Keep This Promise

by Willow Winters

  Straightening her back, she presses her lips together. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you really didn’t notice them.”

  “You did then, yet you still goaded me. Why?”

  She shrugs. “Funny.”

  “Wren, eat,” I say as we enter the buffet restaurant.

  Her eyes widen at the shitload of food again. The portion sizes here are, as expected, over the top. Thankfully, I get to choose how much goes on my plate this morning.

  “I actually don’t know where to start,” she mutters, looking at the long table of hot plates, stacked high with cooked food. Another table houses pastries and doughnuts, and another is for fruit and yoghurt.

  I give the server our room numbers, and we’re told to sit wherever we’d like.

  “Brody, there is too much. I’m definitely having a blueberry muffin. Look at the size of it!”

  Luke and Mason aren’t here yet, so I lead Wren to a table because she can only focus on food. I pull a chair out for her.

  “Did you just go all gentlemanly on me?”

  “Just sit the fuck down,” I groan.

  With a dazzling, toothy smile, she sits. There aren’t too many tables big enough for all six of us—at least, none that are free—but there are plenty of fours nearby. We’ll have to split up.

  As if by magic, a hot-as-hell woman, probably around my age, steps to our table, holding two large jugs. “Can I offer you tea or coffee?”

  You can offer me you.

  “Coffee, please,” Wren says immediately, holding her mug up.

  The woman smiles and pours Wren’s coffee; her eyes, though, are mostly on me.

  I smile. “Coffee is great, er…”

  “Ellen,” she says, smiling and tilting her head.

  She pours mine.

  “Babe, we need to go to the chemist. I forgot my pregnancy vitamins.”

  My eyes flick from Ellen to Wren. Are you fucking kidding me?

  Ellen makes her escape, muttering a quick, “Have a great day.”

  Wren’s smile widens in a way I imagine a murderer’s would fresh from the kill.

  I put my mug down and scratch my forehead. I need to breathe before I say something I might—or might not—regret.

  “Wren… what was that?”

  “I’m about to eat. I don’t want to do that with the image of you two eye-fucking each other.”

  “Funny, some people might think that was jealousy.”

  She sips her coffee. “Some people are idiots.”

  Mason and Luke’s arrival cuts through the tension.

  “There’re no bigger tables?” Mase asks.

  “We’re on a date,” Wren replies.

  Luke’s head almost snaps off as he whips his eyes to mine.

  “She’s joking! She’s a regular comedian this morning—and a massive cockblocker,” I reply.

  Mase and Luke stay on their feet.

  “Are we getting food or sitting here?”

  Wren is up in a second flat. “Food. I’m starving. Brody definitely needs some. He has no sense of humour when he’s hungry.”

  Luke makes a joke about a Snickers as we grab a plate and go to town on the buffet.

  After breakfast, Luke, Mason, Wren, and I leave Emma and Felicity, and we head to the lobby. They arrived late because of their hair, which will most definitely get ruined on the balloon. We’re getting a taxi in fifteen minutes, so they had better be ready.

  Mase and Luke stare at their phones as we wait on seats in the lobby.

  “Do you think I’ll be allowed to have a go at driving the balloon?” Wren says, looking up at me with her big cockblocking, sarcastic fucking eyes.

  “Drive?” I grin and shake my head. “No, I don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to put you in charge of a hot air balloon. We’d all die.”

  “You’ve been in a car with me.”

  “I can see where you’re coming from; cars and hot air balloons share many of the same qualities. I’m sure there’s a steering wheel up there, and a clutch. You learned to drive in a manual, right?”

  Her eyes narrow to slits. “You’re a knobhead. And I’m not stupid; I can drive a manual.”

  She just chooses not to because she can’t be bothered to push down with her left foot and move a stick.

  “Can you two quit arguing for two minutes?” Luke says, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Brody, lay off her.”

  Wren smirks as her brother rushes to her defence.

  “I’m not on her,” I quip. Though the thought is very appealing. Not right now. In this moment, I want to strangle her.

