Blitz: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy (Blast Brothers Book 3)

by Sabrina Stark

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything," Mina said. "You can still be exclusive without living together."

  "Sure. Except we weren't exclusive. And I never lied to her."

  Mina gave me another skeptical look. "Really? What about a lie by omission?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I just mean, did you ever say, 'Hey, Angelique, I'm not your boyfriend, and just so you know in advance, I'm going to sleep around as much as I want'?"

  "You bet your ass I did."

  "Oh, stop it," she said. "You did not."

  "The hell I didn't. So you're calling me a liar?"

  "Oh come on. That's not fair."

  "Why not?"

  "Because," she said, "by definition, a liar is someone who lies. And you and I both know that you're willing to lie sometimes if you think there's a good enough reason."

  "You mean today." I stared down at her. "Do I need to say it?"

  "Say what? That you lied for my benefit, not your own?" She winced. "I know, which is why I feel rotten for pointing it out. But I'm just saying, I don't think you know what you're talking about."

  "You're wrong," I told her. "I know exactly what I'm talking about."

  And I did.

  I wanted Mina like I'd never wanted anyone. And I sure as fuck didn't want anyone else having her.

  As far as exclusivity, sure, I'd never tried it. But to make Mina my own, it was worth the price.

  Or maybe the price was nothing, because for once in my life, I didn't want anyone else.

  It had been this way for a while now.

  But in front of me, Mina looked unconvinced. "But you can't know," she said. "I mean, just think about it. You're telling me you've never been in an exclusive relationship before. Meanwhile, there's a closet filled with another girl's clothes. And she's so cranked up over you that she's accosting you at restaurants. Can't you see the disconnect here?"

  I had to scoff. Talk about messed up.

  Over the years, I'd been with plenty of women. And there wasn't a single one of them who wouldn't have jumped at half of what I was offering Mina.

  But hey, I wasn't going to beg.

  That wasn't me. And it never would be.

  With a tight shrug, I said, "So it's a no, then?"

  "I don't know what it is," she said. "I'm just finding it hard to believe, that's all. I mean, what do you consider a relationship?"

  Over the years, I'd been called a marketing genius. A modest guy might've disagreed. But I wasn't modest. I knew exactly what I was doing, which meant that I also knew when it was time to stop selling and to let the buyer come to you.

  Or maybe I was just pissed off.

  I told Mina, "Seems to me, you'll never know."

  She shook her head. "What?"

  Just then, there was a light knock at the door. I said, "There's your clothes."

  I turned and pulled open the door to find the delivery person just as I'd expected. He was holding Mina's freshly laundered clothing, hung neatly on wire hangers with a clear plastic covering.

  Looped over the hangers was a small black plastic bag containing what I could only guess were her panties – the ones I'd peeled off her body up in the hayloft.

  But I didn't want to think about that now.

  I traded the clothes for a generous tip and watched the guy go before I shut the door behind him.

  I turned and handed the clothes to Mina. As I did, I told her, "If you wanna change, I'll wait here to drive you home."

  She glanced toward the door. "But wait. We're not done talking."

  "We're done enough."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I offered. You declined. No need to drag it out, right?"

  She hesitated. "So…What are you saying?"

  "Back to the beginning," I said. "You wanted to get our stories straight, right?"

  "You mean with Ginger and Emory? Um, yeah. I guess."

  "I'll make it simple," I said. "Say what you want, and I'll back you up." I glanced down at my watch. "Now, if you want to get changed, I'll have you home in a half-hour."

  From the look on her face, this wasn't what she wanted to hear. But it was her idea, not mine. And I wasn't about to push the issue, even if part of me was sorely tempted.

  Chapter 54

  Mina

  I was such a chicken.

  Here I was, playing it safe yet again.

  Chase and I were only five minutes away from my parents' place, and already, I was dreading the thought of saying goodbye. We'd been on the road for twenty-five minutes now, long minutes filled with nothing but silence, the kind of silence that made it hard to breathe.

  But it didn't make it hard to think. And boy, was I thinking.

