3 Seconds (Time for Love Book 6)

by Bethany Lopez

  I was falling for this woman much harder and sooner than I’d expected, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. My heart constricted as I wondered what her reaction would be. Did I tell her and risk scaring her away, or worse, have her not believe me … Or did I take some time to think things through and figure out what I was doing.

  Chapter Twelve ~ Bronagh

  Camping had been such an unexpected, wonderful treat, that I’d been racking my brain trying to figure out how I could pay Brendan back.

  I thought I’d found the perfect way to repay him, which was why I was waiting for him when he pulled his bike to the curb in front of his place, grinning like a fool.

  I could see his grin as he pulled off his helmet, and my stomach dipped in anticipation and pleasure.

  “Hey, Freckles, I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” he said as he swung his leg over the side of his bike.

  We’d both just come from the school, where it had taken all of the willpower in my possession not to attack him in the middle of the class and throw him on his station … or, at the very least, hint that I had a surprise for him.

  “You still don’t have any plans for tonight, right?” I asked coyly, suddenly worried that since we hadn’t had any, he might have made some with one of his brothers or something.

  “Nope, I’m all yours if you want,” he replied, stopping next to me and pulling me in for a very satisfying kiss.

  “I want,” I responded, licking my lips and savoring the taste of him. “I’ve got a surprise for you … You have ten minutes to get ready, then I’m stealing you away.”

  “Hmmm,” he replied, leaning down to run his tongue over the spot mine had just been. “I can’t wait.”

  Ten minutes later, we were in my car and on our way.

  I smiled over at Brendan, who was watching me sing along to the radio, his hand warm on my thigh as I drove.

  I loved that he was dressed in jeans, a band T-shirt, and a pair of worn boots. He had no idea what the surprise was, but it really didn’t matter. Brendan was Brendan, and he was comfortable in his own skin.

  It just so happened, he was dressed perfectly for where we were going.

  “So,” I began, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. “Since getting Staind tickets was impossible, I got tickets for a different concert, that I’m hoping you’ll like just as much…”

  His face softened, and the look of tenderness there caused my manic excitement to roll into a feeling of fluttery happiness.

  “You’re taking me to a concert?” he asked, his gruff tone betraying the fact that he was touched by my gesture.

  “Thirty Seconds to Mars,” I whispered, mesmerized by the way his eyes were looking over me. Like a caress.

  I tore my eyes away from him, not only because watching the road was imperative to our survival, but because I was seconds away from becoming weepy.

  I sensed him leaning toward me, so I wasn’t surprised when his thumb caressed my cheek, but when his lips followed, I practically melted from the sweetness.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, before returning to his side of the car.

  We were both silent, each of us dealing with the emotion surrounding us in our own way.

  I’d hoped he’d be excited by my gift, but his reaction made me wonder if anyone, any woman, had ever done anything like this for him before … Something that was offered with the sole purpose of making him happy.

  By the time we arrived at the venue, the mood of the car had shifted once again, and we were both brimming with excitement about the show.

  Once we were settled in our seats and the first band was on stage, Brendan said he’d go grab us some drinks and be right back. When he came back with not only the plastic cups of beer, but Thirty Seconds to Mars T-shirts for both of us, I stood up to greet him with a smile. When he whipped off the shirt he was wearing, much to the delight of me and every lady surrounding us, I laughed out loud. He looked so cute, his face beaming as he tucked his discarded shirt into his back pocket.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, unwilling to change in the crowd and opting instead to go to the nearest bathroom to switch out my cute tank top for the fitted woman’s T.

  When I got back to our seats, I gave him a long, slow kiss to show my appreciation for his gift, then settled in next to him.

  We were close enough to see Jared Leto clearly, and Brendan elbowed me in the side playfully when I let out a not at all quiet sigh. “Oh. My. God.”

  Yes, I’d bought the tickets for Brendan, but that didn’t mean that getting an up-close glimpse of the man I’d been crushing on since I first watched My So Called Life as a pre-teen, wasn’t an added bonus.

  Holy shit, he looked good!

  Brendan gave me a little shake, nudging me out of my hormone-driven stupor, and laughed when I turned to him and clapped my hands excitedly.

  “I can’t believe we’re here!”

  It was a fabulous night.

  We sang along with our favorite songs, Brendan holding a much better tune than I, and stayed until the last note of the encore was played.

  By the time we got out of the crowded parking lot, it was way later than I usually stayed out on a school night, but when Brendan asked, “You wanna stop somewhere and get breakfast?” I couldn’t say no.

  I didn’t want the night to end.

  So, even though it was almost three in the morning, and we both had to be at school the next morning, I found myself pulling into an all-night diner.

  Brendan got out first, walked around the car to open my door, then held out his hand and helped me out of the car. I swear, my insides got all gushy. I’m not sure if it was from the excitement of the evening, exhaustion, or him being a total sweetheart. Probably a combination of the three, but for the first time in years I felt like a smitten teenager, out on a date with the boy of my dreams.

  It felt amazing.

