lucky none of them were seriously hurt,” Brooke said. She had a cramp in her side from laughing and massaged it with her fingers.
“It’d take much more than that to injure a—” Bruiser jerked his gaze to hers and the smile dropped from his face. He cleared his throat. “You got groceries you need help carrying in?”
Brooke canted her head and frowned. “To injure a what?”
“What?”
“That’s what I’m asking. You said it would take much more to injure, then you let it drop. Injure a what, Bruiser?”
“Man with that many beers in his system. Come on.” The humor in his face was gone as he turned and marched away.
She followed slowly. That wasn’t what he was about to say. “What’s going on?” she asked.
Bruiser ignored her and jogged to her car, as if attempting to escape her questions.
“Fine. Keep your stupid secrets.”
“Tagan’s planning a celebration for you tonight.” Bruiser pulled open the back door to her car and tugged out a couple of shopping bags.
Brooke locked her legs and skidded to a stop. “A celebration for what?” Please, God, don’t let it be for painting again. Her issues were not something she wanted to make public knowledge here.
“It’s a welcome to the park celebration. At least, that’s what he said on the phone. He’s picking up supplies in town for a barbecue. You’ll die and go straight to heaven when you taste the food tonight.”
He was distracting her, but okay. It was better than awkward silence. “Oh. Well, is there anything I can bring?”
“Just yourself. You’re queen of this place now. Let us spoil you like good old boys know how.”
A grin cracked her face, and she ducked her chin before he could see it. Maybe Connor had been right to call her princess. She was a trailer park princess now. Her friends back home would crap themselves if they knew how happy she was in this place. It was the first time in months she’d been able to smile without feeling some awful sense of guilt. Here, the troubles of the city seemed far away.
Bruiser did most of the heavy lifting with her groceries and art supplies, and when she went out to check that they hadn’t missed a bag, she noticed Brighton hauling heavy-looking metal buckets of water over to the back of his truck. The weight looked substantial, but it didn’t seem to slow him down one little bit. The edges of a blue tarp flapped in the wind over the sides of the truck bed, so she meandered over there to see what he was doing. Bruiser followed.
“What are you doing?” she asked Brighton.
The man didn’t talk, but his animated expressions conveyed complete thoughts. The twinkle in his eyes was downright naughty, and he twitched his head toward the blue tarp that lined the bed completely. It was already holding water, and when he dumped the huge vats of hot water into it, the surface began to steam.
“Did you make a hot tub?”
Brighton nodded slowly and twitched his head toward the back again.
“You want me to go swimming?” she asked.
He nodded and grinned like he was daring her.
She looked at the steaming water again, then back to Brighton to gauge if he was joking. It was obvious he thought she’d say no, and something about that bothered her.
“I’ll put my swimsuit on.”
Bruiser chuckled, and Brighton’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
She bit back the smile as she jogged back to her trailer. Thank goodness, she’d decided to shave this morning. It wasn’t easy either. There were only five minutes of hot water in 1010, and she had shaved at the speed of light. She had three cuts to show from her Olympic-style razor race, too, but hey, at least she was smooth for the little two-piece she’d brought in case the “fancy rental” had a pool.
She changed in record time and slipped into a pink fuzzy robe and glittery black flip flops, then speed-walked back to Brighton’s truck.
Brighton was already lounging in the hillbilly hot tub, and Bruiser was leaning against the
“It’d take much more than that to injure a—” Bruiser jerked his gaze to hers and the smile dropped from his face. He cleared his throat. “You got groceries you need help carrying in?”
Brooke canted her head and frowned. “To injure a what?”
“What?”
“That’s what I’m asking. You said it would take much more to injure, then you let it drop. Injure a what, Bruiser?”
“Man with that many beers in his system. Come on.” The humor in his face was gone as he turned and marched away.
She followed slowly. That wasn’t what he was about to say. “What’s going on?” she asked.
Bruiser ignored her and jogged to her car, as if attempting to escape her questions.
“Fine. Keep your stupid secrets.”
“Tagan’s planning a celebration for you tonight.” Bruiser pulled open the back door to her car and tugged out a couple of shopping bags.
Brooke locked her legs and skidded to a stop. “A celebration for what?” Please, God, don’t let it be for painting again. Her issues were not something she wanted to make public knowledge here.
“It’s a welcome to the park celebration. At least, that’s what he said on the phone. He’s picking up supplies in town for a barbecue. You’ll die and go straight to heaven when you taste the food tonight.”
He was distracting her, but okay. It was better than awkward silence. “Oh. Well, is there anything I can bring?”
“Just yourself. You’re queen of this place now. Let us spoil you like good old boys know how.”
A grin cracked her face, and she ducked her chin before he could see it. Maybe Connor had been right to call her princess. She was a trailer park princess now. Her friends back home would crap themselves if they knew how happy she was in this place. It was the first time in months she’d been able to smile without feeling some awful sense of guilt. Here, the troubles of the city seemed far away.
Bruiser did most of the heavy lifting with her groceries and art supplies, and when she went out to check that they hadn’t missed a bag, she noticed Brighton hauling heavy-looking metal buckets of water over to the back of his truck. The weight looked substantial, but it didn’t seem to slow him down one little bit. The edges of a blue tarp flapped in the wind over the sides of the truck bed, so she meandered over there to see what he was doing. Bruiser followed.
“What are you doing?” she asked Brighton.
The man didn’t talk, but his animated expressions conveyed complete thoughts. The twinkle in his eyes was downright naughty, and he twitched his head toward the blue tarp that lined the bed completely. It was already holding water, and when he dumped the huge vats of hot water into it, the surface began to steam.
“Did you make a hot tub?”
Brighton nodded slowly and twitched his head toward the back again.
“You want me to go swimming?” she asked.
He nodded and grinned like he was daring her.
She looked at the steaming water again, then back to Brighton to gauge if he was joking. It was obvious he thought she’d say no, and something about that bothered her.
“I’ll put my swimsuit on.”
Bruiser chuckled, and Brighton’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
She bit back the smile as she jogged back to her trailer. Thank goodness, she’d decided to shave this morning. It wasn’t easy either. There were only five minutes of hot water in 1010, and she had shaved at the speed of light. She had three cuts to show from her Olympic-style razor race, too, but hey, at least she was smooth for the little two-piece she’d brought in case the “fancy rental” had a pool.
She changed in record time and slipped into a pink fuzzy robe and glittery black flip flops, then speed-walked back to Brighton’s truck.
Brighton was already lounging in the hillbilly hot tub, and Bruiser was leaning against the
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