Page 11 of Red, White, and You

But eventually, the shine and allure of new love couldn’t outweigh our differences, couldn’t compete with my ambition.

And now the man owns an adult summer camp—and an entire lake!—where the theme is playing, relaxing, and smellingthe goddamn roses. It’s almost comical how perfectly this place suits him.

And how differently our lives turned out.

But the answer is obvious, nonetheless, a Brady-shaped hole in my chest that has never been filled.

Finally, when I can deny him no longer, I answer honestly. “Lonely.”

He flinches, as if my admission physically pains him, but before I can take the word back, Brady’s lips crash against mine, and when something between a sigh and a sob parts my lips, his tongue slips between them to tangle with mine.

I drag my hands through his unruly dirty-blond hair, then down his neck and across his shoulders, digging into him,feelinghim, making sure he’sreal. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

He wraps his arms around me and hauls me closer, one hand splayed across my back and the other gripping my ass. He presses our hips together, reintroducing me to the hard ridges of his body, the thickness of his cock as it swells for me.

I moan and Brady deepens the kiss, teasing my tongue with firm, searching strokes as his hand tightens on my ass.

He drags his mouth down my neck, then presses his nose against my pulse and breaths deeply. He nips at my flesh as he makes his way down to dip his tongue into the little depression in the center of my collarbones, then his hands move to the sides of my blouse, tugging it out from my skirt. He slips his hands beneath the silk, palming my breasts and drawing my nipples into stiff peaks that press against their lace prison almost painfully.

“Brady,” I say on an exhale.

He makes a low growl, deep in his throat. “Say it again, Brie.”

“Brady,” I comply, the word becoming a desperate plea.

A flash of pain pinches his features. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear my name on your lips again—”

A knock on the cabin door interrupts us, followed by a woman’s voice calling, “Boss? You in there?” She pauses and Brady curses under his breath, closing his eyes on a long blink. “We have an issue with payment from that couple in twenty-seven again.”

“Again?” I raise my eyebrows.

Brady shakes his head. “I’m sorry. Duty calls.”

I nod in understanding even though I don’t really understand. “What do you…?” I pause, trying to figure out what I’m asking when my brain is a lust-addled jumble of thoughts. “What exactly are your duties?”

He laughs, then places a kiss on my nose. “All of them.” He pats my bottom playfully. “Go get changed into camping clothes, and I’ll meet you out front in five. Cool?”

Nodding, I say nothing as Brady leaves me to answer the door, adjusting himself as he goes. He’s careful not to swing the door open as he steps outside, allowing me much needed privacy. I must look like a nearly-ravished, disheveled mess.

Once he’s outside and the door is closed, I exhale. Bringing my hand to my lips, I trace over the remnants of his kiss, the rawness left behind by his beard stubble, and smile against my fingertips.

How will I leave him again when the week is over?

Giving my head a quick shake, I push the thought aside. Better to cross that bridge when it comes. I retrieve my luggage and roll it toward the…

Oh. Hmm.

There’s no walk-in closet. I’m sure I’m silly for expecting one, but there’s not even a regular closet or wardrobe.

I scan the small room, assessing what my lodging will be for the week. There’s a full or possibly queen-sized bed in the center; its plush white bedding and an assortment of fluffy pillows make it seem out of place in the rustic cabin. To the left of the bed is the doorway to what must be a small bathroom, and to the right, two wooden luggage stands lean against the wall, each of them looking as old and worn out as the rest of this place. Nightstands sit on either side of the head of the bed, complete with mismatched brass reading lamps on each. A pitcher of water and glass sit on one, and an alarm clock sits atop the other, beside a bouquet of my favorite flowers.

Thick shag rugs that appear to be brand new line the floor on each side of the bed, and something tells me that this is not how every cabin is furnished. No, this has Brady written all over it, and I smile at the thought he must have put into my comfort level.

What other surprises will he have in store for me?

I place first one suitcase and then the other onto the luggage racks, then open them both and sift through the contents until I find a pair of blue jeans and a simple white t-shirt. I certainly didn’t own hiking boots before this trip, but thankfully, my assistant thought of everything, and a brand-new pair is tucked inside one of the suitcases.

I dress quickly and head out to join Brady on the porch. I’m uncomfortable in these clothes, nervous about mosquitoes, fearful that I won’t be able to relax, but one look into his gorgeous blue eyes pushes all of my concerns aside.

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