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My eyes narrow at my brother. “It’s the middle of the day, Rusty,” I say. “You couldn’t have hooked up somewhere else?”
My brother’s brow furrows like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
“We talked about this. You promised you’d give it a break for a few weeks around the holidays until after I move out. We only have a little bit of time left with me living here, and I’d really rather there not be a string of women coming and going.”
At that, I watch his forehead smooth out. “Oh, I don’t have a girl here,” he says. “Remember I told you a buddy of mine was coming to town to help with some of the brewery stuff?”
I nod slowly, thinking back to a random conversation we had a month or so ago about a friend of his from college. Now I can’t remember what was said.
“Kind of.”
“Jackson’s kind of a guru with launching small businesses, so he’s going to help with—”
“Wait, wait,” I say, blinking a few times and feeling like I might have just had a stroke.
There is no way I just heard that name come out of my brother’s mouth.
“What did you say his name is?”
Rusty opens his mouth, but then his eyes shift to something behind me and he smiles.
“Hey, man. I want you to meet my sister.”
I stay seated in my chair, facing my brother, saying a desperate little prayer that what I think is about to happen is not happening. Praying I misheard. Or misunderstood. Or that Jackson is suddenly a super common name in the world.
But of course that’s not what happens at all.
When I finally turn around, I’m met with the same beautiful blue eyes that gazed into mine with lust and need and adoration as I knelt before him last night.
“Abby, this is my friend Jackson. Jackson, this is my sister, Abby,” my brother says, coming around the island to wrap his arm around my shoulder, completely unaware of the fact that my stomach has launched itself into my throat.
Jackson stands there for a long moment, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his face decidedly blank.
“Nice to meet you,” he says, that same sexy voice rumbling through me just like it did as he pinned me up against his car.
“You, too,” I manage to choke out, though just barely.
Because what the fuck?
“He’s going to be staying with us for a few weeks,” my brother says, completely oblivious to the fact I’m having an internal meltdown. “I was thinking we could take Jackson to The Mitch tonight. You know, give him a real local experience.”
Jackson emits some kind of strangled laugh, and all I can manage is a wince, thankful that my brother isn’t aware of just how much of a local experience his friend got last night.
Swallowing uncomfortably, I slip off my stool, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but right here.
“Why don’t you two just go,” I tell my brother. “I’m pretty tired. Long day at work.”
Rusty gives me a look. “Since when do you turn down a free drink?” he asks. “Besides, Jackson’s only going to be in town for a short time, and we’ve talked about you a lot over the years. I’m sure he’d love a chance to get to know you.”
Somehow I manage to nod my head, though I know I’m going to keep scrambling for any kind of excuse to get out of grabbing drinks with my brother and the guy who had his dick in my mouth less than twenty-four hours ago.
“I need to shower off the day,” I say, my voice coming out in an awkward squeak. Clearing my throat, I make a hasty retreat toward the stairs. “I’ll see you guys…later. I guess.”
And then I’m fleeing out of the room and up to my bedroom, wondering what the ever-loving hell is happening.
chapter four
Jackson
