27. Milo
27
MILO
Turns out, the fantasy I didn’t realize I had was Brenna Rawlins pushing me up against my truck and sucking my dick.
Yet here I am, days later, and the image of her down on her knees, my cock in her mouth, looking up at me with those brown eyes, is living rent free in my head and making me hard all over again. And I’m not mad about it. At all.
I inhale deeply, filling my lungs until they hurt, trying to regain some composure. Any composure. Focusing on wiping down the bar at Pour Decisions, I remind myself that as much as I want to whip out my dick and jack off to the incredible memory of Brenna pushing me to my limits, I am not seventeen and I can control myself. The Pints and Purls crowd will be here in a couple of hours, Hux texted that he’s stopping by to talk about hosting Dolly’s rehearsal dinner, and there is plenty of work to be done before they arrive.
The door to the warehouse-like space opens, sunlight streaming in through the small opening, making it hard to see who walks through the door. My heart jumps, my dick twitching in anticipation, hoping that it’s a certain brunette .
“Guess what I have!” Bronwyn Ainsworth says in a singsongy voice, holding up a manilla folder.
My heart sinks, and my dick deflates a little as our marketing director with the honey-colored hair walks across the bar. Don’t get me wrong, I like Bronwyn. A lot. She’s a fantastic addition to Hayes and Hickory Hills. Exactly what we needed as far as someone in charge of our marketing and advertising. Hell, in a weird, twisty way she’s kinda-sorta going to be family, since she’s engaged to Noel, who is the twin of Willa’s fiancé. She’s simply not at all the woman I wanted to see walk into my bar right now.
“You discovered the secret portal that all the socks disappear to in the dryer?”
Bronwyn stops short of the barstools, tilting her head at me, giving me a curious look. “That’s where your mind goes?”
I shrug. “Sure would save me a hell of a lot of time if I had that answer.”
Reaching into the mini fridge, I pull out a Diet Coke and set it down on the bar, watching as she thinks through my response.
“That it would.” She nods a thank you for the drink, cracking the can open and taking a sip. “But, no, I don’t have that magic answer. I do, however, have the first mockup for the Blue Jeans label.”
Just like that, my pulse spikes again, excitement flowing through me. I’d called Bronwyn first thing the morning after our picnic, letting her know I’d finally landed on a name. I don’t know who was more relieved—me or her. Maybe her, actually. She was starting to get really panicky.
“Let’s see.”
She passes me the folder, grinning from ear to ear. “I think it turned out pretty good. We can always make any changes you want, but…I think they got pretty close to what you were describing.”
Flipping open the folder, my heart stops, my breath hitching as my eyes land on the artwork. Sure enough, the art department got it right.
Soft, muted greens and blues blend together, depicting a wide, open meadow at dusk. The sky is dim, but not dark, allowing for the yellow glow of headlights from an old-fashioned red truck to take center stage. Most importantly though, the item that steals the show is the pair of blue jeans draped across the hood of the truck. Tossed there casually, as if done in the heat of the moment, without a thought or care in the world.
Blue jeans in low beams.
“It’s…it’s perfect.”
My heart squeezes, and I’m unable to take my eyes off it, all those feelings from that night rushing back. And not just the ones from where Brenna had me up against the truck. All of them. Because Brenna makes me feel all of the things.
“We can make whatever changes you want,” Bronwyn reminds me.
“Maybe a couple of minor things, but for the most part, they nailed it.”
“Good. I’m glad. I have to admit, I was starting to get really, really worried that you weren’t going to come up with a name and we’d have to push back the whole thing.”
That makes two of us…
I scoff. “I told you I’d come through.”
“I know. And Willa said to trust your method, but…” She raises her hands in surrender. “I have to ask. Blue Jeans in Low Beams? What on earth?”
I smirk, not bothering to hide it. I have no plan to answer her, but I also don’t plan to hide that there is a method to this madness .
The door bursts open, stealing both my and Bronwyn’s attention. We turn, the light once again making it tough to tell who’s coming in, but I know that voice anywhere as soon as she shouts my name.
“Milo!”
