I pull up to the estate and park my car next to Brant’s. A smile crosses my face. I hope he’s excited to see me.
My knuckles rap against the large wooden door.
The door flies open and Iris appears. “Caroline, it’s so nice to see you again.”
I smile. “You too. Here are those blondies.”
She takes the plastic container from me and lifts the lid. “They smell wonderful. Come this way, dear.”
The mid-morning light pours through the windows spreading across the warm wood floors. This house is stunning. It’s like everything and nothing I imagined the inside would look like. We trek through the foyer, past a huge room that looks like a living room but much more formal with a piano.
The smell of chocolate and bourbon hangs in the air and I inhale deeply getting my fill.
“Your home is gorgeous,” I tell Iris.
“Oh, thank you,” she says as we enter the ginormous french country inspired kitchen.
Holy fuck.
There’s enough food for an army—pancakes, french toast, bacon, eggs, and a juice bar. My eyes flick to the pastries and the mimosas.
Did she invite the whole family? Nerves creep up my legs and settle in my spine.
“Hope you came hungry,” she says.
My mouth waters and my stomach rumbles.
I laugh. “I guess that I did. This is quite the spread. Did you end up making the pumpkin bread?”
Footsteps approach drawing my eyes to the doorway. The hairs on my neck stand on end. Brant strides into the room and stops dead in his tracks when he sees me.
The other guy has Brant’s height, but not his heft. Dirty blond hair and golden green eyes dressed in black pants and a tight-fitting shirt that reveals an elaborate series of arm tattoos. Something scripted scrolls across his right forearm.
“Caroline, what are you doing here?” Brant asks and walks toward me.
“Your mother invited me.”
The dirty blond man with the scruffy beard chuckles and pops a grape into his mouth.
A deep breath escapes me and I feel my heart in my throat.
“That’s my brother, Weston. Ignore him.”
“Just Wes,” he corrects. “So, this is your lady, Brantley?”
His gaze slides over me and he smiles. “Yep, she sure is.”
Brant’s dad walks into the kitchen, taking powerful strides toward Iris. I recognize him immediately.
“Okay, we’re all here now,” Iris calls out. “Grab your plates and let’s move into the dining room.”
“Caroline,” Brant’s dad steps up to the breakfast spread. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
I smile. “You as well, sir.”
He waves his hand in the air. “No ‘sir’ stuff from you, young lady. I’m Beau.”
When Brant’s parents and Wes exit the kitchen, Brant hands me a plate. I heap biscuits and gravy onto it.
“So, my mom invited you?” Apprehension is heavy in his voice.
I think. I can’t tell.
“Yeah, we ran into one another at the grocery store last night. I was picking up some ingredients and she was too.” I add some bacon onto my plate. “Are you okay with me being here?”
“Yeah,” he says tightly adding home fries to his plate. “I’m just surprised that’s all.”
“Well, that’s how you’re supposed to feel about a surprise.” I bump his arm with mine. My gaze makes a swift trip up to his face. He arches a brow and his mouth twists into a grimace.
“Come on, you two,” Iris says as she scoops up the muffin basket.
Brant walks toward the dining room and I follow behind him. It feels like I’ve done something wrong. I take my seat across from Brant and next to Iris.
After Iris says grace, I stab at my potatoes but I think I might like to stab Brant. Why is he acting so weird?
He was fine on Friday morning. Then he cancels Friday night. And I don’t hear from him until late on Saturday afternoon. Now, he’s being all wary around me.
What if he’s having second thoughts? The thought alone makes my chest ache.
Brunch volleys between a barrage of questions and talk of the Tennessee Titans football game against the Indianapolis Colts.
“There’s nothing better than football season,” Beau states.
Wes scoops some egg onto his fork. “I love football season, but have you surfed the Indian Ocean at sunrise?”
“My daddy loved the Colts and the Titans,” I say.
Wes looks at me, eyes wide. “How in the world can you like two teams in the same division?”