  Emma and Felicity find us minutes before the taxi shows up. Emma pre-books everything—half because she’s paranoid about no one knowing where we are, and half because she’s borderline OCD. Everything is planned and documented.

  We arrive at the balloon and are quickly taken through a safety talk. Wren is bouncing, her lips pursed. Felicity looks nervous as hell, and Emma is quietly reserved as she takes in all of the safety information. Mase and Luke have caught the eye of two women coming with us. There is also an elderly couple, thankfully not the same one from the lift.

  Neither of the women Mase and Luke are making eyes at are my type, so they can go ahead. I’ll just be happy if we land safely in an hour.

  We get into the basket, which doesn’t look nearly sturdy enough and creaks beneath my feet, but it can hold more than the eleven people in here, including the guy taking us up, so I figure we’re going to be fine.

  Slowly, we rise up into the sky. It’s hot already. The light breeze makes it bearable.

  “I knew they would be doing that,” Wren says as Emma and Felicity push their hair out of their face.

  “Smug doesn’t suit you.”

  “That’s not how it feels.” She looks away from me, glancing at the bright lights of the Las Vegas strip. It’s cornea-burning bright, even during the day.

  We ascend higher, and the view gets prettier.

  “Now, it looks gorgeous,” Wren says.

  I take a look over my shoulder at Mase and Luke. They’ve split up, taking a girl each and chatting to them as they look out across the desert.

  “They’ll pick up a girl anywhere,” I say, more to myself than anything.

  Wren obviously has to comment. “You nearly took the server from breakfast back to your room.”

  I nudge her arm. “And who stopped that from happening?”

  “We had thirty minutes to eat. If you were done in that time, I did the girl a favour.”

  Little fucker. I lean closer because I don’t want Luke to hear. “There is nothing wrong with a quickie.”

  She shrugs, dropping her chin, and it hits me.

  “You’ve never had a quickie?”

  Her cheeks redden, and she turns away.

  “Wren,” I whisper in her ear, so close I can practically taste her expensive-smelling shampoo. “Are you a virgin?”

  Shaking her head, she takes a deep breath.

  I didn’t think so. She had a relatively serious relationship when she was sixteen, lasting about ten or eleven months.

  “How have you never had a quickie?”

  My heart beats faster at the close proximity. I can feel her body heat, her side pressed against my chest, my head almost touching hers. I’m aware that this doesn’t look innocent, and if Luke takes his attention off his girl, I’ll be busted. Even knowing that, I can’t move.

  “We didn’t have sex until almost the end,” she murmurs.

  I shake my head. “Oh, babe, he was not right for your first. You want someone who will show you everything.”

  There are a lot of images inside my head right now. Her sharp intake of breath is not what I expected. It makes my dick harden.

  Dear God, I’m going to Hell.

  “Brody.” Her voice is low and ragged, and I almost groan at the erotic sound of it.

  Jesus. She is beautiful.

  “I need to step back,” I tell her like a fucking idiot.r />
  She looks up, and I’m trapped in deep blue eyes that were sent from the Devil himself.

  My body is desperate to close the tiny distance and taste her. I want to dip my head and take her mouth. Her gaze searches mine with a thousand questions. The first one probably is, Why haven’t you moved yet?

  Pressing her lips together, Wren moves one tiny step to the side in the basket.

  The distance is enough to clear the very naked thoughts from my mind, but I know it’s only temporary. I’ll definitely be dreaming about the feel of her body against mine and that damn little breath that almost brought me to my knees.

  Our guide points out a few landmarks as we gently glide through the sky with the warm breeze in our faces. I think only Felicity and Emma are paying attention. The guide is older—probably not as old as my parents—and good-looking, which is likely why he holds their attention.

  Nothing but blonde hair and crystal-blue eyes are holding mine.

  Wren’s hair is tied up, leaving her neck exposed.

  Jesus, man, stop looking at her like that.

  I grew up with Wren. How can I be having these thoughts about her now?

