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36
Michael
Under the lights of a beach tavern, I hold Brooke securely in my arms while we slow dance. Just holding her makes me glad I actually listened to her explanation about Carrie. Deep inside of me, I’d known the truth.
Brooke was shy, which she had tried to cover up last night and again this morning. So that spoke volumes to me. Her sister is the one who I should have shown the door to the moment she’d opened her mouth. I’ll know better in future.
But as the soft warm body rubs against my front, I forget about Carrie’s drama and concentrate on the sensation. It’s been far too long since I let anyone close in this way. Because of my work life, it’s always been easier to just date. No commitment, nothing more than a few days of fun here and there...until now. I’ve never had my eye caught and held.
“Michael,” Brooke moans. “What are you thinking about?” Her warm mouth presses through my shirt over my nipple.
“I can tell you where my mind has suddenly gone.” I press against her and there is no mistaking my solid erection pulsing against her belly.
Chuckling, she presses closer. “I thought I’d lost you.”
I kiss the top of her head. “No. I was thinking about you.”
“I can tell.”
“Ignore that.” I laugh as she raises her face to mine. “I’m really enjoying tonight with you. I haven’t done anything like this in…heck, never.”
“So we’re both having a first tonight,” she smirks. “Well, I’m going to be having a few firsts if I have my way.”
My arousal strains between us, at her words, and the promise in them. “You need to be…”
“She needs to be what?” Carrie interrupts.
And like that, the flames of arousal are doused and all that burns inside me is the anger at this woman.
Brooke tries to pull away, but I tighten my hold, and keep her in the circle of my arms as I turn to face the woman.
“Carrie,” Brooke hisses. “I didn’t know that you liked it here.”
“I bet you didn’t,” she replies in a singsong voice, which tells me that she’s had a little too much to drink.
Her gaze rakes across me before she turns back to Brooke, her lips curling into a sneer. “So you’re carrying the dare on for another night, huh?”
Brooke trembles against me, and it takes everything in me not to say something cruel to Carrie. Instead, I cup Brooke’s face against my chest and kiss the top of her head. Carrie’s eyes darken with anger, and her fists clench around the wine glass she holds.
“Carrie, I think you need to go home and sober up,” I suggest, and just catch her wrist as she goes to slap me.
With my other arm, I put Brooke behind me and get in Carrie’s face. “I wouldn’t suggest doing that,” I hiss.
“What the hell does she have that I don’t?” she snarls and that’s when I notice the whole tavern is watching us.
“We’ll make sure you get home safely,” I add, against my better judgment. “But this, whatever is going on with you, has to stop.”
She snatches her hand back. “Don’t touch me.” She wobbles backwards. “I don’t need you or anyone to help me home. I’ve lived here a lot longer than you have.”
Brooke places a hand on my back and moves to my side. “Carrie, please. Don’t do this. Let us walk you home.”
Carrie laughs before her face twists into something evil. Not a nice sight at all. “Not everything revolves around you.” She points with a finger, a lethal looking red nail, inches from Brooke’s face.
“Knock it off.” I tug Brooke away. “You either walk back with us, or,” I palm my cell, “I call your father.”
Her face falls briefly, so I continue, “You don’t want to worry him, right?” I intertwine my fingers with Brooke’s, and say to Carrie, “Just for tonight, let us get you home.”
She blinks back tears and takes off toward the entrance of the tavern. I glance at Brooke, who meets my gaze.
