The Right Tool (Bryant Brothers Book 3)

by Tami Lund

  Despite discovering girls late, both Kyle and Elliot had been excellent at the flirting game when Madison first met them. And Elliot had been aggressive in his pursuit of her after his brother had gone home. By date two, he insisted they were boyfriend and girlfriend, wanted to be exclusive. He also spent a lot of time talking about introducing her to his family.

  He’d told her none of his brothers had ever brought a girl home to meet their parents, and he’d been thrilled that he would be the first. It wasn’t until after the fact that Madison realized he’d been trying to impress his older siblings.

  Everyone in his family was good at something, and Elliot, at twenty-three, still hadn’t found his niche. And even though he put on a nonchalant face, acted like he didn’t care that he appeared to be a no-good lay about, she knew—or at least she suspected—that deep down, he was embarrassed, maybe even wished he could finally figure out his own life.

  For about the seven billionth time, Madison wished she had not said yes when he’d asked her out.

  Although, if she hadn’t, Camila might not have met Tommy and Madison wouldn’t have ultimately become such good friends with Kyle. So, honestly, she should be grateful for the tumultuous relationship she’d had with Elliot.

  Shower done, she dried off, dressed, and stepped out of the bathroom. “Hey,” she said, smoothing her hand over her wet hair. “Sorry you had to witness that.”

  Kyle had made himself comfortable, stretched out on her bed with his back resting against a pile of pillows propped against the headboard, his feet crossed at the ankles, his phone in his hand. She liked the way he looked there, as if he was waiting for her to join him.

  “Witness you getting drunk at 9:00 a.m.? I’m not sorry. You’re a funny drunk.”

  And then he smiled, and oh boy, she really wanted to join him in that bed.

  It would be a friends with benefits concept.

  She slapped her hand over her mouth and then mumbled through her fingers, “Ohmigod, did I really say that?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Say what?”

  “Friends with benefits. Did we…did we discuss that? Today? This morning—at the airport?”

  He didn’t need to respond. She saw the answer in the way his neck flushed, the ruddy color chasing up to burn his cheeks.

  She canted her head. “Did we…agree? To do that, I mean?”

  “Umm….”

  She cleared her throat. “Do you want to?”

  His eyes widened. He darted a glance at the door. “I, um, the condoms are in my room.”

  “Hey, at least you remembered to bring them. Wait, we hadn’t planned to do anything while we were here, at least not when you packed your bags.”

  His cheeks were practically glowing. “A guy can hope, can’t he? Especially after that first time.”

  She laughed. “Well? Do you think you can sneak over to get them?”

  He scrambled off the bed. “Yep.” And then walked into the bathroom, through the door on the other side. He came back, holding a handful of foil packets. “That’s handy, huh?”

  She nodded and swallowed thickly. “Yeah, definitely.” This meant they could potentially have sex every night, and one or the other could simply head back to their own room without fear of someone catching them. It was the best possible setup.

  Kyle gave a little jump and pulled his phone out of his pocket. After looking at the screen, he said, “Um, might have to put the plan on hold. Camila wants to know if you’re awake and how you’re feeling.”

  Madison groaned. “If you don’t respond, she’ll probably come up here. And if you do, she’ll probably come up here.”

  He gave a helpless shrug.

  She groaned and pulled her hairdryer out of her suitcase.

  “Would you mind texting her and letting her know I’m fine and that I’m drying my hair and then I’m going to grab something to eat? I’m pretty sure my family has disowned me by now, so the longer I can avoid them, the better. Although, maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it will take the pressure off Camila. Silver lining, right?”

  He frowned. “Madison, if your family disowns you over one silly incident like that, they aren’t worth worrying over.”

  Easy for him to say. His dad was proud of all of his sons, even the one who hadn’t yet figured out how to be an adult. And as terrible as it sounded, there were days when Madison would happily trade in her own mother for his.

  She waved the hairdryer. “I really am going to dry my hair, and since we can’t take advantage of this new benefits package, I suppose I should find something to eat instead. Do you want to join me?”

  He chuckled. “Yep. I’m starved, actually.”

  “Okay, I’ll hurry.” As fast as her long, thick hair would allow her to, at any rate. And then she had to take a few minutes to put on concealer and mascara since she looked like an extra from The Walking Dead. Lastly, because it was easy, she dressed in a basic, cotton sundress and slipped a pair of sandals onto her feet. It was so nice not to have to think about snow boots or a coat or hat and mittens.

  Kyle waited, patiently it appeared, and once she was ready, he said, “My parents went grocery shopping, so the kitchen is fully stocked, but everyone is still up and about. There are a couple of restaurants within walking distance if you’d rather avoid the family for a little longer.”

  It was like the man could read her mind. With a relieved smile, she said, “Let’s go check out one of those restaurants.”

  She followed him down the hall to the staircase, which deposited them in the foyer. She could hear voices and a television blaring somewhere, but no one was in the immediate vicinity.

  “Come on, let’s make our escape,” Kyle said, and she giggled as she hurried after him out the door.

