Chapter 5
Melody
It’s like I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole. What the hell is going on? How am I suddenly sitting in Brody’s truck? And did he just kiss me?
I never should have come to this book club. I knew from the moment Arianna mentioned it that it was a horrible idea. I was certain that if I agreed to do anything with the Wilde wives, I would end up in a situation like this.
Fate? Brody acts like my car was destined not to start so he would have to drive me home. The idea makes me shiver. What if he’s right?
He starts driving. When he reaches over and takes my hand, I tug free from his hold and tuck my hands under my thighs. I’m not ready for him to touch me. It’s unnerving.
He just grins.
As soon as he pulls out of town, I jerk my gaze to him. “You know where I live?”
“Yes, little pixie. I have your address. It’s not a secret. This town isn’t big enough for someone to hide in.”
He’s right, but still… I narrow my gaze at him, even though he’s not looking at me. I suspect he sees everything, even if it’s out of the side of his head. “Have you been stalking me?”
Glancing at me, he frowns. “No, baby. I’ve never been to your house. I just put your address in my phone. I swear.”
I stare at him. Part of me hopes he’s telling the truth. If he’s lying to me, I’ll never trust him. But another part of me wishes he’s been driving by my cottage because that would explain why I sometimes hear a car nearby when I should not.
I’m paranoid. I know it. I’ve earned the right to be paranoid. Even though no one in town knows my pen name, and I’m super careful to keep my professional life completely separate from my personal life, a tech-savvy person could probably find me.
I only live five minutes outside of the town limits, so Brody pulls up outside my cottage quickly.
He immediately turns to me, his eyes narrowed, one hand on the steering wheel, the opposite elbow on the console.
“I don’t like how tense you got when you asked me if I’ve been driving by. Is someone fucking stalking you?”
I shake my head. “No. No. I just get spooked sometimes. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, baby. That’s serious.”
“It’s not. I promise. I make shit up in my head all the time.
It’s my job. I write fiction. Making stuff up is my middle name.
” I grab the door handle and open it. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll call a tow truck first thing Monday morning.
” I turn to hop down, intending to race for my cottage.
I need distance between me and this intense man who’s making my heart race too fast.
Brody grabs my wrist. “Wait for me to help you. Stay put,” he orders.
I sigh as he climbs out of his side of the truck and rounds to my door. I’m so stupidly flustered that I still have my seatbelt on. If I had tried to climb out, I would have made a fool of myself.
Brody reaches across me to unfasten my belt before grabbing me around the waist and lifting me out of the truck.
I’m panting as I slide down his body until my feet are on the ground. And I quickly smooth my skirt. I’m sure it rose up far too high when he lifted me, but hopefully he didn’t get a glimpse of my panties. Why did I wear a damn dress today?
I never dress up fancy like this. I have no reason to. Most days, I don’t even leave my home. I have a routine. It doesn’t include looking nice for anyone because I don’t see people.
When he doesn’t release my hips fast enough, I wiggle free of him. “Thanks again.” I rush around him and hurry toward my front door.
“Fuck,” I mutter, opening my small purse to pull out my keys. I twirl around to find him strolling my direction, holding the keys, smirking.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
He chuckles as he reaches me. With my keys dangling from his fingers, he lifts my chin.
“Let me tell you a few things. One, I would never in my life drop a woman off at her house without getting out of my car. Not my woman, not any woman. Two, I also wouldn’t let her enter a building without making sure it was safe. ”
I gasp. “This is my house? Why wouldn’t it be safe?”
He lifts a brow. He’s standing far too close to me. Touching me. I can’t catch my breath. He smells so good. Like hard work, sunshine, and soap. Is that a thing? It’s distracting.
“You’re the one who implied someone is stalking you, Melody. But even if you hadn’t, I would still walk inside and make sure no one was lurking. That’s just common sense. Gentlemanly.”
I sigh. “And then you’ll leave?”
He laughs. “Not a chance.” He unlocks my front door. As soon as he opens it, my alarm system starts beeping, giving me time to disarm it. He steps inside and glances around before facing the panel and nodding.
I roll my eyes as I join him and type in my code. The beeping stops. When I turn around, he’s staring at me, arms crossed, feet planted wide. “How many people in Wilde have security systems?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Who installed it?”
I inhale deeply. “Brody…”
“I’m just asking. Is there an alarm company in town?”
