Making Her Mine (Rowdy Brothers Book 1)

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Making Her Mine (Rowdy Brothers Book 1) Page 5

by Glenna Maynard


  I have got to stop these thoughts about Zane. He has a long list of women and I don’t know why I care all the sudden.

  “So,” I start, trying to be casual. “You know you have your own home to go to and find whatever it is you are looking for.” Why is he still here? I don’t want to be rude. However, shouldn’t he be gone already? If my memory serves me correctly, he is not the kind of man who spends the night. Ever.

  He grins lazily. “We are becoming friends and friends have breakfast together.” He brushes up against me, opening my drawer I keep my silverware in. He smells good. Sigh…his skin touching mine feels too good. It doesn’t feel friendly at all.

  “I don’t recall inviting you for breakfast.” I smirk, being smart with him. Did I just flirt with him? Why am I flirting with him and liking it when he smiles at me like that?

  “If I recall correctly. You invited me to do so much more.”

  I can’t believe I acted that way last night. I don’t know if I should apologize or what, but he is probably used to it. An awkward silence stretches between us and I am unsure what to do or say.

  He uses my bathroom and I try to remember to breathe as I think about him being in my bathroom practically naked, but then I get a visual of him peeing and that is just weird.

  His breath is still sticking to my ear as he continues making himself at home, cooking my eggs, and frying my bacon. I leave him to it and go back to my small bedroom to get dressed. I make my bed, pick up my dirty laundry, anything to avoid going back in there with him. I don’t want to see anyone with the way my head is feeling. It feels as if there is an army of miniature carpenters hammering nails into my skull.

  Thankfully, I am off today so I can hide all day. I don’t want to deal with people pressing me for gossip about Zane and our friend status. As large as this place is, it sometimes seems so small seeing how everyone seems to know each other’s business. I swear Kiesha knows what I am doing before I do it most days.

  “You alive back there,” Zane calls from the kitchen.

  “Yeah, just a minute.”

  I will let Zane stay for breakfast but then he has got to go. I have a book I have been dying to read waiting for me and today is the perfect day to spend with one of my book boyfriends.

  Leaving on my tank, I pull my denim cutoffs on over my hips. My boobs are popping out a bit, so I add a white and maroon checked button down over them. Guess loving checkered shirts runs in the family.

  Running my brush through my hair, I smooth out the tangles from the previous night. A dab of Chap Stick and some mascara finishes me off.

  Back in the small kitchen, Zane has the eggs ready but the bacon not so much. He shoves a plate of scrambled eggs in my direction.

  “Thanks.”

  We eat our eggs in awkward silence and he flips the bacon as it crackles and pops. He has the temperature up too high. Grease splatters, landing on my arm. I bite into something hard, and I stick the tip of my tongue out and remove a piece of eggshell. Discreetly, I put the piece of shell in a napkin and shove my plate away telling him that my stomach isn’t ready for real food. At least he tried.

  “Are you working today?” He asks with a gleam in his eye.

  I want to lie and answer yes but before my brain can register the thought, I spit out an eager, “No.” Really, Hattie, calm down, I scold myself mentally. I act as if a good-looking man has never showed me any attention. And this is Zane. The man has tried everything under the sun to get in my pants. Hell, he gets in everyone’s pants.

  “Good, I want to take you somewhere. Do you have boots?” he asks as he finishes burning the bacon.

  I nod, curious as to where he could want to take me. Pulling my boots from my storage tote that holds my shoes, I slip them on and grab my phone and keys as Zane leads me to his truck after getting dressed. Thank God, he put some clothes on. I was going to ask him about his tattoos, but I didn’t want him to think I was gawking at him. Well I kind of was but still…he has a four-leaf clover on his right shoulder blade. Is that what brings him so much luck with all the women?

  “I need to stop by my place for a minute. That alright with you?” He really isn’t asking but I answer that it is anyway.

  I get into the cab of his pickup and try to sit as far away from him as I can.

  “You know, you can let go of the handle and relax,” he says, gazing at me with his eyes all soft and dreamy.

