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

by LK Farlow

  She’s dressed in a white tank top that hugs her chest and cutoff denim shorts so tiny they could pass for panties, with a plaid shirt tied around her waist and red Keds on her feet. I’m honestly not sure which is worse—this or the towel.

  “You ready?”

  “Mmhmm,” I hum, trying my best not to drool at the sight of her sexy, toned, tan legs. For a girl on the shorter side, they look a mile long. Memories of how they feel wrapped around my waist and shoulders fight their way to the front of my mind.

  When I make no move to stand, she pops a brow at me. “’Kay…you gonna stand up?”

  “Yeah, just give me a minute, GG.” Speeding tickets, DUIs, perp walks, home invasions, vandalism, drunk and disorderlies. Finally, I feel steady enough to stand. “Let’s go.”

  She studies me, her head tilted to the side. For a split second, I worry she’s going to call me on my shit. I release a heavy exhale when instead she says, “Ready to have your ass handed to you on the track?”

  Damn, I love her sassy mouth. “You do realize defensive driving is literally part of my job description, right?”

  She brushes off my words and sashays out the door like she has not a worry in the world. I follow behind her, more than excited to gloat when I leave her cute little ass in my dust on the first lap.

  “I can’t believe you fucking beat me,” I complain for at least the fiftieth time since our race. “Seriously, how? Did you slip the kid some money to give me a slower go-kart?”

  Jenny giggles, and damn if it isn’t the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. “Nate Reynolds, a sore loser. Who would’ve guessed it?”

  “I’m not a sore loser. You’re a cheater.” I wrap an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my side as we follow the path from the kart return to the on-site ice cream shop.

  She laughs harder. “And how, pray tell, did I cheat?”

  “Hell if I know. Probably some kind of witchcraft.”

  “So now I’m a witch?” she cries in mock outrage, shoving away from me.

  But I don’t let her get far, lacing our fingers together holding her hand in mine. Do friends hold hands? Maybe so, because she doesn’t pull away. “Hell if I know, Jenny Jones, but you’ve sure as shit cast a spell over me.”

  A brilliant smile lights up her face as she looks at me. “C’mon, I’ll treat you to ice cream to make up for my witchy ways.”

  I knock my shoulder into hers. “Sounds fair,” I concede even though I have no intention of letting her pay.

  Turns out getting ice cream was the worst idea ever. I thought I was safe when she ordered a cup of lemon sorbetto, but watching her lick and suck the spoon is pure torture. I have to suppress a groan with every bite she takes.

  “Oh, wow, that was so good,” she moans as she polishes off the last of her frozen treat. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

  “You work tonight, right?”

  “Yup. Four to close.”

  “Then I guess I’ll be chilling at Bennet’s.”

  She rolls her lips inward. “You don’t have to—”

  I don’t give her a chance to protest. “I want to.” She nods, letting the subject drop. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

  The drive to Jenny’s passes in the blink of an eye. Even though I know I’m going to see her tonight, I’m not ready for our time together today to end. At the bar, I’ll have to share her with a room full of people, so I want to soak up as much one-on-one time with her as possible.

  As if she’s reading my thoughts, she asks, “You wanna come in and watch a movie?”

  I make a big show of checking the time, not wanting to look too eager. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

  Inside, I throw myself down onto her couch, pulling her down with me. I land on my back, with her body partially draping over mine. The weight of her on top of me feels like the best kind of agony. She tries to move off of me, but I roll, turning us so that I’m on my side. She’s facing me, her head resting on my arm.

  “Stay. I’m comfy.”

  “Can I at least roll so I can reach the remote and you know…see the TV?”

  I let out a long, overly dramatic sigh. “I guess. Needy.”

