Ask Me Why: An Enemies to Lovers Standalone Romance

by Harloe Rae

  Sadie’s face lights up. “Really? Wow, that man has magical powers.”

  I reverse out of the driveway with a laugh. “All he needs is another ego boost.”

  “I bet. You’re stroking that bad boy several times a week.”

  A puff of air escapes my lips. “You’re so bad.”

  “Likewise,” she replies.

  I curl my fingers around the leather grip. “I’ve been feeling better lately, Dee.”

  She rubs my shoulder. “It shows, girlfriend. Why do you think I bought that suit? Strut your hot ass.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “That’s why you have me around. I sure will, for your benefit.”

  “Such a great friend.” I wink at her.

  “In all seriousness, I’m happy for you. No matter the cause or reason, seeing you smile is damn refreshing.”

  “It really is.”

  I turn onto the main road that leads down to the beach. The lots look full, so I park along the curb. A little walking will do us good. Sadie climbs out and steps toward the meter.

  “It’s the weekend. Don’t waste your quarters.”

  She points at me. “Good call. I’ll save my change for the vending machine.”

  “We could’ve stopped for snacks.”

  “And delay this adventure even longer? Brance wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  I groan, peeking down at my outfit. “I cannot believe you talked me into this.”

  She makes a disbelieving noise in her throat. “Brae, you look smokin’ hot. Brance will find some tiki hut for you two. It’s gonna be a wild ride. You better spill all the deets. You owe me, sistah.”

  I gape at her. But there’s no denying the rush of heat spreading through my veins. “There will be none of that. We’re in a public place.”

  “Oh, come on—you’re creative. Don’t pretend.”

  I bow my head, hiding the fire traveling up my cheeks. “Whatever.”

  “Take off that shapeless sack and show him what you’ve got.”

  “He already knows,” I whisper.

  Sadie tips her head back, cackling way too loud. “That’s my best friend. You’re gonna get laid.”

  I almost slap a palm over her mouth. “Will you keep your voice down?”

  “Why hide the truth?”

  “Jeez, no pressure.”

  She bumps her hip into me. “Okay, fine. This is a fun family outing. No need to panic.”

  “Friendly,” I correct. “We’re just friends.”

  “With hella good benefits.” Her grin stretches wide.

  “You’re one to talk. How’s Jordan?”

  Sadie’s attention snaps forward. “Oh, look! They’re here.”

  Brance, Ollie, and Jordan are huddled in a small circle. She conveniently avoids my question by racing off toward the group of guys. I follow behind at a leisurely pace. There’s zero need to hurry in any part of me. I have every intention of relaxing my scantily clad butt.

  My flip-flops fill with warm sand as I narrow the distance. The sun is high in the cloudless sky, bathing us in glorious vitamin D. Ollie splashes into the water, leaving Brance standing off to the side alone. My heart gallops at the sight of him in those sinfully low swim trunks.

  As if he senses me approach, he twists around and traps me with his piercing gaze. His eyes trace across every part of me. Regardless of the summer humidity, I break out in goosebumps. I’ve never felt so exposed. But that’s not unpleasant under his focus. In two strides, Brance closes the remaining distance between us.

  “Well, look at you.”

  I bite my lip. “Hey yourself. Sorry about not returning your texts.”

  His lifts a broad shoulder. “No worries. You’re here now.”

  I flutter my lashes. “Miss me?”

  Brance grunts. “Maybe.”

  A zing of something sharp shoots through my chest. “Oh?”

  He wipes over his mouth, hiding a grin. “Don’t make it weird.”

  I bite my tongue and try keeping the giddy butterflies in check. “M’kay.”

  “Whatcha hiding under here?” He pulls at the collar of my dress.

  “This ridiculous bikini Sadie bought for me. It belongs on a porno shoot.”

  He bends lower toward my boobs. “I’d love to see it.”

  I shove him off. “I’m sure you would.”

  Jordan wanders over and claps Brance on the back. “Ready?”

  I look between them. “Going somewhere?”

  “We’re gonna play volleyball. Wanna watch?” Brance wags his brows.

