by Kelsie Rae
As we make our way to the front door, I catch Derrick fidgeting with his pants before twisting his wristwatch slightly.
“You nervous?” I ask, smiling softly. I find his nervous energy adorable, and oddly refreshing. The guy always seems to be so well put together.
“No. I just,” he pauses, “I haven’t met the family in a long time. And this feels a little rushed.” His tone is choked, like he’s having a mini-meltdown over waffles.
I grab his hand, pulling him toward the side yard and away from view of the front porch in case one of my brothers is snooping.
“Dude. You do not need to be nervous. We’re not even dating, remember? You seriously have no reason to stress right now. We’re just friends having a casual breakfast in the company of a few random strangers,” I say, pausing to reconsider my words. “Well, strangers to you,” I clarify teasingly.
He quirks his brow at my comment. “Do you often bring friends over to Sunday brunch?”
Placing my lips between my teeth, I debate how honest I should be with him.
“Technically?”
He stares me down.
“Fine. No, I don’t usually bring people along. But that’s not because I think it’s some rite of passage or anything. I just don’t have a ton of close friends. Not that we’re close anyway, but I thought, Who doesn’t like waffles? And so I invited you.” Shrugging, I continue. “And they’re not going to be weird or anything. Or at least not any weirder than me, so you should be good to go,” I add, jokingly. “I texted my mom already. She knows you’re coming, and it would be rude to back out.” The last sentence is totally a lie, but now that he’s here, I don’t really want him leaving.
I’m kind of getting attached to the big butthead.
Smacking his ass playfully and jumping away from his long reach I add, “Now suck it up, Buttercup! Time to go meet the in-laws!”
Derrick groans, lifting his face to the sunny sky. I’m pretty sure I overhear him mumbling a prayer for patience, but I don’t stop to clarify.
He’ll just have to get used to me.
Skipping back to the porch, I open the door and yell down the hallway toward the kitchen, “Hey mom! I brought company! Hope you made enough food for Goliath!”
Before my mom can reply, I close the door and lean against it with my arms folded. I pretend to check my non-existent watch while waiting for a mopey Derrick to come around the corner of my parents’ house. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks hesitant. Cautious. From the looks of him, you’d think he is heading to the slaughterhouse instead of getting free, homemade waffles.
The big baby.
“Come on Eeyore, they’re going to love you!” Placing my hand on the door handle, I start to twist the knob when Derrick’s large hand encompasses my own.
I pause, looking up at him and waiting for an explanation as to why we’re waiting out here when we could be carb-loading.
“I like you Bree,” he whispers softly. His expression sincere.
Quirking my brow and tilting my head in confusion I ask, “And that’s a bad thing?”
“If you were just a friend, this wouldn’t be a big deal. I’d go in there, woo your family, eat some food, and be on my merry way. But I like you. And that scares the ever-loving shit out of me.” Suddenly, my mouth feels like it is stuffed with a handful of cotton, and I find myself in desperate need of a glass of water.
Blinking up at him, I’m at a total loss for words. If I wasn’t gripping the door handle so firmly, I’d be a puddle at this man’s feet.
After a few precious seconds spent standing with our eyes locked, I find my voice.
“Why are you telling me this right now?” I whisper.
“Because I want you to know that this is new territory for me. I’m not saying we’re in a relationship or anything. Hell, I haven’t even kissed you yet. I’m just saying that I like you. And I might move at a snail’s pace, but you’ve somehow managed to get my stubborn ass to move forward anyway.”
His remark causes my lips to lift into a soft smile. “You said, ‘yet.’”
Now it’s Derrick’s turn to look confused. “Huh?”
“You said you haven’t kissed me... yet.” I grin, the muscles in my cheeks pinching from smiling so hard.
Chuckling, Derrick grips my chin with his calloused fingers, lifting my face toward his own. “Would you like me to rectify that right now?” he whispers, a teasing smile painted on his stupidly handsome face.
