Chapter Four
J ane
To hell with Brady Hinckelson! Jane lowered the windows of her Jeep and let the cooler now-January air whip around her.
She cruised down the roadway at a higher than speed limit rate.
Her father had always teased her about having a lead foot, having obtained her first speeding ticket only six weeks after getting her driver’s license. Oh, well!
She couldn’t believe Brady had dismissed her that way. That he had the nerve to not only tell her he didn’t do relationships, which she knew, but that he’d have sex with someone new tomorrow. She felt dirty. Cheap. No one had ever made her feel that way.
She wasn’t celibate by any stretch of the imagination, but she didn’t sleep around. She treated her body like a temple and she didn’t share it with just anyone. Granted, she had sex with men she hadn’t loved but she’d been selective. Very selective. She’d had Brady in her sight for years.
Her crush on Brady had bloomed instantly the moment Rex brought him home from college for Christmas.
His dark hair had been longer then, curling slightly at the ends.
He’d looked completely out of place—rigid in posture, lips pressed in a tight line, like he was holding his breath.
But his deep brown eyes had given him away, tracking every chaotic, heartfelt moment of the Bancroft holiday with quiet curiosity.
And slowly, almost reluctantly, he’d begun to soften.
She’d only been fifteen at the time. Too young to fully understand the weight of what she was feeling—but it had started then, quietly.
And as the years passed and Brady became more and more woven into the fabric of her family, that early fondness deepened into something she could only describe as love.
Not the brotherly kind. Not even close.
Brady had always taken an interest in her—asked about school, her yoga practice, the places she wanted to travel, the guys she dated. He saw her, really saw her, in a way most people didn’t. Especially during those teenage years, when friendships felt surface-level and fleeting.
But Brady? He was different.
Every time he walked through their front door, his presence lit her up. Her skin would tingle. Her heart would race.
The limited traffic on the road at this hour made it easy for her to navigate. The chilly air swirled in the interior of her vehicle making her feel like Elsa at the top of the mountain in Frozen . She hummed a few bars of Let It Go . Maybe she should let her crush on Brady go.
Fuck him !
She’d given him too much time and space in her mind and her heart.
Her Jeep jerked then wobbled. Shit ! She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and guided the vehicle to the shoulder of the road. Flinging the Jeep into “park,” she climbed out to assess the issue. She walked around the front of the vehicle. Damn it. A flat.
She knew how to change a flat tire. Her father and brother both made sure she could do so.
But it was almost 2:00 in the morning. Standing on the side of the road changing a tire by herself felt like an invitation for trouble, especially on a night when so many people would be intoxicated from their New Year’s celebrations.
She could call a towing service. She could call her brother, who was likely passed out in his bed.
She could lock the Jeep up, get an Uber home and deal with the flat later.
She could call Brady. She did know he was still awake and sober.
Ugh! Calling Brady would certainly make her dramatic exit less theatrical.
The cool air raced up the skirt of her dress.
She shivered. She wasn’t properly dressed to be out here or to change her tire.
Opening the passenger door, she grabbed her phone from the center console and pulled up Brady’s contact.
“For fuck’s sake, Jane. Why’d you run out on me like that?” Brady huffed into the phone after only a half of a ring.
“Brady, I have a flat. I’m near East Pine and South Osceola. I pulled over.”
“Jesus Christ. This is why I wanted to follow you home. It’s freezing out and all sorts of crazies are roaming the streets.”
She rolled her eyes. She didn’t need a lecture. He’d shattered her with one comment and then expected her to hang out and wait for him. He was a prick of epic proportions.
“Don’t move. I’ll be there in less than two minutes.”
“I can’t move. My tire is flat.” She sighed.
He huffed. “Stay on the line with me. I think I see you.” He groaned. “Come on, light.”
Was it possible for her eyes to get stuck from rolling them too much? Yes, it was chilly out and she wore a rather skimpy dress. Yes, it was after 2:00 in the morning and she stood on the side of the road alone. But she wasn’t in danger—at least not yet.
The headlights of his silver Mercedes C-Coupe blinded her as he pulled in behind her Jeep.
He exited his vehicle but left it running.
He’d slid into his suit jacket again, looking the posh professional even at this late hour.
No one would be able to tell he’d fucked the hell out of her less than thirty minutes ago. Damn him. Always so put together.
He stood next to her assessing the situation. “Why don’t you go sit in my car while I change this for you?” He nodded in the direction of his Mercedes.
“I know how to change the tire.” His chivalry pissed her off even though she had called him.
“I have no doubt you do.” His gaze roved over her, his chocolate-colored eyes melting with heat. “But you are in a beautiful dress so I will handle it.” He slipped out of his jacket and handed it to her. He rolled up his sleeves. His muscular forearms came into view.
Ugh! Why did he have to be so damn attractive? Even his forearms agitated her heart.
“Just put the jacket in the car. This should only take me a few minutes.” He walked to the back of the Jeep and popped open the hatch.
She moseyed over to his car and slid into the passenger seat without a word. If he wanted to get greasy and wrestle with the flat tire, he could have at it. She cranked the heat, sank back into the seat, and let her eyes drift closed.
What a night.
An emotional rollercoaster didn’t even begin to cover it. The new year, the unexpected turns, and— God —the moments with Brady.
Her body warmed just thinking about the way he’d touched her. The way he’d kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.
Honestly, with those memories still humming under her skin, who needed the damn heater?
The passenger car door clicked and a cool breeze whipped in. Her eyelids snapped open.
“Hey, Princess, I’m done.” Brady leaned into the car. His woody scent overwhelmed her.
That nickname did something to her. She wanted to be his princess. Without thinking, she leaned into him, pressing her lips to his. He groaned but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he weaved his fingers into her hair and pulled her closer. He swiped his tongue between her lips. She returned his vigor.
After a few minutes of making out, he pulled back. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” He heaved breaths.
“I’m not trying to kill you, Brady.” The corners of her mouth lifted into a small smile.
“Aren’t you?” He shook his head and lowered to a squat next to the car. “You seduce me, knowing your brother forbid this situation. You storm out and get yourself a flat tire in the wee hours of the morning, which would also piss off your brother. Then you try to seduce me again.”
She laughed. “If I wanted to seduce you, we’d be doing more than talking.” She swung her legs out of the car. He stood and offered his hand to assist her. She slipped her fingers in his and rose. “And you are too worried about my brother. Maybe you should be kissing him.”
“Jane.” His tone brokered no comment. He took a breath. “I was headed to your place to make sure you arrived home.” He swept a few strands of hair behind her ear.
A bolt of electricity shot up her spine. Despite everything, every one of his touches affected her.
He sighed. “I’m glad you called me.”
“Thank you for changing the tire.” She eased past him. She couldn’t take his rebuff again. “I’ll see you around.”
“Jane,” he called. His voice wavered. That almost made her pause.
“Good night, Brady.” She strutted to her Jeep and slipped into the driver seat.
She didn’t want to hear about how they couldn’t date, they couldn’t be together.
About how he’d be with other women in the blink of an eye.
Maybe she shouldn’t have kissed him again.
But she’d wanted to walk away from him on a high note.
Not angry. Not overly hurt. And on her terms.
Done.