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

by LK Farlow

  I shed my remaining clothes and crawl onto the bed between her legs—she doesn’t have to ask me twice. Finally, we’re skin to skin, and I groan low in my throat as she threads her fingers through my hair. I seal my lips against hers, and I can feel how ready she is for me as I thrust against her.

  “Please, Nate. Please.”

  I roll us so she’s on top, careful to not displace her pump. “Ride me,” I command, expecting her to blush and go shy on me. Instead, she braces her hands on my chest and sinks down onto me. “You feel so good. So, so, good, GG.”

  She circles her hips in slow, controlled movements, seemingly hell-bent on driving me crazy. And, oh, God, is it working. A small moan leaves her lips, and she picks up her pace. Finally, when I can’t take it a second longer, I palm her hips and guide her movements, meeting her thrust for thrust until we’re both on the edge of bliss.

  “Kiss me,” she begs, leaning down toward me. The moment our lips meet, she clenches around me, calling out my name as she topples over the edge, with me right behind her.

  Minutes later, Jenny is still slumped in a heap on my chest with my arms wrapped around her, holding her close. “I…that was…thank you, Jenny.”

  She stirs against me before rolling off me. I follow after her so that we’re facing one another. Her once-soft curls are now a mess from my fingers, her eye makeup is smudged, and her skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat; she’s never looked more stunning than she does right now.

  “Did you just thank me for fucking you?”

  I pin her with a glare. “That was so much more than fucking, GG. That was…hell, I don’t know, the creation of new planets or something.”

  Jenny laughs at my ineloquent declaration. “Yeah, cutie, you’re right. That was something special.” She blinks at me, words clearly forming on the tip of her tongue.

  “What’s on your mind?” I probe, brushing her hair from her face.

  “We didn’t use protection. I…I’m on the pill though, so you don’t have to worry or anything.”

  I cringe at my thoughtlessness. “I’m so sorr—”

  She cuts me off. “Don’t apologize. I wanted it just as badly as you did. As long as you’re clean, no worries.”

  “Then we’re good.” I drop a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.”

  Jenny pinches her eyes closed, hesitating briefly. I already know she’s recalling the last time we slept together and waking up without me.

  “I swear I’ll be here in the morning. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  She nods, seemingly soothed by my words. But words are only words, and I plan on proving how I feel about her through my actions.

  chapter twenty-six

  Jenny

  The first thing I notice as I lazily blink myself awake is Nate’s warm body ensconcing mine. I sigh happily as I commit this moment to my memory in vivid detail. And while this isn’t my first time waking up with him, it’s different now that we’re together. Being tucked in my sheets, with sunlight filtering in through the skylight while wrapped safely in Nate’s arms, is easily one of my top-five favorite things—it’s up there with cute puppies, coffee, and the smell of a new book. As I lie here, my body still deliciously sore from last night, I can’t help but wonder what made him change his mind about me—about us.

  Yesterday, he said he wanted all of me, and I believe him; but for how long and in what capacity? Are we…together…exclusively? Is he in this for the long haul or am I a fleeting fancy?

  “Jenny,” he grumbles, his morning voice grating me like sex and sandpaper. “I can feel you worrying from here.”

  “I’m not worrying,” I lie. “I’m thinking.”

  “About what? Talk to me.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Don’t do that—don’t minimize your feelings because you’re worried about how I’ll react. That’s no way to start off a relationship.”

  “Is that…are we in a relationship?”

  Nate snuggles closer to me, tucking his head into the crook of my neck. “Damn straight we are. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” He tilts his face toward mine and brushes his lips against my temple before sitting up. “I’m not good at this shit, Jenny, but you make me want to try. There’s stuff in my past that I’m fully ready to talk about, but you make me see past all of my hurt. I’m sure I’ll mess up, but don’t give up on me, okay?”

  The honesty of his words wraps around my heart, cocooning it with a warmth I’ve never felt before. “I’ll always fight for you—for us. And I won’t push you to talk until you’re ready; plus, it’s not like you killed someone.” I giggle at my stupid joke, hoping to lighten the mood and let him know that I’ll be patient with him.