Never one to back down from a challenge, let alone an excellent suggestion like this one, I murmur, “Hell yes,” as Derrick inches closer. Standing on my tiptoes, my lips are a breath away from finally kissing the guy of my dreams. I refuse to close the last inch, waiting for Derrick to make the final leap. I’m almost convinced he’s going to pull away when he leans in, breaching the gap and brushing his lips against mine softly, tenderly. It’s as innocent as a butterfly kiss, but is laced with promises of a much stronger connection. I begin to wonder if he’s afraid I might break with how carefully he’s handling me, until Derrick’s lips pull into a teasing grin, confirming my suspicion that he’s toying with me. In response, the tip of my tongue slips between his lips, causing an immediate groan from deep in Derrick’s throat, and goosebumps to race across my skin.
Game. On.
Almost instantly, he grips my hand that’s still on the door handle and wraps it around his neck before slamming my back against the front door and plastering the front of his body to my own. He deepens the kiss, taking full advantage of our close proximity.
Holy shit, he’s a good kisser.
My brain short circuits when he pulls my hips more fully into his own and uses his massive frame to bend me backwards slightly. His movement puts me exactly where he wants me, making me feel like a puppet with him pulling all the strings. If I don’t come up for air soon, I’m going to pass out, but it’ll totally be worth it. His hands slip further down, cupping my ass, when there’s a loud honk from the driveway. Derrick jumps back as if he’s being electrocuted, and I turn to the perpetrator, pure rage written all over my face. I’m about to flip out on whoever interrupted my amazing first kiss with my freaking boss.
Low and behold, it’s my brother, his wife, and my favorite nephew.
Leo’s also my only nephew, but that’s beside the point.
“You jack ace!” I yell, filtering my language because of the baby ears in the vicinity. “You just interrupted our first kiss! I was finally getting some action from this guy!” I point at Derrick’s chest. “And you ruined it! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this Butthead to make a move? And the moment he finally does, what do you do? You freaking honk!” I may be yelling, but my tone is pretty sarcastic. Luke doesn’t even bat an eye at my lecture. He simply continues unbuckling Leo from his carseat, a smile plastered to his face. He’s proud of himself for totally screwing me over!
Bastard.
You would think that my screaming would cause a scene, but most of my neighbors have known me for years, so they’re used to my slightly insane behavior.
Liv also ignores my little outburst, walking up to Derrick and shaking his hand politely.
“Hi. I’m Liv, Breezy’s sister-in-law. That guy over there,” she points to Luke, “is my husband who thoroughly enjoyed breaking up your little make-out session. And this,” she grabs Leo from Luke and places him on her hip, “is my Little Man, Leo.” She gives him a big wet kiss on his chubby little cheeks.
“I assume you’re the boss? Or are you the British guy? I haven’t heard you say a word yet, so I can’t tell if you have an accent or not.”
I love that she’s trying to make him feel comfortable, and I can tell it works by how quickly his posture relaxes. “I’m Derrick, Bree’s boss,” he introduces himself. I nudge him playfully, hoping he’ll give a few more details. “And her friend,” he adds.
Rolling my eyes, I add, “Meh, we’re not big on labels.” I stick my tongue out at Derrick playfully before
yanking the door open and heading inside.
On the right hand side a stairway leads up to three bedrooms, a bathroom, and a master suite. On the left is a hallway that takes you to the family and dining area, as well as the kitchen.
Sauntering into the kitchen with Derrick trailing behind, I grab a thick piece of peppered bacon that looks hot off the griddle. My mom is standing in front of the sink dicing strawberries and placing them in a small glass bowl, not bothering to see who has walked into the room.
“Morning, Breezy!” she calls over her shoulder while staying focused on her current task. How she knew it was me, I’ll never know.
As soon as she hears Leo’s garbled baby voice she immediately sets down the knife and practically pounces on the little guy. “My baby!” she squeals excitedly. “Oh, how I’ve missed you Sweetheart! Grammy wants you to stay for a sleepover, so she can spoil you like crazy!”
My mom smothers Leo in big noisy kisses while Leo’s laughter echoes through the well-sized kitchen.
