Page 18 of Tennessee Trouble

Ohhhhhhhhh…

Heat rushes up my body, his actual meaning hitting me upside the head like a wayward tetherball. Well done, Lindee…

“I’m not saying no…but I was referring to the actual food.”

“There are people who don’t like breakfast tacos? Or any kind?”

I laugh, the movement of my chest against his creating a friction that makes me wish we didn’t have to get out from under these covers. That we could stay wrapped up like this all day. But that’s simply not possible.

Even ignoring the fact that we both have lives to get back to, plus my itchy eyes thanks to sleeping in my contacts, the lack of fire or any other heat source would require getting up to rectify that. However, we do have lives to get back to. Very different—very separate—lives.

Le sigh…

“Mi-my older sister,” I answer, catching myself before I use her name. I lift my head, positioning myself so I can look into Brewer’s eyes. “She is insistent that tacos aren’t a breakfast food, no matter the ingredients.”

“She must be fun at parties…”

I laugh. “Fun isn’t exactly her specialty. She’s the serious one of the family.”

“And which one are you?”

Brewer drags his fingers up and down my spine, the movement lazy and instinctual, like this is our every Sunday morning. The butterflies hovering right under my skin take flight, threatening to burst through. This man has some wild power over me, unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Right about now, I’ll do anything to stop this all from ending.

“The nerdy one. Our brother is the fixer, always stepping in to help with a problem, even if he knows nothing about the situation. The baby of the family—she’s the fun one.”

He nods, brown eyes looking at me like I walk on water.

“I’m the absent-minded one,” he offers. “My sisters make fun of me for being forgetful, but it’s not that. It’s more that I get so focused on something, everything else doesn’t exist and, well…” Trailing off, his hand pauses on my bare ass, giving it a squeeze. For a second I think he’s going to try to start up another round, but then he continues. “Middle is the wild child. She’s…I dunno that there’s a single word to describe her. She dances to her own drum, and there’s no telling what is coming next. And the youngest, she’s the smart one. Like, scary smart—with degrees to prove it. And her own business now.”

The pride in his voice is unmistakable as he talks about his sisters. Even the one who last night he said has made questionable life choices. It’s clear from the little he’s shared that he takes his role as big brother and protector seriously and loves these two women with his whole heart.

Making my own heart melt and swoon.

Following his own absent-minded movements, I trace along his pecs, swirling the dark hair under my fingers, committing the softness to memory. Committing this whole moment to memory. So I can return here, basking in his warmth and the fading glow of the fire, any time I need a happy memory.

“But you asked about breakfast tacos,” he says, clearing his throat. “Yes, I love them.”

Perfect.

“Do you trust me?”

Chuckling, Brewer smacks my ass, hauling me into him. “Little late if I didn’t.”

Fair.

“Good, because I know just the place.”

Thankfully, it’s still early enough that most of the town isn’t up and about yet, allowing us to slip into Taco ’Bout Trouble and grab the far booth unseen. Well, other than by Rosario, April’s mother-in-law and the genius behind the menu here, who I know would never rat me out. Mostly because she hasn’t called me by my actual name since high school.

Despite the relative calm inside the restaurant, nerves race through me like they are trying to earn a spot on the Olympic team. I want to be able to savor this—enjoy being with this amazing man who stumbled into my life—not wasting a single moment. Because with each passing second, the urge to tell him the truth and invite him to stay in Trouble grows.

And that is little T trouble that I don’t really need right now.

“I know I specifically mentioned the breakfast tacos,” I start, trying to harness my nerves. “And they are fantastic. You won’t find better ones anywhere. I recommend getting an extra side of the pico with them, because you’re going to want to bathe in the stuff. But…the huevos rancheros are heavenly—again the pico. The huevos rotas is also really yummy. Actually, there isn’t anything bad on this menu. Rosario is possibly the best cook on this planet.”

“That’s a big statement.”

“I mean it. Everything on this menu is either an old family recipe or one she created herself. She’s one of those people who throw themselves into their cooking—it’s her love language. And she’s been keeping the people of Trouble fed for almost forty years now.”