by Jules Dixon
“He called you his girlfriend,” Presley said. “So I guess everything got all worked out?”
“And then some,” I mumbled.
Her eyes narrowed but returned to the giant green globes she was blessed with. “Well, good for you. I can’t wait to meet the man that makes you blush like that.” She glanced down at her phone as it lit up and a deep scowl furrowed her brows. She released some weird groan/grunt combo that wasn’t like her. “Avery, have you met any of Bryson’s family?”
“Not yet. He has a sister who lives here in Omaha. I think he said her name is—”
“Emerson,” we said together.
I sat up straight and leaned forward. “How did you know that?”
Presley shoved her hands in her pant pockets. “Emerson is not nice, Avery.”
“Like how ‘not nice’?”
She lowered her voice. “Like she might be the biggest bitch I’ve ever met.”
Wow, Presley never talks like that.
I swallowed. “I think I need details.”
Presley leaned over the tall desk. “She did her best and worst to seduce Jude to be hers even after she knew he was interested in me. Then she told Blake I was causing problems at Triple R when really she was the one making up stories. She causes drama to the extreme.”
I trusted Presley like a sister. If she thought Emerson was hard to stomach, she was probably right. I wanted Bryson in my life. I assumed his family came with that commitment. Mine came with me.
“Avery,” Presley called me out of my reflections.
I brought my gaze back to her.
She continued, “Just keep it in mind. I’m sure Bryson can handle his sister. He’s had years of practice.”
“What time is he supposed to be here?”
“Five.”
“Presley!” Charlie called from his doorway. “Got a question.” He waved her into his office.
I tried to stay busy for the next two hours but my thoughts kept creeping back to what Presley said. Dealing with alpha-bitch girls wasn’t a life skill I’d acquired. I couldn’t figure out how to start a conversation with Bryson about Emerson. So, today I heard your sister’s a bitch. Seemed more than a touch disrespectful and just thinking the sentence made my skin itch with hives. Plus, if he were anything like my brothers, he’d be defensive and protective of her.
“Hey there, gorgeous.”
It wasn’t that his voice did things to me. It was that his voice did everything to me.
I lifted my head from my computer screen. “Hi.” I leaned across the desk, grabbed him by his coat, and drew him in to kiss him. “Presley told me you were coming in today.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. I forget women talk.” His blue eyes were like an ultra hot flame and my skin heated from his stare.
“About lots of things,” I muttered, sitting again.
“Like sex?”
“Not that!” I cringed at the volume of my voice and glanced around to make sure no one heard us.
He chuckled at my outburst.
I pushed the speaker button. “Presley Bradenhurst to the showroom floor to meet a very…” I giggled through the rest of the announcement as he smiled, “…very handsome client, please.”
“What the heck?” Charlie exclaimed from his office.
Presley laughed and in a few seconds Charlie was following her out of his office.
Figures.
I walked around the desk. Bryson slipped his arm around my waist and brushed his lips against my temple. I introduced everyone. Bryson shook hands with them both, offering pleasant greetings. Then Charlie excused himself back to his office.
“Bryson, you ready to find a new vehicle?” Presley asked.
“I am.” He turned to me. “Wanna come to my place for dinner?”
“I’d love to.”
“I’ll text you the address. I don’t live that far from your place.”
“I get off at six. Just text when you’re ready for me to come over.”
His lips crushed to mine, and I whimpered at the connection.
Turning to Presley, he smiled. “Okay, ready to sign away my life.”
Presley laughed, shaking her head. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
After they rounded the corner to Presley’s office, I returned behind the desk.
On the drive home, thoughts of my family crept in. They could be protective but they would never be cruel to anyone. Would I want someone questioning me about their behaviors?
Probably not.
Adam could be stern and direct but his protective ways told me he cared. Alex was a big softie, and he respected and cared about everyone. Then there was Aidan—my best friend. He’d listened to all my crap over the years without judging or making me feel dumb for any choice I’d made or not made. Aidan insisted on getting the same tattoo after I’d lost our bet and underwent the needle. He said what he picked was a random design in a book. His ultra-logical side told me there was more to the fish, but sometimes knowing there was a secret meant more to me.
I should call him and talk this out.
I changed into comfortable clothes and sat down to pay my bills for the month. The amount left in my account never seemed to be as much as I thought should be there but it was always enough. My phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced over and saw Bryson’s address, then texted back that I was leaving. I grabbed my coat and purse and shut down my laptop.
****
Bryson was waiting in the hall when I walked to the glass security door. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Thanks for the invite.”
His arm wrapped around my waist as he guided me up the stairs to the second floor and pushed open the door.
Inside the apartment, a guy slept in a recliner across the room.
Keeping my voice low, I leaned to Bryson. “Maybe we should go to my place?”
“That’s my roommate, Jake. You don’t have to be quiet. He should be sleeping in his room. Not in the living room.” Bryson’s voice boomed through the small space.
