by Mignon Mykel
I nodded down toward her feet. “You work a bar in those before?”
She scoffed at me, shifting ever so slightly in her spot. “No. But they are my shoe of choice and I’ve worn them for hours on end. What I wear on my feet should be no concern of yours.”
I just grinned at her attitude. “Sure thing. Just don’t come crying to me when your feet kill.”
“I don’t go crying to anyone.”
I simply stared at her. I heard a world of truth in her words and damn if that didn’t make me want to be the person she could come crying to.
Damn. Hold up.
I just met this girl and received the equivalent of a death threat from her brothers if I touched her.
Yet I didn’t seem to care.
“Oh, but you will.”
“Will I?” She lifted a perfectly shaped brow in challenge.
I leaned down and in so we were nearly nose to nose.
She was easily six inches shorter than me in her heels, which had to put her at around five-three without. “I think you will.”
She stared at me, her face tilted up and her expression unwavering. From here, I could see gold specks in her eyes. There was a light dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose.
And those lips of hers.
That cupid bow mouth with a plump lower lip.
They were begging to be kissed.
She smelled sweet and looked it too, and I knew without a doubt I would have this woman—someway, somehow.
In secret, in public, I didn’t care.
I was making it my mission to win her over, her brothers be damned.
Four Years Ago
Brenna
When I say that keeping Stone at arm’s length was difficult, I mean it was the equivalent of trying to keep a ticking bomb—with a remote detonator you did not have—from going off.
For a year I managed to avoid his advances.
Hardly.
Instead, I flirted back with him, trying to prove to him just where his place was. I was the sister of his bosses and he wasn’t getting anywhere with me.
Even if I wanted those thick, colorful arms around me.
His spicy, musky cologne near me.
His beautifully crooked smile aimed at me.
Stone and I fell into an easy rhythm, which turned out to be incredibly important, as he and I worked many shifts together. He may have flirted with every person with tits, but he saved a special brand of flirting just for me.
Just as I did for him.
With it, I found myself having an absurd amount of fun with him. I looked forward to working with him for more than his good looks, but for the way he made me feel.
“Hey, gorgeous. What’ve you got for me?” Stone said, moving down the bar to where I set my tray down to remove old bottles and glasses. Today he wore a light blue shirt that had his gray eyes popping, but I tried to not focus on that, instead focusing on work.
“I need you—”
“I’ve been waiting for that.” His grin was smug.
I lifted a brow. “I need you,” I started again, “to pour me a house lager, please…oh kind sir,” I added with a hint of sass. I couldn’t stop the corners of my lips from angling up.
“Anything for you.” He wiped his hands on the towel hanging from his side before doing just that. He glanced past me to the kitchen door before lowering his voice, speaking from the side. “When are you going to agree to go out with me?”
Every shift, without fail, he asked.
Every shift, without fail, I told him no.
But it was getting harder.
“When the sky turns orange.” Still though, I smiled, watching as his large, capable hands worked the tap system.
“I heard a storm is coming. It may turn orange before you know it.” He smirked, placing the glass on my tray.
“Don’t hold your breath.” I couldn’t wipe the silly grin from my face though, even if the entire thing baffled me.
I didn’t get it.
How did one manage to go two years without finding any guy attractive, only to be blindsided by someone who was technically off limits in every sense?
I didn’t want a man in my life. I was tired of being that Brenna.
On top of that, I had two very protective older brothers.
Stone didn’t have a chance.
But good God, I wanted him like I wanted my next breath.
Generally, my shift ended before Stone’s, but for whatever reason, today he left the floor at the same time I did.
“Rory’s covering for me,” he said when I slid him a side glance. He followed me to the back and I almost expected him to follow me into the office as well when I went to grab my purse, but he didn’t.
He was waiting by the back door, though. “So that sky? It’s kind of orange right now. You see, Bren,” he said, his eyes locked on mine as I neared the door and therefore, him, “regardless of a bad storm, the sky turns orange at night with the setting sun. I think you wanted to go out with me.”
I continued walking toward him, slipping past him when he held the door open for me.
I may have brushed my arm along his stomach in doing so.
Maybe.
Not on purpose though.
…but maybe, yeah.
“I meant green.” I tried not to chuckle.
“Ah-ah, you can’t go back on it.” He was behind me and, without touching me, moved his arm over my shoulder and pointed toward the horizon.
O’Gallaghers may have been in a fairly populated place, but you could still make out the ocean horizon. And just past the ink marring the space beside me, just beyond the finger he pointed, was one of the most gorgeous sunsets I had the pleasure of viewing from this spot.
“Orange.” His voice was low and dangerously close to my ear. “You owe me a date.” He dropped his arm back to his side and I was surprised that I missed the almost contact.
There was no point fighting something that I wanted, something that I craved. I could be proud of myself for holding off men for two-plus years, and this particular one for twelve months.
