really want to watch from the parking lot, my truck is right over there. After you.”
I glared. I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me, and I hated how predictable I was. I also hated that a little part of me—the horny, confused part—wanted to climb back inside with him and see what happened.
Brady grinned knowingly. “Let’s go, Macintosh.”
With my Diet Coke held hostage, he made his way down the front stairs of the Apple House. I sighed and followed.
When I reached the bottom step, my breath puffed visibly in the crisp autumn air. “I’m too Southern for this kind of cold. The sweet tea will freeze in my veins.”
Chuckling, Brady spun back to me. He thrust the plastic soda bottle my direction and used his free hands to pull off his camo winter hat. His light brown hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and for a moment, I had no idea what he was doing. Possibly attempting to smother me in order to stop my complaining.
But then he leaned forward and popped the toboggan on my head, drawing the warm fabric down over my cold ears.
“You lose eighty percent of your body heat through your head and feet,” he said as he straightened the hat into place.
I forced a hard swallow and watched him. “Is that true?” My voice was embarrassing—rough and hushed at the same time. Brady was being sweet with me, and I didn’t know how to act. But I liked the feeling of him fussing over me. And I didn’t mind wearing something of his even if it smelled like ... I pulled in an unsteady breath and registered that now-familiar scent of sun and sand and salt water, the gesture warming me in more ways than one.
Brady’s smile widened. “Sure. I saw it on the internet.”
I rolled my eyes, but I was grinning, too.
“Come on,” he said. “I promise you won’t freeze.”
And true to his word, I didn’t, because Brady had us set up on the temporary pumpkin patch. Most of the squash had been sold, only a few stragglers remained this close to Halloween. But the hay bales had been carefully arranged to form a wall that faced the entrance road. A few sections had been removed as covert peepholes for what I imagined Brady meant by “keep watch.” There were bales arranged on the back side for seating, covered by thick blankets. And positioned behind everything was an outdoor heater. It looked like one of the ones they’d used for the pumpkin-painting event.
I stared in surprise as Brady got settled on one of the covered hay bales.
“This will be the best stakeout you’ve ever been on,” he bragged.
As I made my way over to sit next to him, I thought he might just be right.
Then I inwardly rolled my eyes at myself because this was the only stakeout I’d ever been on or would ever be on, in all likelihood.
Brady started unloading items from his grocery sack. He pulled out a small container of Tic Tacs, and I fought valiantly against my blush. Then he tossed me a plastic-wrapped bag of candy .
I caught the Twizzlers in my lap.
“For old times’ sake,” he said with a wink.
I bit my lip to keep from grinning back, and his smile widened.
“I saw that,” he teased. “I also have some cards in here, but I figure we’ll be alright with our phones for a while. There’s a mobile charger, too. Gotta stay charged in case we need to call the sheriff’s office.”
“You really think we’re going to find someone out here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” he replied.
I opened the bag of Twizzlers and passed him one. “And you really think I had something to do with it?”
It was a fair question, one I’d let bother me beyond surface annoyance. Brady and I went too far sometimes. The Elmer’s Glue Incident of 2009 came to mind. But the fact that he’d seemed to truly believe I was capable of trespassing and causing damage to his family’s property had been a shock to the system. So my initial reaction to his accusation had been anger and disbelief.
Brady sighed and stared at the licorice rope in his hand. “At first, I thought you probably hated me enough to do something like that.”
“I don’t hate you,” spilled out before I’d given it permission.
He met my gaze and raised one dark brow like he didn’t believe me.
“I don’t,” I repeated. “You just—you’re so—I don’t know how to describe it. But hate is reserved for serial killers and billionaire CEOs. People who don’t deserve your time or attention because they don’t know how to care about anything besides themselves.”
Brady’s attention had drifted back down to his hands and the candy he held, so it was easier to admit the next part, especially in the dark with only the moon and stars overhead. “You’re a good person, Brady. You drive me fucking crazy half the time, but you’d never intentionally or knowingly hurt me.” Except for that one time when you were a dumb teenager . “And while I know we’ve given each other hell over the years, I hope you know I wouldn’t vandalize your farm or hurt your family or your livelihood like that. ”
“I do know that,” he admitted quietly. “It was easier to blame you and make it all part of the game we play. Otherwise, it becomes a real threat, something unknown that affects my family—my parents and my sister, who live on the property.” Brady raised his head and finally met my gaze. “I know you think this is dumb and a waste of time, but I do want to know what’s going on. If it’s just a teenager being stupid and making poor life decisions, then I want to figure that out, too. But the sheriff’s office hasn’t made this a priority, and I do want to keep my family safe.”
I nodded. “That makes sense. And the security cameras and the lights were good ideas. It might be enough to deter someone out looking for trouble.”
