Page 43 of Bad Boys After Dark - Brett
“Château Lafite Rothschild?” she asked.
“Your favorite red wine from France.”
“How did you know?” Her mouth twitched in a surprised and still hopeful smile, giving him another dose of too-much-to-handle.
“You ordered it at Mick and Amanda’s wedding, and I heard you tell the girls it was your favorite.” Mick and Amanda had gotten married last year at a bar called the Kiss, and Brett and Dylan had taken over as bartenders for part of the evening.
“And you remembered?”
“I notice and remember everything about you, even before then and every day since. I noticed the way your cheeks pinked up when I propositioned you all those times before we got together, the way you stood up straighter and your eyes squinted the tiniest bit when you were preparing to turn me down, and the way you make sighing sounds at things that must warm you or something. Why do you think I’ve got a bottle of it at my place?”
“Wait. You weren’t kidding when you said that the other night?”
“I told you I would always tell you the truth, didn’t I? I wasn’t kidding. I was hoping you’d eventually accept my proposition.”
“You bought a six-hundred-dollar bottle of wine on the hopes of making out with me?”
“No.” He swept her into his arms and touched his lips to hers. “I bought it knowing I’d never give up trying.”
“That sounds awfully committed, Mr. Bad.” She grinned up at him, and all that hope turned to something he was afraid to name.
“We’re not going to use that word, but yes, I was determined to have you, Ms. Roberts. Now, may I interest you in a movie and a bottle of wine?”
“Like a date?” She whispered the word date.
“What is it with you and labels?”
“I work in a field where we need to be very clear about our intentions.” Her expression turned serious. “Besides, a girl likes to know when she’s crossed over from booty call to something more.”
Brett clenched his hands, scared to take the plunge he avoided like the plague, not because he didn’t trust his feelings for her, but because he didn’t know how the part of him that ran from commitment like a rebellious child would react if he gave in to them.
One look in her eyes and he knew this was a step he wanted—needed—to take.
“You were never a booty call, Soph. You were always something more.”
Chapter Nine
SOPHIE COULDN’T BELIEVE her ears. She’d known in her heart this might eventually happen, but hearing Brett say it was so much bigger than dreaming about it. She had to ask the burning question. “What changed?”
“I don’t know. Everything?”
He carried the wine into the kitchen, and she wondered if he was avoiding the conversation. Running. Feeling boxed in. She handed him two wineglasses from a cabinet.
As he poured the wine, he said, “I hate seeing that look in your eyes, like you don’t know if you can count on me, and I know I cause it. But I don’t want you to worry about whether I’m your man or if I mean what I say.” He turned confident, dazzling eyes on her and said, “I mean every word.”
She felt like she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time and had the urge to text Grace and tell her that he was a mind reader after all. “But what about feeling hemmed in and ruining us?”
He handed her a glass and gazed deeply into her eyes with a serious expression. “I don’t honestly know. I’m messed up, but my brothers worked through their issues, which gives me hope. I want to try with you, Sophie. If you still want to try with me, that is.” He put his hand on hers and said, “You’re trembling.”
She cleared her throat to try to regain control of her emotions. “I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to hear that from you until just now. I want to, Brett. I definitely want to.”
The air rushed from his lungs and he pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Can we talk about it?” she asked carefully, feeling his heart thudding against her own.
“Yes, but if you don’t mind, right now I’d just like to sit and hold you while we watch the movie, drink a little wine, and come to grips with doing what most people do from the time they are teenagers. This is a huge first for me, babe.”