I hoped like hell I was safe from disappointment though—that I learned something from my time being single.
One date.
I didn’t have to sleep with him, much like I would have had we met one another even four years ago.
Just a date.
Resigned,
yet excited at the same time, I took a deep breath and shot him a coy smile over my shoulder. “You got time tonight, Greyson Stone?”
Stone
Twelve months I spent trying to work down this girl, and it was fucking worth the wait.
For the sake of her brothers, we took separate vehicles back to my place, where she hopped into my Jeep and we spent an hour driving up and down the coast.
It was fun.
It was light.
We laughed and joked, talking about nothing important but, for whatever reason, that felt important.
“We’re near my place, if you want to go there? We can order something?” she asked, looking at me from her spot in the passenger seat.
The roof was off and her black pony tail was blowing every which way around her face. She reached up to grab the end, holding it to her shoulder as she waited for my answer.
I was a healthy twenty-six year old man. I would be lying if I didn’t say I was hopeful that going back to her place meant more than just eating.
But I also realized Brenna kept me at arm’s length for the past year, and there was likely a reason other than her brothers. She never talked about dates or guys or, hell, anything, in her past.
Recalling the timidity in her eyes when we first met, I was willing to bet there was a story there.
I wasn’t going to push though.
“Sure, we can do that.”
I turned the music down slightly so it could still be heard over the roaring of the passing road and cars, but also so I could hear Brenna’s directions.
Duri
ng a straight shot, Brenna sat up straight in her chair, a huge smile on her beautiful face. “I love this song!” She reached for the dial and turned up the volume. It was Old Dominion’s “Song for Another Time.”
As she began to sing with the words, I chuckled to myself. This was my favorite CD at the moment. When the song finished, the CD shuffled to my current favorite song, namely because it felt real to what I was doing with Brenna right now.
Not knowing these words, Brenna sat back, listening to the words of “Til It’s Over,” nodding her head and swaying during some of the bigger instrumental points. Still, she was good about pointing me in the right direction and with awesome timing, the song ended just as I pulled into her duplex.
“Let me open the garage so you can park inside. You know. In case.” She hopped out of the Jeep before I could say something, but I shrugged mentally. She was a little paranoid about her brothers finding out we went out for a little while, but I’d let her have it. For now.
If this was going to continue, there was no way in hell I was keeping her a secret.
She was the type of girl you showed off. Not just because she was beautiful, but because she was fun. She was sun and laughter all wrapped into a pretty package.
When the garage door lifted, I pulled the Jeep in, shutting off the ignition and climbing out just as she hit the button to close the door again.
Following her into her place, I looked around at the largeness. It was open and had a staircase that led to a lofted area. “You live here by yourself?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I shared it with a roommate up until a few months ago but she moved out and it’s all mine now. Rent’s not terrible for being in this area.”
The garage door led right into the kitchen and dining area, which looked fairly updated with the slate floors and nice counters. Even the cabinets looked to be more modern than I would have thought for a duplex in this area.
“It’s really nice.”
She nodded. “Yeah. It was one of Rory’s projects a few years ago. Well, not the actual renovation, but the planning of it. After, it was what gave Conor the inspiration to completely reno the pub.”
I walked around the space slowly, taking everything in. If the kitchen and dining were the back half of the house, with a door leading to what I could only guess were the laundry room and a bathroom, the front half was the living area. The floors there were a natural wood and her furniture was incredibly nice too.
Shit, did these people have money and I didn’t know it?
I stuffed my hands in my back pockets and turned back toward her, putting a smile on my face. So she had nice digs and a nicer place to sit down at night. But knowing what I did about Brenna, little as it may be, I didn’t think that any of this was for show.
“Food?”
Brenna gave me her full, real smile, the one that brought out a dimple parallel to the bottom of her left eye, and nodded. “Sure. What would you like? I have pizza on autodial.”
And that was what we ate for our first meal.
Nothing terribly special.
Nowhere fancy.
But comfortable, and cozy, and enjoyable.
After the pizza was eaten and everything put away, Brenna and I sat on her overstuffed leather couch in absolute silence. She lost her heels right after the pizza arrived.
She wore heels every shift. Sometimes I wondered if it were just her being stubborn, trying to prove a point after our first conversation about them. Still, I never caught her grimacing or even toeing them off during her breaks. She wore them like she was born in them.
If she were turned, I’d probably offer her a foot rub. I could only imagine her moan of pleasure as I dug my thumbs into her arches.
But I was rather comfortable right here, right now, with her curled into my side.
I noticed she didn’t have a television, but I didn’t want the obtrusion anyway. At some point, Brenna grew more comfortable with me and was now curled up into my side, her head on my shoulder and my arm around her. Her fingers traced lazy circles on my denim covered thigh but every now and then, her hand would pause and I would feel her tremble.
For all of her laughter and smiles, I got the sudden feeling that maybe her holding me back had a shit-ton to do with her, rather than her brothers.
