Be Brave With Me

by J. B. Havens

  “I think you like my brand of trouble.” I step closer to him, walking my fingers up his chest playfully. “I kinda like how you look in that tool belt. Maybe I’ll start breaking things so you have to keep coming back to fix them.”

  “Woman.” He grabs my arms and pulls me in tightly. I tip my head back, staring into his eyes. His big hands cradle my face gently, his thumbs tracing along my cheeks. “You’re so damn soft,” he whispers before claiming my mouth.

  The kiss is slower and deeper than last night. Less fiery passion and more needful exploration. Helpless to resist, I arch against him, moaning softly. One big hand slides down my back, pressing me even closer against his body, while the other descends into my hair. His lips leave me, nibbling their way over my jaw, taking a sharp pull on my earlobe, and traveling down my neck, while his hand moves lower, grasping my bottom firmly. He growls against me, and I shiver in response before he kisses me again. I open my mouth, sucking his tongue, reveling in the heat and taste of him. My head is swimming as my heart pounds.

  My own hands wander across his shoulders and down his back, then return to his head. I knock off his hat and bury my hands in his hair, which I can’t seem to stop touching. The silken strands catch between my fingers as I grab fistfuls and pull him down to me. I capture his lip between my teeth, biting lightly, earning a groan.

  “Meg,” Drew gasps, pulling back just far enough to speak. “We have to stop.”

  Resting my forehead against his chest, I sigh loudly and with feeling. “I don’t want to.” I run my hand along his chest, delighting in the way he feels under my fingertips. The heat from his skin warms my hands even through the soft cotton of his shirt. “I should want to stop. I should want to run far away and never look back. You make me feel things . . . want things I haven’t wanted in a long time. You scare the crap out of me.” My confession startles me. I hadn’t meant to say that. He has me so tied up in knots, I don’t know which way is up.

  “You’re pretty terrifyin’ yourself.” Lifting my chin with a finger, his gaze is as deep as the sea reflected in his eyes. “Sometimes, bein’ brave doesn’t mean not feelin’ fear. I think true bravery is when you feel the fear, own it, and do what scares you anyway.” He kisses me gently, a mere brush of lips. “Be brave with me?”

  “How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?” I touch his beard, running my fingers through the coarse hair. I love the feel of it, how it looks on him, and I can’t help but wonder how it would feel brushing against the most sensitive parts of me. I’ve always preferred my men clean shaven, but maybe it’s time to do something different.

  “I can see those dirty thoughts you’re havin’.” He grasps my face again and I reach up to cover his hands with my own. “Keep thinkin’ them. Keep wantin’.” A kiss. “Keep needin’.” Another kiss. “Until tonight.” His lips meet mine again and he groans into my mouth, deepening the kiss until my length is flush against his and the evidence of his arousal is hard against my stomach.

  “Drew?” A voice calls from outside my room, before someone knocks on the door. I laugh against his lips when he stiffens in surprise. “Drew, are you here? Meg?” The door begins to open as Drew lets me go and steps back quickly.

  “Nana, I’m just finishin’ up.” He glances over to where his tiny grandmother stands in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, with a disapproving scowl on her wrinkled face.

  “I can see that.” Her voice is the bucket of ice water we both need poured over us.

  “Morning, Nana.” I smile and wave cheerfully, hoping she won’t comment on my nightgown, messed up hair, and swollen mouth. Her keen eyes take in all the details of the scene before her and I know we haven’t fooled her for a second. We’d been caught necking like a pair of horny teenagers.

  “Hello, hun,” she says, nodding in my direction before turning her attention back to Drew. “The sink in room five still needs looked at and I’d like you to do the weed whacking before it rains.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answers respectfully, ducking his head as he glances back at me quickly before leaving.

  “Did Drew fix your shower, hun?”

  “Yes, ma’am, he sure did. Thank you.” I smile, trying to reassure her with my eyes that I’m not out to corrupt her precious grandson. Not much anyway.

  “You go ahead and take your shower now. I’ll be waiting in the office.” Her tone leaves zero room for argument, and I know if I blow her off, it will just cause more problems for Drew. I didn’t want to be the cause of tension between them, so I plan to do as commanded. I spot Drew’s forgotten hat on the floor. Snatching it up, I decide to make him earn it back later.