Mom had it redecorated a few years ago, replacing our Formica countertops with swirling granite and refinishing the cabinets to a gorgeous off-white color. The walls throughout are painted a warm gray, and beautiful mahogany hardwood floors cover the ground.
The woman has excellent taste.
Finally pulling her focus from her favorite (and only) grandbaby, my mom notices we have a guest this morning. I have no idea how she managed to miss the giant Viking in the room, but apparently, Grandmas have laser focus when it comes to their grandkids.
“Hi.” She smiles warmly. “Breezy, want to introduce me to your friend?” She looks at me pointedly.
“Well I was going to, but you got a little distracted by my nephew over there,” I reply cheekily, pointing to Leo who’s busy slobbering all over his tiny fist.
Rolling her eyes, she grabs the hand towel hanging over her shoulder and whips it at my thigh playfully.
“Hey now, were you raised in a barn? Where are those manners?”
Laughing, I make the proper introductions. “Derrick, this is my mom, Sarah. Mom, this is my friend and boss,” I smirk, “Derrick. FYI, we are not in a relationship, and he’s made it very clear I have cooties.”
Or at least he had made it clear before his little declaration on the porch. Just thinking about it makes my inner girl squeal.
He likes me!
“Who has cooties?” my dad pipes in before shaking Derrick’s hand.
“Didn’t look like he minded your cooties much when we drove up!” Luke adds sarcastically before I can answer my dad’s question.
Glaring daggers in Luke’s direction, I grab the towel from Mom and whip it at his arm. “Shut up, Jackass!”
My mom gasps, “Language, Bree!” while covering Leo’s ears, as he remains oblivious to the chaos around him and continues to suck on his fingers.
Cracking up, I reply, “You have met his dad, right? I’ll be surprised if his first word isn’t shit.”
Luke smirks at me, appreciating my sense of humor, until Liv elbows him in the ribs. “Luke! We’ve talked about that!” she reprimands kindly while smiling up at him.
Loving our playful banter, I’m about to make another smartass comment when I catch Derrick’s gaze. He’s leaning against the doorjamb that leads to the hallway with his arms casually folded across his broad chest, and a soft grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. His little dimple playing peek-a-boo with my racing heart.
I return his smile with one of my own, forgetting whatever I was about to say. Instead, I walk over to Derrick and stand on my tiptoes. I move slowly. Cautiously. Giving him plenty of time to react, even though we totally just made out ten minutes ago.
Due to our height difference, in order for my completely impulsive move to work, Derrick needs to lean down. Shockingly, he does exactly that, bending his head closer to mine. I brush my pink lips against his softly, slowly taking a little taste of what I’ve been craving since the moment I first saw him.
Our kiss is far more innocent than I’d prefer, and likely a hell of a lot more risqué than my family would like to witness, but it’s like I can’t control my body anymore. Ever since I finally had a taste of him on the porch, my body can’t get enough.
Pulling away slightly, I stay on my tiptoes, grasping his neck for balance before whispering in his ear, my lips brushing against his warm skin, “Sorry, you had a little toothpaste.” I wink before slowly sliding down his torso, until my feet are firmly back on the hardwood floors.
I turn around, clapping my hands and effectively scattering any lingering lust between Derrick and me.
“Ok, people! The day’s a wastin’! Let’s eat!”
18
Derrick
Bree is busy laughing at something her brother said while loading her plate with a golden Belgian waffle, whipped cream, and fresh strawberries. She grabs two slices of bacon, shoving one in her mouth before grabbing another enthusiastically.
Apparently, my girl likes bacon.
My girl?
I shake my head slightly, hoping to get a better handle on my conflicting feelings. Did Bree really just kiss me in front of her family?
She’s a ballsy one, that’s for sure.
I have to hand it to her, she executed her plan perfectly. She gave me plenty of time to back off while looking sexy as hell as she sauntered over to me, her body dripping with confidence. I would’ve been stupid not to take advantage.
