Shameless

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Shameless Page 10

by Lex Martin


  After our second piece, she licks her lips and sighs. “How is it that Pizza Hut is this good? If I were on a deserted island and could only pick one food for all of eternity, it would be this mushroom pepperoni pizza.”

  “Hey, there’s an idea. Maybe I can pay you in pizza.” I chuckle as I shovel in another bite, but when I glance at Kat, she’s frowning.

  “Brady, I feel bad taking your money. I love Izzy like she’s my own, and I’m happy to help as long as you need me. Please don’t feel like—”

  “Katherine, stop. I’m paying you. In fact, I just transferred over some money yesterday so I can write you a check.” I wipe my hand on a napkin and do my best to glare, but her pouty lips are making it difficult. “I’m serious. You can’t go around doing everything for free.”

  She nods like I’ve scolded her, and now I feel like an ass.

  I soften my voice, wanting her to know I’m in her corner. “I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of your kindness, so please tell me that diner pays you.”

  Her cheeks, which are already flushed from the alcohol, turn a deeper shade of red. “Yes, they do.”

  Obviously, this girl needs the money or she wouldn’t be waiting tables. Not that there’s anything wrong with waiting tables, but she’s capable of so much more. Which makes me realize how little I know about her.

  “So, your family is in Corpus? Is that where you went to school?”

  “Yeah, I went to high school in Corpus. Was more or less homeschooled before that because we moved so much. Ended up at Texas A&M for my undergrad.”

  “So you’re an Aggie?” I shake my head at her like I’m disappointed.

  She smacks my shoulder playfully. “Hey, don’t make fun. I know UT is cooler, but my dad would rather get dipped in hot tar than let his daughter go to a liberal school in Austin.”

  “Are you conservative too?”

  Her eyebrows knit together and she shakes her head. “God, no. I’m sure I would’ve preferred attending UT. I got a full ride to both schools, but I went to A&M because I didn’t want to let my dad down.” She sighs. “I know that sounds lame.”

  “Full ride, huh?” I’m not surprised with the way she runs things around here. She’s a powerhouse. She reminds me of a little hummingbird, the way she never stops working.

  “Yes, that’s how my nerdiness through high school was rewarded.”

  “You? A nerd? I find that hard to believe.” Especially in that dress. I fight to not glance down at her bare thigh that’s peeking through the slit in the front.

  “I’m sure this is gonna sound strange, but it was tough to finally settle down and go to an actual school. I was so used to studying when we were on the road. Reading under a big oak tree or in a field of cotton with the wind blowing in my face.”

  I smile at her Southern accent and the way studying and reading sound like studyin’ and readin’.

  “A lot of kids in situations like mine miss school and end up dropping out later, but my dad was on my butt every day. He’d get assignments from my aunt. She’s a teacher. So yeah, when I finally went to high school, I was a bona fide nerd, complete with glasses and a mouth full of metal.”

  I chuckle as I pour another shot. “Braces aren’t so bad. I had a retainer in high school. Great for my teeth. Bad for making out with cheerleaders.”

  “Cheerleaders, huh? You and I ran in different stratospheres then. But I’m not surprised you dated cheerleaders. You probably still do.”

  I wait until she looks up at me. “Cheerleaders are overrated.”

  She stares at me a moment before a smile spreads on her face. And then she laughs. “I have a t-shirt that says, Nerds Do It Better.”

  “I bet.” And maybe it’s the alcohol that’s letting me take a few liberties, but I give in to the urge I’ve had all day and let my eyes wander over her body. “I’d like to test that theory sometime,” I mumble under my breath.

  The blanket has fallen off her shoulders, and she’s sitting with her legs tucked under her while she sports that little nineteen fifties-style dress that makes my pulse kick up. Which is surprising because it’s modest. Demure even. But fuck, all I can think about is the way those buttons lead between those lush breasts, and I can’t help but wonder how she'd feel in my hands.