  Chapter 11

  Meg

  I shower and dress in jeans and a T-shirt. It’s warm enough that I settle for flip-flops again. Glancing at my toes, I notice the chipped polish; it’s time for a pedicure. I’m stalling. I don’t want to face Nana and whatever judgment she plans to bestow upon me. I like Drew, more than I should really, but whatever this thing is between us; it’s too new to withstand the censure of a family member.

  “Nothing to do about it, but just go get it over with.”

  I slip Drew’s hat into my back pocket. The fabric is so worn and faded, it folds in half easily. Also pocketing my room key, I leave to face the music. As I walk down to the office, I see Drew coming out of a maintenance shed carrying a weed whacker. He’d stripped his shirt off, as the day is unusually hot for fall. Forcing myself to look away, I pull open the door of the office.

  “Meg, come sit with me.” Nana’s already on the small loveseat, with a book in her lap and a glass of sweet tea on the small table by her elbow.

  Following orders, I sit, folding my hands in my lap and trying not to fidget with nervousness.

  “Do you know why I wanted to speak with you?” Nana begins.

  I swallow thickly. “I have a pretty good idea, but why don’t you just go ahead and say what’s on your mind.”

  “You’re direct. I like that, and so will Drew.” She pauses, taking a long drink of her tea, the ice clinking against the side of the glass. It’s the only sound in the room. I squirm in my seat. “What are your intentions toward my grandson? And don’t sit there and say you aren’t interested. I may be old, but I know what I saw earlier. You two were neckin’ like a couple of kids under the bleachers.”

  My face heats against my will. I rub my hand across the back of my neck nervously. “I like Drew. He seems to like me.” I take a second to gather my thoughts, Nana watches patiently. “I can talk to him in a way I haven’t been able to talk to anyone in a long time. He’s a good man.”

  “Has he told you about his leg? About the accident?”

  “No, not yet. He, uh, asked me to dinner tonight, he said he’d tell me everything then.” I chew on my bottom lip. I am so out of my depth with her and sinking fast.

  “Good. Do you have a dress?”

  Stunned, I stammer. “Uh, n-n-n no. I guess I don’t. Why?”

  “If you’re going to be gracing my grandson’s arm tonight, you’re going to look and act like a lady.” She points a finger in my direction, and I know enough about old ladies to know I’m expected to pay attention. “My boy has been through hell. He’s finally himself again, and I won’t have some Yankee girl messin’ him up. You break his heart and you’ll rue the day. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I know there’s no other suitable response.

  “Is that all you have to say?” She clicks her tongue at me, wagging her finger in my direction. “I don’t need to know your intentions, but I would like some reassurance about who you are and what you’re doing with my grandson."

  Realizing the woman misses nothing and probably knows more than I’m comfortable with, I know I have to salvage this. “Drew is . . .” I take a deep breath. Baring my secrets would always be uncomfortable for me. “He’s amazing. I didn’t want to like him. That’s not why I came here. I have my own scars, my own tragic past, and the last thing I
’m looking for is a relationship. I won’t lie to you, ma’am, I don’t know what’s going to happen between myself and your grandson. Maybe a lot, maybe nothing, but I won’t know if I don’t try. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t think Drew would take my rejection lying down. He strikes me as someone who fights for what he wants, and right now, I seem to be what he wants. I have no damn idea why, of course. I’m rude as hell, a total slob, and I have more baggage than an airliner, but he doesn’t seem to mind all that. I don’t know him very well yet, but what I’ve seen so far, I like—a lot. Tonight I intend to get to know him even better. I hope you don’t have a problem with that, but if you do, I guess I’m saying you’ll just have to learn to live with it.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean back on the loveseat and wait for her to throw me out. The sound of her laughter surprises me.

  “Oh, you’ll do just fine. Go get me that notepad and pen. I’ll give you directions to the shop I want you to go to. Something in red, I think. Drew’s partial to red.”

