Page 17 of Igniting Sparks
Her eyes widen. “I didn’t mean?—”
“It makes sense, no? We’re friends and for the interim, we’re engaged. It’s a good house with plenty of space. Yours if you want it.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
And with that one word, I seal my fate. This beautiful blonde temptress is now going to be living under the same roof. Complete with all her soft smiles, long legs, and flirtatious looks.
I. Am. Fucked.
Mina squeals and wraps her arms around me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you, Braden. I’ll bake and clean and?—”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“We will.”
I lean in and place a gentle kiss to her forehead. It’s a simple gesture to reassure her I’ve got her, even if I’m barely holding it together myself.
She doesn’t flinch or shy away. Just looks at me like I’m her whole damn world.
God help me.
“I better get out there before my client cancels.”
“Go. I’ll text you later. Have the best day, Braden.” Mina walks out with a bounce in her step as I scrub my face with my hands.
This is going to be a disaster. But I can’t say no to her. I don’t think I ever could.
Chapter 4
The Trouble with Skirts
Braden
You can do this, Braden. How hard can it be?
This is my new personal mantra, one I’ve replayed countless times in my brain over the last several days.
Ever since I opened my mouth and invited Mina to live with me.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret helping her out. Not in the slightest. But I have two heads and they’ve been arguing since that fateful day. One reminds me she’s young—tooyoung. The other? Well, he’s far more inclined to celebrate this domestic bliss and fuck the rulebook.
But it’s deeper than that. I already offered her the spare bedroom, so I can’t yank it back now, when she’s packed and her mother is ready to close on the house.
I’m a man of my word, always.
Then there’s Ash and Ori. They may be spectators in this game, but they’re very vocal fans. Ash trusts me and my motives, but he’s no fool. He’s seen Mina plenty of times and knows she’s temptation squared. And Ori? She might be a foot shorter than me, but I’d be a fool to piss her off, and she is mama bear protective of her friend.
I’m stuck in the middle of this melee.
Swigging down the dregs of my coffee, I heave out a sigh and open the truck door, steeling myself for the day. Helping a friend move has always been the bane of my existence, but isn’t that the case with everyone? Who the fuck enjoys moving?
But I have some mighty fine eye candy to occupy my thoughts today.
Sure. A beautiful woman you can’t touch. Have fun with that one, buddy.
I walk through the open front door, peering around at the stacks of boxes and draped furniture. Although small, the Tudor exudes warmth, evident in the jewel-toned rooms and the artwork still hanging on the walls.