  Earlier today, I'd thrown caution to the wind. I'd refused to play it safe. I'd given in to temptation. And I'd made some wonderful memories in the process, the kind of memories that would last a lifetime.

  I didn't regret any of them.

  And yet, this posed a troubling question. If I had no regrets, why was I throwing away the chance to gather up more memories along the way?

  I was no fool. I didn't believe for one minute that Chase Blastoviak would ever be content with only one girl. But along with that knowledge came a certain degree of protection, right?

  After all, if I knew in advance that he'd eventually get bored and move on, I could brace myself ahead of time.

  I could shield my heart and keep my expectations low. That way, when the surprise came, it wouldn't be a surprise at all.

  And I'd roll with it.

  In the darkened car, I gave Chase a quick sideways glance. He didn't look angry or upset. Rather, his expression was more pensive than anything as he focused on the road ahead.

  He wasn't driving angrily either. In fact, I was pretty sure that he was going under the speed limit, just like he had the very first time he'd driven me home.

  As another mile passed in silence, I recalled something he'd said at his condo. You do know life has no guarantees, right?

  Boy, if that wasn't true.

  I heard myself say, "Can I ask you something?"

  "Sure, go ahead."

  "Earlier, in the restaurant, before Angelique came in, you were about to tell me something. Do you remember what it was?"

  With a smile in his voice, he replied, "Maybe."

  I wasn't sure why he'd be smiling, but the sound of it lightened my heart. With a nervous laugh, I said, "What do you mean maybe? Do you mean maybe you remember? Or maybe you'll tell me?"

  "Oh, I'll tell you," he said. "But it's gonna cost you."

  I was suddenly intrigued. "Oh, yeah? What?"

  "That's up to you."

  Now, I couldn't help but smile, too. "Okay…what is it that you want?"

  "You know what I want."

  Actually, I didn't, not for sure. "You don't mean…that you're still open to having a relationship? With me, I mean."

  "That depends."

  My stomach gave a nervous flutter. "On what?"

  "Here's the thing," he said. "If we're together, you can't play the field. No other guys. You know that, right?"

  I scoffed, "Very funny."

  "No. I'm dead serious," he said in a voice that suggested otherwise. "I mean, you're a former beauty queen, right? I've heard stories."

  "Oh, please," I laughed. "First of all, I was a runner up for a small hometown festival. And I wouldn't have competed at all if it weren't a family tradition. I mean, it's not like I tried out for Corn Queen or anything."

  "What, you've got something against corn?"

  "No. I love corn. And I love the Corn Festival. But it's not a family tradition, you know?"

  He was silent for a long moment. And finally, when he did reply, his voice was quiet in the shadows. "No. I don't know." He gave me a long sideways glance. "You want the truth?"

  "Sure."

  "My family had no traditions."

  "Oh, come on," I protested. "That can't be true."

  "No joke," he said. "My parent
s – they weren't the type."

  I couldn’t even imagine. In my family, we had a ton of traditions, and not all of them centered around the Tomato Festival. We had traditions for Christmas and Easter, and even St. Paddy's Day. And we had plenty of non-holiday traditions, too.

  If Chase was telling the truth – and it sounded like he was – he had definitely been missing out. I hated that. With sudden inspiration, I said, "You know what you should do?"

  "What?"

  I turned in my seat to face him. "You should make new traditions of your own."

  He smiled softly in profile. "Hard to do when I can't get a nice girl to take me seriously."

  If he meant me, I was taking him seriously, probably more than he realized. Still, I hated to assume anything. "You mean me?"

  "You see any other nice girl in my car?"

  "Well, I don't know," I teased. "Didn't I hear some thumping in the trunk?"

  "That wasn't in the trunk," he said. "It was in here." As I watched, he placed a hand over his heart and tapped at his chest to mimic a heartbeat.

  It was so silly and romantic that I felt my eyes grow just a little misty. And in that moment, I made a decision – two decisions, actually.

  First, I was going to take Chase up on his offer.

  And second, I was going to shield my own heart as best I could.

  But first things first. "Hey, would you mind pulling over?"

  He gave me a worried glance. "Is something wrong? You feeling alright?"

