Page 12 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

Yeah, this isn’t awkward at all.

“You get it,” I tell her, taking a step back.

I watch out of the corner of my eye, trying to be as unobvious as possible, which probably makes me more so. Might as well have a sign over my head that says creeper. Because every time I look at her, all I can see is her splayed out on that bed, her gorgeous body on display, making those sounds that have an unspeakable effect on my dick. Fuck, I’m hard again just thinking about it. You’d think I was a teenager all over again for this inability to control my thoughts.

If I don’t find a way to distract myself—and soon—this is going to be a really long summer.

“Here you go, Reverend,” Brenna says, a bright smile on her face.

Way to go Milo, thinking about her naked in front of the Reverend. Pretty sure that’s a one-way ticket to hell…

“Good to see you home, Miss Brenna,” Reverend Terry comments. “Hard to believe you’re so grown up. Gosh, I remember when you were born. And your dedication. You know, this guy…”

I perk up, somehow knowing that I’m the this guy he’s referring to.

Reverend Terry waggles a finger in my direction. Bingo. “He was the only one who could get you to stop crying. You were screamin’ that little head of yours off, and no matter what anyone did, you wouldn’t stop. ’Til Milo picked you up and bam! It was like he had the magic touch.”

I’d like to have the magic touch with her now too…no! Stop…stop…

I need something to distract me. Something to take my mind off me and Brenna and magic touches and…well, anything. Really, anything else at this point.

“Can’t say I remember that one,” Brenna laughs.

My dick surges, and I have to flex my hands to stop myself from reaching for her. Fuck, I’m in trouble.

“Well, I best get. It was good to see you.”

“You too, Reverend.”

I nod, turning my focus to the dirty pint glasses in the sink. Dish duty isn’t necessarily my favorite, but it’s going to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied, and frankly, at this point, that’s what I need more than anything.

“So, Brenna,” Ben says. “How’s it going?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake…

Nope, pint glasses. That’s the focus. The pint glasses. Because those need cleaning. If we’re this busy, and there is this big of a stack, then we’re going to need more soon. Really, Ben should have been on top of this. Why he’s not…well, good question. I make a mental note to bring that up later. Because it’s possible there’s a reason. He might have been out on the floor delivering drinks or helping someone. Or if there was a pizza delivery or something.

Something other than flirting, I hope.

“Fine,” Brenna answers. Her tone is bored, which excites me more than I should admit to.

“It’s just that I was thinking that I’m home for the summer and you’re home for the summer and⁠—”

“I’m not home for the summer, Ben. I graduated from pharmacy school,” she corrects him.

I bite my lip to stop from laughing. I know where this is going, and it’s not going to end well for Ben. Poor kid. He’s a nice guy. Good-looking even. And I have no doubt he does well with the girls over in Statesboro. But he’s trying to bat way outside his league here.

“Milo!”

I look up, surprised by the cheery blonde face staring back at me. Pleasantly surprised though, because it’s one that I think will also enjoy what we’re about to witness. Or what I think we’re about to witness. Hope we are.

She wouldn’t say yes to going out with Ben, would she?

No. No. I tamp down the single flare of jealousy and focus on Brenna’s best friend.

“MaryEllen Quinn. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“It’s Davenport now—don’t you know anything?”