  When my eyes lift to hers, I see the same longing reflected back at me.

  We’re sitting side by side on this huge couch. It would be so easy to lean forward and delve between those luscious pink lips.

  Warning bells go off in my head.

  This is wrong. I’m leaving soon. I have a shitload of responsibility that makes having a relationship right now impossible. Izzy. My parents. A farm house. A failing business in Boston. And I doubt Kat is the kind of girl to hook up.

  But between the emotional day we’ve had and the alcohol numbing my brain, I can’t deny how much I want to strip her of that dress and lose myself in her body.

  We stare at each other, and it’s all I can do to not reach for her. But then a thunderbolt shatters the silence, and we both jerk back.

  I’m not one for believing in signs, but if ever there was one that screamed, Don’t be a fucking idiot, that was it.

  I laugh nervously and find a reason to take a breather. “Be back in a sec. Nature’s calling.”

  20

  Katherine

  My heart is racing the whole time he’s gone. The way Brady was looking at me, like he wanted nothing more than to yank me into his lap and have his way with me, made my body spark to life. Even now that he’s stepped away, I want to chase after him.

  Ugh. Pathetic.

  I take a deep breath and my eyes drop down to the half-empty bottle of tequila.

  Not good. We’re both buzzed, really buzzed, and strung out from today. A flash of skin catches my attention, and I realize my thigh is on full display.

  Oh, for heaven’s sakes. No wonder he wants to jump your bones. You're half-naked.

  I pull the fabric over my legs and yank the blanket over me as he strolls back in. He glances at the TV and then back at me.

  “What should we watch?”

  He flips through the channels, and we debate different movies. I want a John Hughes film, and he wants Die Hard or Terminator. I shake my head. Men.

  He tosses the remote next to the half-eaten box of pizza, and Steve Carell’s voice fills the room. We settle on 40-Year-Old Virgin without ever saying anything. It just happens to be on TV.

  I don’t miss the way he sits on the other side of the couch this time or how he leans away like he’s deliberately putting distance between us.

  For some reason, this makes me like him more. So many men would use today as an excuse to get in a girl’s panties. But not Brady. He totally could have had me ten ways to Sunday a few minutes ago.

  But then a nagging thought starts looping in my brain.

  Maybe he doesn’t want me. Maybe he realizes that a short fling with a farm girl is more trouble than it’s worth. Maybe he’s not attracted to me like I am to him.

  Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I pour another shot of tequila. I’m gonna regret the alcohol tomorrow, but this might numb the sting of rejection.

  It’s late. We’ve been downing one Steve Carell comedy after another. The pizza is gone and so is half a casserole I microwaved. My buzz has worn off, and I suspect Brady’s has too. We stopped drinking a while ago.

  I turn to Brady as I stand up and stretch. “Want some Advil? I’m gonna grab a couple before I go to bed.”

  He nods and mutters thanks.

  When I return, I hold out his glass of water and two orange tablets, which he takes with a small smile. “Wake me up tomorrow so I can help feed all the little beasts.”

  Oh, crap.

  How being around Brady could make me forget the obvious things I should be doing right now frustrates me. “I should check on everyone. It’s been raining pretty hard.”

  I bolt out of the room before he can answer. I know he doesn’t understan
d why we have so many animals, but Mel loved them, and Izzy does too, and despite how much work they are, I’d rather lose a limb than let anything happen to them.

  In my bedroom, I throw on my work boots and shrug into a coat. As I’m heading out the back door, Brady grips my arm. I turn and find him inches away, so close that I can feel his breath on my skin.

  “You shouldn’t go out there in the storm. Let me go.”

  His words send a panic through me. That night. The way my friends left in the thunderstorm. How they never came back.

  My heart races, and I grip his shirt with both hands. “No fucking way.”

  His eyebrows lift in surprise. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting him go out there.

  I shake my head, my hands trembling. I can’t breathe, and I start gasping for air.