  Because she’s not a kid anymore.

  She’s a woman. A stunning one at that. When did that happen? How could I not have noticed how effortlessly beautiful she is before now?

  I’m screwed because there is no one else in this world I would rather be up here with right now.

  “Your brother is a quick worker,” Wren says as Mase has his face all over … whoever she is.

  I snort. “Always has been.”

  “And our sisters are about one hair flick away from embarrassing themselves. The dude is not interested.”

  I don’t even want to look at Felicity while she’s flirting.

  “You enjoying this?” I ask her.

  She looks up at the bright blue sky and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s pretty amazing.”

  “So, hot air balloons are okay, but planes aren’t?”

  Rolling her head towards me, she glares. “Don’t start. They’re not the same.”

  I chuckle. We’d still fall out of the sky, but okay.

  We land back on the ground, and our guide—cannot remember his name—lets us out. Mase takes care of the tip, and we walk back to meet a taxi.

  Wren walks ahead with Emma, and fuck, I can’t keep my eyes off of her.

  I need to sort this out. I’m sexually frustrated, and I missed out on sex yesterday.

  Back at the hotel, we change into swimwear and hit the pool. Mase, Luke, and I are going to a casino for a while this afternoon while the girls go to the spa, and then we’re all meeting for dinner.

  After that, I’m crashing Wren’s movie night, so she doesn’t leave and meet some dickhead.

  The thought of missing a night out angered me this morning. Now, I would rather be watching TV with her… on her bed.

  I shake off the X-rated thoughts, which include her on my lap, and head to the pool bar in the suffocating heat to order a beer for everyone—mocktail for Wren.

  I spot her immediately, vaguely aware of my sister and Emma beside her. She’s wearing a hot-pink bikini and carrying a towel and her phone.

  Jesus.

  Mase lies back on a deck chair where they’ve saved six. He laughs at something Luke said.

  Wren stops beside me, and the other two walk on to sit down.

  “Need a hand?” she asks.

  I would love her hand.

  Forcing a smile, I reply, “Sure.”

  We carry the drinks to the one little table between two seats and hand them out.

  “I’m going to get an awesome tan,” Wren says, sipping her pink mocktail through a bright green straw.

  Her comment draws my eyes to her legs. I follow them from her feet to the slight curve of her hips.

  Look away.

  I take a swig of beer. My throat still feels drier than the desert outside the hotel. Felicity raises her eyebrow when I catch her eye.

  Glaring, I turn away from them and join Luke and Mase’s conversation.

  I’m not going there.

  Chapter 10

  Brody

  I lost four hundred dollars in the casino and called it quits.

  The boys and I went to a club after dinner, and Felicity and Emma parted ways to spend the evening in a cocktail bar.

  The music booms through the club, strobe lighting flashing every few seconds. Mase is dancing with a girl and Luke has retreated to the bar after striking out.

  I watch him order and know this is my time. I had only ever planned on staying for a few minutes, long enough for them to get distracted. Mase will ask questions, Luke won’t. I stride over and slap him on the back. “I’m heading to the hotel, got a girl waiting,” I tell him.

  He looks over his shoulder and grins. “Wrap up, buddy.”

  “Catch you tomorrow, Luke.”

  Looking back at the bar as a stunning bartender smiles at him, he lifts his hand over his shoulder in lieu of a bye.

  He’s now busy, too, so neither of them will even attempt to contact me.

  I leave the club and head into the warm Vegas evening. The strip is alive with people dancing and chatting in the street. Women wearing belts and not much else.

  The hotel is heaving with people, some coming in and out of casinos, and others, bars. I take the lift and go straight to my room.

  This is ridiculous.

  When I get inside, I sit on my bed with my phone in my hand, ready to text Wren and tell her to come to me. No one knows I left to spend time with her and keep an eye on her, so I don’t particularly want Emma or Felicity to come back and find us in their room.

  Blowing out a breath of major doubt and total fucking confusion, I text.