  The house they’d rented was located on a canal, two blocks from the beach, and in between was a wide assortment of dining and barhopping establishments. It was a Sunday evening in warm, southwestern Florida and there were people wandering everywhere.

  “Doesn’t it feel awesome to be out and about in short sleeves and sandals in February?” she commented, looking up to admire the tall, skinny palm trees that stretched toward the darkened sky.

  He glanced at her and grinned. “Yeah. When you live in a cold climate, I think you appreciate warm weather so much more.”

  After a couple of young, drunk guys barreled down the sidewalk between them, Kyle wrapped his arm around her shoulder, presumably to help guide her around the various other people they passed on their short walk. She hesitated, waiting for him to pull away again, and when he didn’t, she slipped her arm around his waist.

  It felt good there. It felt… nice. Right. Like this was the way they were meant to walk together.

  They paused on the corner. Across the street was a row of restaurants and coffeehouses. He glanced down at her. “I’m going to assume sushi is off the menu tonight?”

  She made a face and pressed her hand to her slightly roiling tummy. “Maybe tomorrow. I mean, we can’t be in Florida without trying fresh seafood, right? But, yeah, I don’t think I can handle raw fish right now. I’m thinking more along the lines of a greasy burger and fries.”

  He chuckled and guided her across the street, his arm still slung around her shoulders.

  Did they look like a couple to the casual onlooker? Why did she even care? Because they weren’t, so who cared what they looked like to other people?

  A few minutes later, they were sliding into a booth at a typical all-American diner, while a server dressed in the beach-version of a ’50s-style waitress uniform placed menus on the table and asked if they wanted something to drink.

  “Coke, please,” Madison blurted, and Kyle snickered while he asked for a water.

  Looking over the menu, Madison commented, “I know I said I wanted a burger and fries, and that is, in fact, the ultimate hangover cure, but since we’re in Florida, I’m totally getting a Cuban. Besides, thanks to your foresight, I feel almost normal.”

&nb
sp; The server returned, took their food orders, and then left again. Madison toyed with the straw wrapper. “Was it bad? My parents, I mean. The airport is a little fuzzy, and I don’t remember seeing them again once we landed.”

  “As soon as we exited the plane, they pretty much took off to go track down your mom’s parents. And, yes, they were a little put off by your exuberance initially, but I think it was more shock than anything.”

  Madison rolled her eyes. “You know what’s sad? If it had been Camila, they probably wouldn’t have even blinked. They fully expect her to be a drunk since she used to be a bartender. Which is so stupid because I can count on one hand the number of times she’s been that wasted. And I wouldn’t even use all of my fingers, either. Clearly, they’re mistaken in believing I’m the more responsible sister.”

  “Or maybe it’s that you push yourself too hard, and when you finally decide to relax, you carry that too far too. Maybe you need to find a happy balance.”

  She definitely felt balanced after he’d given her two spectacular orgasms. At least, she had until she’d let the self-doubt creep in. And then she’d been right back where she always was: focusing on that far-away plan while feeling as though she were walking a shaky tightrope across a vast canyon, and she never seemed to get closer to the other side, no matter how many hesitant steps she took.

  Two steaming Cuban sandwiches accompanied by giant piles of fries were placed on the table, and Madison greedily grabbed hers and took a bite.

  “As delicious as I expected it to be,” she announced and then added, “Maybe you’re right. About the happy balance, I mean.”

  Kyle dove into his sandwich and didn’t reply.

  “The thing is, I just need to get to a good place first. Then I can focus on the perfect medium.”

  “Sometimes I think that if you keep waiting, your life is going to pass you by.”

  “I’m only twenty-four,” she defended herself.

  “I know. But I’m pretty sure you’re going to be saying this same song and dance when you’re twenty-five. And twenty-eight. And thirty. And—”

  “I get your point,” she said dryly. “But you’re wrong.”

  They finished their sandwiches and then squabbled over who would pick up the tab, and she finally allowed him to pay because he agreed that she could leave the tip. He didn’t put his arm around her shoulders this time, and she hated to admit it, but the inaction made her feel bereft. Which was silly. She was acting like there was something more between them than friendship.

  Okay, yes, they’d hooked up last night. And, apparently, she’d suggested when she’d been drunk this morning that they could do it again. And then she’d propositioned him right before they headed out for dinner.

  And all of that wasn’t even the most pressing concern at the forefront of her mind.

  “You okay?” Kyle asked when they reached the rental house and paused on the doorstep.

  She shook her head. “Just tired.” Which was a lie. She’d basically slept this day away, for God’s sake.

  He didn’t press, and they managed to make it inside and upstairs without getting caught—although she had no reason to think of it that way.

  He walked her to her bedroom, bid her good night, and then ambled away. She slipped inside and closed the door and then leaned back against it, her palms flat on the smooth surface as she stared into the darkness, not really seeing anything. And not because it was dark.

  Because she was thinking about their conversation over dinner.

  Was Kyle right? Was she so busy planning for the future that she was letting her life slip her by?

  Chapter Six

  A sliver of sunlight reached across the bed, waking him, and Kyle rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes.