  Jenny grins and rearranges herself so that her back is to my front, making sure to keep a little space between our bodies. She leans forward slightly and grabs the remote from the coffee table and hits the power button. Not bothering to check what’s playing, she tosses the clicker back down and relaxes into me. Within minutes, we’re both out cold.

  chapter twenty-two

  Jenny

  Waking up next to Nate Reynolds is something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Obviously, I don’t have much to compare it to, but something tells me the feelings rushing through me aren’t the norm. The way his strong arms hold me close, combined with how his leg is wedged between mine, has me walking the line between feeling safe in his embrace and turned on enough to rub up against him like a cat in heat.

  I attempt to move out of his arms, but he yanks me back into him, nuzzling his face into my neck. “Five more minutes, GG,” he murmurs, his warm breath skating over my skin.

  I glance up to the clock on the wall—it’s three. I really need to get ready for my shift at the bar, but the comfort I feel in Nate’s arms has me agreeing all too easily.

  “If you could be any animal, what would you be?” Nate asks, his voice still gravelly and thick with sleep. Leave it to him to make tired sound erotic.

  “Random. But I’ll humor you. I’d be…” I pause, really wracking my brain. “This is going to sound so lame, but I’d be a cat.”

  He stretches out his body, yawning. The action presses us closer together and I have to suppress a shiver. “Like a jungle cat?”

  Twisting, I turn my upper body so I can see him. “No, like a house cat.”

  He smirks. “You’re a weird girl, Jenny.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re one of my best friends, so what does that say about you? I believe the saying is it takes one to know one.”

  He flexes his hips forward, retreating just as quickly. Still, it was more than enough time for me to feel his post-nap erection dig into my bottom. “I might be weird, but I’m definitely not a girl.”

  I try and play it off, like the feel of him doesn’t make me want to jump his bones. “You loser.” I shake out of his hold. “I gotta get ready for work. I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Why don’t I just stick around, and we can head over together?”

  I blink at him a few times. “You do realize if we do that you won’t be able to leave…if you…meet someone.” Ugh. The very thought of watching him walk out of those doors with a woman—the thought of him taking her home and worshiping her body the way he did mine—makes me feel ill, but I know it’s bound to happen.

  “Aw, GG, are you worried about my sex life?”

  Even with the playful delivery, his question stings. Because while I’m basically a nun, he still has an active and healthy sex life. Get a grip, girl, this is what you wanted.

  “Ha!” I laugh him off. “You wish.”

  He licks across his bottom lip, searing me with his dark brown eyes. “Go get changed. I’m driving you, and that’s final.”

  His authoritative tone has heat unfurling low in my belly. “Yes, sir.”

  He winks. “Good girl.”

  Ever since the night Nate drove me to work, he’s made it his mission to be at the bar for every shift of mine that he’s not working. Some nights, he lets me test drink recipes on him, other nights he sips on water and basically loiters until I’m off the clock. Occasionally he brings me dinner.

  From time to time, one or two of his buddies will join him—those nights are my favorite, because as much as I love our one-on-one time, I really love seeing him joke around with his boys. Not to mention, they’re always more than willing to help me pick on him.

  Plenty of women approach him. Some of them are so over-the-top stunning that my heart lodges in my throat,
because it’s only a matter of time before one of them sways him off of his stool and into bed. But strangely, he never flirts back with any of them.

  On the same token, he doesn’t let any guys flirt with me. It’s like he’s decided since he can’t have me, no one can. Not that I’d go home with any of them—I mean, my Lord, I’ve been with all of two people in my entire life—I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to add another notch to my bedpost. If anything, sleeping with Nate and trying to keep things casual only reinforced that I’m a relationship kind of girl. For me, sex and emotions go hand-in-hand. So, no bar hookups for me.

  Guard dog tendencies and repressed feelings aside, having Nate as a friend definitely has its perks. Like today, for example, he’s invited me to tag along to the police department’s annual Memorial Day picnic.

  He’s due to pick me up in thirty minutes, but knowing him, he’ll be early. Meaning, I need to get my ass in gear and get dressed. It feels like I’ve tried on every stitch of clothing I own—twice. For a picnic. A freaking picnic. The man’s seen me naked, he’s seen me dressed to the nines, and everything in between; yet here I am, obsessing over what to wear. As sad as it is, I want to look good for him.