“Dance with me?” I asked, picking up her hand in mine.
She sat up and smiled slightly. “Sure?” Her brows drew in for a moment, making me chuckle.
“Don’t worry about the music, Angel.”
If anything, that made her frown deepen, but still she rose from the couch when I pulled her to stand, willingly moving into my body when I brought her closer.
With both of her small hands in one of mine I brought her closer, my other hand to the small of her back. She was pressed against me everywhere and I fucking loved it. She was a little stiff, but my guess would be she simply felt awkward. Hell, there was no music—it was slightly awkward.
But I brought my A-game tonight.
I was no Justin Timberlake, but I could sing when needed.
With my voice low and soft, I sang to her, our bodies rocking slightly back and forth in the light of her living room. I sang to her a classic Sinatra song, and led that into “Till It’s Over,” my version a little more sensual and slower than the version she swayed to in the Jeep earlier. When I got to the ‘naked making out’ part though, Brenna pulled back laughing.
It was the most alive I had seen her face in the short time I’d known her. “They don’t say that!” Her eyes were bright, her smile wide, but she didn’t pull her hands from the cage mine put them in.
I grinned crookedly. “But they do. You’ve interrupted my song.” My hand on her lower back rubbed in small circles. “…or keep our clothes on. Don't—”
“But those aren’t the words. It’s ‘makin’ makin’ out.’”
I barked out a laugh, my own smile growing wide. “This isn’t Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Brenna.”
“Seriously though? ‘Naked makin’ out?’”
Reluctantly, I let go of her hands to pull my phone from my pocket. I was more than pleased when she kept her hands on my chest, spreading her fingers over me. I kept my hand on her back though, not wanting to let go of any more points of contact. Quickly, I pulled up a search result for the lyrics to the Old Dominion song and double-tapped the screen, zooming in on the first verse.
With my thumb under the words, I showed her the phone. “See? Naked makin’ out.”
She spoke through her wide smile, shaking her head. “That’s ridiculous.”
I tossed my phone toward the couch, kind of thankful it actually landed on the couch and not the hardwood floor, and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her impossibly close. Lowering my head toward her ear, I swayed us back and forth to the music in my head. “But it’s true,” I whispered to her.
She burrowed into me, slipping her arms around my waist, and swayed with me as I sang her the rest of the song.
Brenna
Stone scared me.
Things I felt around him were things I hadn’t felt before, not in my teenaged years, nor my twentieth year, of surrounding myself with guys.
Much like the words he sang to me, he didn’t try anything more than to sway with me in my living room. The feel of his hard body pressed against mine had my heart fluttering like mad. Add to that the fact that he was clearly aroused yet tried nothing…
My goodness, this man.
Eventually, he grabbed his phone and turned on a Spotify station and I found I missed his low, raspy singing voice, the grit in his words, his voice in my ear. But having music to sway to helped to keep the moment light.
After what had to be the tenth song, I leaned back from his arms and searched his face. What I was looking for, I wasn’t entirely sure.
His gray eyes bore down into mine, but he said nothing, did nothing. Not that I did either. We stood and stared at one another for a few long moments and rather than feel awkward it felt…
/>
Freeing.
Stone was unlike any man I had been around and while, like I said, it scared me, it also had me excited and curious. What would it be like to be in this man’s arms in the primal sense?
I dropped my eyes to my hands, spread on his broad chest. With a deep breath, I found the courage to fully break my clause, putting my trust in this man I didn’t fully know but who made me feel like something, someone, I hadn’t felt ever before.
Moving my green gaze back to his gray one, I slid my hands up his chest, brushing along the sides of his thick neck, and placed them gently on his scruffy cheeks. Still, my eyes searched his, this time looking for a reason to stop, a reason to step back into my safe walls.
There weren’t any.
I pushed up on tiptoe, gently pulling his face down to meet me. His eyes never left mine.
Before I could press my lips to his though, he spoke. “We don’t have to, Bren.”
So I whispered against his, “But I want to.”
His lips pressed to mine, not giving me the chance to close the small gap myself. His hands moved from my back down to my ass and before I could prepare myself, he lifted me up. I gasped into his mouth which only served as an opening for him to sweep his tongue into mine.
The feel of the thickness in my mouth had me moaning. I moved a hand to the back of his blond head, wrapping my other arm around his neck. Between my arm and my legs wrapping around his hips, I was entwined around him like a monkey, I was sure, but I gave two fucks. My body was pulsing, my core was wet, and I wanted nothing more than to be completely engulfed by this man.
“Upstairs,” I whispered against his mouth.
I felt him pause and knew without a doubt that this man here was a good man. He was considering what I was telling him.
But I gave him permission already. I wanted him, us, upstairs.
Finally, he moved us toward the stairs without further direction and excitement coursed through my body. He kissed me until we were about halfway up the steps, where he stumbled.