“No,” I admit.
“So, someone came from another town to put a state-of-the-art alarm system in your rental cottage.” He isn’t asking. He’s figured it all out.
I throw up my hands. “I’m a single woman, living alone, without close neighbors. It gives me peace of mind.”
“That’s all well and good. I’m proud of you and glad you have the common sense to recognize all those facts and have taken measures to ensure you’re safe. What I don’t like is the comment you made about a stalker. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
My shoulders drop as I blow out a breath. “No, Brody. I’m just careful and paranoid. Are you happy?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m concerned.”
“Well, you don’t need to be. I’m fine.” I turn toward the open door and gesture with a dismissive wave for him to leave. “Thanks again. I appreciate the ride.”
Brody reaches for the edge of the door over the top of my head and shuts it.
“You’re welcome. And I’ll call a tow truck and have your car moved to Winston’s mechanic shop.
Is that okay? I know there’s some bad blood with his idiotic son taking Claire hostage, but my cousins assure me Winston is a standup guy who isn’t putting up with any nonsense from his son. ”
“It’s fine, but you don’t have to…” Why am I arguing with this man? He’s not going to budge on this or anything else.
He takes my hand in his and strokes my knuckles. “Give me a tour.”
“A tour?”
“Of your cottage, baby.” The way he keeps calling me baby sounds so intimate.
Like we’ve been together for years instead of having had our second conversation half an hour ago.
It’s possessive, and when he says that word, I shiver every time.
Like he thinks I’m the most important person in his world.
I’m worried that might be the case. I’d also be concerned if it weren’t because I’m a hot mess right now.
“There’s not much to see. There’s this living room, the kitchen, and two bedrooms. One is my office.”
“Where you create all the magic.”
“Yes. And don’t ask me for more information.
That’s all you get. That’s all anyone gets.
I’m very private when it comes to my writing.
I don’t share my pen name. I don’t even share my subgenres.
I write romance. That’s all you’ll ever get from me.
” It seems important to lay this out now.
It wouldn’t matter if I married this man and spent my life with him.
He doesn’t need to know my pen name or any other aspect of my work.
That’s half the reason I never let anyone get close to me. Hard line.
Brody strolls around my small cottage, ignoring my pronouncement. He doesn’t let go of my hand. “Did you decorate all this yourself?”
“No. It was furnished. I fell in love with it the moment I stepped inside, though. I’ve only added a few things of my own.”
He nods slowly, continuing to peruse. “But it’s you, right?”
I shrug. “I guess. It’s like living in a fairyland. Surrounded by all this dainty stuff. It takes me back in time. Or maybe it looks like an old woman lives here. I don’t know. I like it. The second I saw it, I was sold on the place.”
He pauses and lifts my hand, rubbing my knuckles against his soft, short-trimmed beard. “Have dinner with me.”
I search his face. This thing between us. I can fight it, but I will lose. It’s inevitable. “Okay.”
He smiles, and it lights up the room. Fuck, he’s sexy. “That was easier than I expected.”
I roll my eyes. “You didn’t exactly pose it as a question. Would you have let me say no?”
He shakes his head, laughing. I love that sound. I want to press myself against him and feel it vibrate throughout my body. Damn, he’s sexy. Every inch of him. I could stare at him for hours.
He brings my knuckles to his lips and kisses them. “Have breakfast with me, too.”
I chuckle. “Now you’re pushing it.”
“Am I?”
No. He’s not. But I will hold my ground on that issue. “I’m not sleeping with you, Brody.”
“Oh, you’ll sleep with me, little pixie, but we’re not going to have sex, if that’s what you mean.”
I narrow my gaze, confused.
He continues to kiss my knuckles. “Let’s start with dinner, sleeping, and breakfast. While we’re doing those things, you can tell me everything I need to know about you so I’ll be able to order your favorite flowers and candy for the rest of our lives.”
My breath hitches. Sure, on some level, I comprehend this is happening, but saying it out loud is madness. He can’t really be contemplating a relationship with me. We just met.
He steps closer, slides a hand up my back, and holds me against him. My every inhale draws in the intoxicating scent of him. It’s exactly how I write it, and it’s the reason I don’t date. Because things like this don’t happen in real life, and I’m not willing to settle for less.
I’m way too engrossed in the world of romance to step out of my office at the end of the day and lead an ordinary life. It would be a constant disappointment.