  To stare down at a severe case of morning wood pressing against the fly of his boxer shorts.

  Not surprising after spending so much time with Madison yesterday, her propositioning him twice and not being able to follow through either time. That walk to the restaurant certainly hadn’t helped his situation, either. He’d wrapped his arm around her shoulders to guide her to one side so that she wouldn’t get run over by any more drunks, and she hadn’t cut off the connection once they were in the clear. And yeah, he’d selfishly enjoyed the sensation of pretending for a moment that they were a couple.

  That they could be a couple.

  He was ten times a fool for not letting go of that particular fantasy.

  Sure, they got along great, and his attraction to her was off the charts, but she had made it clear that there could be nothing between them except friendship and sex. He wasn’t sure how she was able to separate out the emotional aspect of having sex with someone who you respected, enjoying spending time with, and were physically attracted to, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to ask. Because if he did, she’d figure out that he wasn’t able to do that, and then they’d be relegated back to just friends.

  He stared down at his dick again, willing the monster to deflate, but while he was an expert at conjuring sexy images of Madison, he was terrible at mentally convincing his own body to chill the hell out. He was going to have to take matters into hand, literally.

  No, wait. Why not take advantage of this new benefits package in their friendship? That hand job Madison had given him in the shower was far better than anything self-ministrations he’d ever provided. Why not enjoy actual sex with another participant for as long as they could?

  But first, he needed to piss.

  Rolling out of bed, he headed for the bathroom, tugging open the door and stepping inside at the same time the door across the room opened and Madison appeared, her eyes going wide as she stared at him. He let his gaze take her in, from her mussed hair to her full lips, that long, swanlike neck, down to the top swell of her breasts, which were encased in a white camisole with lace around the edge. It may have been his imagination, but her nipples sure did seem to harden, pressing against the thin fabric, while he watched.

  He dropped his gaze to a pair of satin panties with a tiny black ribbon on the front. He couldn’t seem to drag his vision any lower so he could ogle her legs. But then again, he’d seen her long, bare legs plenty of times over the years, so he knew how gorgeous they were.

  When she made some sort of strangled noise, he was finally able to shift his focus up, above her shoulders, only to realize that she was staring right back…at his crotch. He glanced down and was relieved that Johnson wasn’t hanging out of his shorts, although he was certainly making his presence known by his swollen state.

  “Uh… morning,” he managed.

  “Morning.” She diverted her gaze to the mirror, although it sure looked like she was still focused south of his navel.

  He cleared his throat. “I, uh, need to…” He waved at the toilet.

  “Right. Go ahead. You go first.” She backed out and closed the door before he could insist he could wait, so he went ahead and peed and washed his hands before opening the door and letting her know he was done.

  “I’ll be quick,” she promised. A few minutes later, she popped open the door to his bedroom. “See? Told you.”

  Since that seemed to be an invitation, he leaned against the doorjamb while she washed her face and brushed her teeth. The bathroom could easily accommodate two people. There were two sinks carved into a long countertop with plenty of space for her various beauty supplies, along with a walk-in shower and a sunken tub next to a window overlooking the canal. Once you were in the tub, you could enjoy the view, but no one would be able to see anything beyond your head.

  Did Madison like baths? With company?

  She waved at the other sink. “Go ahead,” she said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

  He chuckled and stepped up to brush his own teeth. “Is it weird that this doesn’t feel weird?”

  She spit and rinsed and then wiped her mouth on a hand towel. Turning around, she hopped up onto the counter. “I don’t think so. Should it feel weird?”

&nb
sp; He shook his head, opened and then closed his mouth. How come he couldn’t ask her if she was interested in having sex? What was wrong with him? They had an agreement, didn’t they?

  “Uh…” He cleared his throat for what felt like a dozen times until he was finally able to say, “I should probably shower.”

  She glanced at the door with the frosted glass. “Want company?”

  He gasped like he’d been holding his breath. “Hell yes.”

  She chuckled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  He turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, and motioned for Madison to step in first. She quickly shed her cami and panties, and his entire body hardened while his gaze greedily devoured her flawless body.

  Under the spray, she turned to face him, brushing her wet hair away from her face. “Come join me.”

  He shoved his boxers to the floor and hurried to comply, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to him. She immediately puckered up, kissing him with a desperation that was so heady, he was certain this first round wouldn’t last long.

  Luckily, they had that two-orgasm rule.

  He tore his lips away. “Shit. Condom. Hang on.”

  He stepped out of the shower and hurried over to the sink to grab a packet—no, two—from his toiletry bag, and then rejoined her under the water. The floor was soaked, but he didn’t care. Pleasing Madison was much higher on his to-do list than cleaning up the flooded bathroom.

  “Come here.” He twisted her around to face away from him and then pulled her close, so that his erection was nestled between her ass cheeks. Wrapping one arm around her torso, he gently massaged her breast until she moaned and dropped her head onto his shoulder. He slid his other hand down her body to cup between her legs, stroking his finger through wet heat that wasn’t a result of the shower. Well, of the water streaming over them.