by S. L. Scott
“So even though your brother’s in town, you’re dumping us for a lay?” Gear asks.
“She’s not just a lay, man. You know that.”
Gear and Ethan don’t blink. It’s amazing how I can still hear their silence as they stare at me in this loud bar.
“What?” I ask.
“What?” Ethan asks, calling me out. “You never talk about women like that.”
“It’s not like I ever disrespected a woman who didn’t ask me to. We’ll just leave it at that.” They love to give me shit about my dating life. I can’t help I’ve been blessed with a few . . . or a lot of qualities that the ladies dig. Anyway, they apparently haven’t been paying attention. “I haven’t kept her a secret.” Though I feel like she might have kept me a secret from everyone except her friend who hates me.
Ethan pats me on the back, but I can see the mocking grin on his face. “Ah, Hut’s growing up.”
“You act like I chase any woman who looks my way.”
“We all know you don’t have to chase anybody,” Gear says, “but you seemed to enjoy”—he coughs, letting his sarcasm out—“less commitment.”
“That’s one way to put it,” my brother chimes in.
“You two can both fuck off.” I shake my head. “It’s not like you think.”
Surprise pops into Gear’s eyes. He looks briefly at Ethan and then back at me. “Holy shit, dude. Are you in love?”
Lust? Definitely.
Love? Gulps.
Both?
The stress I left at work tenses me again, but I have a feeling it’s not because of the files on my desk. “I need another beer.”
Although his attention turns to the stage, I can see Ethan’s thoughts are somewhere else. He glances my way. “I’ll go with you.”
“Something on your mind?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something for a while now.”
“Let me guess. Business?”
He cracks a grin. “How’d you know?”
“Wild guess.”
“I can’t help it. It’s always on my mind.”
Laughing at his unapologetic shrug, I point a finger his way. “That’s why you’re a billionaire at twenty-eight.”
He ignores my amusement. Already in business mode, he crosses his arms over his chest. “How do you feel about a shot at millions?”
“Billion sounds better,” I say, trying to hold my poker face.
“Yeah, I bet, but considering this opportunity is falling into your lap, let’s start with millions and work our way up from there.”
I’m not sure if he pauses to be a dick or to drum up the anticipation. Either way, I start to walk toward the bar.
“Come to New York,” he says. “I’ll even let you fly on my dime.”
I stop midstride. “On the jet?”
“Dime. Not jet.”
Slumping my shoulders dramatically, I sigh. “Fine. First class?”
“All the way.”
“I knew there were perks to having a sibling strike it rich.”
He swallows half his beer. “I earned every dollar, my friend. Anyway, I have a job waiting for you when you’re ready to move up north.”
“The pay sounds good if we’re talking the big bucks.”
“Better than you’re making working for Dad, and it comes with more perks than me being rich.”
The band takes the stage, and the crowd’s cheer temporarily drowns out our conversation, so I say, “We’ll talk before you leave.”
Gear elbows me. “The Crow Brothers are awesome. They’re going to be huge one day.”
“I …” Lose all train of thought.
Ally walks by again, letting her eyes linger on mine before she’s tugged away by her friend. We usually don’t last this long apart, but pushing each other’s limits is something we’re getting good at.
As I’m warring with myself on whether I should go after her, Ethan’s hand clamps down on my shoulder.
“Just because I flew a thousand miles to hang out doesn’t mean you’re stuck with me all night,” Ethan says.
Rubbing my thumb over my lower lip, I watch as she walks away, that ass round and enticing my mind to remember how fucking great it looks naked. I’m not doing a good job at sticking to the role I’m supposed to be playing—a stranger who picks her up at a bar and has my wicked way with her later. That role was once real, but now I’ve tasted her too many times to pretend I’m not intimately acquainted with every inch of her body. My fingertips burn in anticipation, craving the feel of her skin again.
Living in two different cities is not convenient when the only woman you want to get off with is three hours away. Tonight we’ll have that conversation. It’s been a long time coming.
I’m about to do what he said and get out of here, but he nudges me first. “Stop wasting your time, or someone else is going to want to keep her company.”
“What about you?” I ask, conflicted about leaving him after he came all this way to see me.
“I’ll hang out with Gear.”
“Too bad Singer’s not here,” I say.
Gear whacks my chest. “Hey. He doesn’t need his girl here to have a good time, right, Ethan?”
“Sure, man,” Ethan replies, “whatever.” A deep chuckle follows.
Setting his glass down, Gear adds, “The Everest brothers used to bring the ladies. I need some of that luck again.”
There was a competitive streak running through everything we did growing up through college, except when it came to women. That was one area we gave each other the respect deserved.
The crowd settles as The Crow Brothers get situated on stage. Ethan pulls at the collar of his shirt as if the mere mention of his wife has him hot and bothered.
“You always did make a solid wingman, Hut,” Gear says.
“What can I say? I got my mom’s good looks and my dad’s charm.”
Ethan rolls his eyes. “You know what I got from you?”
“A hard time.”
“Yep,” Ethan says, laughing. “And for the record, it wasn’t luck, Gear. It was skill and the Everest good looks.”
