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He glanced back at the counter. Katelyn smiled sweetly and nodded to the boy.
“If she’s legal and you like her, then go for it. Afraid to catch real feelings instead of just fucking?”
Damn you, Chloe.
She’d hit the nail right on the fucking head.
Because that’s exactly what he was afraid of.
He stood there on First Avenue watching her through the glass. She was alone. He waited until she locked the door and switched the lights off one by one. As Katelyn walked toward the back of the shop to the stairs that led to the loft above, Brendan unlocked the door and went inside.
She stopped dead in her tracks for the briefest moment, then turned to him. Fearless and unafraid. It almost seemed as if she knew it was him before she saw that it was. He locked the door and leaned back against it, pocketing his master key.
Katelyn took three steps in his direction and stopped when she got to the counter. Even so, she didn’t look pleased to see him. “What do you want?”
You.
“I need to talk to you.” Then he took three steps.
She crossed her arms over her chest, which only succeeded in pushing her beautiful breasts farther out of the low-cut shirt she wore, exposing more delicious cleavage to him. He ventured closer.
“Well, I don’t need to talk to you. Go home to your wife…”
Wife? The fuck?
“…and your baby. Bastard. How could you?”
Did she think…? She did. He couldn’t help it. Laughter rose from deep within him as he strode over to her the rest of the way. For whatever reason, his sweet girl mistakenly assumed Chloe was his wife and Chandan his son. He scooped her up and set her down on the counter.
“I’m not married.”
He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned away from him. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
“I said I’m not married.”
“Do you think you can play me? That I’m just some foolish girl?” Her head was cocked to the side, her brow raised. A storm brewed in her big turquoise eyes.
She was angry and he liked that she didn’t hide it. Her fists were clenched at her sides like she was holding herself back from punching him. He liked that too. It meant she wasn’t afraid of him and it meant she cared.
And that made his dick hard.
“I don’t, so stop acting like one.” He inhaled jasmine from her hair. It combined with the aroma of coffee. “Chloe is married to my cousin and my best friend. That baby is his son.”
“Now I for sure know you’re full of shit.” She laughed. “You can’t be married to two people. I’ve seen Sister Wives.”
“Watch your mouth, sweet girl.” He slid his hands up her thighs, covered in blue jeans, and encircling her slim waist he pulled her body closer to his. “I was the best man at their wedding.”
Her lips parted but she didn’t speak.
He dipped his head to inhale the flesh in the valley between her breasts. Salty and sweet. Sweat and perfume. His lips dragged across her skin to the warm curve of her neck, her jaw, the sweet spot beneath her ear, and he edgily whispered, “Who is he?”
She pulled her head back to look at him. “What?”
“Who is he?” To make sure she understood just what he was asking, he added, “Your boyfriend?”
“Cam is a guy in my algebra class.” And she fucking laughed. “He’s taking me to a party.”
Brendan was well aware of what happened at college parties. Drinking. Fucking. He saw red. The turbulence came back with a vengeance even though he still didn’t have the right to his feelings. Besides, that’s what she should be doing. Going to parties. Dating boys her own age who can run a football down a field, but fumble flicking the button open on her jeans. Boys who can’t find her clit or make her come. Who have no fucking clue what to do with the precious gift that she is.
