by Harloe Rae
She taps her chin. “Well, in that case, how’s Mister Tall, Broody, and Sexy?”
“Really? Talking about him will make you happy?” It takes a ton of effort to keep my voice level. Just hearing that man’s nickname makes me squirm.
Sadie bobs her head. “Oh, yes. Super-giddy. Let me live vicariously.”
Traitorous butterflies wake up and take flight in my belly. “I guess he’s fine. We’ve reached somewhat of a civil agreement.” If nothing else, I have a better understanding of his rude attitude and abhorrence to women.
She begins to fake-snore at maximum volume. The grating noise attracts attention from people nearby. I dip my chin and look the opposite way. Sadie scoots closer, shutting down my plans for escape.
“Was that snooze-alert too subtle? I expect more than that.” She twirls two fingers, motioning for me to spill.
“Such as?”
“He storms into Thicket and ravishes you,” she replies.
Tingles dance the Cha-Cha up my legs. My breathy sigh gives me away. “That was a great day.”
“Mm-hmm, I need a deal like that. My lips haven’t been sucked on in months.”
I laugh. “A kiss would suffice.”
“Nope. I want passion all up in my lady bits.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but that appears to have been a one-time thing. Brance hasn’t given any indication of another round.”
She slaps her thigh. “That’s bogus. How long has it been?”
I flip my hand top to bottom. “Two weeks?”
“But he’s been by?”
“Yep, with Ollie.” A smile lifts my cheeks.
Sadie snaps her fingers. “Damn. I want another juicy rendezvous.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
“Maybe he’s playing hard to get?”
My snort is loud and cracks through the boisterous ruckus streaming from all corners of the park. “That’d be a big hell no.”
She reaches for her drink. Most of the ice is melted and condensation drips down to her lap. “I might as well order my tea hot in this weather.”
I grab my own beverage and take a sip of the lukewarm liquid. “We can go for ice cream in a bit.”
As if hearing our plans, a bolt of youthful energy zooms toward us. That bundle of vibrant color comes to a screeching halt in front of me. I blink, and Ollie appears from the blur of dust.
“Miss Braelyn!” The wide grin he’s donning reveals all of his teeth. “What’re you doing here?”
I bend forward and ruffle his unruly mop of hair. “Hey, Ollie. What a nice surprise. I’m enjoying the great outdoors with my friend.” I look to her, nodding at him. “Sadie, meet Ollie. He’s my best customer.”
He preens with my praise, puffing out his chest. “Thicket is my most favorite shop ever.”
Sadie beams at him. “Doesn’t Braelyn have the best candy? I love it.”
Ollie bounces on his toes. “So do I. Sometimes on Saturday she gives me extra.”
“Lucky duck. You must be super-special.” She winks at him, and they exchange a high-five.
“I sure am.” He does a little jig, showing us his best moves. There’s not a shy bone in this kid’s body. “Right, Miss Braelyn?”
“Absolutely, buddy. I look forward to your visits the most.” And that’s the honest truth.
“Really?” Wonder rattles in his tone. Ollie steps closer, and I lift my arms to wrap him up. But I stop short of looping them around his shoulders for a hug. That’d be inappropriate. Or maybe not. I’m still figuring out the lines. At the last second, I yank my hands away and nod instead.
“Yes, of course. So, what’re you doing here, sweetie?”
He hitches a little thumb over his shoulder. “We’re gonna play.”
I don’t have the chance to ask who’s with him. Brance appears out of woodsy-scented air, looking hot enough to drop panties all across town. I’m well aware he rocks a suit better than any other man in the history of humanity. But Brance dressed down in a plain tee and faded jeans? Oh, Lord. Denim has never looked so appetizing. And let’s not leave out the two-days’ worth of stubble. He’s certifiably combustible.
The pleasant temperature spikes a thousand degrees, and I’m boiling in lust. Next to me, Sadie makes a high-pitch noise in her throat. Her jaw is hanging down to the gravel. Guess I’m not the only one affected.
“Holy shit,” she whispers. “Is that Brance?”
