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But the touch of her fingers was all too brief. I live for these moments, and I die every night I lay down to sleep, knowing that’s all I can ever have of her. And the worst part is, it’s all my fault. My own code.
My daddy’s been dead a long time, but I still have his voice in my head telling me to be a good man. He looked up to Joshua’s father as the pinnacle of how a man should live and act. I figured his ghost would have haunted me because I sold his old Chevy, not to tell me to stay away from my best friend’s daughter. But here we are.
Piper saunters down to the other end of the long bar and offers an ancient cowboy a smile. It’s her easy-going “What can I get you?” smile, which is totally different from her “you’re so funny” smile. And different still from her “I’m so happy” smile. My favorite is the soft, serene smile that tugs the edges of her lips up. She saves that one for me when she thinks no one is looking.
A strong hand clasps my shoulder, and I look up to see a familiar face.
Brandt Huxley, Piper’s brother, grins down at me. “Hey, Hunter.”
“Brandt.” I nod. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Good. On my way home. You watchin’ the game?” He nods toward the TVs on the opposite wall.
Which makes Brandt’s question even more interesting. I’m obviously not watching the game. Brandt’s a smart man. It was only a matter of time before he figured it out. Probably why he stopped calling me Uncle Hunter a few years back. My chest tightens, and I wait for him to warn me away from her. Remind me that I’m too fucking old and not near good enough for Piper.
“Nah,” I say, watching him closely. His brown eyes are just like his sister’s. Deep, soulful, sharp as a tack. “Just grabbing a late dinner.”
There’s a beat as he digests those words. Is he looking for a double meaning? I wish there was one. He cuts a glance at Piper, then turns his attention to me again.
“Don’t forget dessert.”
My brows start to lift, but I smooth my expression. He didn’t mean that— No, surely he couldn’t have.
I shrug and lift my glass again. “If I’ve got room.”
Brandt chuckles, sounding so much like his dad at that age it’s almost like rewinding my life.
A group of women walks by, giggling, and his gaze tracks them for a moment before returning to me. His tone turns a little more serious. “Don’t know about you, but I’ve always got an appetite for dessert.”
My jaw drops.
“Night.”
“Good night.”
“Night, Piper!” he calls, then he’s off.
She lifts a hand and turns to the wall of glittering liquor bottles.
God, she’s gorgeous. Curvy and confident, with long hair that my fingers ache to touch. My cock twitches as I watch the masterful way she mixes drinks. Strong hands, nimble fingers, total focus. What I wouldn’t give to feel her hands—that focus—on me.
Brandt couldn’t have meant what he was implying, could he?
A cheer goes up on the other side of the room, and I glance over my shoulder at the group of guys Piper’s age. It’s a good thing they’re so invested in the game. Nine times out of ten, one of those little pricks gets it into his head to start harassing Pie and her friends for their number. I’ve lost track of how many would-be-suitors I’ve run off over the years.
“You hungry?” Piper slides a fresh drink in front of me and pries the empty glass from my fingers.
“Yep.”
She nods and turns back to the computer, typing in my order. Some of the tension eases from my chest. She’s close. Safe.
I love that she knows me this well. After all this time, she no longer asks me what I want, and I think it’s because we’re both sick of me not giving her the real answer. Who would want a cheeseburger when they could have her on their tongue?
I take a deep breath and, for the three thousandth time this month, remind myself that my best friend would beat me senseless if I touched his daughter like that. He could give a TedTalk on how to protect a daughter.
Ten minutes later, she slides my burger and fries across the bar.
“Thanks, Pie.”