“Oh, yeah?” Gear brags, countering, “Well, I used to see a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader on the regular. She had her pick of guys and always chose to go home with me. I also used to have a regular hookup with a flight attendant based out of Houston. I got more than first class service on those flights. It was a real bummer when she got engaged to a pilot on her route.”
I ask, “You know what Ethan would do in that situation?”
“What?”
“He’d buy his own damn plane.”
“Did,” Ethan corrects. “I bought a jet, and now I fly private.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but laugh. It’s cut short when Ethan crooks a brow at me as though I’m crazy.
“You’re still here.” His voice straddles interest and distraction. “What is this? A game you play?”
“Something like that.” I look back at her. Ally Edwards moved well past a one-night stand just over a year ago when I came back to Austin the following weekend to see her again. We didn’t typically spend much time on dates per se, but there were a few walks along the river, lazy breakfasts, and fairly frequent check-in texts. It didn’t take long for her to mean more to me, especially since she told me she’s not seeing anyone else. But we still play our games from time to time, circling, pretending.
I order a vodka and tonic with a twist of lime for her. I’m done circling; I want to spend time with her, given it never seems to be on our side. Carrying her drink and my beer, I work my way through the crowd to the back of the bar as the band kicks into their chorus.
Ally keeps her gaze ahead, watching the entertainment on stage. The number of guys who have their eyes on her is not lost on me. Her angular jaw leads to the tip of her chin, the bottom point of her heart-shaped face. Her lips are red and full with a sweet little bow at the top. Soft waves of cappuccino-colored h
air caress her shoulders and lower. She has the body of a tennis player—strong with lean arms, defined thighs, and full breasts that shadow a toned stomach.
Her signature scent has hints of seduction layered beneath floral tones despite trying to leave her smelling of the subtle claims I try to stake when I’m with her. From behind, I lean down and whisper, “I wasn’t sure you’d show.”
Without turning back, she replies, “I couldn’t stay away.”
I’m tempted to say a few things regarding her staying away, but I want to enjoy this night, so I let it slide. “You’re looking more beautiful than ever, Ms. Edwards.”
She spins into my arms, which naturally open for her. The games are done. Now it’s just the two of us. Her hand slips under my shirt, her fingertips dipping into the top of my jeans. Closing the distance between us, she radiates heat. “You aren’t alone tonight.”
“Neither are you.”
“Tell me you’re still single, or are you seeing someone in Houston?”
This is a shift in our dynamic, voicing for the first time our formerly unspoken understanding. I don’t see jealousy in her eyes, though I would pay good money to know she felt that strongly for me. “Not in Houston, but there’s a woman in Austin I can’t stop thinking about. Drink?”
Taking the glass from me, she takes a sip, and then says, “Thank you. Now about this woman—”
“Stunning. She’s breathtakingly beautiful with eyes that eat my soul alive when we’re in the most compromising of positions. Our time is too short, flying by too fast or freezing like nothing and no one else exists. I wish I could turn back the clock just to relive the seconds, minutes, hours I’ve shared with her.”
A sly smile appears, and she teases her fingers around one of my belt loops. “She sounds amazing, and you, sir, sound smitten.”
“She is, and I might be.”
Whispering into her ear, I add, “My time isn’t the only thing of mine she consumes. She also takes what she wants but gives better than she gets.”
“It sounds as if she’s a woman who knows what she likes in bed and in men.” My insides tighten over her use of men, instead of man. Has she been lying to me? When her middle presses to mine, I slide my arm around her waist and hold her closer, not wanting to let her go again. She says, “Tell me more about this woman who gives so good.”
“She’s got these eyes that see through my lines, so I don’t lie or waste my best moves. She’s too smart for that. I stick to the basics and open myself up for rejection.”
“If you’re so open, she’ll see your sincerity.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then come find me.”
“Found you.”
2
Hutton
Tilting my head, I lean forward and rest my temple against hers. “I’ve missed you, or are we not allowed to say that?”
Ally’s silence is loud over the energized crowd, her heavy thoughts palpable. When I lean back enough to draw her gaze from the stage to me, she whispers, “We shouldn’t,” before she looks at the drink in her hand.
“Okay. We’ll keep it light with no strings.” I mentally pack away the string I’d planned to attach to her in some form of commitment this weekend.
The warmth is gone when her hand joins her other by wrapping around her sweating glass. “We used to be a lot simpler.”
“Yes, it used to be. But now? Since my lips have tasted yours? It’s no longer simple.”
“You can’t say things like that, Hutton.”
“I just did, sweetheart.”
I see the smile she tries so hard to hide before she takes a sip. The crowd is loud as The Crow Brothers finish another song. “They sound amazing.”
Nice try, Ms. Edwards, on the distraction. I’ll give her a little space on the issue. For now. “Yeah, they do.” I take her by the wrist, wanting to kiss the delicate pale skin of it and selfishly vying for all her attention. “Hey?”
Her gaze slides from where I’m touching her to my eyes. “You hurt me, Hutton.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. What the hell? “How’d I hurt you?”