I squeeze my eyes shut against a thrashing wave of arousal. “Yes.”
“Wow. And why aren’t you hitting that? I mean, how do you refrain?” Sadie has a death grip on my arm. I wince and peel her fingers off me.
“Will you keep your voice down?” I shush her and suck in a hiss through my clenched teeth.
Brance’s knowing grin spreads wider the more we talk. Those dimples make a rare appearance. My hormones spill out in an embarrassing puddle at his feet. I’m so screwed. This man is a walking advertisement for orgasms.
“Ladies,” he greets.
“Hi.” My voice is barely more than a squeak. I hitch my shoulders up, as if that’ll protect me. Sadie’s elbow bumps me in the ribs. I clear the lust from my throat. “Uh, this is my friend, Sadie.” I’m sure my cheeks are the shade of a tomato. I fan my face, desperately needing a reprieve.
Brance pays very little mind to my friend. After a quick nod in greeting, his rapt attention returns to me. His eyes are covered by a mirrored pair of aviators, saving me from receiving the full impact. But at this point, it doesn’t matter. I feel the heat of his stare to my very core.
A man I haven’t met before strides up next to Brance. “Dude, your kid has wheels. What’s the big hurry?”
Brance gestures to me. “Ollie saw a familiar face. This is Braelyn.” He flicks a wrist at Sadie. “And her friend.”
The stranger bounces his brows at me. “Ah, we finally meet. I’m Jordan. This guy’s best friend”—he claps Brance on the back while jutting his chin toward Ollie—“and that little man’s godfather.”
Brance grunts and shakes off his friend’s touch. “We went to law school together and practice at the same firm.”
“We’re tight like that,” Jordan adds.
“Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” Sadie mumbles under her breath. “Thank you.”
When I peek over at her, she’s pointing to the sky. I laugh, her reaction releasing the pressure in my straining lungs.
She leans closer to me, her whisper tickling my ear. “Did they walk straight off a model shoot for GQ? Good grief.”
I bow my head to hide the telling smile. “You’re being really obvious.”
“That’s the goal.” She sends a flirty finger wave to Jordan. “Hey there, handsome. I’m Sadie.”
He moves closer, taking her hand and placing a delicate kiss on the top. “It’s a pleasure.”
Sadie melts into the bench with a fluttery sigh. “Whoa.”
I bite my tongue to trap the giggle that’s bubbling up. At least one of us is getting properly romanced. I shift away, attempting to give them some semblance of privacy. Their chemistry is setting off sparks in every direction.
When I look up, Brance is scowling at them. No surprise there. Ollie is standing beside his father, quiet to a point of concern. He’s busy studying all of us. I’m sure this kid sees everything. A furrow dents his brow, but the lines clear quick enough. He hops toward Jordan.
“Uncle Jordy?” Ollie tugs on his sleeve. “Will you push me on the swings?”
Jordan clasps their palms together. “Absolutely, buddy.”
Ollie smiles at Sadie, the blue of his eyes sparkling. “And Miss Sadie? Will you help him?”
My friend leaps to her sandaled feet. “I’d love to.”
I inch forward, waiting for my invitation. But Ollie is staring at Brance.
“Daddy?” His tone is sugary sweet. “Stay here and keep Miss Braelyn company, okay?”
Brance stills. For a moment, I’m certain he’s going to reject Ollie’s wishes. But
then the tension deflates from his posture. “Sure, kiddo. Go have fun.”
The trio take off for the playground without a backward glance. With just the two of us left, the atmosphere grows thick and hazy. My pulse is going haywire. I do my best to avoid Brance’s electrified presence in front of me. He’s giving off some seriously pissed-off vibes.
After a full minute passes, he mutters something unintelligible and takes a seat next to me. The wood groans with his weight. I stifle a laugh.
A rumble rises from his chest. “Yeah, real funny. My son makes a terrible matchmaker.”
“Ouch. Thanks for that. My self-esteem is flimsy enough.” I put more distance between us. He flings a variation of abrasive shit at me on the regular. I’m more than accustomed to the stench. But it’s extra potent this afternoon. Probably due to him looking extra delicious and smelling like a sinful fantasy. He makes me weak in the filthiest of ways.
