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“It was good. Jessica is happy to be opening tomorrow. She’s a culinary student and loves to bake. I don’t hand over the reins enough.”
“Nothing wrong with delegating, especially if it means you get to enjoy your life a little more.”
When we arrive, Brody sits in the living room, staring at his laptop. “Yeah, we can discuss this tomorrow,” he says, glancing up and smiling at me. He must be talking to someone from work.
“Hey, Brody!” a woman calls out. “Dinner Friday night?” Okay, maybe it’s personal…
“Yeah, sounds good. I was thinking I’d bring someone…”
“Could it be whoever just walked in that you’re grinning at like a fool?” the man says.
Brody laughs. “Yeah…” He nods for me to join him, but I shake my head.
“C’mere,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me down so I’m almost sitting on top of him. I glance at the screen and see a man, who looks to be an older version of Brody, with the same color hazel eyes and brown hair—only his strands have a bit of salt and pepper sprinkled in—sitting in a chair with a gorgeous, younger woman on his lap. She has blond hair and blue eyes, and the sweetest smile on her face.
“Savy, Dad, this is Bree Heart. Bree, these are my parents.”
I wave, slightly overwhelmed and a little embarrassed at meeting them like this. “Hi,” I squeak out.
“Oh, aren’t you beautiful,” Savy coos, a slight Southern twang laced in her words.
Her husband chuckles. “What my wife means is that it’s nice to meet you, Bree.”
“Yeah, that.” She giggles, playfully slapping her husband’s chest. “Please tell me you’ll be joining Brody Friday night.” With the look of hope in her eyes, I can’t say no.
“Sure.”
“Good.” She claps excitedly. “Where’s Hayden? Tell him he better be joining you guys.”
I cough lightly, wondering how this will go down, but Brody doesn’t miss a beat. He says he’ll make sure Hayden’s there before telling them good night and telling his dad that he’ll see him in the morning.
“You work with your dad?” I ask when he ends the call. I thought he said he ran the company.
“He’s more or less retired, but I trust his opinion and judgment, so I go to him when I need business advice. He’s going to sit in on a meeting tomorrow morning with a potential new client.”
“Guess you won’t be going to the beach with Hayden and me tomorrow, then.” I pout playfully.
“Someone’s gotta work,” he growls playfully, lifting me into his lap so I’m straddling his thighs. He tucks my hair behind my ear and kisses me softly, his tongue running across the seam of my lips. My body comes to life, and I clench my legs in want. His hands descend, landing on my butt, massaging the globes, and I moan into his mouth, grinding myself against him. Lost in the kiss and the way he’s touching me.
Until there’s a throat clearing, and I jump, remembering Hayden is the one who picked me up. “Shit, sorry,” I mutter, trying to scramble off Brody. I swing my leg around, so I can slide off his lap, but he holds me to him, not letting me go.
“What are you saying sorry for?” Hayden asks, raising a brow as he sits next to us.
“Umm…” I glance between the two of them. “I just thought…well, you picked me up. I shouldn’t be kissing Brody when it’s your time.”
Brody’s brow furrows. “Sweetness, there is no his time or my time. It’s our time. Kiss whoever you want, hang out with whoever you want. We promise, neither of us will get mad or jealous.”
I glance at Hayden to see if he agrees, and he nods. “This is new for all of us,” he adds. “But you never have to worry about us getting upset over who you want to spend time with.”
“How is Friday night going to work?”
Hayden glances at Brody, who says, “We’re having dinner with my parents.”
“Ahh, well, they won’t care,” Hayden says like the idea of telling Brody’s parents that they’re dating the same woman is no big deal.
“Seriously?” I look at Brody.
“They love and accept me the way I am. Besides, they’re probably in shock that I’m even dating a woman serious enough to introduce to them. This whole time they’ve probably been waiting for me to tell them that I’m really dating Hayden,” he says with a laugh.
“It’ll be fine,” Hayden says, grabbing my legs and setting them on his lap. He pulls my shoes and socks off and then starts to massage my feet and ankles. “Why don’t we order dinner and watch something? I’m starved.”
While the guys discuss what to order, I sink back against Brody’s chest, enjoying the foot massage from Hayden. When you’re on your feet ten-plus hours a day, your feet take a beating.