“The last time we talked.”
Oh . . . I remember a different version of that conversation last month, but we can start with hers first. It’s too noisy in here to have this conversation. “Come on. Let’s talk out back.”
Holding her hand, I lead her to the bar’s patio where picnic benches and tables full of people are hanging out drinking. We find a spot less crowded near a short fence dividing this place from the neighboring bar.
“You were hurt because I told you I wouldn’t wait around for you any longer?”
“My life is already complicated, and you don’t understand. I still don’t think you do.”
“I want to, though. That should matter.”
She lets out a heavy breath, and then says, “You came along and made things messy.”
Meet up and fuck. The lines have blurred between what we were and what I want us to be. “Relationships are messy.” We’ve been lying to ourselves and each other. We’re more than what we said. We’re what we felt inside but never shared. Taking her hand, I hold it, running my thumb over her knuckles. “I wouldn’t know how complicated your life is because you never share it with me.”
“I share my body and soul with you, which is more than I can normally give.”
“Four weeks ago, you didn’t show up. That was when I was ready to share more. So tell me something, Ally. What’s so fucking complicated in your life that you stood me up?”
Even though another song starts, we can still talk and be heard out here. She laughs to herself. “You once told me you didn’t do more. Now you’re saying you would have?”
“Yes, if you’d have let me.”
“Why then? What changed your mind?”
“You. That’s the truth.” I wish I wasn’t holding this beer so I could hold her tighter, feel the curve of her waist to her hip, and then slip my fingers under her shirt to feel the skin of her lower back. Images of that lower back before me as I fucked her and then turning her over so I could see her face . . . “I still want to see you.” The song comes to an end, and I don’t waste a second of the quiet. “I waited. For you, I’ve waited. I’m always fucking waiting.”
Turning around, she presses her back to my chest. “You shouldn’t.”
“I know every inch of your body, probably better than you. Let me get to know the rest of you.”
“Complicated—”
“I know. I know. Messy. I don’t care, though.” The left side of my mouth slides up. “I like messy.”
She laughs, and there’s a genuine sincerity this time. “You like getting messy between the sheets.”
“True. When it comes to you, I do. As for complicated, we can simplify things in time. What do you think about going from having an occasional meetup to dating exclusively?” It’s an offer I’ve thought about often but didn’t know it’d come out tonight. She makes me crazy and scrambles my thoughts.
Her head whips to the side, her mouth falling open . . . God, I love that mouth. “Hutton?”
“Ally.”
“You want to date exclusively, and I haven’t even been introduced to your friend.”
“You’ve met Gear.”
“Who’s the other one?” Her gaze goes from them back to me, and she says, “You look like you could be brothers.”
“We are. That’s Ethan. I want to introduce you to him.” I’m not sure what one thing has to do with the other, but I pick up the crumbs she’s setting down, trying to follow her train of thought. “But not meeting my family before we start dating can’t be the reason you’re holding back.”
“I’d like to meet him.” After taking another sip of her drink, some of the tension leaves her body, and she turns completely to face me, her arms maneuvering around my neck. I like when she gets possessive in public. With that sexy, sweet smile on her face, the one that attracted me to her the first time I s
aw her, she asks, “How long are you in town?”
“Tonight.”
“Then let’s make the most of it.” The pressure of her lips on mine is a quick reminder of the heat we’ve always shared.
I give in to her like I always do and kiss her back. I care about her. I can’t stop thinking about her and what she does when we’re not together, which is ninety percent of our lives.
I like the way she feels against me. I like the feelings she stirs inside. I like that hope seems to find its way through the dark nights we’ve spent together, letting me believe, if only for a short time, that we might be together come dawn.
When the audience starts clapping, Margie eyes me, and then asks her, “I’m heading home in a few songs. Are you staying?”
Ally smiles at me. “I am.”
“Are you sure?” she follows up, seeming to understand more about where Ally stands with me than I do.
Confident in her answer, she tightens her smile, and replies, “Absolutely.”
“Okay then.” I’m tapped on the shoulder, Margie’s ash-gray eyes home in on me. “Take care of her.”
“I will.” I stand firm in my stance and response. I like that Margie cares about her, but I’m not the enemy she’s made me out to be.
She then raises her eyebrow at me as if to say, really?
“Scout’s honor.” Even though I was never a boy scout. My retort earns me a smirk before she turns to Ally. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
They give each other a hug and say their goodbyes. When Ally turns to me, I say, “Margie doesn’t like me.”
“She doesn’t have anything against you. She just doesn’t like some of my choices.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Like me.”
“Stop it.” Playfully patting my chest, she still smiles, amused by the conversation, or maybe I make her happy. “It’s me, not you. That sounds like a cliché, but it’s true.”
“She knows about us?” Is that a good thing?
“I’ve told her how I feel.” I just wish I knew exactly what that meant. Does Margie think I’m truly a menace to Ally? I want to know what this girl thinks. I want Ally to believe we could actually be more.
“You know, I’d love for you to clue me in, sweetheart. After all, I’m smitten, remember?”