Brance scratches over his weekend growth of scruff. “My feelings on this matter have always been clear.”
“I was never in doubt.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
“Yep, got it.” I search the grounds for an available space to sit. My favorite spot is being tainted.
He yanks off his shades and glares at me. “What brings you to this area? Isn’t it a bit out of your way?”
“Because you know where I live?”
He doesn’t have a response to that. I grin, my expression probably dripping with smug satisfaction. My bruised ego raises her head, a sneaky plan taking shape.
“Maybe I’m here meeting someone.”
He doesn’t have to know I’m referring to Sadie.
“Bullshit,” he spits.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m single and ready to put myself out there.” I just wish the man sitting next to me would be more receptive. Another release or two from him would do the trick. I feel like we share some version of a mangled bond. A deep-rooted understanding only a catastrophe of pain leaves behind. But I’m foolish for thinking Brance is looking at me with anything other than thinly veiled indifference.
“Pretty sure you already are. Do you recall being ready to fuck me a few weeks ago?”
“That’s ancient history.”
“Is it?” Suddenly he’s so close that his breath is hot on my neck.
I can’t stop the shiver from wracking my limbs. It takes every ounce of self-control to keep my eyes trained straight ahead. Blistering flames race through my veins. I gulp and silently recite the alphabet. Am I a coward for not facing him? Most definitely.
The bench creaks when he shifts out of my personal space. “Don’t look so terrified. We both know you’re not repulsed by my touch.”
The truth parts my lips. I’m two seconds away from suggesting a secluded location more suitable for straddling his lap. There has to be an abandoned lot nearby. But no. That would be very bad. I scramble for a distraction.
“Is it all right for me to hug Ollie?” I blurt.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?”
“A serious one. Earlier it seemed like he was swooping in, but I wasn’t sure that’d be okay.”
“Please don’t deprive my child of affection, Braelyn. If he wants a hug, give him one. You’ll likely shatter his heart by denying him.”
“What? Why?”
Brance flails his arms in a wild circle, the answer waiting right there. “Because he’s crazy about you. Pretty sure running into you today has made his entire month. If he asks me to marry you one more time, I’m likely to go insane. He’d have you living with us in a second.”
I’ll never admit how breathless that possibility makes me. “That’s silly.”
“But it’s the truth.”
My heart pounds so hard it’s liable to burst. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He rubs his temples. “Give my son the credit. This is not my doing.”
The lash of his words doesn’t strike. I’m protected by the comfort of hearing Ollie likes having me around. This bit of information is exactly what my wounded pride needed. I smile at him, probably looking like a loon. “Thanks.”
Brance twists toward me. “For what?”
I kick at the gravel, sending tiny rocks flying. “Telling me how he feels. It’s good to hear that. But us getting married is off the table.”
“I’m sure he’ll ask you sooner or later. I’m not giving him the desired response.”
I cough over a gasp. How the hell would I get out of that pickle?
Ollie bounds up to us, intervening without realizing. “Daddy, guess what? Uncle Jordy told me we’re going to Five Squares for dinner. Braelyn and Sadie can come with us.” Ollie’s twinkling gaze flings to me. “I can show you how to play the ducky game.”
I peek at Brance from the corner of my eye. His jaw is locked. A muscle twitches from the effort. I can practically hear his thoughts stewing. It doesn’t appear he’s planning to respond.
“That sounds great, sweetie.” I have no intentions of denying Ollie anything. Deep down I know Brance agrees with me, happily or not.
Brance
Goose
I unbuckle Ollie from his seat, and he wiggles free of the straps. Before I can blink, he jumps down and begins spinning in circles on the sidewalk. Jordan steps out from the passenger side and joins me. We watch my son entertain himself with an imaginary sword. If I could bottle his energy, we’d make a fortune.
“Ah, to be young again.” Jordan leans against my car.
I ignore his sentiment. “Thanks for the fucking set-up.”