  Stunned into silence, I do as she asks and hand over the supplies. “I don’t have a way to get there. My Jeep is still at the garage.”

  “Oh, posh, you’ll take Drew’s truck. His keys are over there. He always leaves them in here because he’s afraid of them falling out of his pocket.”

  Looking forward to seeing his face when I drive off in his truck, I laugh along with Nana. She has a wicked streak in her that I like immensely. Taking his keys and the directions from Nana, I reach into my pocket and slip on his hat, flipping my long pony tail out the hole in the back. She laughs conspiratorially and pats my shoulder.

  “Remember what I said, get a red dress.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I smile and head out the door, swinging Drew’s keys around on my finger. I glance over to where he’s trimming the grass around the sign out front. Smiling at the sight before me, I hop up into his big, black truck. Starting it up with a roar, I adjust the seat slightly so I can reach the pedals easier. It’s an automatic, which makes sense, as Drew would need two feet to work a clutch.

  Putting it into gear, I drive over by the sign and honk the horn. Drew looks up and spies my elbow hanging out the window and his hat on my head. I’m sure the picture I paint is a sassy one. I smile and wave as I pull out of the lot and turn left. Through the rearview mirror, I see Drew hold up both hands as if to ask what the hell? but I just honk again and drive off, laughing like a maniac.

  A short ten minute drive has me pulling up in front of a small boutique called The Southern Boudoir. My eyes zero in on the dress in the display window. I climb out and walk closer, drawn to the gorgeous piece. It’s a deep red, mid-length sheath. Knowing I have to try it on, I open the door to the shop. The bell over the door jingles merrily.

  “Feel free to look around, I’ll be right out!” A cheerful voice calls from the back of the store.

  “Thanks!” I answer, remembering my manners. Looking back at the dress in the window, I’m surprised to see it’s backless. The open fabric drapes down the sides to pool along the base of the spine. It’s understated and classy, but still very sexy. I decide I have to have it.

  “How can I help you, sweetie?”

  A woman, who must be in her early forties, wearing a fantastic purple wrap dress that looks wonderful against her milk chocolate skin approaches me.

  “I’d like to try on that dress, please.” I point to the display.

  “I wouldn’t let that dress go to just anyone, but you have the figure for it. And the coloring.” She walks around me in a circle, measuring me with her eyes. “I think it will be a perfect fit. What’s the occasion?”

  “A date. A first date actually.” I wasn’t counting the encounter at the bar as a date.

  “Whoever the lucky man is, you’re going to knock his socks off.” She climbs into the window carefully, unzips the dress from the mannequin, and hands it to me.

  The fabric is thick and surprisingly heavy. Its weight feels good, and I know it will drape along my curves beautifully, which gives me a thought. “I need some shoes to match and maybe, if you have it, some lingerie?”

  “Oh, honey, do I ever.” The woman’s laugh is deep and rich, and I find it impossible to resist. “I’m Sally; I own this shop.” She reaches out her hand for me to shake.

  “I’m Meg. I think we’re going to have a great time here today.”

  “Oh, sweetie, we sure are.” Linking her arm through mine, Sally leads me to the back of the shop where racks of lacy underwear and a whole wall of gleaming shoes wait for me to choose from. I don’t try to hold back my grin, thinking of Drew’s face when he sees me tonight. The man is in for a treat.

  Two hours and three hundred dollars later, I leave Sally’s store and drive back to the motel. Parking Drew’s truck where I found it, I grab my bags and his keys. I look around, but don’t see him anywhere.

  His room is next to mine, so I knock twice on his door.

  Drew opens the door a moment later, his hair wet from the shower. He’s dressed in clean shorts, and not wearing a shirt. “Hey, Drew. Here’re your keys back.” I smile broadly, handing them over.

  “Uh-huh. I assume Nana told you to take it, right?”

  “Right. I had some shopping to do.” I lift the bags so he can see the logo on the side. “I have this date tonight, so I want to make sure I look good.”

  Chuckling, he tosses the keys onto the table behind him and I catch a glimpse of his room. What I assumed would be like mine, is, in fact, very different. It’s much larger and I figure he knocked down the wall between two rooms to make it into one living space. He has a small efficiency style kitchen, a living room with a flat screen TV, and it appears his bedroom and bathroom are in the back. The apartment is decorated in grey stone and white wood accents. There are a few pops of green from plants and a large print on the wall.

