Chapter Eighteen
J ane
“So tell me how you got my brother to settle down?” Jane swung her leg over the bench and pulled Anna down next to her.
Anna was stunning in all the ways Jane was not.
Anna’s dark chestnut waves cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting nicely against her peach blouse.
Her golden irises sparkled. Her body curved in all the ways men loved.
Jane had no questions why her brother was so smitten.
Anna’s eyes widened. “I’m not sure he’s settled down.” Anna squirmed in her seat. She was clearly uncomfortable being put on the spot but Jane needed to ensure that Anna wasn’t playing games with Rex. He’d been through enough. He was protective of her and she of him.
“My brother hasn’t dated since that wench, Layla. Not sure if he told you about her. I never liked her. But anywho ... you might not be married, but he’s definitely serious about you. He hasn’t introduced me to any girl in a long time.”
Anna bites her lower lip. “It’s still new. We’re getting to know each other.”
“He likes you, Anna. You’re all he talks about.
And that’s saying a lot because before, his only focus was work.
This beer. That beer. This restaurant. That bar.
His trip to Oregon. Or Maine. Blah. Blah.
To be honest, I was worried.” She smiles at Anna.
He wrapped himself up in work after he found Layla with one of his good friends.
She believed he immersed himself in travel so he could hook up with girls he’d never have to see again.
“I’m super proud of him and the boys, but there is more to life than work. ”
“I’m flattered he’s talked about me so much.” Anna’s cheeks pinkened. “I can relate to the center of his world being work. I’m cut from the same cloth.” She shrugged a shoulder.
“Do you like him?” Jane scrutinized her face, watching for any tics that would mean she wasn’t being wholly honest. But she didn’t see any.
“Yes. Of course.” Anna swallowed. “He was unexpected. I certainly hadn’t planned to meet someone on a business trip to Michigan, but life happens.”
“I like that. Unexpected. Life should have some unexpected things.” She smiled and her gaze drifted to Brady, leaning against the bar chatting with her brother.
He was like a cold glass of lemonade on a blistering summer day—refreshing, irresistible, never enough. She could stare at him all day and never be quenched.
That dark, silky hair she’d once fisted in her hands to guide his mouth between her thighs now stood in a tousled wave.
That sinful mouth—God, the things he did with it—moved quickly as he chatted.
And those eyes, those deep brown eyes that once saw straight through her, flicked her way and locked on.
Mexico was supposed to be a reset. A breath. An exhale. She’d thought she could leave her feelings for him somewhere in the ocean air or on the meditation mat. But no. Not possible. Seeing him now verified that.
She didn’t just want Brady.
She wanted only Brady.
And knowing that—finally knowing that—was freeing in a way she hadn’t expected.
She glanced at Anna, who had followed her gaze. When Anna looked back at her, she raised an eyebrow as if questioning her.
Uh oh. Play it cool . “So tell me about you before Rex gets here and hogs all your attention.”
Anna cleared her throat. “Ah, what do you want to know?”
“What’s your favorite movie?”
Anna’s knee bounced. “God! You’re starting off with a hard one. Hm ... Under the Tuscan Sun .” She smiled shyly like her choice seemed silly.
“Did you read the book?” Jane read a lot of Thich Nhat Nahn but she also enjoyed getting swept away by a good and sexy romance. And what says romance more than a broken-hearted woman refurbishing a house in Tuscany. No one does romance like the Italians.
“I did. Obviously, the film dramatized some of it, but I do love the scenery of the film.” Anna looked away, almost reflective.
“Have you ever been to Italy?” Jane could get dreamy-eyed thinking about her travels to Italy. The food. The wine. The landscape. The sea. The men.
Anna shook her head pulling Jane back from her thoughts.
“You’d love it. You must definitely go.”
“Go where?” Rex said.
“You must take Anna to Italy. Tuscany—particularly.” Jane squealed.
Rex glanced over at Anna, whose cheeks were now the color of cherries. “I’m still waiting for the invite to the Tuscan villa—from her.” He winked at Anna.
“Say what?” Jane asks.
Rex sat next to Anna and proceeded to tell Jane about his and Anna’s conversation in the hotel room that first night.
Anna would interrupt whenever she felt that Rex exaggerated or twisted the truth.
The banter was cute and caused Jane’s heart to constrict.
She wanted this sort of teasing, fun and caring relationship.
She could have it with Brady. She wanted it with him.
****
J ane kicked back on the couch in her family room, her bare feet on the thick wood of her farmhouse coffee table. Jimmy Fallon opened his show with his monologue. He always squeaked out a few laughs from her. Sometimes her stomach would hurt from her laughter.
The soft buzz of her phone indicating an incoming text message startled her. It was after 11:30. She picked up her phone from the coffee table and her eyes bugged out.
Brady : Open your door.