I’m instantly hard all over again, lust flooding through me like a gun went off at the horse track. My heart gets in on the action, pounding against my chest as Brenna runs toward us, her beautiful breasts bouncing up and down. How I’m managing to hold it all together right now is seriously a miracle.
Skittering to a stop, she throws her arms around me and squeals. I return her embrace, the excitement contagious, even if I’m not entirely sure why we’re so over the moon. All I know is that if she’s this happy, then I am too. Because it must be good.
“Oh my God, you’re never going to believe the day I’ve had!”
She pulls back but doesn’t let go, her smile so big it might rival Texas. Her eyes are sparkling, and she’s trying to catch her breath, making me want to kiss it out of her even more.
“That good?” I ask.
“Better than good.” She pauses, then turns, startling as she notices Bronwyn. “Oh, hi, Bronwyn. I’m sorry; am I interrupting?”
Pulling away, she unlatches her arms from around my neck, cool air wafting around us. I miss her already, and there’s only six inches between us. I have to fight to keep my disappointment from showing, forcing a smile to my face.
“I was just dropping off the label mockup,” Bronwyn offers, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. I can see it registering on her face, her gaze darting between us.
“Really? Can I see it?” Brenna asks, her excitement still palpable .
“Of course.”
I take her hand, pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her temple as I hand her the folder with the artwork. I hear her gasp, but I don’t look at her, my attention on Bronwyn as she eases toward the exit.
“Blue Jeans in Low Beams,” she mutters, nodding. “I get it.”
“Yeah?”
“I now find tractors sexy, so…yeah…”
She gives me a wink and turns to go. I silently laugh, understanding what she means. Funny what love does to you.
“Milo, this is amazing!” Brenna exclaims, spinning back around, holding up the mockup.
“I know. There are a couple of little things I’ll have them update, but for the most part, that’s the label. I’ll get Bronwyn the changes this afternoon, and she’ll work on getting them into production so we can get it all going and be ready for Rhythm and Brews.”
“That’s so exciting! You must be so relieved that you finally figured out the name. I know that was weighing on you.”
“It was. I am. But, enough about beer. I’m not the one who all but busted down the door because of the day they had. So, spill.”
Brenna lights up again. No, lights up isn’t right. She nearly combusts.
“Oh my God. So…”
Hands flailing wide, she launches into her story about Doc Galindo crashing her goodbye breakfast with Mell at Dolly’s and the bomb he dropped. I won’t lie—I don’t follow all of the details and the rabbit holes she goes down about vaccines and insurance companies and the qualifications and paperwork and what is actually required, but she seems confident that she knows it all. And I trust that she does. I also don’t follow any of what she’s saying about the Medication Therapy thing, but again, her excitement is really all I need to know.
At least until she gets to the part about taking over Hickory Hills Drugs.
“I don’t know how I didn’t know this—I guess maybe because I just wasn’t ever paying enough attention—but Mr. Hovland does indeed own Hickory Hills Drugs. Like the whole store. And he is interested…willing…whatever you want to call it, in having me take over.”
“Define take over.”
My voice is calm and steady. An alarm is going off in the back of my brain, activating protector mode, wanting to make sure she’s not going to be taken advantage of. She’s a smart, capable woman, but she’s also new to these kinds of dealings, and I won’t let someone think they can get away with something because of that.
“Sell me the business.”
Okay then. Didn’t see that coming.
“Seriously?”
I lean back against one of the barstools, crossing my arms. I quickly uncross them, not wanting to give off a vibe that I don’t believe her. Brenna laughs, stepping into me, placing her hands on my chest and kissing me.
“Yeah, seriously. I went to talk to him after Doc told me all this, because it just seemed too good to believe, and it’s legit.”
“And he what…was going to tell you when he handed you the keys?”
I regret my question as soon as I say it. That was not very supportive of me. This whole thing doesn’t make very much sense, but there are better ways to word it. Ones where Brenna isn’t going to think that I don’t believe her. Or in her .
“That was my first thought too,” she tells me, which eases my worry. “Apparently, he’s had this grand plan in the back of his mind since I got into pharmacy school, which is why he’s been pushing for me to come home and work with him. He thought that if I came back and became his right hand and all that, with the idea of then becoming the town pharmacist, he could then spring the whole ‘oh yeah and it’s the entire store’ thing on me too. And since I would have already planted roots here, that I’d capitulate.”