I lift a shoulder. “You just do, I guess?”
Beau laughs. “A friend of mine cheers for Kentucky and Louisville. Apparently, that’s frowned upon by some people.”
“Oh yeah, you just said two bad words in my house.”
“Did y’all know that Caroline’s brother is a point guard for Elliston?” Brant speaks. He’s been mostly silent this entire time.
He looks at me, it’s stoic at first then something shifts and a smile tips the corner of his beautiful mouth. And those deep blue eyes might as well be shouting directly at me.
“Yes, I did hear something about that,” his mom chirps. “You must be so proud of him.”
“Oh yeah, for sure. Ma and I never miss a game. I just wish that my daddy was here to see him play.”
Iris’ hand layers on top of mine and she gives me a soft squeeze. “We were really sorry to hear about your father. You know it’s odd that we’re neighbors, but we don’t know that much about one another.”
I swallow. “Well, the whole tri-county area seems to think they know a lot about our families.”
Iris laughs. “All those rumors. All that history. It’s nonsense, if you ask me.”
Brant coughs and sputters, his dad pats him between the shoulder blades.
“Are you okay, honey,” Iris asks.
“I’m fine,” he says and wipes his mouth.
And then he gets up without another word and leaves the dining room.
Silence, there’s so much of it. Unless you count the sound of my heart plummeting to my stomach.
Brant
I try desperately to keep this damn secret contained. At the same time, I try my best to fight the tide of emotion between Caroline and me.
It feels like a betrayal keeping this information from her—not communicating. I mean this is exactly what put the distance between the two of us before.
Still, I have an obligation to the company. Legally I can’t say anything.
“It’s nonsense, if you ask me,” my mom says just as I swallow. The tightness constricts my throat.
The room is too hot, too small, and my clothes feel too tight. I stand up out of self-preservation. I can’t bring myself to look at Caroline. I can’t do it because I’m afraid that she’ll see right through me.
Maybe she already knows.
I walk out of the dining room, leaving her and my family to talk amongst themselves.
As I amble into the kitchen the low hum of music pipes from the speakers. Some song about letting our bodies to the talking and our shadows paint the wall.
Fuck.
Blowing out a deep breath, I rinse off my plate and place it in the dishwasher. The only way to not talk is to pin her beneath me and show her how much I care about her.
Not at my parents’ house.
“Dude,” Weston says as he saunters into the kitchen. “Caroline is something else. Hot and smart. She’s got me thinking . . . shit, if I were you, I might be considering marriage, making babies, and the whole nine yards.”
“We’ve only been together a few months,” I point out. “Besides she doesn’t want kids.”
Weston eyes me in surprise. “Really? Are you okay with that?”
I rub a hand over my forehead. “I don’t know, honestly. I’ve given it some thought. Not a lot. Because like I said, it’s only been a few months.”
“Yeah, but you’re not getti
ng any younger, so if you want kids, you better get your life path figured out.”
I huff. “Says the guy who eats tacos from a bag, smokes weed, and travels from town to town not putting any roots down or holding down a steady job.”
Weston opens the fridge and pulls out two beers. “Judge much? Just cause I’m l-i-v-i-n-g a simpler life doesn’t mean I don’t have some stuff figured out.”
I scrunch my brows and take the beer he offers. Sometimes I think Wes is a paradox. “I don’t even think I know what you’re saying.”
Wes nudges me toward the patio and we step outside. “Listen, bro, something’s clearly bothering you. You need to put that problem in a box until you can solve it. Harness the good energy and focus. Like, if right now all you want is Caroline then be in the moment and enjoy that. Worry about the other stuff later.”
Yep. Paradox.
His words do give me pause. This whole stolen bourbon recipe thing is bothering me, but I’ve got to box it up until I can solve it.
We stand on the patio overlooking the land.
“Pop says it could be a harsh winter,” Wes tells me.