  No, I can’t, I think to myself. Because if I let go, I am going to give in to his wicked charm and paw at him like a bearcat getting its last meal. I am starving for a man and Zane isn’t just any man. He is a man that has the ability to hurt me if I’m not careful. I like him much more than I should. This crush has long left the crush station. I like him a lot.

  Chapter 9

  Zane

  I must admit Hattie sure looks good in my truck. She smiles at me from the cab as I lock my door. I needed to freshen up a bit after the night I had. I was afraid to take too long changing my shirt. I was afraid when I came out that she would be gone. She is always so standoffish about being alone with me. In a way it’s cute.

  I see Lucas slowing as he drives by. I wave at him with my middle finger and smirk as he gets an eye full of who is with me. I want him to know Hattie will be mine. She just doesn’t know it yet. Wait…what did I just say? I shake my head and get in my truck. When I rejoin her, she is singing along with the radio.

  Shaking my head at her choice, I chuckle.

  She smacks me hard in the gut. “Not everyone has the voice of a rock star.” She goes back to singing Beyoncé.

  “I have a few rules for my truck.” I hold up a finger. “Number one, don’t touch my radio.” Adding a second finger, I continue. “And number two, no cat in heat screeching.” Popping up a third finger, I tell her, “Number three. You sit by me.” I change the station to rock and Kid Rock is belting out lyrics about a first kiss. Not exactly what I was going for but much better.

  Hattie has a scowl on her face, mocking offense over my comment about her singing. Her voice is actually nice, but I enjoy seeing her cheeks flush.

  I stop the truck on the side of the road when she refuses to sit next to me. “What are you doing?” She looks at me with this bewildered expression on her face.

  I don’t say anything. I go around to her side of the truck, open the door and shove her into the middle of the seat. Her mouth is still hanging open when I get back in and get back on the road.

  “Much better,” I tell her as she still sits there shocked that I actually did just do that.

  After a minute or two, she relaxes and puts her head on my shoulder. Her head nestled against me feels so good. My gut instinct is to kiss the top of her head. However, I stop myself. I am sure that would really freak her out. I have to get a grip. It’s just so hard. I like this girl a lot.

  “So, what is it we are doing today, friend?” She watches the scenery as it blurs by.

  “You ever been muddin’?”

  “Um…no,” she answers weakly.

  “Well, sweet cheeks, that is about to change.” I pull into my friend Ryan’s driveway; he is a regular at the bar and a good friend. I back up to the trailer that is waiting for me. Ryan owns an ATV shop and he lets me borrow his four-wheeler when I want to ride. I used to have my own, but after the shit with Lanie, I sold it when I moved to the trailer park. Bitch took the house. She took everything. I gave it to her to just be done with her.

  After getting the trailer hitched, I grin at an anxious Hattie as she fidgets with her hair, twirling it around her finger. “Nervous?” I ask as I drive us to the property Ryan owns. He had planned to build a larger home, but the financing fell through. For now, he uses the land as a rider’s playground.

  The ground is still wet from the heavy rain we received a few days ago. I can’t wait to see Hattie all muddy and freaked out. I just know she is a prissy girly girl.

  She shakes her head no, but her body language says something else. “Do I make you nervo
us, Hattie Mae?”

  “You wish,” she spits out quickly. A smile spreads across her blushed cheeks as she stares at me quizzically. “Just trying to figure you out, Zane.”

  “I am an open book, got nothing to hide,” I say knowing it is bullshit. Only thing to hide is the fact that I like her a lot.

  She waits patiently as I get the ATV unloaded. When I wave her over, she seems apprehensive. “Don’t we need helmets or protective gear or something…?” She looks a little pale.

  “Only thing you need to do is wrap those arms around me and let me take care of you today. Trust me, you’ll be fine.” I wink and smack her on her ass, earning me a smack back. I wasn’t expecting that. Hattie just keeps surprising me. I can read most women easily, but she is complex. Nothing like what I am used to—it’s refreshing.

