Chapter Thirty-Five
Brew
W e spent a long time on that bench while she processed everything I had told her.
Long after the fire burned out and Lennon and Wade doused the embers with buckets of water.
It was long after the food was put away and the grill was carried back up to the deck.
It was long after everyone started to head home.
When we finally made it back inside, only Lennon and Amiya, Parker and Audrey, and Anson and Tabby were still left.
Brandee thanked them for the invitation, and the girls all exchanged hugs.
Then I followed her back to Ida Mae’s house.
She dropped off the painting that Tabby had created for her, and while she packed an overnight bag, I took care of Snowflake and Felix by feeding and watering them.
Afterward, we got into my truck and headed toward the east end of the island.
The second we pull up to the gate, I feel her eyes on me.
She sits quietly in the passenger seat, her fingers drumming nervously against her thigh.
Her eyes widen as the headlights illuminate the house—my house.
I’ve always tried to convince myself that it’s just a structure with four walls and a view, but the expression on her face reveals the truth—it’s a beachfront mansion.
“You live here,” she says finally.
I glance at her, hand still on the gearshift. “Yep.”
“This whole thing is your house?”
I nod. “All of it.”
She lets out a breath that turns into a laugh. “Holy crap, Brew. I was picturing … I don’t know … a large beach house on stilts, like the one Lennon and Amiya live in, but with a pool or something. Not a full-on coastal manor.”
I smirk. “I do have a pool. It’s an infinity pool that overlooks my private beach. It’s heated if you want to take a dip.”
Brandee turns to look at me, a mix of amusement and shock lighting up her face. “Wait until Erin hears that the sexy bartender I’ve been sleeping with happens to own a literal oceanfront estate.”
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds a little over the top.”
She snorts. “A little over the top? This place should have its own zip code.”
I pull into the gate and turn off the engine, and my chest tightens slightly. This is it—the moment she sees all of me. Suddenly, all the fear I felt begins to fade away. I want to share this with her. I want her to know everything about me.
She looks back at the house, then at me. Her expression softens. “This is nice, but I still prefer the creaky old boat,” she says.
“Oh, yeah? Wait until you see my yacht,” I reply, leaning over to kiss her.
Then I exit the truck, walk around the hood, and open her door.
She hands me her duffel bag, which I toss over my shoulder before taking her hand and leading her to the garage.
I enter the code, and the door opens, revealing my Aston Martin Valkyrie and Mercedes G-Wagon.
She doesn’t say anything as I walk her past the vehicles to the elevator door.
As she steps into the foyer, she gasps at the sight of the floor-to-ceiling windows and the ocean beyond. The living room features a large gas fireplace, a wraparound couch, a couple of posh armchairs, and a piano in the corner that has never been played.
“My mother did most of the decorating, but the couch is all me,” I say while she slowly takes it all in. “The kitchen is over here.”
I lead her to the gourmet chef’s kitchen, which has a large island that seats eight, and then to the connected dining room with a table that seats eighteen.
“That staircase to the right leads up to the second floor, where there are four guest bedrooms and four bathrooms,” I explain, and her eyes go wide.
“Do you have that many guests?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Nope. The only people who ever come here are my friends who live on the island.”
“What about your parents?” she inquires.
“They own the house next door, but they’re rarely here.
Mom prefers their house in Charlotte because her country club is there, and she has a lot of friends.
My grandfather owns the home on the other side, and he comes by a bit more often, but he travels all over the world during the offseason.
My sister, Alexandria, and her family stay here from time to time, but only if Mom is getting on her nerves.
Otherwise, they have an entire floor next door. ”
“Okay,” she murmurs. “Now I see why you were nervous to show me this. It’s … a lot.”
“Too much?” I ask, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
She turns back toward me, that knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “I mean, the spectacular views are kind of sexy. But don’t think this gets you out of washing dishes or taking out trash like a normal person.”
My smile spreads across my face. “Nope. I clean toilets and wash clothes too.”
“You do not,” she scoffs.
“During the season when I’m on the road, I have someone who comes to take care of the house because I don’t have much time to spare when I’m here, especially if I want to spend time at Whiskey Joe’s.
However, when I’m home for the three months between seasons, I do everything myself.
When we get upstairs, you’ll see the massive pile of laundry. ”
I lead her through the main room, where the sliding doors open up to the pool deck, the moonlight shimmering across the water. Brandee walks straight to the glass, her silhouette glowing against the ocean backdrop.