  “Your room looks great,” I say as I switch my bags from one hand to the other. Why am I so nervous?

  “Thanks. What did you and Nana talk about?”

  “Oh, you know. The usual.” My attempt at nonchalance fails.

  “Uh-huh. What did you buy?” He puts a fingertip in one bag, trying to peek inside.

  I jerk it back, my face heating. That particular bag holds the lingerie I bought. “You have to wait and see. It’s a surprise.”

  “Normally, I would say I hate surprises, but I think I might like this one.” He grins before reaching out and retrieving his hat. “Thanks for my hat back.” He slips it on backward, frowning as he adjusts it. “Your hair messed it up.”

  “It was worth it. You think I’m cute in your hat.” I smile slyly, retreating back a step. He is tempting, but I have lots of primping to do. A nap would be nice also.

  “That I do.” He tries to grab my wrist, but I step out of his reach.

  “No way. If you touch me, we’ll never make it to dinner. I have serious girl stuff to do.” Pulling my key out, I wag a finger at him. “You stay over there. I won’t let you distract me.”

  “You want to be distracted.” He leans his shoulders against the doorway. “You like it and you know it.”

  “Maybe,” I concede, opening my own door. “But if you want to see me in the things in this bag, you’ll stay on your side of the wall.”

  “Yes ma’am, wouldn’t want to miss out on that.” Winking, he closes his door firmly.

  Chapter 12

  Meg

  I look at myself in the mirror, as satisfied as possible without the services of a salon. I pulled my hair up and back into a sleek power bun, leaving a few strands of hair loose at my temples. It’s sexy in its simplicity. I didn’t want anything distracting from the dress. The red fabric drapes across my body, sensual as a lover’s caress. Turning sideways, I look at the back; my skin is bare almost to my bottom. I forgo jewelry other than a pair of long, silver earrings.

  Sheer hose cover my legs and my feet are strapped into tall, black heels made of shiny patent leather with rounded toes and sling backs. I turn back
and forth some more, double checking that I can’t see my lingerie under the dress. I have on a black lace garter belt set with a matching thong. The dress doesn’t allow for a bra. Thankfully, my bust is small enough I can go without. My makeup is simple, I only darkened my eyes a little more than normal. Bright red lipstick matching the dress completes my look. I also purchased a small silver clutch to keep my room key and lipstick in, and as Drew had asked, no money is inside.

  The moment the clock on the bedside turns over to seven there’s a knock on my door. My palms grow sweaty and my heart begins to race.

  “Stop being an idiot. This isn’t the first date you’ve ever been on.” It is the first date since Brandon, though. Checking my appearance one last time, I bare my teeth quickly, ensuring I don’t have lipstick on them, and open the door.

  Drew takes my breath away. He’s wearing pressed khaki slacks, the crease down the leg sharp and clean, and a royal blue button up paired with a silver tie. He styled his hair slightly, but a few locks still escape to fall across his brow.

  “Wow,” I say dumbly, at a total loss for words. The breeze blows against him, sending a hint of sandalwood and pine to my nose. The scent entices me, and I want nothing more than to wake up in the morning with his smell all over my skin.

  “Meg, you’re . . .” He places his hand over his heart. “You honor me. You look gorgeous.”

  “Damn right I do.” I wink saucily and step forward, into his space.

  His laugh breaks the tension and he offers me his arm. “Shall we?”

  “Lead the way, baby.” The endearment slips out before I have a chance to stop myself, but seeing the look on his face, I decide I’m going to keep calling him baby. My baby.

  Chapter 13

  Drew

  Fine dining wasn’t really an option in Green Springs, and Drew didn’t want to venture too far from the motel, so he decided to take Meg to Leo’s Italian Place for dinner. The sparks between them earlier in the afternoon had continued to ratchet up, especially once he saw what Meg had been hiding in those bags. When he picked her up, he just about lost his mind. She looked red hot, and he was ready to play with fire.