“Guess it’s a good thing you’re going to Maui.”
He taps his bottle to mine. “Yes. It. Is.”
I walk back into the house to see Mom and Caroline cleaning up and laughing together. On the radio is “Summertime” by Kenny Chesney.
“It’s smile, it’s a kiss . . . sweet summertime.”
My mom and Caroline sing the chorus at the top of their lungs. My shoulder hits the wall and I just watch. This is a sight.
“You know summer is over and it’s fall,” I say, once the song ends.
“Oh hey, honey,” Mom says.
“It’s summer somewhere,” Caroline points out.
“That’s true enough,” I tell her. “Mom, do you mind if I borrow Caroline for a moment?”
“Not at all. Have fun. We’re going over to the Argenti’s to watch the game. Wes is coming with us. So, lock up when you leave.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I kiss her on the cheek and she hugs me tight.
“Caroline, it was lovely getting to know you,” Mom says, and pulls Caroline in for a hug. “You come back real soon, okay.”
“Thank you for having me. I’ll come back. I promise.”
My eyes lock with Caroline’s and they’re a myriad of emotions—warmth and happiness. It all knocks at my chest. Mom never hugged Natalie.
“Bye, Mom,” I say, leading Caroline outside.
We walk out the patio doors and cross the pool surface. The stables are in the distance. I take her hand in mine.
“You seem off,” she mentions. “And I’m sorry if I intruded on your day with your family.”
I stop and turn to face her. “Hey, my mom invited you and it’s her home. She can invite whoever she likes.”
Caroline laughs. “That’s pretty much what she told me when she invited me.”
We stop at the fence. She drapes one arm over the top railing and shields her eyes from the sun with the other. The two of us stand looking out over the fields. The sounds of birds chirping and a dog barking in the distance fills the quiet in between.
Horses run across the field in the far distance. I count six. Most likely the yearlings.
Caroline climbs up the fence and swings her legs over the railing.
“They’re so beautiful.”
“You ever ride?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Can you believe we have three horses and I’ve never been on any of them?”
“Really?”
“Really. I’ve been on ponies at the state fair, but that’s about it.”
I can tell by the way her eyes go hazy that she had a good memory. “At the fair, huh? You know, I’ve never been to the state fair?”
She hops down from the fence. “Yeah, you don’t strike me as a fair going person. Alan was my first horse. He was a rescue. Daddy trained him. It was hard at first but since then he’s been the sweetest gentlest horse. Ma used to ride him, he’s too old for anyone to ride now, but I do make sure that he gets the exercise he needs.”
“That’s good.”
We trek along the path to the front of the stables.
“Do you ride much?” Caroline looks up at me and smiles.
“I’ve had a little bit of time to ride since I moved back, but not as much as I want.”
I pull open the barn doors. The smell of wood and leather wash over me. I inhale and get my fill of all the goodness.
“There’s something freeing about taking a long ride in morning,” I tell her.
Reclaimed bricks line the walkways. I love this part of the barn. Stone columns and iron railings enhance the classic aesthetic appeal. I take her hand and lead her to my favorite spot in the barn.
“I want to show you something.” I push open the double-dutch doors.
“You have a freakin’ lounge in your barn?” Caroline’s voice cracks. “A bar, leather couches and flat screen televisions. It’s like an apartment inside the barn.”
I laugh. “You’re standing in is what used to be the first office for Rosemary Distillery. They completely renovated the barn and stables when my dad was in high school. All this was updated a few years ago. Dad and I watch games out here sometimes.”
“This is cool,” she says. “All these years living close to you, but yet so far away. I’ve always wondered what this place looks like on the inside.”
After I lock the doors, I take a step toward her. “And now that you know?”
Her eyes scan the space. “It’s okay.”
I pull her closer to me. “Okay? I believe I heard something before that like, this is cool . . .”
“You got me. This place is very cool.”
“Yep, I’ve got you.”
