by Kate Swain
Dating My Brother’s Best Friend
Kate Swain
Copyright © 2020 by Kate Swain
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Dating The Boss (Excerpt)
About the Author
Blurb
WARNING!
Dangerous curves ahead…
I’m used to working on bikes.
But it’s my best friend’s sister whose curves have me all tied up in knots.
She’s back in town and too hot to handle.
Too bad I can’t keep my hands to myself.
Those red lips, that dancer’s body, that naughty laugh.
Her brother, my best friend, would never forgive me.
So when I agree to help her check out a property for her dance studio,
I didn’t plan to let things get wild, to take her
Right there up against the wall.
She’s forbidden fruit.
I’ve had a taste. I want more.
But I have to stay away. She’s off-limits.
Then a drunken mistake makes my bad reputation worse.
She won’t even look at me.
And my mistake has put her in danger.
I’ll do anything to protect her.
Her and the little secret I just found out about.
Nothing will stand in my way.
Not her brother who wants to beat my ass.
Not the crazy ex who won’t leave me alone.
She’s mine.
And so is our baby.
I’ll prove it to her anyway I have to. I protect what’s mine.
1
Maddy
I shut my eyes for a moment, listening to the rattle and clanging of my belongings stashed in the back of the pickup and on the seat beside me. I tried not to imagine what was breaking in there or—to guess from the sound of glass rattling—what had broken already.
“My driving isn't that bad,” I said mildly.
I grinned, scraping blonde hair out of my eyes as I checked the mirror. The cars behind me all seemed to be going much slower, and I had to laugh. My driving had always been a bit dangerous. My brother Adam used to joke that I had gotten all the dangerous genes and he was the sensible one. I wanted to smile: I wouldn’t have called riding a motorcycle and belonging to a famous motorcycle club exactly sensible.
I found myself thinking of home. My brother was still living in Kansas. That meant it was home, for me. Adam—my big brother, now twenty-eight—was my only real family. I was coming back to stay with him after what felt like an eternity. I looked out of the window, amazed by how little had changed and yet how foreign it felt now. I still questioned why I was returning, even as I drove along the dusty road back to Kansas.
I hadn’t been in Kansas for years. For four years, to be exact. I’d been studying in New York. I left at age eighteen. Now, at twenty-two, I was not ready for the feelings that came over me as I drove closer and closer to my home.
“Well, I’m back.”
I hadn’t expected it, but it felt good to be home. The journey had taken three days and I should have been tired, but I wasn’t. I was excited.
“Hello?” I said, pulling over and hastily answering my phone. I thought it might be Adam, calling about plans or something. He expected me to arrive at about four p.m., and it seemed like I was on track. I frowned as I looked at the number.
“Hello?” I said again to the silence, feeling confused. I don’t usually answer numbers that don’t appear on my contacts. But given how many utility companies and banks and movers and other things I’d contacted recently for the move, I thought it might be important. I took a chance, and waited for the reply.
“Maddy!” A familiar voice shrieked. “How’re you doing?”
“Hi, Rebecca,” I greeted her, smiling to myself. Rebecca Thomson, or Becca as we all called her, was my best friend for as long as I could remember. We’d met at in elementary school and stayed friends all through college even though we’d taken slightly different paths. She studied business and marketing, while I’d done business as a minor along with my dance and art major. I wondered if Becca had news.
“I went to an interesting house today,” Becca said excitedly. “Hey… got time to talk?” she added.
Not that being a bit inconsiderate is a bad trait in her profession—or at least being direct.
Becca was a realtor, and great at her job.
“You did?” I asked. “Was it…”
“It’s got two rooms—a bedroom with a nice bright bathroom, and then this huge open space that could be divided and used as a studio and welcome area…” she interrupted, sounding as excited about the place as a chef would about her latest recipe.
“Oh!” I smiled. She was thinking of me. I had asked her to keep an eye out for space I could rent, and she was doing her job.
She was always great at what she did.
I hadn’t expected that she would find a place that sounded so promising so quickly. In less than a day even!
“I wonder how much they want for it?” I queried.
She shot back a price that I couldn’t afford. My stomach twisted. As usual, when somebody mentioned something perfect, I often was letdown because I could not afford it.
But I shouldn’t be let down—it’s a reminder of what’s out there and what’s possible.
I felt my spirits rise, and I strengthened my resolve. Opening a dance studio was all I wanted. It had been my dream since I started college. My passion and love of dance had landed me a scholarship to NYU, something I could never afford on my own. I knew my education would open doors for me. I wanted to teach kids dance, so that it could change their lives as it had mine.
