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With a sigh, I slip my sunglasses onto my head and look him in the eye.
“Look Brody, your persistence is kinda cute…in a creepy way. But this isn’t going to happen.”
He flashes that panty-melting smile and chuckles. I imagine Brody isn’t used to people telling him no.
”Yeah, and why are you so sure?”
”You’ve got heartbreak written all over you and I can’t go there again.” My gaze moves to the bakery, customers already flooding in for their morning fix. I bite my lip and steel myself before I look back at Brody. He’s studying me, his aviators no longer covering his chocolate eyes.
”Heartbreak? Me?” The playful innocent tone has me stifling a smile.
It’s a hard task, though. I still haven’t had enough caffeine to get my head on straight. But there’s something about him that makes it really damn difficult to keep a straight face and shrug him off when he’s looking at me with that sinful grin and Puss-in-Boots eyes that have my traitorous heart stumbling over itself.
Dragging in a deep breath, I do my best to shake off the haze of his charm. “Once upon a time you would’ve been my type—a playboy with more charm than you know what to do with, but I’m over that now.”
“Why be over it, when you can be under me?” he teases and I can’t stop the laugh from leaving my lips at his ridiculousness. Why couldn’t he be a complete jerk? It would make resisting him so much easier. Instead, he’s fucking gorgeous, charming and he makes my insides turn to lava. Christ, just thinking about that innocent kiss on my cheek last night has me biting my lip. The feel of his warm touch igniting something inside of me that I thought I had lost.
“It’s not going to happen. We’re not going to be anything.”
“If you’re so sure of that, why are you so scared of spending time with me?” He reaches out and moves a stray strand of red hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear and causing my breath to get stuck in my throat. What is it about this man that has me forgetting all my rules?
His fingers hover beside my neck, the touch causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. Closing my eyes, I allow myself a moment of weakness and lean into his warm touch.
The moment passes as quickly as it came, I pull back and admit, “I don’t want to waste your time. I imagine it’s valuable, a big star like you.”
His rough chuckle sends flutters to my stomach that I try to ignore.
Slipping my sunglasses back on my face, I offer him a grin before saying, “Thanks for the coffee, Hotshot.”
“Anytime, sweetheart. You need something to quench your thirst, I’m your man.” His humorous tone and teasing wink have me smiling in spite of myself.
Walking to Maggie’s seemed like a good idea, a chance to clear my head. But all I’ve done is go over my last conversation with Brody.
He’s wrong. I’m not scared of him, I just don’t do drama. Been there, done that, have the never-worn wedding dress to show for it.
And Brody screams drama. His attitude, his career—he’s trouble disguised as a good time.
As I reach Maggie’s porch, I rap on the door and fumble in my bag for the paperwork I came to drop off. The door opens and I look up to find the man himself leaning against the doorframe with a devastatingly beautiful grin on his face. Is the world screwing with me?
Frowning, I say “I’m looking for your sister.”
“Makes sense, this is her house,” he replies with a throaty chuckle and I can feel my cheeks turn pink. Why do I turn into such an awkward teenager around this guy?
“Is she here?”
“Nah, she had to run an errand. You’re welcome to come in and wait for her to get back. She shouldn’t be long,” he offers, motioning into the house behind him. My gaze wanders down his body. With his light jeans and tightly fitted tank stretched across his toned chest, he’s a real life Ken doll. He runs his thumb along his lower lip, amused by my blatant perusal. The motion only frustrates me more as it draws my gaze to his lips and has me wondering what they’d feel like pressed against mine.
“I’m not scared of you,” I blurt out. All rational thought leaving my mind, the only thing fueling me at the moment is frustration and stubbornness.
He quirks his brow. “I never said you were.”
“I’m not scared of being around you either.”
“Prove it and have dinner with me,” he says, stepping forward and folding his arms over his chest, highlighting his bulging biceps. My pulse quickens, my body’s reaction to him is involuntary.
Everything inside me is at war. My heart is saying back away, bad idea. But my head is saying it’s pointless denying the chemistry. I’m allowed to live a little, and what harm could one date do, really?
Worrying my lip between my teeth, I struggle to find an answer. I wish I were more carefree, but I’m an overthinker.