  Finally, I admit defeat. It’s time to call in reinforcements. Grabbing my phone, I video call the one person I know won’t lead me astray—my cousin Jamie.

  He answers almost instantly, his handsome, chiseled face filling my screen. “Jenny-cake, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  I shrug defeatedly. “I need help.”

  “With what? I’m not a mind reader.”

  “I need outfit advice. Nate invited me to a picnic and—”

  Jamie squeals in the most unmanly fashion. “Are y’all finally together?”

  “Nope. Just friends.”

  “Oh. Well, then obviously you need to make that man’s tongue wag.”

  “Jamie, he’s seen me butt naked—I doubt there’s some miracle outfit—”

  “Hush and let me work my magic, woman. Throw on a pair of Nike shorts, a strappy sports bra, and a loose-fitting tank that shows off said bra. Tie your hair up in a high ponytail and put a little blush on your cheeks and some gloss on your lips.”

  “Really?” I ask, my skepticism clearly written on my face.

  “Really, really. Low-key sexy is in, girl.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Jamie-pop.”

  He flips his imaginary hair. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  We end our call, and I immediately follow his instructions. A quick glance in the mirror tells me my cousin dearest definitely knows what he’s talking about. I look casual and attractive all at once—the walking embodiment of I woke up like this. Hopefully Nate likes what he sees as well.

  Judging by the sound of my front door opening—yes, we’re past the point of knocking—I’m about to find out. “GG, you ready?” Nate hollers from my living room.

  “Well, I would be if you weren’t” —I check the time on my phone— “fifteen minutes early!”

  His heavy footsteps sound as he climbs the stairs. “Couldn’t wait to see—” His words drop off like a cliff. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip as he stares at me. “Damn, Jenny.”

  Playing it clueless, I twist a strand from my long ponytail around my finger. “What? The mess?” I nod my head toward my clothes-covered bed.

  Nate steps closer to me. “What mess? All I can see is you.”

  His words light a fire in me, and I can’t help but to push a little more. Spinning, I give him my back, revealing the way my shirt is cut to expose most of it, along with the crisscrossing straps to my bralette. “You’re not so bad yourself, cutie.”

  He groans, and I do a mental fist pump. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  “I have no idea what you mean. It’s just shorts and a tank top.” He grumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot like bullshit. “I’m just gonna slather on some sunscreen and then we can go.”

  Nate clears a spot on my bed and plops down onto the mattress while I grab my SPF 50. I make quick work of rubbing the lotion into my arms and shoulders but decide to mess with him a little when I do my legs.

  With my back still facing him, I bend at the waist, making sure to pop my ass out just a smidge. Slowly, I work the sunblock into the skin of my right leg. A quick glance toward the bed shows me that Nate’s not only watching, he’s enthralled. I move to my left leg, giving it the same treatment, prolonging my little show. Finally, he’s had enough.

  “Stand up, Jenny.” His tone is harsh, and I snap to attention. “Face me,” he commands, and like a good little girl, I do. “Give me the bottle.” The dark tenor of his voice has me reacting on autopilot—he sounds so lethal and sexy, as if he’s completely in control and barely restrained all at once.

  Sitting at the edge of my bed, he spreads his legs apart. “Come closer.” I step into the space between his knees. He squirts a dollop of lotion into the palm of his right hand and tosses the bottle onto the floor behind me, causing anticipation to snake up my spine.

  With his free hand, he grabs the hem of my shirt and tugs me closer still so that the end of my bed is flush against my legs. He snakes his left hand beneath my shirt, moving it far enough away from my body for his right hand to join. His arms encircle my waist and his hands meet my skin—the cold sunscreen a shock against my heated flesh.

  I release a breathy gasp at the sensation, followed by a whimper as he begins massaging the cream into the skin of my back. His fingers sensuously knead and caress, reducing me to a trembling pile of need.

