Chapter Six
J ane
Jane rolled onto her back and stretched.
The luxurious feeling of elongating her sore muscles had her mewling like a cat.
She’d let Brady into her house last night and allowed him to take her on just about every flat service they could find, including her bed.
She had to have set a world record for the number of orgasms she achieved and gave.
She reached her hand out to the other side of the bed but the cold, empty sheets told her what she had already known. Her stomach dropped and her chest squeezed.
Of course, he left.
She hadn’t expected him to stay. Even as he tucked her into him, her back to his front.
Even as he whispered sweet words to her about how much he enjoyed being around her, how much he loved her company, how beautiful she was, she knew he wouldn’t be here in the morning.
She’d been quite surprised he stayed as long as he had.
Didn’t mean she hadn’t wished she had been wrong.
He said he wanted one night. She gave it to him, knowing her heart would break after it was over.
She could keep pushing the issue. Pressure him until he relented.
And he would. He’d move heaven and earth for her if she asked even at his own expense.
But that wasn’t how she wanted him. She wanted him to want to be with her. To be her companion. Her partner.
He feared that. Commitment. Honesty. Trust. She couldn’t have a relationship with someone who didn’t give her those things. And she couldn’t periodically sleep with him. It would crush her waking up in the morning to an empty bed.
Throwing the covers off, she eased out of bed and slipped on a t-shirt and pajama pants.
Her quads and hamstrings ached—her back tightened.
A tingling sensation cascaded over her skin.
She was tender everywhere. Even with her flexibility from years of yoga, she hadn’t been prepared for all the positions she’d tried with Brady. Positions she’d never even dreamed of.
She walked out to her kitchen, wincing from the soreness.
The rich aroma of coffee permeated the air.
She hadn’t set the coffee pot timer, so Brady must have made a pot before he’d left.
A plate with several croissants and a small jar of raspberry jelly sat on the island.
A vase of beautiful wildflowers anchored a sheet of paper.
Good morning, Princess. Thank you! Thank you for last night. It was amazing. YOU are amazing. I will treasure it for as long as I am breathing. B.
She lifted the paper from the counter and pressed it to her heart.
Brady could be the sweetest person on the planet.
He paid attention even when no one thought he was.
He knew she loved croissants and raspberry jelly.
He knew her favorite flowers were anything wild—beach sunflowers, black-eyed Susans, or the blanket flowers.
Despite his hard exterior and his broody attitude, he had a softness at his core. At least he did with her. Tears welled in her eyes. If it were up to him, last night would be it between them.
She’d been one of the lucky ones—one of the few he’d let in.
Over the years, he’d confided in her, shared pieces of his past he kept hidden from the world.
Stories of an abusive father and an absentee mother.
He’d once told her about a time his father had beat him to within an inch of his life and he’d spent a night in the hospital and several weeks in foster care.
His stories twisted her heart into knots.
He’d tell her how lucky she was to have parents who loved her, a brother who had her back, a home where she was never truly alone. There was always a weight in his voice when he said it. A quiet kind of longing.
His honesty only pulled her closer. She wanted to be his friend, his confidante, the person he could lean on when everything else felt like too much.
More than anything, she wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.
The saddest part? He didn’t believe he deserved to be loved.
And yet she loved him anyway. Fiercely. Fully. Probably always had.
She pulled a coffee mug from the cupboard and poured a steaming cup.
Ah! The first sip was always the best. Even more so when made by the man she’d been head over heels for since she was fifteen.
Setting her cup down, she snatched a croissant from the plate and tore it apart.
The butter flavor burst on her tongue at first bite.
She twisted off the top of the jelly jar and dipped the pointed edge of the pastry into the jelly.
The tartness of the jelly contrasted perfectly with the light and flaky croissant.
The perfect way to start the New Year, albeit alone.
A knock at the front door startled her. Who the heck would be here this early in the morning on New Year’s Day? Maybe Brady forgot something? She set the pastry back on the plate, folded Brady’s note and stuffed it in her pajama pants pocket.
She peered out the window of her front door. All she could see was the top of his head but she’d recognized that ruffled dirty blonde hair anywhere. Her brother. Rex.
It’s a good thing Brady made an early exit. If Rex had found Brady here in last night’s clothes, the top of his head would pop clean off. She knew her brother was an issue—always had been when it came to her love life. No one was ever good enough. Not even close.