  Chapter 10

  Hattie Mae

  “Ahh… Slow down, Zane!” I am screeching as Zane is whipping us right into a puddle of mud as he guns the gas on the four-wheeler. Why in the hell did I agree to get onto this deathtrap with him? Oh yeah, it was those dang eyes and his tempting lips. My right arm is beating on his back while my left is snaked around his waist, holding on for dear life. And the only response I get is the jerk laughing at me. Mud splashes all over the two of us. I am pretty sure a bug just went down my throat as I was screaming. I cough and wheeze, trying to clear my throat.

  He continues to laugh and go faster.

  Jerk.

  But then it happens. He gets hit in the forehead with a big bug and I lose it as he cusses under his breath.

  “You didn’t see that damn thing. I will probably have a bruise. If anyone asks I was defending you against a wild animal.” He chuckles, and I shake my head.

  We continue to zip through the mud and the trees. I have to admit I am having the most fun out here with Zane. Justin never wanted to do anything like this. He cared more about going to art galleries or hanging out with his friends playing Xbox. Zane is definitely a good ol’ boy and I like that about him. He is so fun and carefree. I lose track of time and myself when I am with him. I become completely engrossed with him. He enamors me with his wit and charm.

  The death on wheels comes to a stop and Zane twists his neck around and smiles at me. “We are out of gas. I didn’t think to check before we left.” I smear mud across his smug cheek. “Oh, darlin’, you have no idea what you just got yourself into.” He has an amused, all-knowing, wicked grin on his muddy but perfect face.

  I scoot back from him slightly. Throwing his leg over the side to climb off he steps into a deep mud hole while snickering.

  His piercing blue eyes narrow on me with a mischievous glint.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I shift my eyes, looking for an escape from whatever he is planning. On either side, no matter which direction I go, I will be ankle deep in mud.

  “Come on.” He stretches his hand out to me and I shake my head no.

  “I’ll carry you to safety,” he offers, and I am not sure if I should trust him.

  “You promise no funny business?” I eye him with caution as he steps beside where I am perched. My choices here are limited. A—I sink down in the mud. B—I sit here while he goes to get gas. Or C—I trust Zane not to be a dick and do anything funny.

  “Arms hooked around my neck and legs around my waist, Hattie Mae. I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

  “You just want to feel my boobs pressed against your back,” I tease.

  “If I wanted your breasts smashed up against me…I wouldn’t have to ask. And you wouldn’t be covered in mud darlin’, you’d be slick with dirty sex sweat.”

  At his words, my mind instantly flashes to exactly that…Zane pressing down on my naked body, both of us drenched in sweat from having the hottest sex ever. My cheeks flame, because I know without a doubt, that sex with this man must be amazing.

  “Come on, the gnats are starting to circle.”

  I really don’t have many options so when he turns his back to me I do as he said. My boobs are smashed against his hard back and my face is buried in the back of his sweaty neck. He smells like pure man and the woods—so fucking sexy.

  With my extra weight, he sinks down deeper in the mud and I become self-conscious of whether he is able to carry me. I’m not on the skinny side. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. We make it a few feet from where we got stuck and he drops to his knees and falls back on me planting me flat in the mud. Oh my God, the jerk!

  “You weren’t muddy enough.” He chuckles as I shove at him angrily.

  “Get off me, you big lug!”

  “Mud is a good look for you,” he says, flopping down beside of me.

  “Yeah, well, shit brown is a perfect look for you because you are a shithead.”

  He laughs surprised by my insult. “I have been called many names by a woman before, but I don’t think shithead has ever been on the list.”

  “I find that very hard to believe.”

  “Why is that?” He asks, turning serious.

  “Well…you do have quite the reputation.”

  “And that means what?” His eyes have gone dark and I am afraid I have hurt his feelings.

  I didn’t mean…well, actually I did but, I didn’t expect it to hurt him. Zane doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he is a womanizing whore. I need to fix this. He is looking off and I feel a coldness between us.