  As his hands move higher, skimming over the dips in my waist, I swear I almost say fuck it and climb onto his lap. But, we’re only friends, so I suppress the urge and count down from one hundred in my head. Things are going great until he skims his fingers just beneath my breasts right when I hit 69.

  Sweet mercy, take me now. Nate has me so turned on that I can hardly breathe. Right as I’m about to give in to my urges—because, really, why do I need Nate as a friend when I can ride him like a stallion instead?—he withdraws his hands from my body.

  “There.” He stands, forcing me to take a step back. “Wouldn’t want your back to burn, would we? Let’s roll, time’s a wasting.” He moves around me and trots down the stairs like he didn’t just almost get me off from his touch alone.

  Nate: 1, Jenny: 0.

  chapter twenty-three

  Nate

  This entire day is going to be a test of my patience. From the minute I woke up from a dirty dream involving me doing unspeakable things to Jenny in my gym’s locker room—weird as hell because she’s never even been there—I just knew. And then I show up at her house to find her dressed in damn near the outfit I ripped off of her in the gym shower during my slumber…shit has to be some kind of omen.

  And then she started teasing me, wiggling her pert little ass right in my face and running her hands all over her gorgeous legs. It was all I could do to stop myself from throwing her down onto her messy bed and reminding her just how good we are together. However, with Herculean strength, I was able to not only resist but to turn the tables as well. Who knew sunscreen could be so sexy?

  “You ready for some fun?” I ask, guiding my car into the designated parking area.

  “What kind of fun are we talking?”

  “Aside from good food, there are games.”

  Jenny scrunches up her cute little nose. “What kind of games?”

  “Water balloon toss, tug-o’-war, sack races—field day stuff.”

  Jenny rubs her hands together. “Oh, this will be fun!”

  I throw the car into park and turn to her. “Are you competitive, GG?”

  “You don’t even know.”

  After watching Jenny kick ass in ring toss and the obstacle course the chief set up, I can safely say she is ridiculously competitive—she can also talk shit with the best of them. Girl can also put away some barbecue like nobody’s business. Honestly, I don’t know where s
he puts it all.

  Currently, we’re seated side by side on a blanket, relaxing while watching some of the guys play tug-o’-war. Well, I’m relaxing. Jenny is screaming like a banshee, cheering on Duke’s team.

  “Pull! Harder!” She leans forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “C’mon! Don’t tell me all those muscles are just for show!”

  Spurred on by her cheerleading, the guys on Duke’s team all give one final hard tug, pulling the middle of the rope over the marker, declaring them the victors. Jenny springs to her feet as a chorus of ­hell yeahs ring out, her voice being one of the loudest.

  Here, in this moment—this completely insignificant moment—I’m struck with the desire to make her mine. And I don’t just mean between the sheets. Jenny Jones is damn near perfect, and my desire for her is slowly beginning to override my fear of destroying her.

  I mean, we’ve managed being friends…so why couldn’t we be more? My family already loves her, she gels with my boys like she’s known them her whole life, and she accepts me. My brain whispers that I’m no good for her, that I’ll only hurt her, that she can’t accept my scars because she doesn’t even know what they are, but my heart is fucking shouting to me that if I don’t at least try, I’ll regret it forever. And I’m not sure I’m willing to live with anymore regrets.

  In fact, I’m not even willing to wait.

  Bringing my thumb and index finger to my lips, I let out a sharp whistle, grabbing the celebrating group’s attention as a whole, but it’s only hers I want. “Jenny!” I beckon her my way. “Need to talk to you.”

  She worries her lip between her teeth as she steps toward me. “Is…is everything okay?”

  I shake my head and lace my fingers with hers. “Not even remotely.”

  “Wh-what’s wrong?” she asks. “You’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

  “I’m about to be,” I murmur before wrapping her long ponytail around my fist and crashing my lips to hers. She freezes against me for a split second before melting into my touch. She pushes herself up onto her tiptoes, bringing us closer, as her arms encircle my neck.