  Nate tenses beside me before forcing a laugh. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower and then we can do breakfast.” He grazes my cheek tenderly with his knuckles before hopping up from the bed, naked as the day he was born.

  I breathe in deeply and release it as he pads from the bed to the bathroom. My knee-jerk reaction is to worry, to assume he’s hiding something, but that’s exactly what I said I wouldn’t do. He deserves the benefit of the doubt, and I have to trust him if we’re going to grow this newly blossomed relationship into something more.

  While he showers, I slip into a pair of sleep shorts and his police department shirt I never returned. Popping into the bathroom, I quickly check my sugar, wash my face, and brush my teeth. “There’s a spare toothbrush under the sink. I’m gonna start breakfast.”

  “Sounds good,” comes his gruff reply. The temptation to say screw breakfast and join him under the cascading hot water is strong, but I resist. I need to eat.

  In the kitchen, I set to work on whipping up my famous avocado egg cups. With the oven preheating, I halve two avocados, removing the pits before carefully scooping a bit more out of the centers. I salt and pepper my yummy green friends before cracking an egg into the divot I created in each of them.

  After I add a pinch more salt to each egg and top them with finely diced tomato, a bit of basil, and a generous sprinkle of feta cheese, into the oven they go. I set the stove timer for eighteen minutes and start a pot of coffee.

  With five minutes left on the timer, Nate steps into the kitchen, dressed in only his boxers with his hair still damp. “Damn, that smells good.”

  I find myself a little tongue-tied at how delectable he looks. “Uh-huh.”

  He laughs and moves closer to where I’m seated on my lone barstool. “Cat got your tongue?”

  “Something like that,” I murmur as he leans down to kiss me. What started as a peck quickly ramps up to a full-on make-out, complete with over the clothes groping and a little bit of grinding.

  I break away from him as the beeping timer fills the small space. “The food is ready, and there’s coffee in the pot,” I say lamely, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears—all soft and thick with desire.

  “Good, I’m starved.” His words hold a dirty promise that has me shivering with anticipation.

  After we eat our breakfast, Nate makes good on his unspoken promise by eating me. Swear to all that’s holy, a girl could get used to this. We spend the rest of the day lazing around, talking and touching. All in all, it’s the best Sunday I’ve had in a very long time.

  chapter twenty-seven

  Nate

  The past few weeks with Jenny have been better than anything I could have ever imagined. She’s more than I deserve—more than I ever thought I’d have—but God knows I’m trying to be worthy of her.

  She’s the kind of girl I can easily see myself falling for, and I’m pretty positive she’s already half in love with me. Which means I need to talk to her about my past—about Sonia. The fear of her realizing the kind of man I really am is holding me back, but I know it’s only a matter of time before I have to buck up and come clean.

  The guys at the station, save for Duke, give me endless shit about being off the market, but I don’t even c
are. She’s more than worth whatever hassle they try to throw my way. They’ve all taken to calling me cutie, which, if you ask me, is a vast improvement to lady killer. So, I’m not even mad. Not to mention, if a girl like Jenny Jones were to give any of them the time of day, they’d be on her like white on rice.

  We didn’t get to see each other last night, thanks to both of us having to work. But we’re both off today, and I plan on surprising her with a date to the Painting Parakeet, followed by a homemade lunch at the park, to make up for it. Shocking on both counts, I know. But ever since our little cooking lesson, I’ve stuck with it. Hell, I even bring Duke lunch twice a week now. And as for the painting crap…well, she’s mentioned wanting to go a time or two, and if decorating matching coffee mugs will make her smile, then I’m down. I’ll do just about anything to see her smile.

  I dial her number as I sip my morning coffee. She answers on the third ring, her sleepy voice echoing through the line brings a smile to my face. “G’morning.”

  “Rise and shine, GG. We’ve got plans today.”

  She yawns, and I wish I was there, in bed with her, to see the sweet stretch that I know accompanies it. “We do?”

  “Mmhmm. So, get ready. I’ll be by to scoop you up in two hours. And before you ask, dress casual.”

  “What are we doing?” she asks, sounding far more alert than she did a moment ago.