All I needed was the right space.
“Sorry, Maddy,” she said after a silence. “I guess it’s too much.”
“It is,” I agreed. “I really need something under a thousand dollars per month. Ideally somewhere around seven fifty, so I have enough money to remodel and turn it into a real studio.”
She drew in a breath. “It’s tough,” she said. “But, you know what? I know it’s possible.”
I smiled. That was one of the best things about Rebecca—she would try and help no matter how hard the project sounded. And I knew that, with her on my side, we would find the perfect place to launch Brightest Life Dance Studio and make it real.
I knew the basics for planning my own studio. I needed a commercial space, the sort that had accessibility, safety, and loads of space for parking. I also needed a space big enough to hold twenty-five or so students—a dance floor of three hundred square feet. It was a tall order and I knew it. But I was sure we would find it.
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“So,” I said, clearing my throat and changing the subject. “How are things otherwise?”
“Well, now…” Rebecca’s voice dropped a register, becoming sexier. I laughed. She had clearly been involved in one of her many dalliances and it sounded as if it had gone well.
“Who is it?” I asked, prompting a happy laugh.
“It’s a guy I met last month… he works at the computer shop. He’s a smart guy. The job is only part-time while he finishes his studies at grad school.”
I smiled while listening as she relayed some more details of her latest romantic interest.
Rebecca was the sort of person who lived life fully and joyously. I couldn’t help but enjoy hearing her stories. And oddly, I didn’t find her a threat, though many women might have viewed her as one.
I will have adventures of my own when I feel ready for them.
I’d had more than enough. And right now I wanted time to figure my life out before committing to anything.
I chatted for a bit longer, and the conversation turned to the weather in Kansas today. I glanced through the windshield then glanced at my watch. It was three o’clock, and I really needed to get moving if I wanted to get to my destination.
“Sorry, girlfriend,” I said dolefully. “Have to fly.” A bit of dust was blowing into the car and it stung my eyes. I blinked my brown eyes and rolled up the window
“No worries!” Rebecca said warmly. “See you soon. Let me know when you have time to meet up.”
“I will. Thanks!” I grinned. I was surprised by how much I was looking forward to seeing her. I had missed Becca in the months since she’d moved back home.
“And we’ll have tons of fun when we go out—prepare to turn heads in Kansas City, girlfriend!”
I smiled and said “that sounds great. Good bye.” As I drove away, I shook my head, smiling at her enthusiasm.
I don’t want to meet somebody yet.
I wasn’t ready. Besides, I had met enough men in college to know that the only one who had made a real impression on me was tall, blue-eyed and stunning. He still appeared in my thoughts even though I had not seen him for five years.
Mark Brand.
He was well-built, funny and playful. He was a bit of a bad-boy. He was also my brother’s best friend.
I remembered first meeting him. He and I had seen each other a few times—after all, he worked with my brother, and I went out with Adam regularly when I lived in Kansas City. I knew that he was the last guy I should be thinking about. On every front, he was absolutely wrong for me. He was dangerous, smooth-talking, sexy. And being well-acquainted with my brother meant that in order to be with him, I’d have to have Adam’s approval. Not likely, for sure. Besides, he was out of my league.
All the same, as I took my foot off the brake and eased back onto the road I saw his face floating in my dreamy mind.
“Stop it, Maddison,” I told myself. I should know better than to even consider the idea.
But I could not help it. Mark was not the sort of guy I should be thinking of. He really did have a bit of a reputation. Besides, I knew Adam wouldn’t exactly approve—when I was eighteen he’d warned me to stay away from him.
“He’s not your kind,” he’d said gently. “And he’s not the sort of guy I want you to be involved with.”
I shook my head. I really ought to believe Adam. He was a great big brother, smart on these kinds of things, and he really could be relied on to know what was best for me.
He’d protected me all my life.
My stomach twisted painfully. My brother had been more of a parent when I was younger than either of my parents. Dad, when he was around, was abusive and unhappy. My mom, I admitted, had tried, but drinking had been the crutch she needed to get her through my dad’s behavior. As a mom, she was not fully there for us. I remembered her with a mix of sorrow and a feeling of betrayal. I had wished then that she could have found her love for us stronger than her need to escape everything. It would have been nice if her love had been stronger, even just now and then.
I knew I should have been more understanding, but even now as an adult and being able to see why she did what she did, I still wish our mom had acted differently.
