by Abby Niles
She moved closer to Brody, lifted up on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. The stubble on his jaw was rough against her lips, but it didn’t stop another excited quiver from hitting down low. She inhaled his cologne—a spicy, earthy blend. He’d always worn this cologne. When someone passed by her and she caught a whiff of it, she always thought of him. Because it was just Brody.
She pulled back. “Thank you.”
His throat worked, and he shifted away from her. The move hurt, but she brushed it aside. Brody had made it clear over dinner that even if he felt the spark between them, he was not going to act on it. She had to respect that.
Besides, she could use a friend of the opposite sex to help her through all this.
“Are you ready to call it a night?” he asked.
A sad smile came to her lips. No. She could stay out here all night. But it was time to let him off the hook.
“Yeah.”
They walked back to her room in silence. As they reached her door, Brody handed her the shoes, and she took them, biting her bottom lip. She wanted to give him a tight hug for everything he’d done for her tonight.
Should she? She didn’t want to freak him out more. It was just a hug, though.
All right, she was doing it. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him from the side. He held himself rigid beneath her, then his body relaxed. The heavy weight of his muscular arm settled across her shoulders, and he squeezed her closer.
Before she made him uncomfortable, she pulled back slightly, but his arm prevented her from putting distance between their bodies. As she glanced up, their eyes connected. Heat resided in his gaze, and she froze, her breath catching in her lungs. She couldn’t look away.
His arms slipped to her waist, his hand cupping the curve of her hip as his grip tightened. Her heart beat faster. Chest tight, she laid her palm above his pec, and a muscle jumped beneath her hand.
Brody skimmed his knuckles softly across her cheek. “You have no idea,” he murmured.
When he didn’t elaborate, just grazed her skin again with his knuckles, she whispered, “No idea about what, Brody?”
Blinking, he instantly let his arm fall away from her and then stepped back, rubbing the nape of his neck. What was he talking about? She stepped toward him, but when he took a quick shift away, she froze.
“Brody?”
He shook his head. “Go to bed, Scarlett.”
“But—”
“Go to bed.” He spun and stalked down the hall.
Watching him go, she replayed what had happened between them in her mind. She may be rusty at reading men, but there was no way she had misinterpreted that moment.
Brody had wanted to kiss her.
And she was shocked by how much she wished he had.
Chapter Five
You have no idea.
Brody raked his hand down his face, then grabbed the tiny glass and shot the whiskey down his throat, enjoying the burn as it traveled to his stomach.
Why had he fucking said that?
With her gazing up at him, all he could think about was that she had no idea how much power she had over him, and the words had spilled out. He’d come so damn close to kissing her the way he’d always wanted. She would’ve accepted the kiss, too. Then what?
Then they got back to Atlanta, she and Ryan had a long heart-to-heart, and decided they wanted to try and make things work. Yeah, not a road he was interested in traveling.
“Where the hell have you been all day?”
Hiding.
He glanced over as Blake pulled back one of the bar stools and perched on the edge of it. Brody had stayed in his room all day, not wanting to chance bumping into Scarlett. But between Ryan still blowing up his phone, and his thoughts about Scarlett, he’d about driven himself mad. All he wanted was a few drinks to dull his senses.
“Taking it easy today,” Brody replied. “Tomorrow’s going to be nuts.”
Tessa’s wedding.
Since they’d gone their separate ways yesterday, he hadn’t heard from his sister. He wasn’t sure what that meant. Until she came to him, he’d give her space, though. The last thing she needed was big brother breathing down her neck while she made this difficult decision. If she went through with the wedding, he’d support her. If she didn’t, he’d be there, too.
“Thank God all I have to do is show up tomorrow.” Blake motioned to the bartender then to Brody’s shot glass. The guy stepped over, pulled out another glass, and filled both. His cousin turned his head toward him. “So, what’s up?”
“What do you mean?”
“Cuz, I’ve known you since birth. You don’t belly up to a bar unless something’s bugging you.”
Brody sighed. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“Wouldn’t have something to do with a certain blonde hottie, would it?”
“That obvious, huh?” he scoffed softly and shook his head.
“Well, when my usually level-headed cousin suddenly goes guard dog over another man’s wife it kind of gets your attention. That goes beyond the best friend duty, bro.” Blake shot back his whiskey, and Brody followed suit. “How long have you been feeling her?”
If there was anyone he could trust to talk to, it was Blake. “Too long.”
“And where’s her husband?”
“Shacked up with someone else.”
“That fucker.” Blake blew out a harsh breath. “That was what her public meltdown was all about the other night.”
“Yeah.”
“I wish I could say I was surprised, but Ryan has always been a douchebag.”
Blake’s feelings for Ryan never made a lick of sense to Brody. The Ryan he knew had always been a genuine friend. “What’s your issue with him, man?”
His cousin’s jaw tightened. “It was a long time ago.”
“No joke. You’ve had a grudge against Ryan since we were teens. You never told me why.”
“It didn’t involve you. You and Ryan were solid. He and I had issues. No reason to cause friction between you two because he was a fuckhead.”
