6. David
DAVID
Pink cardigans are a new turn-on for me.
Short sundresses with cowboy boots are not.
They’re not new, I mean. They’re definitely a turn-on for me.
Mia Hansen dressed in anything is, apparently, a turn-on for me. That’s new too. And I’m not happy about it. But it’s undeniable as she steps into the Come Again with three friends on Friday night.
She’s wearing a cream-colored dress and turquoise-colored cowboy boots, with her hair down, her makeup done, and a huge smile.
The dress isn’t tight, but it’s cinched at the waist. It’s got sleeves.
Kind-of. The loose sleeves cover her arms from the elbows down, but her shoulders are bare, like someone cut holes in the tops of the sleeves.
Holes to tease and tempt the men around her with even more skin.
As if all the skin shown off from the hem of the dress down to the tops of her boots wasn’t enough to have every male in the room turning to look.
Her hair is most definitely not pulled back and up into a prim little bun. It’s falling past her shoulder blades in waves, and not wind-blown-frizzy-and-tangled waves like the other night. Tonight, it’s sleek and smooth, and I want to run my fingers through it.
Of course, I wanted to run my fingers through it when it was frizzy and tangled, too, so that’s not really a shock.
I am definitely not the only one in the bar who notices the new arrivals.
I’m not even the only one at my table who notices.
Carver Riley gets up with a grin and crosses the room to kiss his wife.
Kaelyn is with Mia, Sloan Bennett, and Whitney Bennett—cousins, not sisters. They’re obviously out for a Friday night Girls’ Night Out. All of the women are dressed up and look beautiful. Sloan is wearing a short, fitted sundress too. But I can’t keep my eyes from returning to Mia over and over.
Her lips are a dusky pink that looks less like lipstick and more like she was just thoroughly kissed.
Which makes me think about kissing her and seeing how that makes her lips look.
Do they get even darker pink? More plump?
Would her cheeks turn pink like that, too?
Does her neck flush when she’s turned on?
I want to know all of that.
And I definitely can’t stop cataloging every detail of that dress.
The skirt doesn’t hit any lower on her thighs than a pair of shorts would, which leaves a lot of her long, tanned legs bare.
How’s she going to sit in that skirt without flashing anyone?
And come to think of it, I don’t notice any panty lines when she turns and waves at someone sitting near the windows.
Yes, I checked out her ass.
I’m not happy about that either, but it just happened.
I check Sloan and Whitney out, too, just to try to even things up, but my eyes bounce back to Mia like she’s a bright, beautiful flower and I’m a helpless honeybee functioning on instinct only.
I scrub a hand over my face. Jesus, what is wrong with me?
I know what it is and I know I need to ignore it.
But if that sweet-looking, shy-seeming, cardigan-wearing woman is showing up to this bar on a Friday night in a short shirt and no panties…
I shift on my seat. What am I going to do? Storm over there and demand she go home and put some underwear and blue jeans on? Sure.
Or maybe storm over there, throw her over my shoulder, take her out to my pickup, and show her how much I love that dress and her not wearing panties.
Fuck.
A week ago, that would not have ever crossed my mind. I might have noticed that all of the women look gorgeous tonight and might have thought “lucky bastards “about anyone who gets to flirt, dance, or even go home with one of them.
But I wouldn’t have been zeroed in on Mia.
I wouldn’t have checked out her ass.
I wouldn’t have been thinking about her panties.
I wouldn’t have already had three nights of hot as fuck dreams about her.
But no, I had to rescue her, almost eat frozen pizza with her—we didn’t even do that, and I still can’t look at one of my favorite foods without thinking of her—and actually fall into like with her.
Then I had to go to the fucking library.
I shouldn’t have done that. That was the second biggest mistake I made.
The biggest one was reading her fanfiction.
Mia Hansen has a very dirty mind.
And I did not need to know that.
I blame Charlie. He never should have told me about the fanfiction. He could have kept that information to himself. He could have been a normal guy who doesn’t want his asshole little brother to know things like that he writes mystery fanfiction for a contemporary romance series.
But no, Charlie told me all about it. Probably because he’s a damned good writer. I read all of his stuff, too.
I watch Carver greet the women, and all of their smiles. He takes Kaelyn’s hand and starts to pull her toward our table, but they laugh, and Whitney pulls her friend back toward the all-female pack, shaking her head.