  I suck in a sharp breath, imagining him diving all over the court. My ovaries couldn’t handle it. “Uh, what about Ollie?”

  He seeks his son out in the lake. “He can join us.”

  “No, he’s having too much fun. I’ll hang back and keep him company.”

  He bops me on the nose. “Good call.”

  In a move far too calculated, Brance whips off his white tee and tosses it at me. I swallow the lust billowing up my throat. Brance has the furthest thing from a stereotypical dad-bod. With chiseled abs and defined muscles, he puts others to shame. For me, he’s a total standout. I’ll never tire of staring. Hopefully he doesn’t mind. Based off his wicked smirk, this man appreciates my gawking.

  Good grief, he’s sexy. I’m certain a collective sigh rings out from every woman lining this strip of beach. My seat is front row, and hot damn, I’m enjoying the show. Should I clap? He gently drags a finger down my arm. “See you in a bit, babe.”

  With that parting shot, he struts off in all his cocky glory.

  “Miss Braelyn!” Ollie races up to my side. “You’re finally here! Now we can build a sandcastle.”

  His words sound lost in a tunnel, barely a low whistle. I’m still tracking Brance’s retreating form, a golden beacon glowing in the sun. He’s too damn hot.

  “Miss Braelyn?” Ollie taps my arm.

  I blink out of my Brance-haze. My eyes flicker to the sweet boy in front of me. I comb through his wet hair. “Sorry about that, buddy. I’d love to help you. We’ll make the biggest castle ever.”

  He hauls over a heaping bucket full of toys. We find the optimal area and get to work. Time passes in a sweaty blur. Ollie’s exuberance keeps me digging long after my biceps feel like pudding.

  With the use of several molds and tools, we have quite an impressive fortress. The castle is taller than my knees and covers several feet of beach. I dust off my hands, stepping back to admire our project.

  “This is quite a fancy castle. I’d totally live here if it wasn’t made of sand.”

  Ollie plops down and points to one of the corners. “This is my room.” He carves a square in the front, making a window. “And you can stay here.” He drags a finger to the indent next to his.

  I tap my chin. “What about your dad? Where will he sleep?”

  “Right there.” His thumb jabs at the space allotted for me.

  I want to pout about being displaced so easily. “But that’s my room.”

  “So? You can share.”

  I make it a point to scan the expanse of our sand creation. There’s plenty of other options, make-believe or not. I wrack my brain for a viable reason why this living situation wouldn’t work. A different solution is on the tip of my tongue.

  Ollie bulldozes through my silence. “Daddy always says it’s nice to share. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  Brance chooses this exact moment to appear. He sits down next to Ollie, inspecting our castle turned family home. He glances at his son. “What do I tell you?”

  “We should always share. That’s why you and Miss Braelyn are in the same room.” Ollie motions to our assigned plot.

  “Is that so?” Brance’s searing stare is fixed on me. Those ocean blue waves are liable to pull me under at any second. The afternoon sun is suddenly too hot. Maybe I need some shade.

  Ollie isn’t aware of the combustible chemistry moments away from boiling over. Or he’s cho
osing to ignore it. “Uh-huh. We’ll have so much fun. Miss Braelyn can come to our house for dinner. She’ll sleep over and stay so we can eat breakfast together in the morning.”

  I’m certain a concave dent is marring my forehead. This kid has it all sorted out. “Um, well, I already have my own place. That’s where all my stuff is.”

  Ollie looks to his dad for backup. Brance scratches the nape of his neck. I scrub my clammy palms on a nearby towel. Who’s going to crack? My money is on me.

  Brance clears his throat. “How about we start with just dinner?”

  I let my mouth hang open. This must be a straight violation against our code of conduct. I’m frozen in contemplation, my gaze jumping from Ollie to Brance.

  “Can you eat at our house, Miss Braelyn?” Ollie’s little hands are clasped together.

  My heart squeezes painfully. “Sure,” I wheeze.

  Ollie bounces to his feet. “Great! My daddy will cook something super-yummy.”

  My eyes fling up to meet Brance’s waiting stare. “You’re gonna make dinner?”

  His lips kick up in a half-smile. “Should I be offended by your tone?”