And Brady? He’d made it clear Rex had warned him to stay far, far away from her. Which only made what they’d done last night feel riskier. And somehow, more inevitable.
She inhaled a deep breath and flung the front door open. “Rexy, what are you doing here at this hour?”
“At this hour?” He laughed. “It’s after 11:00. Are you just waking up?” He pushed past her into the house.
She blinked. After 11:00? She hadn’t even glanced at the clock in the kitchen or looked at her phone, too wrapped up in her memories of last night.
She’d assumed it wasn’t past 8:00. She never slept in.
Though she also never performed a sex marathon before either.
Her cheeks heated just thinking about the things they’d done.
“I guess you are just waking up.” Rex grabbed a croissant from the plate and tore into it.
“Hey. Those are mine.” She reached for the pastry in his hand but he yanked it away.
“You won’t eat three croissants.” He shoved the rest in his mouth and chewed.
“You’re such a brat.” She walked over to the coffee pot. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” Rex mumbled through his chewing.
She removed a cup from the cupboard and poured Rex’s coffee. Moving to the island, she slid it across the counter. “Creamer is in the fridge.”
She watched her brother move about. He seemed tired.
“What brings you here? I can’t imagine you rung in the New Year by yourself. I saw you chatting up that blonde last night.”
His cheeks pinkened. “I had an enjoyable evening, but I don’t know. I’m kind of over the bed hopping scene.”
“What? Rex Bancroft is tired of one-night stands and random girls?” She feigned a fainting spell with the back of her hand to her forehead. “I don’t believe it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Knock it off.”
“I’m sorry but it’s been a revolving door, bro.”
“I know. And for a while, it was what I needed after Lay—”
“Don’t say her name in here.” She swatted him. That bitch slept with one of his best friends in the apartment she shared with Rex. It was repulsive. Revolting. And she wanted none of that negative juju in her house by saying that woman’s name.
“Are you having regrets about the blondie from last night?”
He shrugged. “She wants more. Before I left at the wee hours, she mentioned going to dinner this week.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Maybe Rex getting a girlfriend would loosen his rules about Brady.
“I felt nothing. Nothing. No excitement. No—that might be fun.”
“She’s not the one.” She shrugged. “It will happen one day.”
“I don’t know why I come to you with these issues. It’s not like you’ve ever been in a serious relationship.”
“By choice.” Her voice hardened. She’d dated plenty.
The relationships lasted a week or two. One even pushed into a month.
But one look at Brady and any interest she had in another man fluttered away like a butterfly fresh out of its cocoon.
“But you know T or Brady would laugh you out of the brewery if you told them this. That’s why you confide in me.
Don’t you guys have some ‘bro code’ of acting like you have no feelings? ”
“Geez. That’s harsh.” He sipped his coffee. “You know I love you, right?”
She rolled her eyes. She remembered her mother’s threat as a teenager. Was it really possible for her eyes to get stuck like that if she rolled them enough? It hadn’t happened yet.
“Of course you do. I’m your favorite person.” She turned to her brother and gave him her biggest smile.
“So why were you sleeping so late? You’re usually cracking the whip before the sun rises.” He flicked his wrist like he was cracking an actual whip.
“It was a late night. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends the last few weeks with the holidays.” She moved about the kitchen, keeping busy so she didn’t have to look at him. Rex knew her well. He’d detect she was hiding something by the expression on her face.
“I hear ya. I’m back on the road in a couple weeks.” His voice lacked his usual enthusiasm for his work travel.
“Any place exciting?” She removed a couple bowls from the dishrack and placed them in the cupboard.
“If by exciting you mean bitter cold, then yes—the Midwest.”
They laughed.
She shivered. “Just the mention of it gives me chills.” They had grown up in Oregon until her freshman year of high school.
The Pacific Northwest winters were cold and wet.
She’d never move back to anywhere that required six months of layer after layer of clothes.
The summers in Florida could be grueling with ninety-five degree temps for six months, but she’d take the heat over freezing her ass off any day.
“Tell me about your agenda.” She walked over to her kitchen table and pulled out the chair.
Rex grabbed the last remaining croissant and the jelly and sat across from her.
“You better plan on splitting that.” She pointed a finger at him.
He tore the croissant in half and handed her a piece. “Of course. Anything for my favorite sister.”
“I’m your only sister, Rexy.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Now get on with it.”