The previously sleeping body raised his arm and flicked Bryson the middle finger. He adjusted in the chair and flipped the leg-rest down to stand. He stretched as he crossed the room. “Hi, Jake Greenstein.” His hazel eyes, grey and green, glowed from the indirect light of the lamp in the corner.
I shook his hand. “Avery Knicely.”
Bryson wrapped his arms around me from behind, and I leaned back against him. “Don’t get any ideas, Greenstein.”
Jake had a contagious laugh. I giggled with him while turning to wrap an arm around Bryson.
Jake grabbed a gym bag. “Understood, Welch. I’m gonna hit the gym. Be back around eleven.”
“You don’t have to leave, Jake,” I offered, mostly because I didn’t want him to feel chased from his own home. Not that I didn’t want to be alone with Bryson.
“Nah, I’m good. I was going to go see a friend later anyway. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow night at the Triple R party?”
“Okay. Have a good night.”
He glanced to Bryson. “Later.”
The door closed.
“Hungry?” Bryson asked.
“Sure.”
“I picked up Chinese food.”
“Yum.”
There wasn’t a kitchen table so we sat on the sofa. We did eat off of real plates and I thought that was a step up from right out of the square containers, but I didn’t really care either way. The sofa was too large for the room, and it smelled faintly of spilt beer and an excessive application of AXE body spray.
Typical bachelor pad.
“You’re kind of quiet,” Bryson said after a long silence.
“Long day. Did you get a new vehicle?”
“I did, a four-wheel drive truck. Should get around okay in the snow, but I thought that about my Jeep, too.” He reached over and touched what was going to be a scar but one that I didn’t mind. It was a night I would forever remember.
I wrapped my f
ingers around his wrist and guided his hand down to nuzzle into his palm.
“The accident gave me the scar. You gave me your heart, Bryson. Not the other way around.”
His eyes scanned mine. “My heart was yours before that night. I swear, Avery.”
I went back to my food and pushed it around with my fork. He set his plate on the coffee table, then grabbed mine and set it there, too.
“Okay, tell me. I can’t watch you move your noodles around like they’re spelling out whatever is on your mind for the rest of the night. If there’s something you need to say, I want you to be comfortable saying it.”
“Presley told me something about your sister,” I blurted out.
His back straightened. “What the hell did Emerson do now?”
My eyes opened wide and regret chilled my skin. “Um … you know … it’s no big deal. Just forget it.”
Bryson lifted my chin. “I’m sorry, Avery. I didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh. Emerson’s not my favorite person, but she’s family so I put up with her bullshit, even when I shouldn’t. What did Presley say?”
“Mostly that Emerson tried her best to steal Jude and she caused trouble at Triple R for Presley.”
“That’s Emerson.” He grabbed his plate and started eating again. “I’ll protect you.”
“Protect me?”
His eyes stayed on his food. “She’ll be at the Triple R holiday party tomorrow night. I’ll make sure she stays far away from you.”
“I don’t need you to keep me from her … or her from me, Bryson. I want to understand her so I can be around her and get to know her.” She was his family after all.
“Emerson isn’t a person you want to get to know.” He shoveled food in his mouth.
I cringed at his cold delivery of the sentence. “Do you want to get to know my family?”
“Well … of course.”
I wasn’t sure if the pause was swallowing food or contemplating an answer. The first was bad timing; the second was harder to justify.
Family shouldn’t be contemplated. They should be cherished.
I stood and grabbed my coat, shoving my arms through. “I’m sorry, Bryson, I’m not feeling well. I’m going home.”
“What? Wait…” He dropped his plate on the table and stood as I stepped into the middle of the room and stared at an intricate picture frame holding a photo of Bryson and Emerson in the entertainment center. They looked happy, not distant.
“I think it was just too much, too fast.”
Glass cuts. I should have gotten to know him better.
Bryson stepped closer. “What was?”
I snapped from my thoughts and backpedaled out of the statement. “I ate too much, too fast. My stomach hurts.”
His arms wrapped around me and his warm hands rubbed my back. “Can I get you something? Antacid or a soda? Mom always gave me those when my stomach hurt.”
The fact he wanted to help me feel better made my stomach hurt for real. “Thanks, but I want to go home and rest.”
He tipped my head up to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what it is, but when you hurt or something isn’t right, I feel it too.”
I closed my eyes. “I’ll be okay.”
He pulled me close and his cologne saturated the air with those vivid memories of my childhood and feeling confused. “Avery, I can be the man who knows what helps you when your stomach hurts. I can be the man who comforts you and holds you and keeps you safe. Let me take care of you not only because I love you but because you love me and you need me to.”
What do I need? Really…
Even though it was churning, my gut told me.
I rested my cheek on his chest. “An antacid would be great. Thank you.” Getting extra calcium wasn’t a bad choice, but making a snap decision to leave would’ve been. His relationship with his family was just different.
Different could be … okay?
Bryson kissed my forehead. “Lay on the sofa and I’ll be right back.”
I shrugged off my coat and lay staring at the ceiling’s swirl design. After I chewed the antacids, he sat at my head, lifting it to his lap, and ran his fingers through my hair. I turned to my side to face him, resting my cheek on his thigh.
