Chapter 11
ELEVEN
SLADE
Irealized this was only the third time I’d seen Britton. I opened the door. She was standing on the front stoop wearing a blue sundress, sandals and that smile that I’d been thinking about nonstop since the first time I saw it.
“Holy shit, Tink, warn a guy before you show up at his front door looking like that.”
She looked down at her dress. “Like what?”
“Like this.” I waved my hand in front of her like she had a habit of doing to me. “Come inside and I’ll grab my duffle bag.”
“Do you live here alone?” she asked.
“No. My brother, Hunter, and his wife, Amy, live here too. I’m saving to get my own place.
Sort of puts a crimp in the whole newlywed thing with me always hanging around.
” I walked down the hallway and grabbed my duffle.
Britton was standing in the center of the room when I returned.
Her cropped, shiny dark hair was combed off her picture perfect face.
Her big brown eyes surveyed the faded and slightly dusty furniture.
She walked over to the family pictures on the wall above the couch.
We’d never moved them. They were as much a part of the wall as the cracks in the plaster.
I looked at them about as often as the cracks too.
My mom had felt unusually sentimental one day and she’d decided to frame the few pictures we had of our childhood.
Dad yelled at her for putting nail holes in the wall, but she never took them down.
It had been one of her rare moments of standing up to my dad.
We never talked about the pictures, but I was sure that was why we never took them down.
Britton wiped away some of the dust with her finger and leaned closer, giving me an extremely nice view of her silky legs. “This must be you and your brothers.” She leaned even closer. “Oh my gosh, you were all so adorable.”
“Adorable. Now that is a word I’ve never heard used to describe the Stone brothers. Especially not in this town.”
She turned back to me. “When was this one taken?”
I walked over and glanced at it as if I’d never seen it before.
But I knew exactly when and why it had been taken.
There were so few memorable occasions and pictures to remember that I’d never forgotten any of them.
“My brother, Hunter, the giant with the goofy grin was ten in that picture. I was nine, and Colt, the pretty guy here with the dark hair and mischievous smile, was seven. Hunter won that bike in a raffle. He returned a bunch of empty bottles for cash and used the refund money to buy a raffle ticket at the local hardware store. He bought the winning ticket. It was pretty cool. Of course Colt and I could only look at it and touch it, occasionally, but we were all stoked about him winning it. Except my dad. Nothing ever made him smile.”
She stared at me with those chocolate brown eyes that could look right through me. “That must have been awful. Where are your parents now?”
“Mom died when we were still in school, and Dad died when Hunter was eighteen. Bad heart, bad liver, bad aura.”
“Bad aura?”
“Yeah, it’s a theory of mine. You know how they say people walk around with an aura that sort of reflects their character? I figured my dad’s aura was so black and bitter, it finally got tired of having to float around him and just sort of swallowed him up.”
Again, her dark eyes gazed up at me.
“Shit, Tink, I’d swear you are reading my mind when you look at me like that.”
She hopped on her tiptoes, pressed her palm against my face and kissed me lightly on the mouth. “I don’t need to read it. You just told me a lot.”
I’d revealed more of myself to her in a few short minutes than I ever had to any other girl. I wasn’t sure why except I knew she’d listen. And she had . . . with that face that really did look as if it belonged in a magical story. “What about you, Tink? Are your parents nearby?”
“Iowa, which is close enough, thank you. But really, I do love them. They worry that I’m too wild and reckless and well—impulsive.
They’re right for the most part. Anyhow, my sister’s death has really aged them.
I go to see them on holidays, but being home”—she paused—“it’s hard.
” She walked over and glanced at a few more pictures.
“Let’s change subjects. I don’t want to start our road trip on a downer.
” She looked around the room. “I take it you grew up in this house?”
“Yep. Excuse the general ugliness of the place. We aren’t really big on interior design .
. . or cleaning for that matter. Although it is way better in here now that Amy lives with us.
” I put my duffle on the floor and walked over to her.
My gaze dropped down to her dress. “Just so you know, that dress is making my whole day.”
She held out her arms and spun around once. “You like? I’ve never been to the desert, but I hear that Palm Springs gets really hot. I thought this dress would work.”
“Uh, you do realize that there are hundreds of miles and at least two dark and dingy motels between here and Palm Springs?” I ran my finger under the thin strap of the dress.
“And I’m pretty sure this dress will have to come off more than once during that time.
In fact, I’ve got to get this over with right now so I don’t keep thinking about it while I’m driving.
” I looked at her. “I do get to drive, right?”
She pointed a long finger at me. “Aha, now I see the whole reason behind this road trip. You just want to drive my car.”
“I admit, the car played a part.” I curled my arm around her waist and pulled her against me.
“But this was my real motive, and it’s purely selfish.
” I lowered my mouth over hers and lush, plump lips met mine.
I kissed her long and hard enough that her body nearly melted into mine as she softened in my grasp.
I lifted my mouth, and her long lashes fluttered open.
“Damn, you taste as sweet as you look. I’m glad you walked back into my life, Britton.
I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that first night. ”
“That’s because you are walking around with a stab wound that I caused.”
“True. But that’s not it. There’s just something about you, and it’s not just this.” I went to wave my hand, and she grabbed my wrist.
“All right, let’s make a promise right now to stop the hand waving and referring to each other as this.”
The front door opened and Hunter and Amy walked inside. A huge smile broke out on Amy’s face the second she saw Britton.
She walked right up to her as if they’d known each other for years. “You must be Britton. I love that pixie haircut. It goes so perfectly with your beautiful face.” She lifted her arms. “I’m Amy. I guess I should introduce myself before I give you a big hug.” The hug followed. Britton smiled.
“You’ll have to excuse Street, I mean Amy, she gives the word outgoing a whole new meaning. By the way, this is Hunter. You probably already guessed it since the house sort of tilted on its foundation when he stepped inside.”
“Nice to meet you,” Hunter said. “Where are you two going?”
“California desert. Road trip, baby,” I said.
“Vegas?” Hunter asked with some interest.
“Palm Springs,” I answered.
He raised a brow. “You’re going all that way to watch old guys drive around in golf shorts?”
“Yep. Of course, if you two are going to miss me too much—”
“Fuck no,” Hunter said. “Why are we even holding you up?” He looked at Britton. “Thanks for peeling him off the couch.”
I picked up my bag. “I’ll see you when I get back on Tuesday. Come on, my tantalizing little travel buddy, somewhere out there is a sleazy motel room with our names on it.”
“Sleazy motel rooms and Palm Springs,” Amy repeated. “Actually, that sounds fun.” She kissed my cheek and hugged Britton again. “Drive safe.”