“I hope so,” Brady agreed. “But I want to be sure.”
Suddenly, the thought of being out here all night in the cold didn’t feel so ridiculous. I’d do anything for my family, too. Guilt and resentment twisted my insides when I thought about my cousin Will and how he assumed I half-assed everything on the farm and just cruised through life. I didn’t know that I could live up to his expectations, but I could probably do more to show him I was a committed part of the Grandpappy’s team. I could take some initiative, be more of a leader, ask for more responsibility, and stop holding myself to the same low standards as the high schoolers who worked for us part-time.
I pushed away those inconvenient thoughts and feelings and said, “So we’ll have a stakeout, and who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and some punk will show up and we can kick their ass.”
Brady laughed. “Always so violent, Mac and Cheese. No, we’ll find out who they are and where they live and haunt them until they get so scared they turn themselves in.”
“Ah, yes.” I nodded sagely. “We’ll Scooby-Doo them onto the path of righteousness.”
“Exactly.”
We shared a grin, and for the first time, it felt like Brady and I were in on something together. Maybe what we’d needed all this time was a common enemy, a shared goal. My eyes drifted down to his lips, and some inner voice whispered that what we actually needed was a flat surface and a box of condoms.
I looked away and shoved a Twizzler in my mouth, chewing deliberately .
Awkward silence descended as we sat side by side. Well, it felt awkward to me, but that was probably because I was so in my own head, sorting through these revelations about Brady, this stakeout, and the awareness I now had for the man beside me.
Luckily, Brady seemed oblivious. He was playing some game on his phone while I powered through six more Twizzlers in an anxiety spiral.
Then, out of nowhere, Brady said, “Are we ever going to talk about the kiss, Mac?”
I choked, bits of licorice lodging themselves in my windpipe as my pulse skyrocketed. Brady patted my back helpfully, and I eventually managed to squawk out, “I thought we agreed it never happened.”
He locked his phone and placed it down on the blanket next to him. “ We didn’t agree on anything. You declared it and then ran away like a scaredy cat.”
I stared at Brady, heart pounding, knowing we’d reached the point of no return. I was standing on the precipice of something that I couldn’t come back from, and as soon as it was out in the open, that would be it.
“I ...” I hesitated. “I don’t know, okay.”
It was one of the very few times Brady had ever looked serious. His brows were lowered pensively, and he watched me like he was trying to solve a riddle. I noticed a key ring in his hand, his thumb fidgeting busily over the smooth leather strap and the metal ring.
When he noticed my attention stray, Brady shoved the key ring in his pocket. Was that why he always had his hand inside the pocket of his puffy vest? So he could distract himself and fidget with his key chain?
Back in school, Brady had always been a hyperactive kid. He used to get in trouble for being out of his seat or not paying attention. As we got older, he had teachers who helped him manage his restless energy better, to channel it into learning. As a child, he’d played every sport before finally settling on soccer in high school.
In second grade, probably around the time he got his ADHD diagnosis, Ms. Ogle sat Brady next to me in an effort to keep him on task. He’d been disruptive in her class, attention seeking. I could recall her berating him and calling him lazy in front of everyone. Something about it rankled. Even back then, when we were chasing each other at recess and daring each other to eat worms on the playground.
The teacher’s shitty plan backfired since Brady and I fought so much. Our bickering led to her moving Brady again. This time, Jase Wilcox, a quiet kid who hardly ever spoke in class, achieved what I couldn’t manage. He kept Brady in his seat and on task, helping him with his work and drawing pictures of anything and everything Brady asked for.
In the end, even though Mrs. Ogle obviously had no idea how to accommodate a kid with ADHD, she’d managed to do something right by sitting them next to one another. She’d solidified Brady and Jase’s friendship, one they’d kept and nurtured to this day.
Brady was fun loving, charming, and well-liked—always had been. No one picked on him or teased him for his ADHD, at least not that I remembered. If anything, he’d been the lovable class clown, generally charming his teachers and volunteering for everything under the sun. His ADHD had just been a part of who he was, not something that defined him. Plus, he’d never been shy about his diagnosis. I remembered a time in sixth grade when he talked openly at the lunch table about the medicine he took.
To me, there were so many other pieces that made up Brady Judd.
The image of him fiddling with the key ring brought back the memory of us together in the shed. When I’d been snuggled up to his side keeping warm, he’d twirled my hair around his finger over and over. I’d felt the gentle tug and motion against my back for a long time that night. He hadn’t even seemed aware he was doing it, and I hadn’t stopped him ... for reasons.
I wondered if, as an adult, Brady needed to keep his hands busy to stay focused or if he was currently feeling nervous and off-balance, like me.
Finally, he met my gaze, and something like resolve stole over his features. “Maybe we should do it again. Kiss, I mean.”
My eyes widened.