  His concern warmed my heart, and I couldn't help but smile. "I'll be feeling great if you kiss me."

  He grinned. "Oh, yeah?" And just like that, the car slowed considerably. "So, what are we celebrating?"

  I laughed. "How do you know it's a celebration?"

  "Because if it's not," he said, "I'm gonna kiss you 'til you change your mind." And with that, he pulled the car over onto the dirt shoulder of the darkened country road. He cut the engine, leaned over the center console, and pressed his lips to mine.

  My eyes fluttered shut, and my pulse jumped as our lips moved against each other in the quiet solitude of his car. His lips were warm and soft, and I nearly moaned into his mouth as I laced my fingers behind his neck and kissed him with all of the pent-up passion I'd been storing for who-knows-how-long.

  He ended the kiss not by pulling away, but by trailing his lips close to my ear and saying in a low teasing tone, "To answer your question, I'd been about to tell you…"

  As he paused to nibble at my earlobe, my mind whirled with curiosity. In the restaurant, he'd been about to share some sort of secret.

  But what?

  My breath hitched as I said, "Yeah?"

  With a final nibble, he said in a near whisper, "You're the sweetest thing I've ever known."

  His words warmed me in all the right places, and I turned my face toward his, letting his lips claim mine once again.

  Suddenly, it was like neither one of us could get enough. I felt his hands in my hair and tasted his tongue in my mouth. Already, I could feel myself growing wet and slick with longing for more than a kiss.

  My stomach fluttered as my head filled with the sudden urge to ask him to turn the car around, to take me back to his condo, or cripes, even to someplace safe and quiet where we could park.

  It was such a lovely idea – or so I thought, until Chase pulled back with a whispered curse.

  My eyes flew open just in time to see a face at the driver's side window, and not just any face either.

  It was my dad's face. And it wasn't a happy one.

  Chapter 55

  Chase

  What the hell?

  I looked past Mina to see a woman's face at the passenger's side window. It wasn't just any face. It was the face of Mina's mom.

  My car was flooded with light, thanks to the blazing headlights from the truck parked behind us. The truck's engine was still rumbling, a diesel from the sounds of it.

  As I watched, the mom gave me a little wave, along with a tentative smile. Unsure what else to do, I lifted my hand and waved back. I mean, this was my girlfriend's mom, right?

  My girlfriend.

  Her mom.

  Shit. How old was I, anyway?

  At the moment, I felt more like sixteen than twenty-nine, like I'd just been caught sneaking off with the underage daughter of Farmer Jones – you know, the guy with a shotgun and pitchfork at the ready.

  Except I wasn't sixteen. I was almost thirty. And Mina was plenty old enough to be doing whatever the hell she wanted.

  As far as the face in the passenger's side window, Mina didn't turn around to look. I was pretty sure I knew why. If her mom was on the passenger's side, that could only mean one thing.

  A tap at the driver's side window made me turn to look. Sure enough, there he was – Mina's dad, looking like he wanted to rip out my liver and feed it to the hogs.

  Whose hogs?

  Well, that was his problem, not mine.

  From the passenger's seat, Mina whispered, "Hey, can you roll down the windows?"

  I could. I just didn't know if I wanted to. Still, I hit the button for both sides and returned my attention to her dad.

  He leaned closer and gave me a hard look. "Car trouble?"

  Mina spoke up. "No. We're fine. I, um, just mentioned there might be a noise in the trunk, so we pulled over. And, well, I guess we got distracted, that's all."

  The dad muttered, "So I noticed." He looked to Mina and asked, "You need a lift?"

  "No," she said. "I mean, Chase is dropping me off, so…" But then she paused. "Wait a minute, what are you two doing out?"

  The mom spoke up. "We were playing Euchre with the Krepkes."

  It was a card game, one I'd played every once in a while as a teenager. Not so much these days.

  When I looked back to Mina's dad, he gritted out, "So you wanna check the trunk?"

  Mina spoke up. "Actually, I'm sure it's fine."

  But the dad wasn't having it. "Yeah, but that's why you stopped, right?"

  He was messing with me. I was sure of it.