He straightens off the fender and crosses his arms. “How long have you been holding that in?”
“The entire ride over here.”
“Don’t pretend to be mad.” His placating tone grates on my already shot nerves.
I flare my nostrils and force out a cleansing breath. “I’m beyond livid. Thanks for using Ollie against me.”
“Oh, this was entirely his idea.” He points to the restaurant, which appears warm and inviting in front of us. I feel the complete opposite.
“Why am I not surprised,” I mutter.
“Your son had the right idea.”
I exaggerate my snort. “Hey, broken record. We’ve already been over this. And countless times at that.”
Jordan scuffs his shoe over the concrete. “My pestering has been proven effective.”
“Yet my decision remains the same.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn.”
My chuckle is pitch black. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“It’s served me well.”
Ollie crashes into me, wrapping his arms around my leg. “Daddy?”
I pin Jordan with a glare before smoothing my features. “Yeah, buddy?”
“Are you done arguing?”
I swallow the ball of frustration aimed at my friend. All Ollie will see is a strained smile. “Yes. Jordan is being goofy garbage.”
My son gasps. “Uncle Jordy, stop being stinky.”
He holds up a palm. “I’ll take a shower later.”
His response seems to appease Ollie and provides a detour out of this conversation.
“No woman worth keeping will stick around if you smell bad. And we know how bad you
want a girlfriend.” I paste on a grin with my advice.
Jordan barks out a laugh. “You’re digging in the dirt, man.”
I grip his shoulder. “Quit making it easy on me.”
He rolls his eyes. “This isn’t over.”
“We’ll see,” I mutter.
“Can we go inside? Please?” My son yanks at my jeans.
I run my thumb down his smooth cheek. “Of course, little man. Lead the way.”
Ollie runs to the entrance without a beat of hesitation. Jordan and I follow close behind, chewing on his dust. I open the heavy metal door
and usher them inside. The restaurant appears low key, which isn’t surprising at four o’clock on a Sunday. Five Square is a causal joint that we frequent often enough. Ollie goes bonkers for the sorry excuse of an arcade they have hidden in a back corner.
The women are waiting in the lobby, chattering away. Their conversation comes to an abrupt end when they catch sight of us. Sadie is directing a blinding smile at Jordan, which he returns in spades. Braelyn holds up a hand, and Ollie slaps their palms together. I stand off to the side, already counting the minutes until this disaster is over.
How in the hell did I get roped into this? It smells like shit is about to hit the fan. And here I am, plowing in with my eyes wide open.
I glance around for the most accessible exits. On the plus side, there appears to be several. More importantly, the bathroom is easy to find along the far wall. The bar is separated from the dining area. I’m tempted to down a few shots of something strong before attempting to survive this family-style meal. That should take the edge off.
“Come on,” Jordan says. “I’ll buy you a beer at the table.”
Fucker knows me too well. I offer a grunt and trudge behind him to a circular five-top. Usually Ollie prefers sitting in a booth, but I don’t comment. Nothing about this situation is what I’m accustomed to. I’ll let him handle this oversight on his own.
Without pause, he snags a chair in the middle. “Will you sit by me, Miss Braelyn?”
A belt cinches around my chest at his words. My son is too damn attached to this woman. What’s going to happen when she inevitably fucks us over? I scrub my forehead, unable to process the clusterfuck it will cause.
Sadie and Jordan settle in, leaving me the other spot next to Ollie. I wedge myself into the tight space with a grunt. The rickety chair almost topples under my weight. I bang my elbow in an effort to remain upright and not fall ass over backward. That’d be extremely fitting for the occasion.
Jordan coughs into his fist. “Smooth, dude. Keep that shit up. You’re making me look like a rockstar.”
I almost punch him in the arm. “Don’t curse in front of Ollie.”
He has the decency to wince. “My bad, sorry. But little man is totally distracted.”
I follow his line of sight and find Ollie immersed in a coloring project. His tongue pops out from the corner of his mouth. Concentration crinkles his forehead. The red crayon in his hand moves at breakneck pace.