Carver shrugs, kisses Kaelyn again, leans in to whisper something in her ear that makes her nod enthusiastically and him laugh, then he comes back to our table as the women move toward one of the high-top tables closer to the stage where the band is setting up.
The Come Again only has live bands on Friday nights, so we usually do our ‘let’s grab a beer’ thing on Wednesdays or Thursdays to avoid the crowds and so we can actually talk and catch up with each other.
But Charlie said Jack needed a night out.
An actual fun night with more people and music and not just talking to his brothers.
Fair enough. I said yes without hesitation. Our grandma is watching Jack’s kids, and I’m happy to help my recently widowed brother have some fun. A few beers, some good food, and some live music sounded like a great time. Harmless, even.
Until now. Now it looks like I’m going to have another night where it takes me forever to fall asleep, and when I do, I’m going to toss and turn with very inappropriate dreams about a woman who is completely off-limits.
This time I’m probably not going to dream about fucking her against a bookcase at her charming little library, though. I’m probably going to fuck her bent over the tailgate of my truck, with her still wearing those fucking boots.
Dammit .
“What’s with you?”
I look up at Jack and realize I cursed out loud. I clear my throat. “Nothing.” I look at Carver. “Made your wife come down here so you could keep an eye on her, huh?”
Carver chuckles, not in the least bit insulted.
Carver and Kaelyn have been a couple since they were about four years old, and there isn’t a soul who knows them who doesn’t know that Carver adores the very air his wife breathes.
Or who doesn’t know that they are very confident in their relationship and often go their separate ways.
They are the least clingy couple I know.
“Why are you so grumpy suddenly?” Jack asks. “You’re not really worried Carver is going to ditch us for the girl gang, are you?”
“I’m not grumpy.”
“You have a problem with one of the girls?” Carver asks with a frown.
Yes, yes, I do Carver. I’m sleep-deprived and having some trouble with a constant semi-erection because of one of those girls. Thanks for asking.
“Of course not,” I say.
I can’t say yes. Kaelyn Spencer, now Riley, is one of the nicest people I know. And hell, Sloan and Whitney are my cousins.
Not technically . Their dads, Ty and Travis, are our dad’s brothers, but our dad, Tucker, adopted us.
And we didn’t grow up like cousins. We don’t have childhood memories with them.
The girls are a lot younger than all of us.
Whit is the oldest of the Bennett grandkids, and she’s seven years younger than Jack, the baby of our family.
We were all in high school when they were just little kids, and we were out of the house before they were old enough to be interesting enough to pay any attention to.
I remember a big group of younger kids running around at big family gatherings or when I came home from college for Christmas, but I couldn’t have even told you which was which.
Now I only know the ones who live and work around here, and I’ve still gotten Sloan and Melody mixed up before.
“Oh, David’s just realizing that our sweet town librarian can look like that ,” Charlie says with a chuckle.
Jack frowns and glances toward the table. “Which one is the librarian?”
“The brunette in the cream-colored dress,” Charlie says.
“Ah.” Jack nods. “Nice.”
I lift a brow. “What?”
“She’s really pretty,” Jack says with a shrug. “You like her?”
“No.”
Charlie and Carver both laugh.
I scowl at them. “What? I don’t.”
“You do, too,” Charlie says. “Mia is very nice. You have zero reason not to like her.”
“Okay, I like her. She’s fine. But I don’t like her.” I sigh. We sound like idiots. “Jesus Christ, you guys. We’re not in eighth grade.”
“You’re right,” Jack says. “I should ask what I really mean. Do you want to date her?”
“No,” I say quickly.
Probably too quickly.
“Do you want to sleep with her?” Jack asks.
“No.”
I definitely say that too quickly.
Carver and Charlie exchange a look.
“I can’t ,” I say instead. Because…yeah, fine. Saying I don’t want to do either of those things is going to be a hard sell with these guys.
“Why?” Jack asks.
My brother has been away from Sapphire Falls for about ten years. He was off at college, getting married, having kids. Losing his wife. He’s had a few other things on his mind than keeping up with the who’s who in Sapphire Falls.
“She’s Scott Hansen’s daughter,” I say simply.
Jack lets that sink in.
My brother has been seemingly moving in slow motion since his wife’s death.
He’s moved in with our mom and dad, which is great because he has help with the kids and doesn’t have to worry about things like bills, shopping, yard work, and keeping up with housework.
It seems like Jack’s having a hard time even doing the basics, like going to work and being present for his kids.