  He closes his eyes briefly. I see the moment he realizes why I’m freaking out, because he reaches for me and presses me against his chest.

  His chin rests on top of my head, and I want to melt into him, but the secret I’ve been keeping is too much to bear. I’ve been trying to put it out of my head all week just to get through the funerals, but I can’t let this go any longer. He deserves to know. He might kick me out, but I have to tell him.

  “Brady.” My voice is muffled against his chest. Inhale. Exhale.

  “Shh. It’s okay. Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen tonight.”

  Guilt floods me. I can’t let him comfort me. It’s not right.

  “I have to tell you something.” I push against him until he lets me go. “It’s about the accident.”

  We stand in the dark hallway, and I hear little meows coming from the back porch. I ignore the kittens and prepare myself for what needs to be said. “It was my fault.” My face tilts down. “What happened. Why Sampson got out. The reason Cal and Mel drove out into the storm.”

  He stills, and even in the dark, I can feel his piercing eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I was supposed to lock up Sampson. I had gone to the barn to check on him. He was restless.” I blink back the familiar sting of tears in my eyes. “That horse hates thunder and was kicking against his stall. I walked in there to brush his mane and talk to him until he settled down. But I must have left the stall unlatched because later it was banging in the wind.”

  I can tell Brady doesn’t get what I’m saying, so I continue. “It’s why Mel and Cal went out that night. Because Sampson got out. It’s why they took their truck and went down to the back creek. He always wanders down there when he breaks loose.”

  My throat stings, and I close my eyes, waiting for Brady to yell at me, but he never does.

  When I get the courage to look at him, his head is lowered, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck. A minute passes, and finally he whispers, “Accidents happen, Kat.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. He just nudges me to the door with a sigh. “Let’s check and make sure everyone’s locked down for the night. C’mon. We’ll go together.”

  Nodding, I follow him out to the porch where the kittens start mewling. I kneel down and pet their damp fur. The wind is so strong, the rain is pelting through the back porch screen.

  Glancing around, I worry when I don’t see Bandit lurking. Even though the porch is enclosed, that little rascal knows how to work the latch on the flimsy door that leads outside. Hopefully, he’s nice and warm under the house.

  “Why don’t you put the kittens in Izzy’s room tonight?”

  “Great idea.” I scoop them up and put them in their little box. As I’m heading into the house, I look back at Brady. “Wait for me. I’ll just be a minute.”

  His eyes warm. “I’m not going anywhere without you. I promise.”

  21

  Brady

  Something happened while I watched Kat race around the property with ice-cold water pelting her skin and soaking her clothes. My admiration for her grew. As did the weight of what she told me earlier. I can’t believe she holds herself responsible.

  But I straight-up don’t know any woman who would willingly head out in a thunderstorm to do this.

  She dragged me across the farm to check on the chickens and goats and that horse. Everyone was locked away and dry. But that didn’t stop her from cooing at them sweetly.

  As we stand on the porch, drenched, she laughs. “So maybe I was overreacting. Maybe they didn’t need us to check on them.”

  Our breaths come out like little puffs of smoke in the cold air.

  I smile as I wipe water out of my eyes. “Better to be safe than sorry. But we should get out of these wet clothes before we catch pneumonia. Why don’t you hit the shower first? It’s too late for coffee, right?” It has to be after midnight.

  She thinks a long, hard minute as she shivers. “Probably. But dang, coffee sounds good.”

  “How about some tea? Or hot chocolate?”

  Her eyes brighten. “I’d love some hot chocolate! Check above the coffee maker. I think we have those little marshmallows.”

  She smiles, and I grin back like an idiot. I just ran around in some cold-ass rain for an hour, but one look from this girl, and I’d do it all over again.

  Her small hands start to unbutton her coat. She’s still wearing that dress. Only now she’s sporting work boots.

  I help her take off her coat, which is about fifteen pounds heavier since it’s drenched. I drape it over a chair so it can dry on the porch as she kicks off her boots. Motioning for her to get in the house, I follow behind. She turns to me as she reaches for the light in the bathroom. It backlights her so she glows, and it stops me in my tracks.