  But what the hell was I gonna do? I mean, beating his ass was out of the question. And forget being rude. By now, Mina and I had been a couple for barely five minutes. And family was important to her, which meant that I'd be smart to be on my best behavior.

  I looked back to the dad and extended my hand. "Hey, I'm Chase. Nice to meet you."

  He eyed my hand like he wanted to yank it off and beat me in the face with it. He made no move to shake it.

  From the passenger's side, the mom said, "Oh, Bob. Shake the guy's hand, will you?"

  I kid you not. The guy actually growled when he finally extended his hand and gave mine a squeeze so hard, it would've gotten blood from a turnip. The smartass in me wanted to squeeze back twice as hard. But for Mina's sake, I didn't.

  Instead, I grinned up at him, as if to say, "That's all you've got, old man?"

  Turns out, it wasn't. By the time he was done, my hand was numb and tingling. When he finally let go, he flicked his head toward the rear of the car and said, "Now come on. Let's go check it."

  Obviously, he meant the trunk. Shit.

  Still, I could be a good sport, right? I looked to Mina and said, "Hang on. I'll be right back."

  Outside the car, the guy didn't waste any time. When I opened the trunk, he gave it only a cursory glance before turning to face me. "Nice hammer."

  If he meant the one in the trunk's tool pouch, I knew it was nice. It was our top seller, and I'd had a hand in its design.

  In a careful voice, I replied, "Thanks."

  "Care if I borrow it?"

  I did, actually – because judging from the look in his eyes, the only thing he wanted to hammer was my face. But hell if I'd be the one to show fear. With a loose shrug, I said, "Sure. Go ahead."

  As I watched, he reached into the trunk and pulled the hammer from the pouch. He held the hammer loose in his big, meaty hand, as if testing its weight, before he raised it like a
weapon.

  I didn't flinch, but fuck knows I wanted to.

  "So," he said, "You do this a lot?"

  "Do what a lot?"

  "Suck face on the side of the road?"

  I gave the hammer a wary glance. "We weren't sucking face."

  "That's one opinion. Not mine."

  He wasn't the only one with an opinion. And it was time to remind him of something. "In case you forgot, your daughter's twenty-five, not fifteen."

  "I know," he said, "which is why I'm being so friendly about it."

  Oh, yeah? If this was friendly, I'd hate to see the opposite. Still, he wasn't the only one who was getting pissed off. "Yeah, well, I'm being friendly, too."

  He looked toward the car's front passenger's side, where his daughter was still sitting, talking to her mom through the open window. The dad looked back to me and said, "Shit. If you were any 'friendlier,' you'd be buck naked."

  On this, the guy might have a point, but hell if I'd admit it.

  The truth was, I'd fallen down on the job, not by kissing Mina on the roadside, but by getting so lost in her kiss that I hadn't kept a better eye on our surroundings.

  It was a mistake, one I wouldn't be making again – but not because of her dad. It was just smarter to keep an eye out, that's all.

  When my only reply was a tight shrug, her dad lowered the hammer and announced, "I'm keeping this."

  I frowned. What the hell?

  I didn't care about the hammer. I had a million more where that came from. But obviously, there was more to the story. I just didn't know what.

  I replied, "Oh, yeah? Why?"

  "Because," he said, "if you ever hurt my daughter, I know exactly where I'll be shoving this thing." He grinned. "And just so you know, the handle goes last."

  I drew back. What the ever-loving fuck?

  What does a guy say to that?

  Nothing, as it turned out, because just then, Mina's mom, along with Mina, joined us at the rear of the car. Mina's mom lowered her head and peered into the trunk. "Well…" she said in a cheerful sort of way. "What do ya know? No dead body."

  The dad muttered, "Not yet."

  Mina spoke up. "I never said it was dead."

  In unison, we all turned to look.

  She cleared her throat. "I just mean, if it were dead, it wouldn’t be thumping, right?"

  For a long moment, no one said a word. Finally, it was the mom who broke the silence. "Alrighty then." She looked back to me and said, "Anyway, it was nice meeting you. You should come by for dinner sometime." And with that, she claimed her husband's hand – the one not holding the hammer – and practically dragged him back to the truck.