Best of Intentions: A Best Friend's Brother Standalone Romance

by LK Farlow

  “Just, uh, let me know your schedule at Bennet’s, and we’ll work around it.”

  “Will do.” I rise from my chair and exit his office, bypassing my section and heading straight for the restroom. I need to get a freaking grip.

  A few deep breaths and a splash of cold water later, and I’m ready to head back out onto the floor. What I’m not ready for is the sight of Nate and Duke seated in my section. Can’t a girl catch a freaking break?

  chapter fifteen

  Nate

  Jenny’s face when she sees Duke and I seated in her section is comical. Her eyes are all wide and her lips—her sexy, kissable lips—form a perfect O.

  “You stare any harder, you’re gonna give yourself an aneurysm,” Duke says, smirking. “Stare any longer, and you’re at serious risk for creeper territory.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” I murmur back, distractedly. How is it that she seems to look even more beautiful now than she did yesterday?

  As she approaches the table, I keep my stare locked on her. With each step closer, I’m transfixed by the sway of her hips and the bounce of her tits. She’s a fucking goddess, far too good for the likes of me, placed in my path as a form of punishment for the sins of my past—that much I am sure of.

  Even still, I want her. What scares me is the fact that my desire goes far beyond the carnal kind. I want her words, her thoughts, her laughter…her fucking soul. I’ll never go for it though; even I’m not that much of a bastard.

  “H-hello there, boys,” she greets us, her voice noticeably lacking its usual pep.

  Sitting up straighter in my seat, I study her. Her cheeks are pink and splotchy. The tip of her nose is red. Her eyes and smile are watery at best. My GG’s upset, and I don’t fucking like it. Not one bit.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, skipping any and all pleasantries.

  “Nothing.” She shakes her head a few times. “What can I get y’all to drink?”

  I’m gearing up to press her for answers when Duke speaks over me. “I’ll take whatever beer you recommend.”

  “What about you, Nate?”

  “Same.”

  “Great.”

  I glare at my partner as she turns and saunters off to get our drinks. He quickly holds his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Dude. Your girl looked about two seconds away from bawling. I get you wanna check on her and shit but now’s not the time or place. You can’t go starting shit at her job, brother.”

  “Wasn’t gonna start nothing.” My voice sounds sullen even to my own ears.

  “Not on purpose, maybe. But shit talking and bickering is y’all’s own fucked-up love language. It would’ve happened regardless.”

  “So, what do I do? I can tell she’s upset about something.”

  “Simple…you give her a reason to smile.”

  The fact that my thoughts immediately divert to the gutter is not a surprise. I can think of lots of ways to make her smile…just none of them are appropriate for the setting.

  “Not like that, dumbass. I meant with your words and your charm—not your dick.”

  “Don’t need my dick to get a smile. I can use my fingers, my tongue…” A shadow falls over our table and my words dry up.

  Jenny lets out an overly fake cough. “As interesting as this conversation seems to be, I’m just gonna leave these here and let y’all look over the menu.”

  She scampers off before either of us can stop her.

  Duke cracks up. “That went well.”

  “Shut up.”

  We fall into silence as we peruse the menu. Well, Duke looks it over; I’m too busy forming a plan to not make an utter ass of myself when she returns.

  Duke is the first to break the silence. “You know she brought us each a different beer?”

  I glance from my bottle to his. “Huh, so she did.”

  “Weird, right? Since we both asked for whatever she suggested.”

  “Maybe she has two favorites?” I suggest.

  “Asking her would be a good, safe, neutral question.” He raises his brows and tips his beer toward me before taking a sip. “Damn, that’s delicious.”

  “Glad you like it,” Jenny says proudly, rejoining us. “Y’all decide whatcha want to eat?”

  “Yeah, we did. But I’ve got a question for you.”

  “About the menu?”

  I shake my head.

  “Then what?”

  “Why’d you bring us each a different beer?”

  She smiles, and my heart clenches. Who am I and what are these feelings? Where did they come from? “I brought Duke an American stout because he seems contemplative and intelligent—like the kind of guy who enjoys a sipping beer.”

