Brian. I’m helping out with Cam’s kids every afternoon. We’ve all had a long day so we ordered pizza.”
Brian barely gives Cam a lift of his head before looking back to me and insists, “I’ll take you for dessert.”
“Not tonight. I’ve been cleaning and I’m tired. I need a shower and the kids need to get to bed early. You shouldn’t have come. We were about to go in,” I say pointedly.
His finger comes back to my neck and circles a piece of unruly hair that’s fallen from my pony-tail. He gives it a slight tug when he insists, “I’ll stay, you shower and we can settle in after the boys go to bed.”
I can’t help myself from swatting at his hand like you would a pesky fly when I snap, “I don’t think so.”
Brian can tell he’s pushed too much, further than he’s ever pushed before. He sighs and tries, “Maybe later in the week.”
“Sorry,” I say. I go with the first thing I can think of, “We might get together with my parents. The days seem to fly by.”
“Fine,” he says frustrated, barely giving in. “I’ll call you—make sure you’re locked in.”
“There’s no need. I’m capable of locking doors, Brian. I’ll talk to you next week,” I say, doing my best to put him off.
He gives Cam one more glare before looking back to me and adds while brushing my cheek with his thumb, “Let me know if you need anything.”
I jerk again, pissed by his actions but not wanting to make a scene and simply say, “Bye.”
Cam and Brian both nod, unfriendly-like, never uttering a word to one another during Brian’s short visit. I watch him move to his car then down at least a quarter of my beer. I don’t want it to show how angry I am and try to control my temper.
“You two together?” I hear from my side.
“No,” I huff, trying not to huff it, but huffing it all the same.
“You sure?” he asks.
I look at him and answer with a one syllable word but say it with two, “Yeah.”
Cam lifts one eyebrow and enlightens me, “He wants you.”
“You don’t know that,” I say with attitude, even though after tonight, I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s right.
“He wants you,” Cam repeats.
“He doesn’t,” I insist.
“You have a dick?” he asks.
This makes my mouth drop in complete shock. He did not just say that to me.
“I can’t believe you,” I say, completely stunned by his bluntness. “That does not warrant an answer.”
“Yeah, he wants you,” Cam drawls, for the third time.
“What makes you so sure of this fact, Just Cam ?”
“Darlin’,” he starts and lowers his voice, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “I have a dick.”
I take in an audible breath. I can’t help it, my eyes wander down his body and I feel my face warm with a blush. No, not warm. I feel as if my face is going to combust it’s so hot. Shit. I hate blushing more than anything. It makes me feel stupid and girly. Damn it.
I look back to the yard and even though I want to hold my beer to my face to cool myself off, I can’t without looking like an idiot. Instead, I take another swig and wonder how I can bow out quickly from our time on the patio.
“Paige,” I hear him say my name for the first time. He calls it sort of soft, not with a drawl and not pissed. Not even frustrated. When I look over, he’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His beer is dangling from his fingers and his head is tipped to the side with a small smile playing inside his goatee, “I gotta say, darlin’, I like that. I liked it last night, but I like it even better tonight.”
“What?” I barely hear my own voice, hating that I’m at a loss for words. I mean, I am who I am. I’m never at a loss for words.
He leans back in his chair without looking away from me, “You know what.”
“Oh,” I mumble and turn back toward the yard. If I didn’t feel flushed, I think I might faint and I’ve never
Brian barely gives Cam a lift of his head before looking back to me and insists, “I’ll take you for dessert.”
“Not tonight. I’ve been cleaning and I’m tired. I need a shower and the kids need to get to bed early. You shouldn’t have come. We were about to go in,” I say pointedly.
His finger comes back to my neck and circles a piece of unruly hair that’s fallen from my pony-tail. He gives it a slight tug when he insists, “I’ll stay, you shower and we can settle in after the boys go to bed.”
I can’t help myself from swatting at his hand like you would a pesky fly when I snap, “I don’t think so.”
Brian can tell he’s pushed too much, further than he’s ever pushed before. He sighs and tries, “Maybe later in the week.”
“Sorry,” I say. I go with the first thing I can think of, “We might get together with my parents. The days seem to fly by.”
“Fine,” he says frustrated, barely giving in. “I’ll call you—make sure you’re locked in.”
“There’s no need. I’m capable of locking doors, Brian. I’ll talk to you next week,” I say, doing my best to put him off.
He gives Cam one more glare before looking back to me and adds while brushing my cheek with his thumb, “Let me know if you need anything.”
I jerk again, pissed by his actions but not wanting to make a scene and simply say, “Bye.”
Cam and Brian both nod, unfriendly-like, never uttering a word to one another during Brian’s short visit. I watch him move to his car then down at least a quarter of my beer. I don’t want it to show how angry I am and try to control my temper.
“You two together?” I hear from my side.
“No,” I huff, trying not to huff it, but huffing it all the same.
“You sure?” he asks.
I look at him and answer with a one syllable word but say it with two, “Yeah.”
Cam lifts one eyebrow and enlightens me, “He wants you.”
“You don’t know that,” I say with attitude, even though after tonight, I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s right.
“He wants you,” Cam repeats.
“He doesn’t,” I insist.
“You have a dick?” he asks.
This makes my mouth drop in complete shock. He did not just say that to me.
“I can’t believe you,” I say, completely stunned by his bluntness. “That does not warrant an answer.”
“Yeah, he wants you,” Cam drawls, for the third time.
“What makes you so sure of this fact, Just Cam ?”
“Darlin’,” he starts and lowers his voice, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “I have a dick.”
I take in an audible breath. I can’t help it, my eyes wander down his body and I feel my face warm with a blush. No, not warm. I feel as if my face is going to combust it’s so hot. Shit. I hate blushing more than anything. It makes me feel stupid and girly. Damn it.
I look back to the yard and even though I want to hold my beer to my face to cool myself off, I can’t without looking like an idiot. Instead, I take another swig and wonder how I can bow out quickly from our time on the patio.
“Paige,” I hear him say my name for the first time. He calls it sort of soft, not with a drawl and not pissed. Not even frustrated. When I look over, he’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His beer is dangling from his fingers and his head is tipped to the side with a small smile playing inside his goatee, “I gotta say, darlin’, I like that. I liked it last night, but I like it even better tonight.”
“What?” I barely hear my own voice, hating that I’m at a loss for words. I mean, I am who I am. I’m never at a loss for words.
He leans back in his chair without looking away from me, “You know what.”
“Oh,” I mumble and turn back toward the yard. If I didn’t feel flushed, I think I might faint and I’ve never
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