“She sounds like a peach,” I chimed in.
“She is. And you don’t have to look far to figure out where she got it from. My parents are…” Her pretty face turned down in a frown.
“Whatever your parents are can’t be that bad. They raised you, and you’re nothing like you described your sister.”
Her eyes cast across the interior of the car, locking on me.
For endless beats I stared at the road ahead, my hands gripping the wheel for dear life while my cock pulsed painfully against my pants.
Shit, what was this girl doing to me?
“Thank you for letting me…spill everything.”
“I appreciate the briefing. I won’t be too shocked when your sister starts throwing plates and screaming at the caterers now.” Bryn chuckled, eyes crinkling adorably as she turned her gaze back out the window. “I was going to ask why we didn’t have a rehearsal dinner to attend, but now I have a feeling I know.”
“Yeah, I bailed on that shit. Told them I had an appointment I just couldn't break.” She shrugged, shooting me a wry grin. The way she said it so matter-of-factly surprised me. She was unlike any woman I’d ever met in my life. She was so much sweeter than I could have imagined, so much funnier, and the way she smelled...I could bathe myself in her every day and be one happy son of a bitch.
“You look beautiful, Bryn.” I slipped my palm above her knee, pinky hovering at the hem of her thin little cocktail dress.
“Thank you,” she whispered, shifting her face back to me before dropping to my throat. “How did you know to wear red?”
“What?” I asked, glancing at her quickly before turning my eyes back to the road.
“Your red tie—it matches my shoes.” She gestured to the shimmering red heels on her feet.
“Luck, I guess.” I shrugged, playing off my lie. I’d had a feeling she’d wear those shoes tonight. No woman gets a pair of shoes like that and doesn’t wear them to the one place she’d want to look her best.
“You seem like a pretty lucky guy, Brodie,” she commented, a wry smile on her pretty lips.
“Indeed I am, Bryn.” I slipped a fingertip under the hem of her dress. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker you’ve ever met.”
Chapter Five
Bryn
We pulled up outside my parents’ estate, a hired valet nodding as he took the keys of the Porsche from Brodie. Blood-red displays of roses, seven feet high at least, welcomed guests to the wedding. Red satin bows tied around the stately pillars and red lace-draped tables piled high with elegant white and pink gifts nearly made me gag. This was my sister all right, everything was over the top. Of course she wouldn’t have a Valentine’s Day wedding without red hearts and flowers thrown up on everything. This wedding was cringeworthy already.
“Welcome home, princess.” Brodie swung my door open, holding out a hand with one quirked eyebrow. “Someone better be feeling festive.”
I stood, straightening my dress. “I can’t stand it.”
A laugh barked out of him. “Don’t tempt me to sweep that frown off your face.”
“And how would you do that?” I shot back at him.
His eyes narrowed, I stared at his chiseled jaw, the softest smattering of five o’clock shadow, hovering just out of reach of my lips. What would one small kiss from his lips taste like?
“It involves my hands under that dress.” His words pulled me out of the day dream and sent lightning bolts between my legs.
“Oh?” The word fell from my lips before I could contain it.
“Mm… Don’t give me that look, sweetheart.” His hand circled my waist, pulling me a little closer. His nose drifted up the curve of my neck, whispering at the shell of my ear before he breathed, “That look tells me you want it.” His hand wound around my throat, the pad of his thumb sliding across the hollow at its base. “That you need it.”
I swallowed, not a single thought in my grasp.
Brodie’s hand pushed through my hair his thumb still resting at my throat before his lips touched mine in an achingly slow, tantalizing, probing kiss.
He wasn’t asking for permission, he was giving me time to adjust.
Because after that, his tongue was in my mouth and his hands were clutching at my waist, and it was a good thing, because I would have fallen if his thick arms weren’t enveloping me.
“I love kissing you for everyone and God to see, but I think someone is coming,” he murmured, quickly glancing over my shoulder.
I turned, Brodie’s hand still hovering at my back, to find the giant wall of my six foot-five father. “Hi, Daddy.”