When he started to sing, I closed my eyes. First his voice was almost a whisper, but as he made it to the second chorus he was confident. I was afraid he would stop if I opened my eyes and the sound was soothing me from the inside out. It was a lyrical therapy for my confused soul. This was what I needed. The song ended and I wished for a repeat button.
I opened my eyes and reached up to touch his face. “That was beautiful.”
“That was for you, Avery.”
“The name of the song?”
“Love in Snow.”
“Kind of fitting.”
“Definitely fitting.” He rubbed my back. “Do you want to stay the night?”
“I do.”
Bryson guided me off the couch into his arms. His hand slipped into mine and he led me into his room.
He stared over my shoulder and his lips rose slowly.
“What?”
“Look.” He turned me in his arms.
Through the shades, the falling snow glittered in the streetlamp’s glow.
Bryson kissed down my neck, the touch searing my skin with his hot breaths. “How are you feeling?”
I sighed, “Really good.”
“We don’t have to—”
I turned to face him. “I want to be with you, Bryson. Monday night was perfect, but I bet we can do better.”
That soft smile that fluttered something deep inside of me crossed his face. “I bet we can, too.”
“Just go slow and tell me what to do.”
“No, you tell me what you like and what feels good.”
That made more sense.
He lifted my sweater over my head, exposing my new hot pink bra, and his eyes widened.
“You like?” I’d picked it up yesterday before work.
A little present with matching thong for you, Mr. Welch.
His hands rested low on my back, holding me close. Not possessive, just perfect. “I love.”
I stepped back from him and pulled my hair from the messy ponytail on top of my head. His chest rose as the waves cascaded over my shoulders and down to my waist. There wasn’t a care in my mind. When I was with him anything else in the world didn’t exist.
With the button undone, I lowered the zipper on my jeans, but turned so my back faced him before shimmying them down my legs. The tiny strip of fabric and waistband of my thong accentuated the bubble butt that exercise had developed. I stepped from the jeans. And I stood there, glancing over my shoulder. I loved being worshiped by his eyes. My heart pounded faster hearing his breathing speed up.
Large hands clasped my waist and he stepped to me, allowing me to feel the hardness pressing through his jeans into my lower back.
Soft lips caressed the back of my ear. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Avery.”
He grasped my hair in one hand and slowly twisted my head so that my mouth was accessible. And then he made my knees wobble with a kiss that confiscated my will and captured my soul. Our tongues pirouetted like ballet dancers at the Nutcracker performance that I’d taken my nieces to the previous weekend. Visions of twirling hearts and sparkling stars filled behind my eyes as I lost myself in the moment. His hands brushed over my stomach, making me moan as they trailed lower and lower, until he cupped between my legs.
He backed away slowly. I turned to watch him remove his long-sleeved t-shirt. I reached out and traced the lines of his muscles. Every arc and slope slipped like silk under my sightseeing finger. He was a roadmap of perfection. To me.
“You are a gorgeous man.” My hand trailed to the top of his jeans, but I wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. He was mine and I needed him. “Can I…” I swallowed down a baby batch of anxiety. “I mean, would you like me to…” The nerves were winning.
“Take a deep breath and say what you want to. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
I decided not to say, but to show him. I pressed on his chest and he stepped back until his legs hit the edge of the bed. My fingers unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, the rush of exhilaration fed through my body, a burst of heat like I’d never experienced. Everything was new, and my head swam in thoughts of what I was going to do.
To him.
I slipped the jeans down his legs, his boxers still hugging to those amazing dips in his muscles below his waist. That would be the final wrapping on my present. He stepped out of the jeans and slipped off his socks.
My lips brushed over his chest, down to that gift that awaited me. His legs were too long for me to be on my knees, so I pushed him onto the bed. With wide eyes, he chuckled.
My mind froze. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing this—”
“Impossible.” He read my mind. “Whatever you do will be perfect.”
I’d never been so in control of a situation. A warmth of knowing he had no expectations encouraged me on.
My fingers slid up his legs and to where his boxers were tented. Impressively.
We both inhaled sharply when my hand brushed over his hard cock through the fabric. I pulled the waistband down and tugged the fabric off. And there he was. Exposed like I’d been two days ago. He backed further onto the bed. I lie between his legs and wet my lips. Daunting didn’t even come close.
His hand threaded behind my neck as he stared down at me. “Hey, as long as there’s no biting or teeth scraping,”—his eyebrows shot up—“it’s all good. I promise.”
I giggled. Even in high school, I’d heard the “keep the teeth away” thing from other girls, and figured that was a given.
“Do you think it’s weird that I’ve never done this before?”
He sat up, reached under my arms, and pulled me on top of him. “I think it’s amazing that you waited. Honestly, and I’m not just saying this, and it’s not like I’ve been with hundreds of women, so don’t think that I’d ever be comparing or that you’re a number in a long line, but if I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t have been so willing for anything to happen with them. There’s something about when it’s the right person that makes every other time seem wrong.”