  “Nope. It’s a surprise. See you soon.” I disconnect the call before she can attempt to wrestle any details out of me.

  I gulp down another mug of coffee while gathering ingredients for our lunch. Everything is diabetic friendly: I have buffalo chicken roll-ups made with low-carb tortillas, a quick broccoli slaw, and mini cheesecakes in a jar. I was on the fence over the dessert, but after some Googling—and maybe a Pinterest search or two, though I’d never admit it—I found a recipe that would fit in with Jenny’s carbohydrate allowance.

  Just like Jenny taught me, I use the meat from a rotisserie chicken for my roll-ups, folding it in with my cream cheese, ranch seasoning, and buffalo sauce mixture. I add a handful of shredded cheddar, skipping over the blue cheese that the recipe calls for, because I know my girl doesn’t care for it.

  I divide and spread the mixture over six tortillas—another Jenny lesson, leftovers are a godsend during a busy week—before rolling each one tightly and wrapping it with plastic wrap. Technically, I’m supposed to refrigerate them for twenty-four hours before slicing…here’s to hoping that an hour and a half is sufficient.

  While the wraps chill, I whip up the slaw and start on the cheesecake jars. Everything’s coming together nicely when my phone buzzes to life on the counter with Natalie’s ringtone. “Little sister. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Her panicked voice bleats out, “Please tell me you can watch Tatum? I honestly don’t know who else to call. I tried Jenny, but she didn’t answer.”

  “Nat, take a breath. Slow down and tell me what’s wrong.”

  She releases a shuddery exhale. “Alden’s setting up at Taste of the Bay, and I need to go down and help him, but Mom and Dad both have the flu!”

  “What is Taste of the Bay?”

  “It’s like a culinary who’s who. It’s being taped and everything. They’re gonna air it tomorrow morning on the local news. I can’t bring Tatum. Please tell me you can watch her. Please?”

  My excitement over today dwindles. As much as I’d like to tell my sister I’m busy, I’d never leave her in a lurch where my niece is concerned. “Yeah, Nat. Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be there.”

  “Oh my God. Thank you!” The relief in her voice eases my disappointment. Besides, spending time with Tatum always brings a smile to my face.

  Downside: now I have to break the news to Jenny. Phone still in hand, I redial her number. This time, she answers on the first ring. “Oh my God. Nate Reynolds, if you’re calling to tell me you’re already here, I’m gonna freak!”

  I sigh. “I’m not. I’m actually calling to cancel.”

  “Oh,” comes her dejected reply. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, Natalie called me just now—she’s in a pinch and needs someone to watch Tatum.” An idea pops into my head. “Hey, why don’t you come with me?”

  “To babysit?”

  “Mmhmm. You’ve watched Tatum before, and she loves you. Not to mention, I’ll still get to see you. Really, it’s a win-win.”

  She mulls over my offer for a minute. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

  “Toss your swimsuit into your bag; I’m on my way.”

  After I rinse my mug in the sink, I trek back to my room and dress in my swimming trunks and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. On my way back to the kitchen, I grab my ice chest from the back of the hall closet so I can pack up the lunch I made—no need for it to go to waste just because our plans have changed.

  Thirty minutes later, Jenny and I are strolling up to my sister’s front door. I ring the bell, and the door flies open, revealing a very flustered Natalie. “Oh, thank God you’re—” Her words evaporate when she sees Jenny at my side, her fingers interlaced with mine.

  “Uh, I’m gonna need someone to explain this right quick.” She doesn’t sound mad. Hell, if the smile stretching across her face is anything to go off of, she’s thrilled. Confused, but thrilled.

  “Not too much to explain, little sister. I dig her, she digs me. We decided to give this thing a go.”

  It’s at that moment Tatum comes flying up to the door. “Uncle Nate! Miss Jenny! Are y’all talking ’bout digging? Because I’m real good at making holes. Big ones! One time, I even found creepy, crawly worms!”

  Jenny ducks her head behind my shoulder to hide her smile while I let out a loud laugh. “Oh, Tater Tot. Not that kind of digging.”