“Well, since you’ve got me that means all of me including my ears. If you need to talk, I’m here for you.”
With the look, and the question, I feel as though I’m being cracked open. Raw and vulnerable. Something twists in my gut.
“There’s nothing to talk about aside from how many times I can make you scream my name.”
She gasps when I pick her up. Her legs swing around my waist. “Brant, we can’t . . . here?”
“Yeah, here.” My cock strains against my jeans as she rubs herself against me.
“Ahhh, Brant,” she whispers and digs her nails into my shoulders. My mouth trails down her throat, my teeth scrape at her pulse.
“I want you.” I set her to her feet, my hands roam over her ass. “Take off your sweater.”
“Okay.”
“We have to be quiet,” I tell her. “We don’t want to scare the horses.”
She nods and tosses her sweater onto the couch. My finger digs beneath the waistband of her jeans and I pop the button. My eyes flick to the mahogany, carved horse head mounted on the wall.
Caroline ignites something inside me, it goes beyond racing to get my rocks off. With her, it’s different. I can’t explain it, but that thing twisting in my gut turns dark, wicked even. Something tells me that I’ll be able to do whatever I want to her and she’ll just scream for more.
“Take your jeans off.”
Her eyes narrow and she flashes me a sexy smile. There’s a playfulness in her blue eyes.
Caroline kicks off her shoes and then she shimmies out of her jeans. They join her sweater on the couch. I spin her around and position her right where I want her.
“Lift your arms over your head.”
“What?”
“I want you to hold onto this, so I can drop to my knees and eat your sweet pussy.”
Caroline tips her head up and eyes the mounted sculpture. Saying nothing she wraps her fingers around the mahogany figure. I move her wrists and wrap the leather cords that extend from the bridle around them.
“That’s a five-thousand-dollar piece of art, try not to break it.” I wink.
“If it breaks, it’s your fault,” she teases. “I won’t be respons
ible for you putting me in this position.”
She’s gorgeous in pink lace and silk. Her skin glows, she’s still got a bit of that tan from summer.
With a steady hand I push her against the wall. Caroline’s breath hitches and I watch her pulse flutter at the base of her collarbone.
I drop to my knees on the hardwood. “Shit, I can smell you already.” My hands skate up the backs of her calves to her thighs.
She wriggles against my hold. My blood pumps through my veins like my car when I’m racing down a backroad.
“You’re perfect. So sexy.”
I kiss my way across her abs and she moans. Wasting no time, I fist her panties and tug them off. My mouth lands on her pussy and she cries out.
Getting my fill, I inhale her scent—warmth, jasmine, and sex—and she tastes just as good.
A wave of tingles shoots down my spine when I lift her leg over my shoulder. My cock hardens to the point of pain. Caroline shifts her hips and I grip the backs of her thighs, then I drape her other leg over my shoulder.
“Fuck, your mouth, Brant.”
My tongue swirls over her clit and I drag it through her wet heat. Licking and sucking in all the right spots that I know will give her the most pleasure. Her entire body shakes when I push a finger inside her. I add another finger and I’m rewarded with a loud moan.
I work my tongue in circles priming her up. Making her burn and ache.
“Brant, it’s too much,” she pants. Her head swivels from side to side. Her thighs begin to spasm. I can tell she’s close.
My fingers twist inside her, pulling and pushing and pressing against her silky skin.
“So damn delicious,” I groan against her. “I could eat you all day.”
One more stroke and she goes off like a firecracker. My name comes out in a scream that bounces around the room. The sound unleashes something possessive inside of me.
I stand and pull Caroline off the wall turning her around as I do. I push my pants over my hips, gravity does the rest for me. Arching back, I moan when she glides her ass against me. I lick every inch of her neck and shoulders. My hands slide up her rib cage palming her gorgeous breasts.
Her arms snake around my neck drawing me closer. “You drive me crazy.”
Sweet Agony Page 18