I hadn’t planned on my Sunday consisting of kissing Breezy then having brunch with her family, but I guess I need to start expecting the unexpected when it comes to that girl. She has a way of turning my world upside down. I’m pretty sure if she was any other woman, I’d find it frustrating. But with her, I look forward to her nuttiness. Being around Bree reminds me of riding a roller coaster, as the adrenaline pounds through my veins, and I feel completely out of my element. All I can do is hang on and enjoy the ride.
And enjoy the ride, I do.
After having sampled her on the porch earlier and being given only the smallest of tastes, I’m now craving her like an addict would his newest addiction. And that sexy as hell kiss in the kitchen? That girl does something to me.
I can hardly concentrate on grabbing the ceramic plate in front of me, my hands shaking slightly as I fill it with all of the delicious food, trying to focus on the task at hand.
I guess I’ll be running a few extra miles this evening after our feast.
Making my way to the dining table, I take the empty seat next to Bree. She’s digging into her breakfast like she hasn’t eaten in weeks. In reality, I saw her throw down three slices of pizza, four breadsticks, and half the dessert pizza with ease last night.
I grin at the crazy girl in front of me, her tongue sneaking out to lick some excess whipped cream off her bottom lip. Swallowing thickly, my eyes zero in on the motion before remembering I’m sitting in her parents’ house on a Sunday morning, and I need to get my shit together.
Down boy.
My mouth waters as I cut a large bite of waffle smothered in whipped cream and berries. As soon as the food touches my taste buds, my mind is blown.
The food is phenomenal.
I try to remember my manners, swallowing the decadent morsel before addressing Sarah. “Where in the hell did you get this recipe?” I ask, as Bree elbows me in the ribs. “Language!” she teases, pretending to be offended.
I grimace then apologize profusely. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Jensen.” I turn to Liv. “You too, Liv.”
Bree giggles beside me, finding my embarrassment way too amusing. She stabs a strawberry from my plate, shoving it in her mouth. “I’m totally teasing, Derrick. I swear my family isn’t that anal. Stop stressing.” She leans into my side affectionately. Her touch instantly soothing my frazzled nerves.
“I’m offended,” Luke jests, grabbing my attention just in time for me to see Sarah smack him behind the head. “Shut up, Luke. Stop making Derrick uncomfortable.” She smiles at me reassur
ingly. “Now as for my recipe, it’s an old family secret. But, if you ever decide to marry Bree, I’ll be happy to hand it right over.” I nearly choke on my bacon. Bree smacks my back forcefully to help me clear my throat.
“Mom!” Bree squeaks. “Talk about making Derrick uncomfortable! We’re not even dating!”
Sarah scoffs. “I just saw you two making out in my kitchen. You can’t say you’re not dating when you’re caught liplocking!”
Bree’s entire face is burning up, the tips of her ears a bright cherry red. “Mom! We were not making out! It was barely even a peck! I’ve been trying to get with the guy for weeks. He didn’t even seem interested this morning when we were in bed. Obviously, I had no choice but to take advantage when I finally got the green light.” By the end of her rambling, her blush is long gone and has been replaced with a confident grin. She winks flirtatiously at me before grabbing a strip of crispy bacon from my plate. She places it between pearly white teeth and takes a bite.
“I’m sorry. Do you mind clarifying what my daughter meant when she said this morning in bed?” Jim emphasizes the word bed, his voice dripping with authority.
Well, shit.
I look over at Bree, silently begging for her to come save me from Papa Bear. I’m greeted with an innocent shrug of her slender shoulders before she leans back in her chair. Clearly, she’s enjoying the interrogation.
The little shit knows she just threw me under the bus and looks quite pleased with herself.
I’m pretty sure I’ve never been in a more awkward situation in my entire life. Clearing my throat, I grab a glass of orange juice in hopes of stalling.
After taking a swig from my cup, I respond in a gruff voice. “Bree’s quite the character, isn’t she?” I laugh awkwardly, my joke failing miserably while Bree’s dad continues to stare daggers at me.
Luke tries to muffle his snickering from behind his hand while Sarah places her palms over Bree’s younger brother’s ears. Liv is merely grinning, her eyes bouncing between Bree, Jim, and me. Obviously, she finds the conversation hilarious.