Page 26 of Devoted

I laugh. “Thanks. For a moment there, I questioned whether I had zoned out completely for a while.”

“Okay,” he starts again. “Biggest fear…”

I shake my head, baffled that this man is getting me to open up to him so easily. “You’re probably going to laugh at me. But—I am deathly afraid of the ocean.”

Brooks seems taken aback by my answer. “Really? Did something happen, or do you just hate that it’s so big and you can’t see the bottom?” He mocks, but then his face falls flat as I’m sure mine turns white.

I nod once and then take a deep breath, preparing myself to retell the story that gave me nightmares as a child for years. “My parents used to take us to the coast every summer. We would rent a house on the beach and stay for almost a week. My little sister and I loved it. We played in the sand, practically lived in our swimsuits, and loved picking up seashells that would wash up on the shore.” I pause to take a drink and then continue. “But one day, I got brave. I was nine, my sister was seven, and I wanted to swim out further in the water and ride the waves back in on my boogie board. You don’t realize how strong the current is until you get pulled under. I remember the moment before I blacked out, thinking this was how I was going to die. I was young, but I knew I couldn’t breathe anymore…”

“Wow, Jess. I’m sorry. Obviously, you’re still alive, but—”

“I was traumatized. A lifeguard saved me, gave me mouth-to-mouth for over ten minutes before I finally started breathing again. My parents were a mess, my sister was terrified, and it was the last summer we ever went to the beach. I’ve been back since, but I never go in the water. I love the setting though—the sound of the waves crashing, the saltiness of the air, the warm sand beneath my toes. But I always stay clear of the ocean.” Those summers are some of my favorite memories growing up, the visions of my mother being so vibrant during those trips makes me start to get emotional.

Brooks leans back in his seat, his eyes wide as he takes in my story. “Jesus, Jess. I never would have known. You’re always so strong, so self-assured.”

“I’m human like everyone else, Brooks. I’m strong when I need to be, but I still have fears.” Reaching for my drink, I drain the last few drops and then slide my fresh one over, calming myself in the process so I don’t break down in front of this man on our first date. “What about you? What’s your biggest fear?”

He stares at me intently before swallowing hard and then finally answering. “Ending up alone.”

“Wow. You don’t hear many men admit to that,” I chuckle. “Is that why you’re pursuing me? So you don’t die a cranky old man, Brooks?” I’m trying to be playful, but the intense look he’s giving me from his seat is making me start to sweat. Damn. Did I say something to offend him? Do men get sensitive when you talk about them aging? Is this a rule I just broke?

“I will not be cranky, and I’m sure as hell not that old, sweetheart. And even when I am, you’d have to do a hell of a lot to get me to stop going after you.”

Brooks signals for the waitress, but never breaks eye contact with me. He hands her his card from his wallet before she walks away, his eyes still trained on my face. “I don’t want you to be afraid of this attraction between us, Jess. It should fuel that fire in you, not smother it. That sassy woman I met at Skye’s—that’s the real you. Don’t hide her. Let me see the raw need you have for me, and I’ll do the same. We’re both adults. There’s no need to play games here. So yes, I will continue to go after you because the way you look at me is only a fraction of the way I look at you, or at least a fraction of what I let you see. You, Jessalyn Harris, are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. And when I drive you home and walk you to your door tonight, I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.”

Suddenly the room is a thousand degrees and my throat is as dry as the Sahara. Dear Lord—please help me. Because if this is how Brooks is before we’ve even kissed, I can only imagine how he’s going to unravel me further down the road.

The waitress returns, Brooks signs the receipt and then stands, holding his hand out to help me from my side of the table. As I place my fingers delicately in his, he squeezes my hand in reassurance, and then leads me out of Tony’s with his palm on the small of my back, staking his claim of me to everyone in the bar.

He helps me into his car again and then I direct him to my apartment. The entire drive there my body is humming, nerves firing rapidly at the anticipation of the kiss he promised me just moments before. God, I want his kiss, the lure of that promise hanging loudly in the car, even though we remain silent during the drive.

If you had asked me four hours ago if I thought my night would end up like this, I’d thought you were insane. But as Brooks follows me up the stairs to my front door, the heat coming off of his body coating mine in a warmth from behind, I revel in the fact that tonight I ended up exactly with the person I wanted to in the first place. I went there trying to avoid my feelings for him, but apparently our mutual attraction was just too strong for even the universe to ignore.

I slide my key into the lock and then turn the knob, opening the door first so I don’t have to fiddle with it later—because I’m pretty sure after Brooks kisses me, my entire body is going to be shaking.

“Well, tonight turned out differently than I imagined,” I say once I turn around to face him again. His eyes burrow into mine as he stands there, towering over me in the soft glow of my porch light.

“Funny. It turned out exactly how I imagined.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, moving closer to me, wrapping his hands around my waist, and pulling me into his chest. The difference in our height is so monumental, his presence consuming me in a way I’ve never felt. Brooks Bennet is all man—tall, broad, sculpted, and sweet, with a hint of commanding alpha that I can’t help but find even more alluring. The way he makes me feel is so different from what I’ve felt with other men that it’s overwhelming and makes me forget how to form words.

“Jess,” he starts, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and almost revealing a hint of pain in them. “I have a lot going on in my life right now, but I knew that if I didn’t pursue you tonight, I would have regretted it. My goal tonight was to be honest with you about how much I want to get to know you. I know it’s complicated with our work situation, but I think the connection between us is worth developing. And I’d really like to take you out again soon.”

My lips stretch open as the thought of Brooks and I spending more time together becomes a reality. “I’d like that too.”

“And no more hiding from me, okay? You don’t need to be scared of me, or what this is,” he says, gesturing with his hand back and forth between us. “This is real. And I know that because it’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

My hands travel up around his neck and my fingers drag through the hair right at his nape, my mind trying to process that I’m actually touching this man I’ve been admiring from afar for weeks. I stare intently into the soft brown eyes looking back at me, waiting for him to disappear—for the entire evening to evaporate in front of me.

But Brooks is right. This is real. And it’s terrifying. But aren’t most things that are worth the risk?

Before I can respond, Brooks’ mouth descends on mine and the press of his lips against my lips shatters that last bit of reservation on my part. Because this kiss—this kiss is weeks of fantasies coming true, electricity burning between two people in the most magnetic of ways, an orange flame turning to the hottest blue in an instant.

Brooks’ powerful hands grip me tighter and pull me closer as we melt into one another, the low hum of his approval resonating in his throat and vibrating against my lips. And then with one swipe of his tongue, I open up to him and the sensation of tasting him drags me further under the wave of pleasure washing over me. Beer and a hint of cinnamon on his tongue from that godforsaken gum that he chews hit my taste buds and send me into a frenzy of sensations.

Brooks tangles his tongue with mine and now I know—I don’t want him to be another victim of my curse. I want him for myself. Because if this is how this man kisses, I can only imagine what other skills he has.

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