“For clarification,” he added, turning his body to face me .
“For clarification on what?” I asked, feeling myself lean closer, tugged by an invisible thread woven with curiosity and the warmth he radiated.
“Well,” he murmured, licking his lips, “clarification for you since you’re so freaked out about it.”
My eyes dropped lower, and so did my voice. “Oh, and what about you? You’re not freaking out?”
I watched as his shiny lips tugged up in a rueful smile. “Nah, I already know what I want.”
I didn’t have the appropriate amount of time to freak out about that statement because he was getting closer.
With careful movements, Brady leaned into my space. I had plenty of time to turn my head, hop up, or push him away, but I did none of those things. Instead, I met him halfway, closing the distance between us and searching for the clarification he’d promised. I didn’t know if I’d find answers or more questions when our lips met, but when it happened, it felt like truth rushing through my veins.
Brady’s hand cupped my cheek. His thumb, once again, came to rest on my chin. There was no surprise this time—no hesitation or playing catch-up. Our lips moved in sync, slotting together as I rested my hand on his thigh for balance.
Brady’s hand shifted as he ran his fingers along my jaw before threading into my hair. Our mouths opened, deepening the kiss. Tongues tangled and breaths quickened while I sought balance in the storm. I brought my other hand to his chest, warm and solid. Brady’s fingers covered mine, holding me in place and steadying me.
Suddenly, his lips were gone, leaving me gasping for air as his mouth dragged over my skin. He kissed a hot trail from my jaw to just below my ear before rasping, “I want you, Mac. Just like this.”
My eyes flew open at his words, the ones breathed into my skin like a confession, like an oath.
Chin tilted up, I stared into the clear, cold night, an ocean of stars overhead. I couldn’t think—not with his tongue tracing down my neck as he turned his attention to a sensitive spot there.
Brady Judd wanted me, and, God help me, I wanted him too. Just like this .
Before I knew it, I was pushing against his chest to make room and climbing across his lap. He didn’t miss a beat as my knees straddled his strong thighs. Two hands came to rest on my ass as he continued his ministrations across my collarbone and over the hollow at the base of my throat.
I wound my fingers into his messy brown hair, gripping tight and keeping him close. If I was too rough, he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he let out a tortured sound and a warm breath.
I used the opportunity to bring his mouth to mine. Our kisses were hungry and a little wild now. Each of us eager and restless. A battle raging between us even in this. I wanted to laugh, to smile, to whisper, I fucking knew it , into his ear before biting down on the lobe.
But I didn’t get the chance because Brady kneaded my ass, urging me closer. When I settled flush against his lap, his dick pushed right between my thighs, lined up perfectly with the seam on my jeans, and I stopped thinking altogether. He was so thick and hard, and the prospect of coming felt so good that I didn’t even care how embarrassing it would be to get off while dry humping my nemesis on top of a hay bale.
I moved, grinding and seeking. Just like this .
Brady’s breath shuddered out of him roughly, breaking our kiss and giving reality a moment to intrude. But then he groaned, “ Fuck . Keep doing that. Holy shit, you feel good.”
So we kept going, eyes closed, mouths grazing, bodies straining. I rode his erection and listened to this golden boy breathe out filthy words against my lips. Telling me how hard he was and how amazing I felt, how perfect I was just like this .
My orgasm broke over me like I was under a waterfall. One second, I was standing in a pool of water, wet and wanting, and the next, I was a gasping, drowning wreck getting tossed around beneath the force of it. I should have known nothing about being with Brady would be gentle or coaxing or delicate. The pleasure was as subtle as a battering ram, just like the man himself.
My lips dragged along his cheek on a soft moan. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held on as Brady cursed beneath me. But the sound of his voice was far away, above the water and out of my reach .
Our heavy breaths registered first, and I realized we’d stopped moving. Brady still held me tightly to him, and I was clutching him back just as fiercely. But the reason we’d stopped was because I had—very obviously—had an orgasm, fully clothed and fancy-free. I had one single perfect moment of utter panic before the sounds of tires spinning and gravel spitting interrupted.
Oh shit . The stakeout.
Rising quickly onto my knees, I peered over the hay-bale wall to see a car speeding out of the orchard’s parking lot. Taillights flashed just before my vision did the same. Brady popped up to see what was going on, and the crown of his head connected soundly with my chin.
I winced and drew back, eyes squeezing shut. “Ow.”
“Shit,” Brady muttered, hands gently cupping my cheeks. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes as he continued prodding my chin and jaw. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I brushed his hands away, and he frowned. “Did you see the car?”
Brady turned to look in the direction the vehicle had taken off, and I knew by the way his shoulders fell that he hadn’t seen a thing. He’d been too preoccupied by me.
We’d both been distracted.
And we had no one to blame but ourselves.