She turns toward me, voice soft. “You’ve been hiding a whole damn life.”
“I wasn’t trying to lie,” I say. “I just … I kinda liked being Brew, the guy who fixes cars and slings beers. I didn’t want to lead with the flashy stuff. I wanted you to know me.”
She’s quiet for a beat. Then she walks over and slides her arms around my waist, resting her head on my chest. “I liked you broke. I like you filthy rich.”
I laugh, pulling her in tighter. “Fair enough.”
Then she tilts her head back and grins. “Now … show me your bedroom. I’m dying to see if it lives up to the rest of this place.”
“Oh, it does,” I say as I lead her back to the elevator and up to the third floor. “The attached bathroom even has heated floors.”
She steps off into the large suite.
California king. White linens. Oversize windows that look out over the beach. A fireplace flickering in the corner.
Brandee stands at the edge of it, hands on her hips. “This bed is massive.”
“Good,” I say, stepping up behind her and pressing a kiss to her neck. “More room to wear you out.”
She turns in my arms, eyes dancing. “Oh, really?”
I shrug, smug. “Yeah, no offense to Ida Mae, but that guest bedroom of hers could use a king-size bed.”
She laughs, slipping her hands under my shirt, fingertips brushing my skin. “I doubt she has any guests who need a lot of square footage.”
We don’t make it under the covers right away.
Clothes disappear slowly—her boots first, then her flannel. She lets it slide off her shoulders and drop to the floor as she walks backward toward the bed. She watches me watching her as her jeans come off next. And I give chase.
I let my fingers trail up her thighs and whisper across the slip of silk that covers her. “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”
Her breath catches. “Oh, yeah? Why don’t you show me?”
She steps backward, pulling me toward the bed, her smirk turning softer. “And for the record, I was crazy about you before the big mansion reveal.”
I catch her around the waist and toss her gently onto the mattress. She laughs, bouncing a little on the plush comforter. She squeals, giggling as she scrambles up toward the headboard.
“You look good in my bed,” I say, crawling up after her. “Like you belong in it.”
“You think so, huh?” she murmurs, her voice hushed, vulnerable.
I settle on top of her, my arms on either side of her, trapping her in. “I do.”
Then her lips are on mine. I kiss her as I unclasp the front of her bra, and it falls off to the sides. She gasps as I cup a breast and pinch the tiny bud between my fingers, and I deepen the kiss, stroking my tongue against hers. Drinking her in.
“Brew,” she moans as I break away.
I stand and quickly undress. I reach into the top drawer of the nightstand for a condom, and she watches as I roll it down my throbbing cock.
In a flash, I’m prowling back up her body. Licking and nipping her skin as I go. She writhes beneath me as I slip her panties down her legs.
“You’re so wet,” I groan as my thumb teases her clit.
She wraps her legs around my hips, and I sink into her.
“Yes,” she cries.
I begin to pump slowly. Savoring the feel of her surrounding me.
“Oh God, you feel so good,” she gasps as she circles her hips to meet my thrusts.
I kiss each of her breasts. Then lick my way up her chest to her collarbone. Sucking the sensitive spot at the bottom of her throat.
Her fingers thread into my hair, and she tugs hard as I kiss her neck and her chin before finally taking her mouth again as I start pushing harder. Her sweet warmth clinches, drawing me in deeper.
That is when I lose all control.
I grab her hips and start lifting them as I hammer into her. Her groans grow louder and more desperate. My cock throbs as my thrusts quicken.
When I think I can’t hold on any longer, I feel her muscles start to spasm, and my name falls from her lips.
I take her mouth with mine, and I let go as she contracts around me. My climax roaring through me.
I’ve had lots of sex. I’ve had lots of good sex, but nothing can touch the pleasure this woman gives me.
I pull her close and hold her as our heart rates calm. I kiss her eyes, her nose, and her lips until she sighs with contentment.
After a few moments, I leave her and step into the bathroom to discard the condom and bring her a cool hand towel.
I tuck her into my side, and we lie tangled in the sheets, the moonlight streaming across the room.
She’s curled up beside me, head on my chest, tracing lazy circles on my skin with her fingertips.
“You were right,” she whispers.
“About what?”
“The bigger bed is better. You definitely wore me out.”
I laugh as I tug the comforter over us.
And for the first time in a long time, I fall asleep in my bed with someone next to me—and I like the way it feels.