Curiosity was getting the best of him now. “What happened?”
Blake gestured for another round of shots. “He fucked around with Bianca.”
Bianca was Blake’s long-term girlfriend in high school. To everyone’s shock, including his own, they broke up right before graduation. Blake left town, and Ryan had never mentioned anything to Brody about it. Not that he should be surprised now, not with all the recent lies. “That’s why you left town.”
“Fuck yeah, that’s why I left town. What no one knows is she was pregnant. She let me believe it was mine. Never told me it was possibly Ryan’s.”
Eyes wide, Brody shifted his body toward his cousin. “She was pregnant?”
“Yep. I was young and terrified out of my mind, but I was excited, too, you know? I loved Bianca. I saw my future with her.” He shot the liqueur back and slammed the glass on the table. “She tried to end things with Ryan, which pissed him off. Ryan cheerfully let me know that Bianca had been warming his bed. I confronted her, and she told the truth. She swore that baby was mine. I’ll never know if it was. She miscarried a week later.”
“Damn, cuz. I’m sorry.”
Blake shrugged. “It was a long time ago. It fucked me up for a while, but I joined the Marines and left. Best decision I ever made.”
“Do you forgive Bianca?”
“I really don’t think about her much at all. Being back in Atlanta this past year I’ve, of course, heard about her. You can’t bump into anyone from the fucking past without them catching you up on every goddamn detail you’ve missed. She went on to college. Got her degree. Married. Has a kid. I’m happy for her.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“What’s to forgive? We were young. Stupid. It all worked out the way it was supposed to. I like my life. I can’t imagine what it’d be like right now if things had turned out different. Unanswered prayers and all that shit, yo
u know?”
Brody did know. Unfortunately, one of his prayers had been answered and he felt horrible about it.
Two females started singing “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” behind him then broke out into a peel of giggles. Brody stiffened as Blake glanced behind him.
“Well, well, well. Speak of the devil.”
Scarlett.
Brody shifted on the bar stool until he faced the small stage. Scarlett and Delaney each had an arm around the other and were singing at the top of their lungs, slurring their words.
“You’d think she wouldn’t touch another drink after the other night,” Blake muttered.
He was actually thinking the exact same thing.
Scarlett’s eyes connected with his. She instantly stopped singing and began waving in an overly dramatic fashion. “Brody! Hey!”
Then she and Delaney laughed again. Brody rubbed his face, trying to keep from smiling. He didn’t like seeing Scarlett drunk again, but there were no men around, and no flirting, so there was no harm in it at this moment.
“She’s a beauty,” Blake said, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Yes, she is.”
“She’s free now. I don’t see why you can’t go after her.”
“Except she’s Ryan’s ex.”
Blake’s nose scrunched in distaste. “That fucker doesn’t deserve your loyalty, dude.”
“Ryan has never done anything to me but be a damn good friend. Yeah, I’m starting to see he has a side of him that I don’t really care for, but again, he didn’t do that to me. Just because he can’t keep his dick in his pants, doesn’t mean he hasn’t been a great friend.”
Blake hmphed. “As far as I’m concerned, the moment he put his dick in another woman, his wife became fair game. And you know me—I don’t fuck around with married women.”
Man, he wished it were that simple. It just wasn’t. Blake would never see it the same way Brody did. Not with his feelings toward Ryan. “Yeah, well, I’m not getting between a husband and a wife who have only been separated a few days. That’s asking for drama I don’t want, especially if they decide to make another go at it after the emotions wear off.”
“Now, that’s truth.”
The girls finished their song and hurried unsteadily toward them. How much had they kicked back already?
Scarlett stopped beside him. “What are you guys up to?”
Blake held up a shot glance and shook it.
“Us, too.”
“Uh, Scarlett,” Brody hedged. “Is drinking a good idea?”
She laughed and laid her hand on his arm; a thrill shot through him, and he had to force himself not to move away from her touch. “No flirting tonight. Delaney and I had a great day, and it’s all about having fun.”
Brody ran his fingers through his hair simply to knock off Scarlett’s hand. Thankfully it worked, and she didn’t seem to notice the move.
“What did you do today?”
“We swam with pigs,” Delaney exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
An amused snort came out of Blake. “I’ve never seen a woman that excited about pigs.”
Delaney shot him a look of exaggerated annoyance. “Have you ever swum with pigs?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Then hush it. You have no idea how freaking awesome it is.” She fished out her phone, flicked through it, then held up a picture of her and Scarlett laughing as a swarm of pigs swam around them. Technically, they weren’t swimming with them, just standing in thigh-high water, but who was he to burst her bubble.
A grin spread on Blake’s face. “Okay, that does look pretty cool. I might need to check this out before I leave.”
“Do so, it’s worth the extra cost.”
Blake looked over at Brody then back at the girls. “You girls want to join us tonight? See what kind of trouble we can get into?”