“Rather than just being like ‘hey, how about taking over the business and making it yours’ kind of thing from the get-go?”
“Basically. He thought that would scare me.”
I nod. I can see that. Not sure I agree with his tactics, but his logic isn’t entirely unsound either.
Grabbing hold of Brenna’s hips, I squeeze, loving the feel of them in my hands. “For someone who was worried at the beginning of the summer that she wasn’t going to have any job offers, you have quite the decision. Big Box USA, Well Nest, and ownership of Hickory Hills Drugs. So, whatcha thinkin’, beautiful?”
“I’m thinking…in the words of my dad…it’s absolutely crackerjacks, but I might just buy a drugstore…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
Capturing her lips in mine, I kiss her, softly at first, then deepen it. Slow, steady, and unhurried. Brenna is staying in Hickory Hills.
My insides explode and calm simultaneously, creating a mix of emotion I can’t name. Relief, maybe. Elation. Love. Definitely love. That word is still a secret though. Regardless of what this mix is, I want to share it with her. Want her to know that she makes me feel like no one else can.
“I mean, it’s more than a little crackerjacks, right? I know nothing about the business part of it. And I mean, nothing. I don’t think I took a single business class in all those years I was in college. But…”
She bats her eyelashes, giving me a coy smile. My dick twitches, and I flex my fingers against her hips, already knowing where she’s taking this. Little does she know she doesn’t have to flirt with me to get her way. That said, I’m not enough of a gentleman to stop her.
“But…”
“Two of my most favorite men on this planet do happen to run their own very successful business, so I was thinking maybe they might be willing to help?”
“Bren, you know that Brandt and I will be there for you every step of the way. From the vaccines to the therapy medication thing to whatever else.”
“Medication therapy management,” Brenna laughs, giving me a shove. “Which unless you’re on multiple meds from multiple different doctors and not tracking that properly and letting those doctors know, you don’t need. But we can start with contract review and business loans?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s Hayes lawyer territory; that’s going to require a Gus phone call.”
“But I’m not a Hayes. I?—”
I cut her off with a kiss, not wanting to hear any of her “I’m not a Hayes” nonsense.
“You’re mine. And I’m a Hayes. So Hayes lawyers will help us with this, ’kay?”
“’kay,” she whispers, kissing me again. “Have I told you how much I like being yours? And not just because of the access to the lawyers part. Because of the you part.”
Pure joy radiates through me, threatening to burst out through my skin at her admission. Brenna saying she’s mine is the best thing I’ve heard in a long time. Maybe ever, and it’s something I’m not sure I’ll ever tire of. The confirmation that this is real—for both of us—settles my soul in a way that I didn’t realize I need. A salve to an open wound I was unaware of.
“Keep telling me.” I tug her closer, our bodies flush. Her breath catches, and my cock tightens in my jeans. Fuck, the things she does to me. “And I’ll keep showing you.”
“Showing me how?”
Brenna squeaks as I grab her hips, lifting her and spinning us around. I deposit her on the bar, stepping between her legs to kiss her. We’re at a weird angle to make out, thanks to the height of the bar, but that’s not why I put her up here. I have plans for my girl. Naughty, naughty plans. So I set to work.
Flicking the button on her jeans, I work them open, still kissing her like my life depends on it. She’s returning my efforts, hands holding my head in place as our tongues dance.
“Bren, you have got to start wearing skirts, baby,” I say, catching my breath and tugging her jeans over her hips and taking her panties down with them. I nudge her thighs open enough to expose her glistening pussy, licking my lips as it calls my name. “Preferably without the underwear. Making it also easier for me to do this…”
Lowering my head, I swipe at her clit, not wasting any time. Brenna cries out, hands flying to the back of my head. Her glorious familiar taste fills my mouth, making my dick ache, lust taking over every inch of me. I need more of her. All of her.
Only the next shout I hear isn’t hers. It’s another voice I know almost as well as Brenna’s.
And it’s the last voice I want to hear while my mouth is on her.
“What in the actual fuck?”