  “Okay, so then why did you bring me an IPA?”

  Her smile ratchets up a notch. “Because IPAs have a bold, bitter flavor that’s an acquired taste for most, and hot damn Nate Reynolds, if that isn’t you to a T, then I don’t know what is.”

  I grin back, loving this teasing side of her. “What about you, Jenny? What do you drink?”

  “As much as I’d like to say something exciting, we both know I tend to play things pretty safe. I’m an amber kind of girl.”

  I nod thoughtfully. “I can see that, GG. Plus, aren’t ambers supposed to be a little sweet?”

  “Slightly fruity with caramel flavors, usually,” she elaborates.

  With hooded eyes, I lick my lips and say, “Yeah, GG, that fits you real good.”

  Seemingly flustered, she changes the subject. “So, what’ll y’all have to eat?”

  I mutter the word you under my breath before speaking up. “I’ll take the special.”

  Duke’s phone buzzes on the table. “Shit, I gotta run. Nancy needs me.”

  My heart thuds in my chest at the mention of his almost-mother-in-law’s name. “Shit. Is everything okay?”

  He shakes his head. “I…I don’t know. Darryl texted me saying he can’t get her to come out of her room. I’ll catch y’all later.”

  I slide out from my side of the booth and wrap him in a hug, not giving a fuck how we look or what anyone thinks. I know he loves Nancy like a mother, but also know these calls and visits really drain him. “Call me if you need me, no matter the time,” I tell him as we break apart, meaning every word.

  Duke nods stiffly before heading for the exit with his shoulders slumped.

  Jenny nibbles her lower lip in worry. “Is…is he okay?”

  I shrug. “Difficult to say. It’s always hard on him when they call.”

  “Who are they? No, never mind. That’s not any of my business. Let me go ring your order in.” She scampers off, not giving me the time to stop her.

  I mess around on my phone while I wait for Jenny to return. I fire off a quick text to Duke reminding him that I’m here if he needs me; unsurprisingly, it goes unanswered.

  “Look what the cat dragged in.” Glancing up, I see Alden claiming the seat Duke vacated.

  “ ‘Sup?”

  He suppresses a grin. “Anyone ever tell you that you have quite the way with words? A real conversationalist.”

  “Fuck off,” I mumble before polishing off the last of the IPA Jenny brought me.

  Alden nods toward it. “You like?”

  “Definitely.”

  “It’s a local brew, small batches and organic.” He launches into the finer details of it—things I don’t give a shit about, but I listen dutifully, because that’s what friends do. After a few minutes, he laughs. “You’re not hearing a thing I’m saying, are you?”

  “I’m listening!”

  “Listening and hearing aren’t the same.”

  Now I’m laughing. “You’re such a dad.”

  “Hell yeah, I am.” He thumps his fist against his chest. “So, what brings you by? This isn’t your usual Wednesday dinner spot.”

  Evade! Evade! my brain screams. “Just felt like switching it up.”

  “Bullshit,” he coughs into his fist. “I’d put money down that you stopped by t
o see a certain waitress of mine.”

  Perceptive fucker. “Maybe.”

  “Tell you what, be real with me, and I’ll cut her shift so she can join you.”

  And he knows just how to bait me…I may as well be a fish on his hook. “Yeah, I’m here to see Jenny.” Alden drums his fingers against the tabletop, waiting on me to elaborate. “Because-I-might-be-into-her,” I mumble the words out all together as one, but he hears me just fine just by the wide, cheesy grin splitting his cheeks.

  “Ain’t no might about it,” he says, sounding all too pleased. “Hang tight and your dinner and dining companion will be out soon.”

  About fifteen minutes later, Jenny returns, frowning with two plates in hand. I know it’s shitty of me, but I can’t help but find a little bit of amusement in her obvious displeasure.

  “Why the long face, GG?” I ask as she claims the seat opposite of me.

  Instead of answering my question, she asks one of her own. “Why do you call me that? What does it mean?”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “I…honestly don’t know.”