  I rein in my shock and smooth the tension from my features. “Um, no?”

  “Who’d you think prepares the meals at our house?”

  “Mary?” I bury my toes in the sand, wishing they were my head.

  Brance snorts out an exhale. “Thanks for that. But due to mommy dearest being the worst, I was self-sufficient at age eight. I have an extensive collection of recipes. Which is helpful since Ollie gets bored easily.”

  My brain is trying to pick apart this new revelation. What a strange day this is turning out to be. I rub my throbbing temples. “Well, okay. I guess that sounds good. Are you thinking sometime this week?”

  “Why not tonight?”

  I think my jaw is still slack and gaping open. The surprise didn’t have a chance to ebb yet. “W-what?”

  Brance strokes his stubbled chin. “I can whip something up quick. No hassle or fuss. I’ll think of something easy and delicious.”

  Ollie whispers something in his father’s ear. Brance nods while looking at me. “I bet she’ll love that,” he murmurs.

  Ollie is smiling wider than I’ve ever seen. “Come over at six, ‘kay?”

  Considering we’ve been at the beach for hours, that might be right around the corner. But what difference does it make? The odds of me not showing up are super slim. Stalling will get me nowhere fast. My stomach grumbles, giving away how I really feel on the matter. I laugh and pat my belly.

  The Stone men wear matching expressions of impatience. There’s no hint of humor in their taut postures. Ollie appears ready to leap at me, being held off by a fraying string. Brance’s frown grows more intense. I swallow another giggle and put them out of their misery.

  “I’ll show up hungry.”

  Brance

  Butter

  I set an overflowing casserole dish on the middle rack. A small pan of extra tater tots goes in next. I close the oven with a quick lift of my wrist. After setting the timer, I turn to my son. He’s humming a happy tune while coloring. His legs swing back and forth from his spot at the high-top counter. I move closer to get a better look. My stomach tightens almost painfully. A vibrant rainbow decorates his page.

  Ollie looks up, his baby blues glittering. “Is Miss Braelyn coming soon?”

  The question distracts me from the subject of his artwork. I check the clock on the stove. “About fifteen more minutes.”

  His face screws up a bit, wheels turning quickly. I’m sure he’s trying to calculate that length of time in his terms. “Can I go play in my room until she gets here?”

  “Of course, buddy.”

  He hops off the stool, pushing his picture toward me. “I made this for Miss Braelyn. Maybe she’ll stick it on her fridge. Or hang it up at Thicket.”

  “I’m sure she’ll love it, little man.” And I know she will. That woman has the softest spot set aside for my son. If he wasn’t mine, I’d be jealous of the smothering attention she dishes out to him.

  “I’m really excited for dinner. Are you, daddy?” He blinks those wide eyes at me.

  There’s only one answer to give without crushing his dreams. “Of course, Ollie. I love eating with you.”

  “And Miss Braelyn,” he adds.

  I don’t bother confirming or denying that. Am I encouraging him by agreeing to have her over for dinner? Maybe. Was it a terrible decision to indulge his meal idea? Probably. Will this make things more complicated? Absolutely. Did that stop me? Not at all.

  With a parting grin, Ollie dashes out of the kitchen. I grab plates and silverware, three of each. The odd number doesn’t register as a snag in my routine. If I allow myself to be honest, the sight of an extra place setting feeds that starving piece of my heart. Braelyn is doing one hell of a job restoring strength in the most desolate parts of that beating organ. And I’ve decided to stop fighting against what feels good.

  A tentative knock breaks into the soft music I have going. I stride to the entryway and swing the door open. Braelyn is waiting there, a pillar of bright light against the darkening sky. Everything else fades into a blur. She’s all I see, a vision meant to carry me through the hardest of times. This woman manages to strike deeper with every glimpse.

  “Hi, you.” Her easy smile threatens to steal my breath.

  I force my features to remain stoic. “Hey, Brae.”

  She holds up a package of Ollie’s favorite grape flavor. “I brought juice boxes. And the adult version for us.” She turns the box in her left hand, exposing the wine label.

  A chuckle barks out of me. “You’re too damn thoughtful.”

