Page 76 of The Bro Date
How did I get so lucky?
When Shane closes the lid to let our dinner finish cooking, I try to convince him to get in the hot tub with me, so I can do more than just ogle him. “You should join me. Play Marco Polo with our dicks.”
“As tempting as that sounds, the kabobs have to come off the grill in ten minutes, and I'mdefinitelygonna need more than ten minutes in there with you playing Marco Polo. Rain check?” Shane asks, strolling over to give me a quick peck on the lips.
“Okay,” I faux-pout. “But only ’cause I’m hungry and that tops horny.”
“I’ll show you who tops who,” Shane growls with another kiss on the lips, making me giggle. “Be right back.” He disappearsinside, returning with a stack of plates and silverware in one hand and a bowl of rice in the other. Making one more trip, Shane comes back with a delicious-smelling sauce and a plate of warm pita bread.
“Oh my God. That looks amazing. Are the kabobs ready yet?” I ask like an impatient child waiting for their parents to finish cooking dinner. Honestly, he’s lucky I slept most of the drive here, or I probably would have asked the dreaded,are we there yet?
Shane just chuckles, grabbing a plate and a pair of tongs before making his way over to the grill. “Just about. Go ahead and dry off.”
Overeager and a little impatient, I leap out of the hot tub, missing the top step completely and slipping on the edge with my wet feet. “Fuck!” I shout, but before I make painful contact with the deck, Shane’s strong arms wrap around me, and I face-plant into his hard, bare chest. My heart is racing. That could have been bad. That could have ruined the whole weekend before it even started.
“I’m no psychic, but I saw that coming,” Shane murmurs into my ear before setting me back on my feet. “Gotta be more careful with yourself. You’re too important.”
I blush at his words, staring into dark, intense eyes.
Shane steps away with his arms held out in front of him, like I might fall again. “You gonna be okay? We don’t need any injuries.” He tosses me a towel, and I catch it with an eye roll, wrapping it around my waist.
“Ha. Ha. That was just a freak mishap. Won’t happen again.” I don’t even look his way, scurrying to the sliding glass door and down the short hallway to one of two bedrooms in the cabin. I quickly pat myself down, slip off the wet trunks, and put on dry clothes. It’s nothing special, just a pair of black athletic shorts and a loose white tank top. But I don’t miss the way Shane’s eyestravel the length of my body when I step out while he’s setting the table.
“Wow,” I say, in awe at all the food. “Everything looks delicious. Thank you, Shane.”
The table is fit for a king, and I know I am beyond lucky to get to eat his cooking on the regular. I take a seat across from him, while he serves me a little bit of everything from the kabobs. Tender chicken and perfectly seasoned veggies like onions, bell peppers, and mushrooms fill my plate. Next up is a scoop of sticky white rice and a dollop of tzatziki sauce. I help myself to three pieces of pita bread and lean back to admire this incredible plate of food and the amazing chef who prepared it.
I hold my glass of water up. “To friendship, love, and enjoying our lives together.”
“And to my incredible boyfriend for planning this trip,” Shane adds, clinking his glass with mine. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” I whisper, trying not to get choked up.
“Dig in,” Shane encourages, picking up his knife and fork.
I stab some veggies and place them on a pita with a spoonful of tzatziki sauce on top. “Mmm,” I moan, rich flavors bursting across my tongue. “This is so good, Shane.”
He nods in acknowledgement, busy making a mini chicken pita.
We eat in comfortable silence, enjoying the fresh air, each other’s company, and most definitely the food.
After dinner, I wander to the bedroom with sleepy eyes until I spot a perfectly wrapped gift sitting on top of the bed. “Ahh. My surprise,” I murmur.
Shane wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head. “Did you forget?”
I nod, shimmying the lid off the gift box, plucking the sheets of tissue paper out, and tossing them in the air like it’s mybirthday. When I realize what’s filling the box, my stomach hollows out and arousal burns low in my belly.
Shane got me lingerie.
A lot of lingerie.
“Is this a present for me or you?” I giggle, holding up a tiny piece of lace fabric. It’s a red thong with matching garters and thigh-high stockings. The next one is a black mesh one piece that definitely goes up my ass.
“Both of us,” Shane growls, his eyes zeroing in on me and not the lingerie, as if he’s dying to see me in it.
The next piece I hold up is a silky purple thong and matching crop top cami. I love it.
“Did Tate help you?” I ask, thoroughly impressed with his choices.