Brody glared at his cousin. He sure as fuck didn’t need him trying to play hookup. Then he noticed the appreciative way his cousin’s gaze roamed over Delaney in her short jean skirt and black halter top. Maybe Blake was trying to get his own hookup. Brody sure as hell wasn’t going to cock-block him.
Delaney pursed her lips as her eyes traveled over Blake, returning the heated interest. “Definitely.”
Scarlett shot the same look at her friend that Brody had shot at Blake. At least they were on the same page again. Last night had almost turned disastrous. He couldn’t afford a repeat.
“Brody, sing with me,” Scarlett said out of nowhere.
He fought a groan. Damn it, he should’ve expected this. Scarlett loved karaoke. He did, too. Before he’d started keeping his distance, they’d done a lot of duets together…with Ryan watching in the audience. No matter how hard she’d begged, Ryan would never get on that stage. But Brody always had, always mindful of the fact her husband was only a few feet away.
This time wouldn’t be the same.
What song would she want to sing? Something lovey-dovey? God, he hoped not.
“Brody?” she said when he remained silent.
“Sure,” he finally relented, unable to disappoint her. “What do you want to sing?”
A grin spread her lips, and she did a little happy shimmy, then she took off for the DJ without answering his question. Brody rubbed his face again. Please, let it be a Disney song. “A Whole New World,” or “Let It Go.” He would gladly get down with some Elsa right now, like he did with his four-year old niece. As long as it wasn’t some song that had a secret meaning to him.
A few seconds later, she returned. Her impish expression didn’t bode well for him.
“We’re next.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him off the stool. He tried to keep his mind off the fact they were holding hands. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this plenty of time in the past. Except, now they’d had a moment. A real moment. One full of electricity and heat. And something as innocent as her holding his hand, tugging him along behind her, wasn’t so innocent anymore.
When they stepped in front of the microphone stands, she grabbed hers and he took his.
Then the strummed beat of Grease’s “You’re The One That I Want” started. He resisted another urge to groan. Just the title said too much about his current frame of mind.
Pushing aside the thought, he brought the mic to his mouth and started singing his lines. And, damn, if he didn’t get chills every damn time she touched him. Made him feel like he was losing control with every glance and every goddamn word she uttered.
Scarlett raised the mic then turned and pressed her back into his side as she sang. As much as he wanted her heart to be set on him like the words she sang, he knew that was never going to happen.
God, he was driving himself nuts.
When they reached the chorus, he forced himself to have fun and forget about how each lyric was an echo of his wants. As they ooh, ooh, oohed, he swung his hips behind her in the dramatic way John Travolta had in the movie. The amused giggle that interrupted her singing made his chest expand, and he felt a grin come to his lips.
Then she turned, faced him, and slid her hands up her body.
The throaty, seductive purr in her voice telling him to feel her grabbed him right by the balls and refused to let go. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her hands gliding over her breasts. His grip on the mic loosened. He juggled with it before it could hit the floor, missing the next few lines. Once he had it back into a firm grip, he glanced back up at Scarlett, and pure pleasure shined back at him.
He pressed his lips together. She’d done that on purpose. Oh, two could play at this game.
Brody behaved until they got to the last few lines, then he turned toward her, placed his hands low on her hips, and started the Travolta shimmy. He moved toward her as his head lowered toward her chest. She froze for a second, her throat working on a swallow, before she collected herself, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and shimmied with him. He allowed his hands to rub up and down her h
ips, enjoying the feel of the silky material of her dress under his hands.
He was playing with fire, and for first time, he didn’t give a shit if he was.
Dancing with her, feeling this electricity again, was fucking worth it.
The song came to an end, and the crowd hooted and clapped, but Brody didn’t want to let her go. He wanted the song to continue, to stay in this fantasy with her, created by a movie from long ago. But he forced himself to drop his hands and step back.
She stared up at him for a moment then said, “Thank you,” and left the stage. He followed, his gaze locked on the sway of her ass. The last couple of shots he’d done with Blake were lowering his inhibitions. He was walking on dangerous ground.
And he wasn’t sure if he minded.
…
The flying white ball sped straight for Brody’s face, and he ducked. Scarlett doubled over as a fit of giggles overtook her.
“You’re horrible at this,” he said, chuckling.
She had a stich in her side, and she pressed her hand to it. God, she’d missed Brody.
Wanting to listen to one of the live bands, Blake and Delaney had left them alone about two hours ago. Scarlett had no interest in sitting and listening tonight—she wanted to do.
Brody had picked up on that, and had offered to go do with her so Delaney and Blake could go to the concert. She’d been laughing ever since.
First, they sang a few more songs, then, moved on to darts at another bar. When after ten turns she still hadn’t made the stupid dart stick into the board, Brody had taken mercy on her, and they’d moved on to shuffleboard, which they both sucked at. Now, they were trying their hand at table tennis, and Brody kept having to dodge her missiles.
“I never claimed to be good at sports, you know.” She grabbed her beer and took a long chug. She’d kept her alcohol consumption under some control and wasn’t downing shots like there was no tomorrow. Two drinks an hour. Just enough to lower her usual reserve and let a pleasant buzz warm her insides.