  Chapter Thirteen ~ Brendan

  Beep, beep, beep…

  “Noooooo,” I groaned as I reached a hand out and slapped at my floor, trying to find the offensive alarm clock.

  Victorious, I covered my eyes with my arm and began to silently beg for the time on that damn clock to be wrong.

  I slid my other hand beneath the covers, finding only my cell phone keeping me company. Bronagh and I had decided to sleep separately, so that we would at least get a couple hours asleep. We knew if we stayed together, we would have more than likely found something else to occupy our time.

  I peaked beneath my arm at the clock on my phone, and cursed when I realized that the time on my alarm hadn’t magically been changed, but was indeed correct.

  “Damnit!”

  I pushed the covers off my naked body and sat up slowly, pausing when I was seated to try and get the fog out of my brain.

  Last night had been unreal.

  Bronagh surprising me, being at the concert with her, then stopping for breakfast on the way home. All of it … I’d never shared a night like that with a girl before. It was pretty sad to say at my age, but it was true.

  And the fact that she’d paid attention to me, to what I enjoy, the music I like, then gave me a gift for no other reason than to make me happy … I almost didn’t know how to handle it. The joy that such a simple gesture gave me.

  Shit, I’d gotten misty over it and had to pull myself together.

  Suddenly the phone went off in my hand, scaring the shit out of me. I’d forgotten I was holding it.

  “Fuck,” I said, not thinking as I turned it on.

  “Is that any way to answer your damn phone?” Brock’s voice chastised as I brought the phone to my ear.

  “Sorry, man,” I said, running my hand over my face as I tried to come fully awake. “I’m still half asleep and the phone scared the fuck out of me.”

  “Don’t you have class this morning?”

  “Yeah,” I answered, pushing off the mattress and getting to my feet. “I’m getting ready to go now.”

  “We haven’t see
n you in a while,” he said gruffly, and I knew he’d probably gotten up early just to get in touch with me before school. We didn’t usually go this long without seeing each other, or at least checking in, but I’d been so caught up in Bronagh, that I hadn’t reached out as usual.

  “Yeah, sorry, I’ve been busy.”

  “Well, get unbusy,” Brock ordered. “Tori and Dec miss seeing you, so you need to stop by … soon.”

  I grinned in response. What he really meant was that he wanted to see me.

  “Yeah, okay, does tomorrow work? I can stop by the shop.”

  “See you then.”

  “Later,” I said, then turned off my phone and grabbed some clothes off the floor, hoping like hell they weren’t funky.

  I rolled up to class with minutes to spare, so the hallway was empty, except for me and Bronagh heading toward our classroom from opposite directions.

  She paused a few feet from the door, off to the side so the students already inside couldn’t see her.

  Her eyes were dancing, even though the circles under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.

  “Hey,” she said softly, a small smile playing on her lips. “You get any sleep last night?”

  “Not enough,” I admitted, then added, “But it was totally worth it. Those pancakes were delicious.”

  Bronagh chuckled at that, then gestured silently for me to enter the room before her.

  I was still grinning as I crossed to my station, but when Calla came up to me and asked, “Can I talk to you later?” the smile fell from my face and I said, “Not today. I’ve got a ton to catch up on and am running on no sleep. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Calla looked like she wanted to argue, but Bronagh chose that moment to come in and start the class.

  I was running on autopilot, which is always dangerous when working with knives, but I managed to make it through the first class unscathed.

  As my next instructor droned on about what we’d be working on for the rest of the week, my mind wandered to the beautiful freckled red-head in my life. I thought of her as she looked in the tent, lying under me as we made love … Then flashed to her singing, totally out of tune, along with the radio as we drove to the concert. She was more than beautiful. She was smart, funny, generous, and the sexist woman I’d ever seen.

  Unable, or maybe unwilling, to put a name on the emotions I was feeling, I had the overwhelming need to at least get these feelings … those images … down on paper.

  I needed to write. One song, two … I wouldn’t know until I got started, but I needed to get this out of me before I imploded.

  Chapter Fourteen ~ Bronagh

  “Chef, do you have a minute?”

  Behind my desk, I looked up from the recipe I was tinkering with to see Calla, one of my students, standing at the door, her back stiff and head held high as always. I wondered if it hurt to always stand so erect, at the same time I thought the petite blonde would be pretty if she didn’t always look so hard.

  “Of course, Calla, come on in,” I answered, waving to the empty seat in front of my desk and hoping the fact that I was about to fall over from exhaustion wasn’t apparent.

  I hadn’t had much interaction with the young chef, but from what I’d seen so far, what she lacked in talent, she made up for in determination. I’d worked with people like her plenty of times throughout the years, and knew that there was little she’d let stand in her way.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “As you know, in just a few short weeks, the semester will be over, ending my career as a culinary student, and pushing me on my path to become a great chef.” When I nodded, she continued. “As you also know, there is a prestigious job with Chef Agard waiting for the top student.” She pressed her palms to my desk and leaned toward me. “I fully intend to be that student.”