  I dig my fingers down in the mud and smack him over the face with a clump. He smashes a handful on the top of my head. The two of us are rolling around happy as two pigs wallowing in shit. He has my arms pinned over my head now and leaning down over me. My God, he is just so beautiful to look at. I swear he could be a mud model if there was such a thing. Hell, there probably is. People have weird fetishes. The mud actually feels good on my skin. Maybe I am a mud weirdo, because this shit feels good.

  Zane looks like he is thinking hard about something. It would be easy to lean up and kiss him right now, but I know I won’t. I’m not drunk today. My cheeks flush as the night before forces its way to the front and center of my thoughts.

  Me falling out of his truck when he got me home. Licking his neck as he picked me up and carried me inside. I can still taste his salty sweat from where we were dancing. The way he smelled, like sex and liquor, lingers in my nose. How sexy he looked when he tucked me in. He was a pure gentleman. He even kissed my forehead, telling me he would be on the couch in case I were to get sick and need something. And then I was a big jerk, stripped down to my under clothes and asked him to do me.

  I snap back to the present and I swear he knows why my cheeks are red. He smears mud on my nose and rolls away from me. My breathing is labored. My feelings are mixed all over the place.

  I’m torn between my promise to myself and what my body knows my heart wants.

  I want to kiss him.

  Even if I know it’s wrong and will lead me down a road I shouldn’t travel, I crave the feel of this man.

  Chapter 11

  Zane

  I never knew a woman could look so hot covered in mud. However, Hattie, she isn’t like most women. It would be easy to claim her lips right now. Those velvet pink lips are calling to me, daring me to take what I know will be mine.

  If I kissed her, right now, I know our hormones would take control. We are both attracted to each other, but I want to do things differently with her. The past few years everything has been about sex for me. I respect her too much to do that to her. When I kiss her again, it will be because I know I can give her what she needs. I can tell she has been hurt in love before and I don’t want to be that guy that uses her for sex.

  Hattie is the kind of girl who wants the fairytale and she deserves it.

  Her cheeks are flushed, and I wonder if she wants me to kiss her. Lord knows it is taking every ounce of self-control I have not to claim that pretty mouth and slide my tongue between her lips.

  The tension between us is strong. After last night, I know she wouldn’t pull awa
y if I tried. When she stripped down to her bra and panties, telling me to have my way with her it was so hard to walk out of her room. The woman has banging curves. She isn’t fat, but she isn’t a stick either. Her curves fill her body out in all the right spots. She is a full-figured goddess—a total Betty.

  Smearing mud on her nose, I have to move away from her. Being this close to her…I am afraid I will lose control with her and ruin the friend thing we got going here. I want to get to know her on a deeper level. Show her that I can be her friend even if it kills me.

  I help her up out of the mud that we now are both caked in. There is a hose hooked up at the storage shed over where the house was going to be built. There should be a gas can in there too. Hattie can get hosed off while I refill the tank and load the ATV back onto the trailer.

  After taking care of the ATV, I join my hottie at the shed, so I can get cleaned up some too. Damn. Fuck me.

  Hattie is standing barefoot on the cement pad outside of the shed. Water is cascading over her chest while she rubs the mud away with her free hand. She is a walking and breathing Playboy magazine cover right now. She catches me gawking with my tongue hanging out. Her cheeks blush but she quickly recovers as I just stand and stare.

  “Come on, I’ll rinse you,” she says playfully.

  Swallowing hard, I pull my t-shirt over my head and watch as she tries not to check me out. I nearly jump out of my skin when the cold water sprays across my back. Her free hand rubs across the smooth flesh of my shoulder blades. Her fingers feel nice. I tense slightly as she traces the outline of my clover tattoo. I got it when my divorce was final hoping my luck would change.

  Her skillful fingers continue to torture me as she washes the dirt away. My eyes are closed, and my lips are parted as I wish she would take control and kiss me right now. Fighting the urge to be with her is killing me right now. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up with her. She continues her torture of rubbing the pads of her fingers around the base of my neck all around my collarbone. A groan of appreciation slips from my lips and I feel stupid. Women never make me feel self-conscious, but Hattie Mae, man, she has me overthinking every move I make.

 

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