Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
The repairs on the house were finally coming together—the new roof finished, the damaged exterior wall reframed and wrapped, and the replacement sliding door propped nearby, waiting for installation.
Inside, the living and dining rooms were stripped down to the studs, the ruined insulation hauled out, and the last of the warped flooring torn up.
Brian had walked through earlier with his hands in his pockets, nodding as he could already picture the place whole again.
He didn’t rush Tess as she stood in the gutted living room, holding up her paint samples one by one against the exposed studs and imagining what color would make the space feel like home again.
“What do you think of these two?” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “The green one is called Riverdale, and then the cream accent color is Polar Bear.
“I like them. You’ve got good taste.”
The compliment shouldn’t have made her stomach flip. But it did. “Thanks.”
“Any time.”
He held her gaze for a second longer than necessary, something thoughtful passing between them—quiet, steady, and unhurried. Then he nodded once, as if tucking her offer away somewhere he planned to revisit.
They left the unfinished house together, locking up while the late-afternoon sun painted long lines across the porch. Neither of them said much on the walk to their cars, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was... expectant. Like both of them knew the day wasn’t over yet.
They made a quick stop for some takeout, and she followed him back to his condo.
When she stepped inside for the first time, the place was unmistakably him.
Clean lines. Comfortable but not fussy. The kind of tidy that came from habit, not effort.
A deep navy throw hung over the back of the couch, softening the otherwise simple living room.
The walls were plain white, and she could instantly picture the place with a little color—warm grays, maybe a muted blue by the windows. Something lived-in. Something inviting.
A few framed photos sat on the shelves flanking both sides of the TV—not many, but enough to sketch the outlines of his life.
Brian, with his brothers, all three in sand-streaked clothes, squinting against the bright sun.
Another of him and Dan on a fishing boat, each holding up a striped bass and looking proud in a way only family could make them.
And one of a softball team, Rafe, at Brian’s left, both mid-laugh and dust-covered, probably from sliding into base or home plate.
Nothing staged. Nothing polished. Just pieces of a man who didn’t care much about decorating, but cared deeply about the people in his orbit.
She felt something loosen in her chest—something warm and unsettling and full.
“Welcome to my extremely white, extremely dull apartment,” Brian said with amusement as he set the takeout bags on the counter.
But she didn’t think it was dull at all. Not even close.
“I like it,” she said honestly, drifting toward the photos on the other side of the TV. Her fingers hovered just shy of the frames. “It feels like you.”
One picture drew her in—a sun-faded snapshot of Brian in his mid-teens, all long limbs and big grin, standing between two boys who had to be his brothers. A man and woman stood behind them, arms looped around all three boys, smiling like the photographer had said something ridiculous.
His family. The people who made him.
Something in her chest tightened—not painful, just... aware. This was a piece of his world he hadn’t shown her before, even unintentionally.
Brian came up beside her, close enough that his heat seeped into her arm. “That was taken about a year before my folks died.”
“They were a good-looking couple—happy. You were cute too,” she teased, then corrected herself with a smile. “Still are.”
Color touched his cheeks, faint but real. “I was a menace at that age.”
She believed it—but there was also a brightness in the boy’s eyes, the same spark she sometimes caught in the man standing next to her.
And she liked that more than she should.
“Tess...”
The sudden seriousness in his voice had her turning around to face him.
“I don’t want to rush anything,” he said carefully. “But I—” A soft exhale. “Being with you feels... good. Right. And I’m trying really damn hard not to be terrified of that.”
Her breath caught. That was exactly how she’d been feeling lately.
She stepped closer, fingers brushing his. “You’re not the only one who’s scared.”
He searched her face—slowly, gently, like he didn’t want to miss anything she wasn’t saying aloud. “But you’re here.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m here. So are you.”
His hand found her cheek, warm and steady, thumb brushing along her skin like he’d been wanting to do it all day. “Then maybe... we try. For real. Not halfway. Not pulling back the second it feels too good.”
Her chest tightened, her emotions catching her off guard. “Brian...”
“For the first time in my life, I know what I want,” he said quietly. “Who I want—and that’s you. I just don’t want to spook you.”
“You won’t,” she said, surprised by the certainty in her own voice. “I am scared—I can’t deny that—but I don’t want to run from this. From you.”
Her voice softened. “At first, I thought the timing wasn’t right—everything with the house, Andy heading into his senior year, and my chance to go to medical school. But if I wait for the ‘right time,’ I might miss out on the best thing that’s happened to me. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Something in him loosened—shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching. Relief and hope flared in his eyes.
He leaned in, his nose nuzzling hers. “Good. Because I’m falling for you. I don’t know when it started, but I don’t think I could stop now if I tried.”
Her legs shook. It felt like the floor shifted—equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. “You’re not the only one,” she whispered. “I’m falling too.”
His hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair as if pulling her to him was the most natural thing he’d ever done.
“Come here,” he murmured against her lips.
The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. It was slow, deliberate—each second deepening, warming, building. His other hand settled on her waist, his thumb dipping under the hem of her shirt and brushing against her skin. The touch sent tingles of desire through her.
She melted into him, fingers curling into the front of his shirt. The past week of tension and wanting bled out of her at once, leaving nothing but aching want.
