Page 44 of Stick to the Plan
My heart swells at the sound of that. With a last nod at Brendan as I take my card, I lead Brianna to the car, my hand firmly anchored to the small of her back. She surprises me by pushing up on her toes to kiss me as I hold the car door open for her. Her fingers trail down my chest and her eyes hold promise as she lowers herself into the vehicle.
I keep my hand on her thigh during the drive. She twines our fingers together as we walk to the front door. Riley happily barks as he bounces at our feet. As I watch him sniff around the backyard, Brianna twines her arms around my waist from behind. I turn in her embrace and drop a kiss to her forehead. She tilts her head back and I indulge in a sensual exploration of lips and tongue.
This is heaven.
A bump at my calf draws my attention. Riley is back and making his presence known. Reluctantly, I end the kiss and lock up behind me. As Brianna takes my hand again, her eyes darken with desire. She bites her lip as she walks backwards towards her bedroom, guiding me with her.
I need no encouragement. We come together in a hungry rush of hands and lips. Clothes drop abandoned along the way. Brianna climaxes twice before I find my own release and we fall asleep in each other’s arms. Utterly content.
Chapter thirty-one
Make it a Double
Brianna
“Do you want a drink?” Anna asks from the depths of her refrigerator.
I slick back my already smooth ponytail and look up from the piles of documents spread across her kitchen island. “Got any Jameson?”
“Not unless I run down to the bar. I got Fireball!”
I consider for a beat. “Got any hard cider?”
Anna disappears deeper into the fridge until only her denim clad Georgia peach is visible. Glass clinks as she digs through the various supplies. “Yes! Found two bottles — you want the cider or the whiskey?” She stands and looks at me.
“Girl, do you need to ask?” I level her with a weighted look.
“ANGRY BALLS!” We cry in unison, laughing.
Anna pours the amber cider into fresh glasses and then digs out a shot glass.
“Bettermake it a double,” I say, as the first shot of cinnamon whiskey joins the cider. With a shrug, she pours more directly from the bottle without measuring.
I take a sip - like apple pie in a glass.
Anna takes her own drink and comes around to sit on the stool next to me. She waves her hand at the stacks. “So what’s the verdict?”
“Business is good. Still might be a little too early to talk expansion, but we’re heading in the right direction.” I push my latest calculations towards her on the counter.
“Shoot, I’ve been itchin’ for a challenge. Anythin’ we can do in the meantime?”
“Well, ladies’ night is always a hit! The bar is packed down there. We can do more events or theme nights. If that goes well, we could expand the back section a bit and add doors. Make it more event-friendly?”
Anna lets out a whoop of excitement. We brainstorm ideas as we finish our drinks — 80s night, five course prix fixe menu. She jots them down on her phone and promises to come up with some more. “So,” Anna says as she lowers her empty glass to the counter with a thunk. “How is it going with the gorgeous Mr. McLeary?” She must be tipsy because she waggles her eyebrows at me, looking ridiculous.
I blush and chug the rest of my drink as I think about how to respond. It’s been a few weeks since we started sleeping together, and it’s felt like a dream. Our days have changed little, but they are more light-hearted. Our nights are spent together - it’s not always mussed sheets and seeking hands. Some nights, we just sit and read on the couch together. Others, we talk about nothing and everything. By some unspoken agreement, Colin always ends up in my room with me. I’ve gotten some of the best sleep of my life. “Good. Just keeping it casual - roommates with benefits.” I keep my eyes on the papers as I gather them up, avoiding eye contact.
“Sure, casual.” Anna draws out the word to twice its length, sounding about as sarcastic as a southern girl can. She lifts her phone and starts typing out something.
“Oh, no - what are you up to?” I eye her uneasily.
“Calling in reinforcements.” Moments pass as she sends another message and waits for a response. Her phone buzzes once and she puts it down with a satisfied smile.
“Nic?” Really don’t think I’m up to an inquisition from both of them.
There’s a knock on her door, and Anna jumps up to answer. Asher Ramstad - our lead bartender from Pop - strides in with six hard ciders held between his fingers. “You rang, ladies?”
I laugh. “Well, I guess that’s one benefit to living over a bar!”