  Braelyn shrugs. “Couldn’t show up with nothing.”

  I take the beverages off her hands. “Thanks for this. Ollie will appreciate the extra treat. Especially from you.”

  She chomps on her bottom lip, still hovering in the doorway. “I’m a bit early.”

  “Couldn’t wait any longer?”

  The grin I get in return is a reward for my cock. That sweet mouth will be wrapped around me later.

  “Something like that,” she murmurs.

  I pivot to let her by. Braelyn steps inside, her gaze dissecting every nook and cranny. Her eyes sweep across the walls and vaulted ceilings. I notice the moment she catches sight of the floor-to-ceiling windows in front of the dining table. She peeks in the living room next to us, pausing on a few framed candid shots of Ollie. I can’t stop the feeling that my life is on display. But I don’t mind her taking a better look, peeling back my layers. Seems fitting since I’ve had the chance to view most of hers.

  Braelyn is in my space, the sanctuary very few have the privilege of seeing. I wonder what she thinks. Does she feel the current changing? Women aren’t invited over here, as in ever. With the exception of Mary and a few random babysitters, our home is male dominated.

  Until now.

  I watch her study my house, willing those mossy pools to land on me again. I almost crave her rapt focus. When Braelyn lifts those soulful depths to me, another piece slides into place. She’s wearing a different outfit, and her hair is down in loose waves. It’s probably best that she ditched the skimpy bikini. I got the chance to peel those strings off her earlier. If I knew those scraps of fabric were still hidden underneath, getting through dinner would be even harder. The massive pun is absolutely intended. The semi tightening my jeans agrees.

  Braelyn spins in a slow circle, taking another look around. She takes an audible sniff of the air. “It smells delicious. Whatcha making?”

  “That’s a surprise.”

  She walks toward the kitchen. The boxes in my grip get tossed to the side. I cinch my arms around her waist from behind and press us together. Her ass cradles my hardening dick.

  “Maybe I’ll eat you first,” I growl in her ear.

  “Didn’t you get enough on the lake?”

  “Not nearly.”

  Sh
e leans into me, her temple brushing my mouth. “Who’s gonna watch Ollie?”

  Sadie and Jordan agreed to take Ollie for ice cream earlier. That gave me another stolen slice of time with this woman. We rented a paddleboat and found a hidden alcove. She wasn’t lying about the swimsuit Sadie bought her. If she ever wore that when I wasn’t around, we’d have a serious problem.

  “He’s upstairs building a Lego fortress. That usually keeps him occupied for hours.”

  Braelyn purrs. “Do you have a large pantry?”

  “I sure do.” I bump her forward in the right direction.

  But, of course, nothing is that simple.

  As if sensing her presence, my son comes bounding down the steps. He flies full speed at Braelyn’s legs. The collision is harsh and probably would’ve knocked her over if I hadn’t been here.

  I bite back a groan, stepping away from the comfort of her body. The image of her spread thighs vanishes in a flash. “Great timing, Ollie. Dinner should be ready.”

  “It’s gonna be so good. I can’t wait for you to try my daddy’s specialty. Are you excited, Miss Braelyn?” My son babbles all that on a single breath.

  Her nod is eager. “Oh, yes. I can’t wait to find out what he made for us.”

  “Let’s go sit down.” He steals Braelyn’s hand and drags her toward the table.

  I grab the discarded drinks and follow them into the kitchen. “Ollie, guess what?”

  He whips around to face me. Like a sniper, his gaze zeroes in on what I’m holding. “Juice boxes? No way!”

  “Braelyn brought them for you.”

  Ollie beams at her. “How’d you know those are my favorite?”

  That earns him a smile in return. “Lucky guess.”

  “Daddy, can I have one with dinner? Or maybe two?”

  I chuckle and rip off the plastic wrapping. “Start with one. We’ll see about more.”

  He takes the pouch from me. “Can Miss Braelyn have one?”

  She giggles. “Those are especially for you, sweetie.”

  I wink at her. “We have our own juice.”

  He shrugs. “More for me.”

  “Ollie, can you finish setting the plates?” I point to the short stack on my way to the oven.