  She’s so fucking beautiful. Her cheeks are flushed and her skin is damp. Wet tendrils of hair stick to her neck.

  And that dress. Goddamn. The fabric is glued to her like a second skin, and even though the dress is black, it’s hard to miss her nipples standing at attention. Especially since her chest is heaving from the cold.

  Fuck me.

  I had a hell of a time not kissing her earlier, and seeing her like this is not helping.

  “I’m going to grab us those drinks,” I mumble, stalking away before I beg her to let me join her in the shower. Because the thought of her naked body, soapy and slick, has me hard enough to pound nails.

  By the time we swap places, I’ve barely managed to get the milk microwaved, but at least the boner crisis has subsided.

  Until I step into the shower that smells just like her.

  My resistance, which has been hanging by a very fine thread, finally snaps.

  There’s only so much shit I can deal with in one day. I may not be able to act on my attraction to her, but at least I can take the edge off so I don’t strip her bare and fuck her against a wall.

  For the first time since I’ve met her, I really let myself think about Kat, the gorgeous woman who’s been here for me since the moment I walked through that front door. Have I really only known her five days? Jesus. I feel like I’ve been here weeks, not days. Everything about our situation is intense. I shouldn’t be surprised that the vibe between us is too.

  I ignore the strange emotion darting around in my chest. This, thinking about her while I rub one out, has to be purely physical. It can’t be more. Nothing about our relationship can mean more.

  Leaning against the shower wall with one hand, I close my eyes as the hot water beats against my skin. My dick bounces against my stomach, and I grip it hard as I give into the fantasy.

  She fills my vision with her honey-colored eyes and pouty lips. With that taut body and round ass. With those toned legs and full breasts.

  I think about what it would feel like to have that sexy mouth on me. How she’d writhe when I bite her pretty pink nipples.

  My cock swells as I imagine her wet curves fitting against me. The sounds she’d make as I lick up her sweet center.

  The way she’d moan before chanting my name.

  The rush of making her come hard.

  And that’s all it takes.


  The kitchen is dark when I get done with my shower, so I head to the office. Two cups of hot chocolate sit on the coffee table, but Kat is sound asleep. She’s curled up on half of the couch while her damp hair drips down her arms. I close my eyes so I don’t stare at her like a creep.

  Reaching over, I take off her glasses and set them on the coffee table.

  Damn. I don’t want to wake her up, but where am I supposed to sleep? I’m sure as shit not using Cal’s bed, and I think it would be a little weird if Kat woke up tomorrow morning and found me passed out in her room.

  I grab a blanket and drape it over her. If the goose bumps on her arms are any indication, she’s freezing. It’s chilly in here, and she’s just wearing thin sweat pants and a t-shirt.

  Which reminds me that I need to figure out the problem with the heating vents so she doesn’t catch pneumonia in her bedroom.

  But first, where do I sleep tonight?

  My brain feels like mush, especially after the tequila, that shower, and my impromptu jerk-off session. I’m ready to pass out. When my eyes land on the hot chocolate, though, I can’t resist taking a sip. Goddamn. It’s good.

  After a minute, I set down the mug and debate what to do. Briefly, I consider the couch in the living room but dismiss it when I remember the broken springs that would probably poke a hole in my ass.

  Deciding I need to sit, I park myself on the far end of the couch, opposite Kat. When I lean back, I’m surprised when it gives more than I expect.

  It only took you five days to figure out that it’s a lounger, dumbass.

  After grabbing another blanket, I settle in.

  The rain beats against the windows, creating an hypnotic sound. I’m pretty sure I pass out a minute after my head hits the cushion. I’m hoping I can sleep into next week.

  But I bolt upright when a scream cuts through the silence.

  I look over to find Kat huddled on the couch. She's trembling, whispering, "No, no!"

 

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