He kissed her like he’d been waiting forever—hungry, certain, and nothing tentative about it. Tess didn’t think—couldn’t. She just tugged him closer, her body answering his before her mind could catch up, the need between them sparking hard and immediate.
Breaking the kiss, he breathed heavily, his forehead resting against hers. “To hell with dinner.” His voice was rough enough to send a shiver straight down her spine. “We can eat later.”
A helpless sound escaped her—half laugh, half longing. She didn’t usually lose her mind this fast. But with him? Something inside her sparked to life.
He kissed her again, deeper, and the world narrowed to the heat of his mouth and the grip of his hands clutching her hips. They’d only slept together that one night, but she’d missed this—missed him. It was as if a year had gone by instead of a single week.
“Jeez, Tess...” The words came out rough, almost reverent. He caught her jaw in his hand and kissed her cheek, neck, and ear in frantic little bursts like he couldn’t stay in one place. “Tell me you want this too.”
She did. God, she did.
“Yes.” The answer came out on a breath, raw and certain. “I want you.”
His whole body went still, as if she'd just broken through the last of his restraint. A quiet groan escaped him before his mouth claimed hers again, leaving no doubt how much those words meant to him.
He backed her down the hallway without breaking the kiss. When they reached his bedroom, he paused just long enough to look into her eyes.
“Tess...” His voice caught. “You're beautiful. I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now.”
The honesty in his tone stole what little breath she had left. She slipped her hands beneath his shirt, smiling when his breath caught beneath her fingertips.
“I don't want you to hold back.”
That was all the invitation he needed.
Their kisses deepened as they slowly undressed each other, every lingering touch and quiet smile stripping away another layer of hesitation until nothing remained except the certainty that they belonged in each other's arms.
Brian drew back just enough to rest his forehead against hers before kissing her again.
The bedroom faded around them, replaced by whispered words, gentle embraces, and everything they couldn't put into words.
Much later, Tess rested against him, her head tucked beneath his chin while she listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
She hadn't expected this.
Not simply the closeness, but the way he'd made her feel cherished from beginning to end. Every touch, every kiss, every quiet smile had reminded her that this wasn't about urgency. It was about them.
She could have stayed exactly where she was all night.
Reality nudged its way back into her thoughts.
Andy was home alone. Even though he was practically an adult, she'd promised herself long ago that she would never let her personal life come before being his guardian.
Still...
It was early.
Brian shifted beside her, drawing her a little closer instead of farther away. He brushed a lazy kiss against her shoulder before resting his cheek against her hair.
“You okay?” he murmured.
She smiled as her fingers traced idle patterns along his ribs. “More than okay.”
He huffed a soft laugh against her skin. “Good. I was aiming for more than okay.”
Snuggling closer, she savored the feeling of being in his arms. For a man who lived in chaos half the time, he felt like the safest place she’d ever been.
“You hungry?”
She smiled. “Starving.”
“Good.” His arm tightened briefly around her. “We’ve got take-out sitting in the kitchen getting cold.”
She lifted her head. “Right. I forgot about that.”
A soft laugh brushed her ear. “Hard to focus on food when you’re in my bed.”
“Fair point.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Stay here. I’ll grab it. We can eat in here.”
She nodded, already reaching for the sheet as he rolled away, taking his warmth with him. By the time he stood, she’d pulled the covers up over her suddenly chilled body. He glanced at her, then retrieved a T-shirt from his dresser drawer and tossed it to her. “To keep you warm until I get back.”
Loving his thoughtfulness, she pulled the shirt on before settling back onto the pillows while he slipped on his boxer briefs and walked out the door. She listened to him moving around in the kitchen, cabinets opening, bags rustling.
When he came back, he climbed onto the bed beside her and handed her a fork, the container with her grilled chicken Caesar salad, and a bottle of water. “Dinner is served.”
Ravenous, she took a bite and closed her eyes briefly. “God, this is perfect.”
Beside her, he unwrapped his burger and shoved two french fries in his mouth—apparently just as hungry. They settled side by side beneath the sheet, containers balanced in their laps, shoulders brushing whenever one of them shifted.
He reached over and speared a piece of her chicken without asking.
“Hey,” she protested lightly.
“You weren’t eating it fast enough.”
She rolled her eyes and retaliated by stealing one of his fries. “Fair warning—I will absolutely judge you if you drip ketchup on your sheets.”
A smirk tugged at his mouth. “I live dangerously.”
She glanced at him as he took a bite of his burger, a little sauce at the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, she reached over and wiped it away with her thumb.
The look he gave her afterward wasn’t about food.
Dinner turned into shared bites and quiet laughter, her crisp romaine and tangy dressing mixing with his salty fries and smoky burger, the ordinary act of eating in bed feeling unexpectedly intimate.
Eventually, he set their empty containers on the nightstand, and she curled back against him.
His arm tightened around her waist, and his mouth found her shoulder—he seemed to like kissing her there, and she didn’t mind at all.
“Can you stay a while?” The huskiness in his voice told her exactly what he had in mind, and she was completely on board with it.
Reaching up, she cupped his stubbled jaw. “I wasn't planning on going anywhere.”
His answer was a low, satisfied chuckle as he pulled her closer.