  “Tough luck. Let’s eat.” I dig into the food Jenny placed before me. “Fuck, this is good. What is it?”

  “It’s a play on fried chicken. Instead of a heavy batter, it’s tossed in panko bread crumbs, which keep it nice and light but still crispy.”

  I shovel a forkful of the au gratin potatoes into my mouth, followed by a few spears of the asparagus. “It’s phenomenal. What’s the sauce?”

  Jenny’s eyes light up. “It’s a sriracha butter pan sauce. Good, right?”

  “Good’s not the right word. I could bathe in this shit, GG.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I’ll let Darren and Javier know.”

  “Something tells me you had something to do with it—the way you perked up in your seat. Spill.”

  Her cheeks turn that pretty shade of pink I love so much. “Not really. I just suggested a different shallot to garlic ratio.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  “Well, it’s amazing. Like you.”

  “Don’t feed me your lines, Nate Reynolds. You’ve already gotten into my pants. Twice.”

  “I hear the third time’s a charm…” I smirk, and she rolls her eyes, my cocky come-on rolling right off her like water off of a duck’s back.

  Throughout the rest of our meal, we trade random stories between bites. Once we’ve both devoured every last bite, Jenny asks if I want dessert. Hello gutter, nice to see you again.

  “Nate. Did you hear me?”

  Nope. Too busy imagining feasting on you to listen. Try again later.

  It’s not until she kicks me under the table that I snap out of it. “Huh? Ow! The hell was that for?”

  “I’ve been trying to get your attention for at least two minutes while you were off in La-La Land. Where’d you go, anyway?”

  “You really wanna know, GG?”

  Jenny sits up a little taller in her seat. “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

  I debate telling her the truth for all of five seconds before deciding to go for it. Even if she shoots me down, I like watching her squirm. “I was thinking about what you asked me, and to answer, yes I would very much like dessert. Only, what I’m craving isn’t on the menu.”

  “I’m sure I can get Darren to make—”

  I lean forward, reach across the table, and press my index finger to her plump lips, silencing her.

  “Only you can give me what I want.” Her sharp, shuddered inhale tells me she’s turned on or pissed off—please let it be the former and not the latter. “So, tell me, are you?”

  Slowly, I drag my finger toward her chin, tugging her bottom lip down. Her breathing is heavy, and her pupils dilated. She’s totally turned on.

  “Am I gonna what?” she whispers, her tongue darting out to trace over where I slid my finger against her lips. No lie, I just about come undone.

  “Are you gonna give me what I want? What I crave?”

  She leans closer, the only thing separating us is this damn table. “What do you crave?”

  “You,” I answer simply, trying my damnedest to act cool, like I’m not ready to claim her right here on this damn tabletop for everyone to see.

  Jenny shoots me a coy smile. “Then let’s get out of here.”

  chapter sixteen

  Jenny

  My bold words shock both of us. Probably me more than him, judging by the way he wastes no time leaping up from the booth. He grabs my hand and hauls me up and starts hightailing it for the door.

  “Nate.” He keeps on going. “Nate!”

  “Huh?”

  “I need to get my stuff.”

  “Oh, okay. Yeah.”

  But he doesn’t release my hand from his. I tug against his hold. He offers me a chagrinned smile and lets go. “I’ll wait up front.”

  I quickly grab my purse, knowing that if I hesitate, my common sense will return. Really, that’s the thing about men like Nate Reynolds. They’re so damn attractive and so unfairly charming that they rob women of their practicality—and it’s not even anything they do, it’s just inherently who they are.

  Up front, I find Nate chatting with Alden. “Ready?” I ask, interrupting them.

  “God, yes,” Nate murmurs, retaking my hand and pulling me toward the door.

  “You two be safe,” Alden calls after us, his smile audible.

  “Come home with me,” Nate asks once we’re outside. I nod and he steers me toward his vehicle.

  The ride to his house is simultaneously the shortest and longest of my life. The entire drive is a battle of wills. He’s hell-bent on teasing me, and I’m dead-set on acting unaffected.

