Page 96 of Blue Jeans in Low Beams

“What’s that?”

“Are you going to accept the silver platter? Or do you need it spoon-fed to you?”

I throw my head back laughing, loving the way she calls me out. Something only a bestie could do.

Without wasting another second, I slide out of the booth and rush over to give her a hug.

“Love you, drive safe, let me know when you get there. Don’t kill your mom.”

She squeezes me tight, holding me for a beat longer. “We don’t leave ’til this afternoon, so if this all turns out to be a lie and we need to go kick the doc’s ass, just let me know.”

I snort. Then I’m out the door.

27

MILO

Turns out, the fantasy I didn’t realize I had was Brenna Rawlins pushing me up against my truck and sucking my dick.

Yet here I am, days later, and the image of her down on her knees, my cock in her mouth, looking up at me with those brown eyes, is living rent free in my head and making me hard all over again. And I’m not mad about it. At all.

I inhale deeply, filling my lungs until they hurt, trying to regain some composure. Any composure. Focusing on wiping down the bar at Pour Decisions, I remind myself that as much as I want to whip out my dick and jack off to the incredible memory of Brenna pushing me to my limits, I am not seventeen and I can control myself. The Pints and Purls crowd will be here in a couple of hours, Hux texted that he’s stopping by to talk about hosting Dolly’s rehearsal dinner, and there is plenty of work to be done before they arrive.

The door to the warehouse-like space opens, sunlight streaming in through the small opening, making it hard to see who walks through the door. My heart jumps, my dick twitching in anticipation, hoping that it’s a certain brunette.

“Guess what I have!” Bronwyn Ainsworth says in a singsongy voice, holding up a manilla folder.

My heart sinks, and my dick deflates a little as our marketing director with the honey-colored hair walks across the bar. Don’t get me wrong, I like Bronwyn. A lot. She’s a fantastic addition to Hayes and Hickory Hills. Exactly what we needed as far as someone in charge of our marketing and advertising. Hell, in a weird, twisty way she’s kinda-sorta going to be family, since she’s engaged to Noel, who is the twin of Willa’s fiancé. She’s simply not at all the woman I wanted to see walk into my bar right now.

“You discovered the secret portal that all the socks disappear to in the dryer?”

Bronwyn stops short of the barstools, tilting her head at me, giving me a curious look. “That’s where your mind goes?”

I shrug. “Sure would save me a hell of a lot of time if I had that answer.”

Reaching into the mini fridge, I pull out a Diet Coke and set it down on the bar, watching as she thinks through my response.

“That it would.” She nods a thank you for the drink, cracking the can open and taking a sip. “But, no, I don’t have that magic answer. I do, however, have the first mockup for the Blue Jeans label.”

Just like that, my pulse spikes again, excitement flowing through me. I’d called Bronwyn first thing the morning after our picnic, letting her know I’d finally landed on a name. I don’t know who was more relieved—me or her. Maybe her, actually. She was starting to get really panicky.

“Let’s see.”

She passes me the folder, grinning from ear to ear. “I think it turned out pretty good. We can always make any changes you want, but…I think they got pretty close to what you were describing.”

Flipping open the folder, my heart stops, my breath hitching as my eyes land on the artwork. Sure enough, the art department got it right.

Soft, muted greens and blues blend together, depicting a wide, open meadow at dusk. The sky is dim, but not dark, allowing for the yellow glow of headlights from an old-fashioned red truck to take center stage. Most importantly though, the item that steals the show is the pair of blue jeans draped across the hood of the truck. Tossed there casually, as if done in the heat of the moment, without a thought or care in the world.

Blue jeans in low beams.

“It’s…it’s perfect.”

My heart squeezes, and I’m unable to take my eyes off it, all those feelings from that night rushing back. And not just the ones from where Brenna had me up against the truck. All of them. Because Brenna makes me feel all of the things.

“We can make whatever changes you want,” Bronwyn reminds me.

“Maybe a couple of minor things, but for the most part, they nailed it.”