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Chapter 1
Craft Fair Rescue
Barrett
He chose his partners from a seemingly ever-present pool of women who made it known to him that they were interested. He chose based on logic, ruling out those whom he knew immediately would not suit. He had chosen his present companion that way, he had chosen well, and was considering taking the relationship to the next level. In fact, he had asked his brother, Rhys, to meet him for breakfast, and was about to tell him about her, when the ringing of Rhys’s cell phone interrupted them.
That phone call led Barrett to be standing at the side of the highway under a sizzling summer sun and brought him face to face with one who defied all logic, one who was not a pool, but an ocean all her own.
Rhys, at forty-five, had four years on Barrett, and Barrett had four inches on Rhys. At six foot four, he towered over most people. His body was proportionate to his height, his chest wide, arms muscled, legs thick and hella long, and he was lean through the torso and hips because he worked out religiously to keep himself that way. He didn’t need any extra bulk. It was hard enough maneuvering his bulky frame around the tight confines of the animal hospital where he worked. One day he’d design and build a space that would be more accommodating.
Barrett sat back while Rhys answered his cell, watching the pleasure filter across his face as he spoke warmly and chuckled with whoever was on the other end of the line.
This was interesting. He had not seen that look on his brother’s face in years. He lifted his menu, preparing to order, just as Rhys stood and stalked out of the restaurant. Barrett flipped the menu closed and followed Rhys out to the parking lot just as he was tucking his cell into his pocket.
“What’s up?”
Rhys looked at him sideways, the grooves in his forehead deeper than usual. “You know the woman whose house I’m renovating? Rebecca? I told you about her.”
“Yeah.” He waited, legs braced, hands loose on his hips.
“Her car’s broken down at the side of the road. She’s with her friend and a car packed with shit for a craft fair.”
“Why’s she calling you?”
Rhys grinned. “Because I’m lucky? I’m going to get her. Want me to meet you back here in an hour?”
“I’ll follow you up with my truck, just in case it’s needed.”
He had nothing else to do and didn’t mind a little drive. Driving relaxed him, allowed him to think.
He spotted the car pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway. Rhys pulled over well in front of it, leaving Barrett enough room to pull his truck in between, then they both reversed back. He got out of his truck and flicked the door closed, curious to see the woman who had woken up his brother.
He flashed her a smile that he hoped was reassuring as he approached. She was petite, a pixie, sitting with her hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, mouth hanging open.
Her big baby blues tracked him as he approached her car. He heard Rhys sauntering up about ten feet behind him. She still hadn’t moved by the time he had stopped, slightly in front of her driver’s side door, leaving her room to get out. She just followed his progress and stared. That was cute.
“Hang back, man, you’re going to scare her with your big ass body and all that
hair!” Rhys called to him.
He had a point. Apart from his height, his build, the tattoos peeking out his shirt sleeve, and his size fourteen feet, there was his beard, full and bordering on scraggly, and his straight, dirty blond hair that he wore long, but fully shaved on both sides.
Barrett grinned and looked over his shoulder at his brother to find the same grin mirrored back at him. Barrett watched, warmed, as Rhys’s grin softened into an affectionate chuckle as he eyed Rebecca through the window. Looked like the pixie had dropped his big brother on his ass.
He was a lucky man if he could find that special something not once, but twice, in one lifetime. His first wife, Amy, the mother of his children, had passed away tragically six years ago.
When she emerged from her car, Rebecca seemed sweet, friendly. He relaxed and laughed at something she said before his attention was drawn to her friend exiting from the passenger side.
Time stopped. He drew in a sharp breath when faced with the curvy, sweetly freckled, curly-haired, girl-next-door fantasy-come-to-life that stood guardedly before him.
Rebecca made the introductions, but Willa kept her hands tucked firmly in her back pockets, sending the message loud and clear that she was not to be touched. He wanted to see her eyes, desperately, but her shades hid them. He locked on anyway and knew she felt the same zing of attraction that he did, although she covered it well. Her wide, friendly smile nearly did him in.
He didn’t smile back. He knew in the way he just knew things sometimes that he was looking at his future.
This was an unexpected complication that simplified everything.
Rhys drove Rebecca, or Bex as she was called by her friends, and Willa was stuck with Barrett. She was quiet in the passenger seat beside him, so quiet he could hear her breathing, and it was shallow. She was either aroused or afraid. He glanced sideways at her profile and noted her tight jaw and pinched mouth.
