Chapter 31
thirty-one
Brex stands in the doorway, arms crossed. The look he’s giving me has “trying to figure this girl out” written all over it.
As I shove my toiletries into my bag, I hold back a laugh. The way Brex’s eyes were on me while I was bantering back and forth with Alan in the kitchen sent a lovely little thrill through me. I knew he was standing there watching us. And that’s exactly why I turned up the charm.
Alan’s harmless—funny, sure. Definitely easy on the eyes—but I’m not attracted to him in that way.
He’s the kind of guy who flirts with every woman he meets, and I’m no exception.
But I’d never go there. Not when my heart is already tangled up with two hot as fuck men who have my head spinning at every turn.
I only did it to mess with Brex. See that flash of jealousy in his eyes, reminding him that I’m not just sitting around waiting for him to make another move or for Logan to make up his mind about what he wants when it comes to me.
“All set?” His words rumble, licking up my spine.
“Yes. Let’s go.” I zip up my bag, and when I go to sling it over my shoulder, Brex arches a brow and takes it from me.
“Best to take it easy with carrying things for a few days, yeah?”
All I give him is a disgruntled huff.
We walk in silence. When we reach his lifted truck, he opens the passenger-side door and tosses my bag into the back seat before holding out his hand to help me step up and inside.
Jogging around to the other side, Brex gets in and turns the key.
The hum of the engine and the sound of country music playing on the radio fills my ears as I keep my attention focused out the window, watching the trees blur past as we head out of town.
“So.” Brex clears his throat. “The Firefighter’s Charity Gala is coming up this weekend. Are you going?”
Surprised by his out of left field question, I whip my head to look at him.
He’s wearing his baseball cap backwards, dark blond hair curling out from underneath. His flannel, worn over a tight white T-shirt, clings to his biceps, and I have to swallow a fresh wave of lust before I manage to eke out a response.
“Um, yes.”
Brex glances over at me, then back at the road. “Do you have a date?”
The question, loaded with obvious meaning, hangs in the air as I take a moment before shaking my head. “No.”
His lips curve into a slow smile.
My heart skips a beat. “What?”
“Be mine.”
I blink. “You want me to be your date?”
“Sure, why not?” The way he says it is so nonchalant, it almost sounds like he’s asking me out for tacos, not accompany him to one of the biggest events for the LFSR.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
Gah! I hate how vulnerable my voice sounds.
“Look.” Brex’s tone softens as he flicks his gaze over to me again. “If anyone says anything, we could say we’re there together as friends.”
He goes quiet, giving me time to let his offer sink in.
I mean, it would be a good excuse to hang out with Brex outside of work. Best in a public setting and all.
“Okay,” I agree, surprising myself. “I’ll go with you.”
His whole face transforms. The grin that splits across his face is so bright, so genuine—eyes crinkling at the corners, dimples carving deep grooves into his cheeks—it takes me a second to return it.
“Really?” He almost sounds surprised, which is ridiculous, given how confident he usually is.
“Really.” I narrow my eyes in his direction. “Just friends.”
“Just friends,” he repeats, nodding slowly with a small smile and a glint in his eye that tells me he has no intention of keeping it ‘just friends.’ “Absolutely. Just two former lovers... I mean, friends. Going to the gala. Together.”
“Brex.”
“What? I’m agreeing with you.” Keeping one hand firmly on the wheel, he raises the other, pressing his first two fingers together. “No funny business. Scout’s honor.”
“Puh-lease, like you were ever a Boy Scout.”
“How do you know? Maybe I was the most dedicated Boy Scout in the history of Boy Scouting.”
I roll my eyes, smile teasing my lips as I turn to look out the window again.
God, being around him makes it so easy to forget everything else.
Like Logan acting like an overbearing, closed-off dick, and how my nightmares about Becca have come back with a vengeance.
Even the pain in my head has subsided to a dull throb.
Sitting here with him in his truck, Shaboozey’s Let It Burn humming in the background as the world rushes past, I feel lighter than I have in days.
Ten minutes later, we pull up in front of my cottage.
Brex kills the engine and turns to me. “I’ll come in, make sure you’re settled.”
“I’m fine, Brex. Really.” Unbuckling my seatbelt, I reach for the door handle. “Pretty sure I can manage walking into my own house.”
A flicker of frustration crosses his face. “At least let me walk you to the door.”