  Tatum pouts for all of five seconds before honing on Jenny’s hand in mine. “Is Miss Jenny your girlfriend? Do you love her? Are you gonna marry her? Y’all should make a baby. I keep asking Mama and Daddy to, but they just smile and change the subject. But babies are awesome. Will y’all make one? I’ll even babysit!” Now it’s Jenny and Natalie laughing while I practically choke on my own spit.

  “Slow down, kid, we just started dating.”

  Tatum’s big brown eyes widen. “She is your girlfriend! Mama was Daddy’s girlfriend before they got married. So that means y’all’s gonna get married, too!”

  A few months ago, the very same thought would have had me running for the hills, but now…now it doesn’t seem so farfetched. Truth be told, I could easily see myself putting a ring on Jenny’s finger—you know, way on down the line.

  “Hey, Tatum,” Jenny cuts in, finally finding her voice. “You wanna run and throw on your swimsuit, and we can swim?”

  “Yes!” Tatum screeches, taking off toward the stairs like a bat out of hell—or a toddler out of a candy store.

  “Thanks, GG,” I murmur in her ear before addressing Natalie. “Go on, we’ve got this. I even packed lunch.”

  My sister’s brows lift. “You made lunch?”

  I nod proudly. “Yep. This one taught me a thing or two about cooking, and now it’s a regular occurrence at Casa de Reynolds.”

  Natalie looks impressed. “Well, I never thought I’d see the day.” From somewhere in the house, the sound of her cell phone trilling steals her attention. “Gah! I’ve got to go. You both know the drill and how to reach me. Y’all have fun!”

  She darts back inside to gather her stuff, pausing only long enough to hug and kiss Tatum goodbye before she’s out the door and on her way.

  “So, we’re really gonna play in the pool?” Tatum asks Jenny. “Do you know how to swim with your head under the water? Daddy’s trying to teach me, but I’m scared.”

  Jenny smiles at Tatum’s over-the-top enthusiasm. “We sure are, just as soon as I change, and yes, ma’am, I can—I can even do a handstand under the water.”

  Tatum stares up at Jenny with something akin to hero worship in her eyes. “Hurry, Miss Jenny! Hurry!”
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br />   Jenny smiles and ruffles Tatum’s hair before setting off down the hall to the half bath to get changed. “C’mon, Tater Tot. Think you can grab us some towels while I stick our lunch in the fridge?”

  Without another word, Tatum darts off down the hall.

  The three of us reconvene on the back deck, me with three bottles of water, Tatum with three towels, and Jenny with a bottle of sunblock—oh, shit. My mind flashes back to the Memorial Day picnic, but I will the thoughts away. I will not get hard in front of my niece.

  Tatum and I wade into the shallow end while Jenny hangs back. She hesitates briefly before unknotting the sash of her cover-up, revealing her beautiful body clad in only an olive green bikini. She slides her pump from the pocket of her cover-up and fiddles with it for a second before disconnecting the tube from where it inserts into her abdomen.

  “What’s that thing on your tummy?” Tatum asks with all the finesse of a child—which isn’t much—as Jenny descends the pool steps to join us.

  I tense up, worried about how Jenny will react. But my girl responds with ease and grace, taking the time to explain her disease to Tatum in a way that she’ll understand. She patiently answers all of her questions and as I watch how absolutely amazing she is with my niece, I swear I fall a little bit in love with her.

  Time seems to pass in a blur as we splash and play in the water. Jenny demonstrates her handstand for Tatum no less than fifty times, but I’m not complaining, because with every dive down, I get a great view of her legs.

  After a while, Jenny’s pump lets out a series of beeps. “Everything good?” I ask as she swims toward the steps.

  “Yep. Just time for me to reconnect. It alerts me when I’ve had my delivery suspended after twenty minutes.” She dries off and reconnects her pump. “Why don’t y’all keep swimming, and I’ll grab the food you brought?”

  Tatum squeals her approval over Jenny’s plan as she doggy-paddles in circles around me.

  A few minutes later, Jenny returns with the food I made, plus a PB&J for Tatum, which is smart thinking on her part; the kid may have a sophisticated palate, but the roll-ups pack some serious burn. After lunch, the three of us head inside and cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie, which is exactly how Alden and Natalie find us an hour or so later.