  But when his warm hand lands on my pant-covered leg and his thumb begins rubbing slow, teasing circles, it’s game over. I’m so turned on, I may as well already be naked and spread out before him.

  My breathing accelerates as his hand creeps higher. I come dangerously close to passing out when his thumb brushes against the apex of my thighs. On his second pass, he applies more pressure, causing a moan to slip past my lips.

  I chance a glance over at him, and the smug bastard is smiling like he knows all the secrets to the universe.

  By the time we pull into his driveway, he’s worked me into a frenzy of want and need. I’m so out of my mind with lust for this man that I’m on him the second he shifts the car into park.

  As if he anticipated my reaction, he pulls the lever, shoving his seat as far back as it’ll go, and hauls me over the console into his lap. We meet in a clash of hungry lips and roaming hands.

  Nate thrusts his denim-clad erection against me, and I roll my hips over his, desperate for more friction. He palms my breasts and kisses his way down my neck while I tug on his silky hair, guiding his movements.

  Still wanting more, I pull away from him just long enough to tear my shirt over my head. Just as quickly, he strips me of my bra, laving his tongue over one pebbled nipple before moving to the other.

  In less than five minutes, he’s reduced me to a writhing, wanton ball of need.

  “You feel so good, Jenny.” He speaks the words against my heated skin as he kisses his way back up to my lips.

  But all of the sudden, I have other ideas, and I climb off of his lap and into the back seat. Nate, being the smart man that he is, wastes no time joining me. With brave hands, I reach over and undo his button and zipper, freeing him from the confines of his jeans.

  Not giving myself time to back down or him time to question me, I dive toward his lap and take his length into my mouth. My self-consciousness melts away as he moans and threads his fingers through my hair.

  “Jesus, GG. Fuck.” He groans out the words and they only spur me on. I want to reduce him to nothing more than goo—the way he does me. I take him as deep as I can, and he drives his hips forward, pushing himself just a bit further.

  I moan at the sensation, hovering somewhere between pleasure and pain, and when he realizes
I like it, he continues pistoning his hips forward until I’ve wrung every last drop of pleasure from him.

  Until tonight, I’ve always imagined a blowjob would be degrading, but here and now, I feel powerful—invincible even. And the feeling only intensifies when Nate skims his fingers along my jaw. “That was…damn, Jenny.”

  I smile shyly.

  “Let’s go inside?” he asks, trailing his fingers down the line of my neck.

  I nod, and he leans into the front seat, grabbing my discarded clothing as well as my bag. I tug my shirt over my head, stuffing my bra into my purse, because what’s the point of adding one more layer between us if he’s only going to remove it again?

  Nate guides me from his car to the front door with a hand pressed to the small of my back. As much as what just went down in the car turns me on, it’s these little touches that really light me up, because to me, they say he cares more than he lets on. I’m sure that’s me reading too deep into things, but a girl’s allowed her fantasies, right?

  “You want a drink?” he asks as he locks the front door behind us.

  “Sure.” I follow behind him, taking stock of his place. It’s definitely not the bachelor pad I’ve always envisioned. The flooring is a pretty oak, and the walls are a soft sort of oatmeal color, with thick, glossy white trim. There are built-in shelves in the entryway, as well as along one of the walls in the living room.

  I was fully expecting week-old pizza boxes and mismatched thrift store furniture. Instead, everything’s thoughtfully decorated in shades of light blue and gray. Hell, he even has throw pillows and art on the walls—I feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate universe. This is not the home of a late-twenties single man; it’s a family home—a forever home…too bad he’s made it clear that he’s not my forever.

  I take my time finding the kitchen, admiring the knickknacks, books, and family pictures lining the shelves of his built-ins. When I make it into the kitchen, Nate has already made us each a glass of ice water.

  I chug the icy-cold liquid down in three greedy gulps—who knew giving head would make a girl so thirsty? “Want some more?” Nate asks.

  “Yes, please.”