  Brody: I have Texas Chain Saw Massacre on. Coming?

  Her reply comes quickly.

  Wren: You’re back at the hotel?

  Brody: Yeah.

  I watch my phone, waiting. Two minutes tick by, and I’m about to call her when she raps on the door. Thump, thump, thump. Unapologetically loud and impatient.

  Dropping my phone on the bed, I stand up and take a breath. This feels like something. Something big maybe. I don’t know.

  In reality, it’s nothing. I’ve watched a movie with Wren before. It’s not like we’ve never been alone together. But we’ve not often been alone.

  Another thud hits the door with a deep bang.

  Fucking girl.

  I grab the handle and tug the door open. “Where’s the fire, Wren?”

  She smirks. “How long does it take you to get from the bed to the door?”

  Standing to the side, I let her in.

  Walking straight to my bed, she flops down and lays her head on my pillow. She did it so casually, as if it’s nothing. She’s never been on my bed before. Seeing her there has my heart racing and my dick rock solid in a nanosecond.

  What is happening to me?

  “We’re ordering room service, right? Brody?”

  I grab the menu from the table. “Yeah.” Slinging it at her, I sit on the bed, at the edge, as far from her as I can get. I clear my throat.

  “Brody,” she sings, dragging out the ee sound, clearly wanting something.

  “Go on.”

  “I need a drink.”

  Can I spend another evening drinking with her… alone?

  She rolls onto her side, which makes her breasts look amazing. I breathe deep through my nostrils.

  “Please?”

  Honestly, with her big eyes looking up at me and her killer cleavage on show, I’m sure I’d give her anything she wants.

  “Luke cannot know,” I warn.

  Her lips spread in a grin that lights up her whole face.

  “I remember. Let’s drink!”

  We do. We clear the mini bar.

  Tilting her head back, she laughs and slaps my chest. The earlier distance is gone. We’re sitting on my bed, her side pressed firmly against mine. It�
�s amazing what a few tiny bottles of booze, beer, and two hours can do.

  She’s drunk. I’m drunk. And I’ve never felt so comfortable before.

  “Can we go out, please? Back to that bar we were at yesterday?” She presses her lips together and smiles, fluttering her eyelashes.

  Really?

  “Erm, fine, but try to act normal.”

  We get up off the bed and my body sways. I laugh and place my palm on the wall to steady myself.

  Rolling those eyes, she pulls on my arm, and I almost fall again.

  “To the bar!”

  “Wren, walk. You look drunk.”

  She turns, her mouth falling open. “I’m merry.”

  “That’s what drunk people say.”

  “You’re being very negative. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

  I lift my brow. “I should be in a casino with a chick hanging off my arm.”

  “They only care when you’re winning, you know.”

  “And you care even when I’m losing?”

  A bubble of laughter erupts from her. “No. I only care when you’re taking me to bars.”

  I asked for that one.

  I lead her to our bar just off the strip with her gripping my arm so tightly, she’s probably cutting off the blood flow.

  “Here we are,” I say, shoving the door open.

  She grins up at me. “Yay. I love it here.”

  Breaking out a heart-stopping smile, she spins, making that dress rise up, and walks into the bar like she owns it.

  The key to any lie is in your conviction.

  Don’t ID me because I’m supposed to be here.

  On a sigh, I follow her in.

  I’m a classy guy, bringing her here a second time.

  The room is dark with dimly lit green lights. Two pool tables are off to the side, and there’s a heavily stained oak bar running along the back. It smells like cheap beer, and my feet stick to the floor as I walk.

  “You’re not getting wasted,” I tell her. I don’t mind taking her for a couple, but I’m not carrying her arse anywhere.

  Leaning forward, her body presses against mine. The little white sun dress that skims her upper thighs could be off in seconds.

  Fucking hell!

  “Wren,” I warn.

  I don’t know what she’s doing, and I don’t think she does either, but we’ve never been this close before. I’ve never felt her breasts pushing against my chest. My heart thuds against my rib cage.