My brother and I grew up staying in our rooms, frightened and tense, while shouts and barely-contained violence erupted between our parents; fights that always ended badly. Or he and I avoided our house altogether, playing or visiting our friends. I moved out as soon as I could, boarding with a friend. That was how I and Becca first met ten years ago. Adam had done an apprenticeship and shortly after, he’d started work at the motorcycle shop. Two years later, I’d won a prestigious scholarship to go to college.
And now, for the first time in years, I was going back.
It was a weird feeling.
“Why, of all places in the world, are you coming back here?” I asked myself, looking in the rearview mirror. She looked back at me with a round, soft face with red lipstick and big eyes. I shook my head, letting my hair lift off my brow where the sweat had stuck it firmly. Driving was hot work in the Midwest in summer!
I asked myself the question inwardly as I hit the first real traffic since starting out.
I had nowhere to stay. I mean I was staying with Adam. But not until I managed to set myself up as a teacher with regular income could I have my own place. I had some savings, but not enough to support myself for the few months while I looked around and certainly not enough for a deposit on an apartment and a dance studio. I was so grateful for Adam.
“So, here we are,” I smiled.
I tried to feel brave about coming back home, but it was a weird feeling. I hadn’t been home for four years. In college, I had deliberately avoided it not just because flights from NYC to Kansas City were pricey, but because I didn’t want to see my family.
I had missed Adam.
I smiled to myself. I had seen him at Christmas twice when he came to visit me and then twice more, when we’d had holidays at a friend’s place in Chicago. But this would be the first time in a long time and I would be living with him. I wondered if he looked different.
I filled in the image of my older brother. He was four years my senior, with hair a shade paler and striking blue eyes. He had a long straight nose, full mouth, and a serious but friendly face. He looked mature for his age, which was unsurprising given that he’d taken care of me since I was a kid.
I wondered as I drove up the familiar street what was new in his life. I knew that he was still working at Brand’s Bike Shop, the business owned by Carter Brand, elder brother of Mark. I felt my heart tingle. I wondered if I would see Mark again.
“Come on, you…”
I chided myself. I was not here to daydream about a guy from my past, nor, for that matter, about guys at all. I was here to build my vision of having the best dance studio for low-income children that I could. And I would do it.
All I needed was the space.
“Come on, dammit,” I swore at my pickup, as the gears ground and the engine refused to go. I loved my Ford Pickup, but it was far from reliable. I had bought it with the savings from my scholarship. It was the only thing I’d considered an extravagance while in college.
It had been built in 1999, it consumed oil faster than I consumed candy, and it smelled like a diesel plant. But it had got me through my studies and to countless dance rehearsals. And now it had driven me and all my stuff halfway across the country.
“So, it’s certainly been useful,” I mused, as it backfired loudly. I glanced at the dashboard, frowning. I was running low on gas. I looked around, deciding that the first thing I should do was find a gas station somewhere. I felt my stomach twist queasily as I realized that I didn’t know Adam’s new address.
“Damn it,” I swore.
I pulled over and checked my emails. I was near Brand’s Bike Shop, I knew that. If I had to, I could always drop in and find him there.
I felt my cheeks flood with color. I might also see Mark.
“Come on, girl,” I chided myself. I pulled my phone out and called Adam. I was starting to feel nervous and I wanted to get there before dinner. I did not want to be late, after all.
2
Mark
“Hey! What were you saying?”
I bit my lip and yelled again as the roar of the engine continued. It seemed futile, but I needed to know what my colleague was yelling.
“What did you say?”
The engine stopped. Adam looked up from the speedometer, a strand of blonde hair falling into one eye. He grinned at me.
“Sorry, Mark. Didn’t hear you.”
I groaned inwardly and repeated myself. “I said, what did you say?” I was very fond of Adam. He was a great mechanic and a good team-mate. His irrepressible optimism got on my nerves sometimes, I had to admit. But that was probably, as Matt my brother always said, because I was so down-in-the-dumps so often.
I prefer to think of myself as realistic.
I looked up at Adam, waiting for his reply.
“Oh. I said that I think there’s something wrong with the engine. See that?” he pointed to the thick smoke in the exhaust.
“Yeah,” I said, with a sour expression. I could do more than see it. I could smell it, breathe it and practically eat it. It was so thick, it was choking me. That there was something faulty with the engine was not open to question. The fact that we’d just rebuilt the engine made it more confusing.
“Well, it looks like something’s leaking,” Adam said with a big grin.