Just the thought of him being back on a porch with me sends a flutter through my belly as I thank my lucky stars it’s not dark outside.
“Fine,” I huff.
Out of the truck before I can blink, he rounds the hood with an easy, confident stride. Just as my feet touch the ground, he’s there, standing in front of me. All six foot five of him.
Popping one eyebrow, he gives me a sideways smirk and leans in close. Brown eyes, warm and molten, lock onto my mouth, and for one dizzying second, I swear he’s about to kiss me.
My breath catches, heart instantly in my throat.
Reaching around me, his forearm brushes against the side of my breast as he goes to grab my bag from the back seat.
Clean soap, cinnamon and smoke hits my nose, chasing my disappointment away as my knees go weak.
For a second, I don’t think he realizes what he’s done. But when he steps back, and his eyes drop to mine, the spark in them says otherwise.
Wait. Did he do that on purpose, or is he just choosing not to act on it?
My guess? It’s both.
Bastard.
“After you, Pretty,” he whisper-growls, waving a gallant hand.
Cheeks burning, gravel crunches under my shoes as I walk to my door, hyper-aware of how close he is as he follows.
Every step I take feels like it’s being cataloged and assessed, heat licking through my core knowing that he’s absolutely checking out my ass.
The afternoon sun casts long shadows through the pines, dappling the ground with patches of gold. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves overhead, carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers.
When we reach the door, Brex hands me my bag, fingers brushing mine.
My core pulses and I shiver.
“You still have my number?” His voice is soft and slightly raspy, like he’s doing everything he can to keep from pouncing, shattering every last one of my defenses.
I nod, clutching the strap. “Yeah.”
“Text me.”
“Right now?” I blink at him.
“Yup.” Now his cocky grin is back, dimples on full display.
I stare at him for a beat, trying to figure out what game he’s playing. But the look in his eyes is so earnest, so open, that I find myself reaching into my bag and pulling out my phone.
Brex leans against the wall next to my front door, arms crossed, watching me with an infuriatingly patient look on his face.
Scrolling through my contacts my thumb hovers as I think about what I want to send.
When the idea hits, it makes me chuckle under my breath.
Typing a few keywords, I find what I’m looking for and hit SEND.
His phone chimes in his pocket, and he pulls it out.
Glancing down at the GIF I sent—a cartoon tree falling in slow motion through a forest, complete with a tiny squirrel clinging to a branch for dear life—he lets out a bark of laughter that makes my heart soar.
“Really?” He shakes his head, still grinning as he glances up at me.
“What?” I tease incredulously, tucking my phone back into my bag. “Too soon?”
“Never.” He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us in one quick stride.
Next thing I know, he’s in my bubble, hand cupping the back of my neck and he’s kissing me. His lips, warm and demanding, taste like coffee and the promise of sex.
Hands flying to his chest for purchase, I curl my fingers into his flannel and the soft fabric of his T-shirt underneath, returning his kiss with everything I’ve got. Heat radiates through his clothes, scorching up my arms and into my chest, making me dizzy with need.
But almost as quickly as it started, it’s over. He pulls back, eyes dark and hungry, thumb pressing into my bottom lip.
“You keep surprising me, Pretty. Not only are you smart, brave, and sexy, but you’re funny too.”
My heart flip-flops, and my snide comeback gets stuck in my throat when he brushes his nose over mine.
“Saturday. Seven o’clock. I’ll pick you up.”
All I can do is nod.
Voice gruff, he asks, “What are you wearing?”
Tilting my head, I find my wits and my nerve, giving him a small smile and shrug. “A dress.”
“Ha. Ha. Brat. What color?”
I haven’t bought the dress yet. Sasha is going to take me shopping in a couple of days. However, I do happen to know what color I plan on wearing.
“Red.”
“Damn, Pretty. You’re gonna make it impossible for me to keep my hands to myself, aren’t you?”
The thought of bringing this man to his knees sends a sharp thrill through my body. “You said just friends.”
Here comes that signature smirk again. “Very friendly friends.”
Rolling my eyes, I push my key into the lock. “You’re ridiculous.”
“So everyone tells me.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he takes a step back. “Get some rest. Promise you’ll text me if you need anything.”
I give him a withering look.
“Rey.”
The sound of my nickname falling from his lips for the first time ignites a tiny spark of joy, bringing a wide smile to my lips.
“Promise.”
All he gives me in response is a quick wink and a nod before turning on his heel and heading back to his truck.