  I pulled her information up on the computer, perused the screen, and told her, “Calla, your practical assignments and theory tests all show that you’re doing great. I’m sure your final exam will be no problem. You’re a strong candidate for the position with Chef Agard.”

  “I know all that,” she said with a scowl. “But I also know I’m not the strongest candidate … Brendan O’Malley is standing in my way.”

  Alarmed by her choice of words, I asked lightly, “What do you mean by that?”

  “We all know that Brendan is top of the class, and he wants that job as much as I do…”

  Distracted by her words, I didn’t follow what she was saying, because I wondered if what she said was true. Does Brendan want that job with Chef Agard in France, and if so, what is he doing with me? Wasting time?

  “I’m sorry?” I asked when I realized Calla was waiting for me to respond to something she said.

  “I said … If Brendan is doing anything that will disqualify him for the position, I won’t hesitate to bring it to light…” She watched my face, waiting for me to realize that she was insinuating that she knew what was going on between Brendan and me, and was threatening to turn us in if she didn’t get top of the class, and the job she coveted.

  My back stiffened at her threat, but I schooled my features, not willing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I’d dealt with plenty of women like her throughout my career, and even though she was correct in her assumption, I didn’t appreciate being blackmailed.

  I laced my fingers together and kept my eyes locked on hers as I replied, “While I can appreciate your drive, I have to say that your obvious contempt for Mr. O’Malley won’t help you win that position. All you can do is work hard and perform at your best level. The opening with Chef Agard will go to the student he deems appropriate.”

  Calla stood and said, “Just remember what I said. Thanks for your time.”

  I waited until she walked out to allow my emotions to rise to the surface. Although my first instinct was to seek out Brendan, I knew that would only give her the fuel she desired. I decided I’d rather hold off on telling him until we were alone again, then I’d let him know what was going on.

  Once I was able to get home, take a shower, and calm myself down, I called Brendan and asked if he had any plans that night. He told me he was working on a song but to come on by, he’d leave the door unlocked.

  I picked up takeout from my favorite Thai restaurant, and went to his loft.

  His place had really started to grow on me. I loved the funky, creative vibe it had, and could understand why he loved to write in his space. Sure, it didn’t scream “a grownup lives here,” but it suited Brendan.

  I put the bags of food on the counter, then walked into the sitting area to see him bent over his desk, writing furiously with a pencil. He wore a black knit beanie, his hair sticking out from underneath, still dripping wet from his shower, a pair of basketball shorts, and nothing else.

  I gave myself the pleasure of taking in the muscles of his back and I padded quietly through the room, telling myself I didn’t want to interrupt him, when what I really wanted was more time to watch him unnoticed.

  He was truly a beautiful man. All long, lean, and tattooed … His appearance seemed effortless in its coolness, and his authenticity only made him more appealing.

  Once I was close enough, I leaned down and placed my lips gently on his shoulder, my lips curving when he jumped at the contact.

  “Sorry,” I said with a laugh. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  He looked up with a grin, his green eyes struggling to focus on me after being so intent on the page.

  “Hey,” he replied, then brought his hand up to cup the back of my head and lowered it so that our lips met.

  The kiss was brief but effective, and I pulled away reluctantly.

  “I brought food.”

  “Awesome, just let me finish up and I’ll be right there.”

  I nodded and retreated to the kitchen, where I began dishing up the Coconut Curry with rice.

  I let him get a few bites in before I broached the subject that had been bugging me all afternoon.

&nb
sp; “Calla stopped by my office today…”

  Brendan’s head shot up and he asked warily, “What about?”

  “She’s suspicious about us, and was fishing around for conformation. She threatened to report us if she doesn’t beat you out for the job in France.”

  “Calla threatened you?” he asked, putting down the fork as his eyes narrowed fiercely.

  I ignored his question, instead focusing on the one that I wanted answers to. “Are you competing with her for the job?”

  “Well, yeah,” Brendan answered with a frown. “At least, I was…”

  “You were? Why past tense?” I asked, needing to know.

  “Because the job’s in France,” he answered, telling what I already knew. “I learned a lot during the short period I was in France with Chef Agard, and thought it would be a great opportunity to work with him again, but I don’t want the job anymore. I don’t want to leave my family again,” he stated, then brought his hand up to caress my cheek and added, “And I don’t want to leave you. I told you, Freckles, I want to see where this thing between us is going, and I can’t do that in France. I can talk to Calla; if she knows I’m not interested in the position, she’ll back off…”

  “No, don’t give her the satisfaction. We can’t give in to threats or blackmail, that’ll just fuel her on. If she gets the job fair and square, that’s one thing, but you can’t just hand it to her on a silver platter. I took care of her today, and will address the issue again when the need arises.”

  “I love it when you talk like a teacher,” he said, leaning in to brush his lips against mine.

  “It would be a great opportunity,” I said softly, feeling like I should encourage him to take it even if I didn’t want him to.

  “This is more important,” he replied, causing my insides to go all gooey. When his lips captured mine and he kissed me properly, I tried to tamp down the hope and promise of his words, while at the same time hoping to convey with my response that I felt the same way.