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“We’re going outside to play in the rain.”
“What?” I sputter with laughter while allowing him to guide us out on the back porch. The rain isn’t coming down as hard as it was earlier, but there is still a steady fall from the sky.
He closes the door and takes me by the hand, twirling me around. He pulls me into his chest and dips me dramatically. My head is tilted back, and the rain pelts against my flushed skin.
“When I said I needed a shower, this isn’t what I meant,” I tease when he lifts me back to a standing position.
“I have to keep you on your toes.” He winks, twirling me again.
“Do you always dance in the rain, Kincaid?” I ask when I’m once again pulled back into his arms.
“No. This is my first time.” He bends and kisses me softly. “My parents still to this day dance around the kitchen and even in the rain. I asked Dad once why he always danced with her. He said, ‘Son, you always dance with her, even if it’s in the rain, and you do it like no one is watching.’”
“Ah, the musings of Raymond Kincaid,” I reply.
“He has a lot of them. I asked him ‘why though?’ I didn’t understand why all the dancing.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He said, ‘boys,’ because my brothers were all there too. ‘When you find someone you want to dance with, you’ll understand.’” He presses his lips to my forehead as we sway to the sound of the rain falling against the deck.
My heart is beating so hard you’d think Thumper was taking up residence in my chest. I want to ask him if I’m that someone to him, but my heart won’t let me. This is casual. Brooks hasn’t let on that it could be or even that he wants it to be more. He’s treated me lovingly and with respect from day one. That’s just who he is. He’s one of the good ones, and with each day, I fall harder for him when I know I’m not supposed to.
I can’t seem to stop it.
He twirls me around a few more times before the rain starts to pick up. “Let’s get you inside.” With his arm around my waist, he leads me back into the kitchen. I shiver when the cool air-conditioned air hits my skin. “Fuck. I didn’t think this through. I’ll get you a towel. Strip.” The words are barely past his lips before he’s racing down the hall to grab a towel.
He’s back in no time, and I’m still standing on the rug, dripping everywhere. He has a towel slung around his shoulders and another in his hand for me. “Palmer, you’re supposed to be stripping.”
“In your kitchen?”
“Yes. In my kitchen. Get naked, baby,” he says. One might think he’s being cheeky, but his tone is more serious than I’ve ever heard it. His eyes are locked on mine and not my body.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
“You’re shivering. Dammit, I should have thought of that.” He grumbles something about his dad being wrong about dancing in the rain as he reaches out and lifts the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and dropping it to the rug I’m currently dripping all over.
With a level of care that has my heart tripping over itself, he helps me strip out of my clothes, not caring at all that they’re landing in a sopping pile on his hardwood floors. Once I’m naked and still shivering, he wraps the towel around me and lifts me into his arms, bridal style.
“Brooks!” I shriek as I wrap my arms around his neck to hold on.
“We need to get you warmed up.”
“I’m fine, big guy.” I kiss his scruffy cheek. His worry, the way he’s insisting on taking care of me, has me feeling all warm and gooey inside, despite the cold temperature of the room. His hair is in clumpy wet pieces against his face, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He only seems to be bothered by the fact that I’m cold. He takes me into his room and into his bathroom, where the shower is already running and steam is filling the room.
“Test the water,” he tells me.
I reach in, and the hot water feels amazing against my cold skin. “It’s fine,” I tell him.
“I’ll lay some towels out for you.” He turns, but I reach out for him.
“Wait.” He stops to look at me. “Join me?” I hold my breath, waiting for him to decide.
He gives me a stiff nod and steps away, grabbing a handful of towels from the closet, and tossing them on the closed toilet seat. Then he starts to strip. I keep my eyes on his every movement as he peels away his rain-soaked clothes. When he’s finally fully naked, his hard cock standing at attention, I hold my hand out for him, and he takes it. Together we step under the hot spray, pulling the curtain around us.
My back is to the water, so I tilt my head, letting the hot water warm me. I sigh as the water instantly starts to replace the chill from the rain and the air conditioning. When I finally lift my head, Brooks is standing in front of me. His arms hang at his sides, and his hands are balled into fists. He’s watching me with a look I can’t describe.
“Brooks?”
