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I tell myself that my dad would be the same with anyone asking about my relationship status, especially a guy old enough to be my dad.
But it’s Brandon who seems silently worked up about it more than my dad by the time we get home.
He looks as annoyed as I feel about not giving him my answer.
I try to break the tension by pointing out the house next door that’s sold, but Brandon only grunts, looking bored already.
He appears to be irritated about being ferried around by other people. Brandon looks like a man who’s ready to turn around and head straight home. Our little neighborhood tucked beside the woods leading to the base of the mountains must seem totally stagnant to a guy like him.
I only know what he does from what dad’s told me, but running a countrywide security firm, rubbing shoulders with wealthy private clients and government officials seems like a world away from our little town.
Pulling into the drive, I expect my dad to get out as well. But he practically ignores Brandon, who’s the first to exit the car and stretch his massive body.
After a long flight and a car trip, seeing him unfold after being bunched up like a sardine in a can makes me realize just how big he really is compared to me.
Dad turns his head to me just long enough to clip that he’s gonna go to work.
“The sooner I get things done, the sooner they’re finished,” he says aloud, gripping the wheel harder, and I notice Brandon only jerks his chin in acknowledgment before making for the front porch without a word to my dad.
“You okay?” I ask my dad, a sense of dread welling in me at the thought that his best friend’s trip is going to be constantly clouded with him keeping one eye on Brandon and the other on me.
But dad’s quick to smile.
“I’m okay, sweetie. I think our boy there just needs a nap, tired and grouchy,” he informs me.
“Yeah, probably,” I reply.
“Make up the spare room for him, will ya? And we’ll see if he’s in a better mood by the time I get back,” he instructs me.
I’m left a little speechless that he thinks what just happened is somehow Brandon’s fault.
But the thought of having Brandon all to myself for the rest of the day is enough to see me agree to anything, and I peck my dad’s cheek, telling him everything will be fine before I watch him drive off down our street.
I don’t turn around to meet Brandon’s intense gaze until my dad’s out of sight.
I expect to see him in his mood still, but once he sees my face, the transformation is undeniable.
And I just know he’s put it all on to make my dad think he’s just tired and grouchy after his flight.
“Well?” Brandon asks. His deep voice makes my whole body tremble as though I were in the middle of the best kind of earthquake possible.
I feel my mouth hanging open, not sure what the hell he’s talking about.
“Boyfriend or not?” he asks in a commanding tone.
“Not.” I hear myself answer instantly, not even minding he would ask, and not feeling bad at all because I don’t, especially when I see my answer’s effect on Brandon.
“Good.Perfect,” he rumbles in a low tone before suggesting I open the door so we can go inside.
I move to walk past him. But his hand on my arm makes me jump, shivering a breath and feeling a charge of his powerful energy running straight from my limbs right to my core.
“It’s good to be home,” he rasps, and when I look up at him, I know he’s not just talking about coming back to town.
I know he’s talking about being able to spend some time with me.
I know that’s what he means because I feel exactly the same way.
I watch my hand tremble as I slip the key into my front door, Brandon’s huge body behind me as he lets out a low growl.