Heat coursed through her at just the sight of his name and his demand. They hadn’t really talked aside from some playful banter at the brewery that night. She hadn’t figured out her next move, not completely, even though her heart had already made some big decision where Brady was concerned.
What the hell was he doing here?
Fuzzy Snoopy pajama pants and red tank top. Of all the nights to dress for bed like a kid. Why couldn’t she have been in something sexy? Something that would make him forget how to breathe when she opened the door? If she opened the door.
She rolled her eyes. Who was she kidding. Of course, she was going to open it.
She cracked it open and there he was. Dark.
Broody. Beautiful. Standing on her porch like a storm she wanted to get swept up in.
His black slacks hugged his legs. His light gray button-down pulled tight across his chest. His hair was a little messy, like he’d raked his hands through it one too many times. Classic Brady. Tortured and sexy.
“What are you doing here, Brady?” She wished her voice didn’t sound so breathy but that’s what he did to her.
“Open the door, Princess.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s been more than three fucking weeks and I can’t stand another second away from you.”
Her heart squeezed. Despite all his broodiness, he was a softie at heart. She opened the door a little more. “You stayed away fine the week before I left.”
He moved forward and into her. He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and pulled her head back. “I was anything but fine.” His deep brown eyes stared down at her.
“I’m sure you’ve found plenty of women to keep your dick warm and satisfied.
” The words came out hard because she knew his appetite and he’d never go three plus weeks without sex.
He’d reminded her of that the first night they’d fucked.
And the thought of him with another woman made her angrier than a disturbed hornets’ nest.
He pushed her further into the house, kicking the door closed behind him.
“The only thing that kept my dick warm these last weeks was my hand. And I wouldn’t call any of it satisfying.
” He skated his hand down her arm and over her hip.
An electric current hummed through her body like it always did when he touched her.
“Bullshit.” There was no way Brady didn’t sleep with a single woman while she was gone in Mexico. No fucking way.
“I wish it weren’t true. I wish I didn’t have a penchant for torturing myself when it comes to you, but I do.” He guided her into her kitchen with a hand on her hip and the other hanging onto her ponytail. Her lower back hit the island and he tugged her hair.
“I don’t be—” He slammed his mouth down on hers and cut off her words.
The kiss was aggressive. Rough. Like he was starving for her.
She gasped at the force, at the heat of it. He thrust his tongue between her parted lips and licked into her, tasting, claiming. She fisted his shirt in both hands to keep her balance, to ground herself in the storm that was him.
He devoured her mouth in relentless licks and bites, tilting her head just a bit with a slight tug of her hair.
He deepened the kiss like he wanted to crawl inside her.
His chest pressed flush to hers. His hips pinned her to the island.
His erection throbbed against her and heat pooled low in her belly.
A primal growl rumbled in his chest.
She swallowed it, yanking him closer still.
Without breaking their kiss, he shifted, wedging a knee between her thighs. He slid a hand inside her pajama pants. No panties. At least she’d had that right. His fingers found her slick and ready, stroking through her folds until he brushed her clit.
She moaned, her hips instinctively arching into his touch.
“Fuck me.” He breathed against her mouth. “Jesus Christ, you’re wet.” He thrust one finger, then two inside her and pumped them. “Your pussy is always so ready for me, isn’t it? You want this almost as much as I do.”
“More.” She whispered because she couldn’t find her voice.
“Princess, that’s impossible.” He moved his mouth across her cheek, down her neck—nipping her flesh and setting her on fire.
She fumbled with his belt buckle, wanting desperately to feel him. Once the belt was undone, she unbuttoned his pants and slipped her hand inside. She wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard erection and pumped. A guttural sound escaped him.
He jerked her soft pants down her legs with one hand until they pooled at her feet. “Step out.” He growled.
She kicked her pants to the side, bare from the waist down.
He shoved his pants down his hips in one smooth movement, his cock springing free between them. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he hoisted her onto the edge of the counter. As he did, he slid his fingers from her slick heat and brought them to her lips.
“Suck.”
Before she could answer, before a sound even left her throat, he thrust into her—hard, deep, and all at once.
She cried out and threw her head back. The overload of sensation—the taste of herself on his fingers, the way he filled her to the hilt, the primal roughness—was almost too much to bear. Every nerve lit up. It was the most erotic moment of her life.
He pumped into her with ferocity, like he wouldn’t survive if he wasn’t fucking her. He slipped his fingers out of her mouth and dropped his hand between them and thumbed her clit. She went off like a rocket. Stars sparkled in her peripheral and her vision blurred.
“That’s it. Come on my cock.” He pounded into her.
His dirty words strung along almost incoherently.
He rested his forehead against hers, his gaze unfocused.
His pupils dilated. “Oh, fuck! Oh, my God. I love you. I fucking love you so much.” He roared like a lion and came with the force of a Cat 5 hurricane.
He pistoned his hips into her, grounding out his orgasm until he collapsed on top of her.
A half-smile crept on her lips. I love you too.