Page 35 of The Beautiful Mess

Keegan would’ve recognized Kerry without seeing the logo on the vehicle or hearing it from the reporter. The video cut to a different scene, one where a man in a harness went over the side of the bridge and the reporter again stated the obvious perils. The camera zoomed in to capture the intensity in Kerry’s expression as his crew lowered him closer to the truck. He was saying something to the driver, but the microphones were too far away to capture his words.

“He’s so brave,” Harry said.

“And smoking hot,” Rory added.

Metallic grinding and groaning noises came from the truck, and Keegan squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t think I can watch this.”

A small hand rested between his shoulder blades and rubbed soothing circles. “You know there’s a happy ending, or Sven wouldn’t have sent it to you,” Harry said.

Keegan nodded and opened his eyes again, but his heart raced a mile a minute as he watched Kerry rescue the driver and haul him up to safety. Harry had to remind him to breathe a few times as they watched the action unfold. The trio groaned in unison when the rescued driver vomited on Kerry. “There goes my appetite,” Keegan complained.

But then the footage skipped forward to a view of Kerry stripping down to his underwear at the side of his truck. Heat and want flared to life inside Keegan.

“Oh my,” the reporter said breathlessly.

Rory snorted. “Someone sounds thirsty.”

“Indeed,” Harry said, though she sounded a little breathless too.

Video proof of Kerry’s survival wasn’t enough. The urge to see, touch, and taste him grabbed Keegan by the heart in an unrelenting grip. He swiped up to dismiss the text thread and tucked his phone away. “I need to go.”

Rory hummed approvingly while Harry burst into frenzied motion, wrapping food in foil or placing it in storage containers. She darted into the pantry and returned with a picnic basket.

“Going somewhere?” Rory teased.

“I’m not, but Keegan is.” She looked up from her work and smiled at him. “I don’t want you showing up on his doorstep empty-handed.”

Rory snorted. “Your cooking is incredible, but it will be the last thing on Kerry’s mind if Keegan shows up on his doorstep looking like that.” He circled his forefinger in Keegan’s direction.

“Look like what?” Keegan gazed down at his jeans and red hoodie. There was nothing enticing about his chosen wardrobe.

“Oh honey,” Harry said. “It’s your expression, not the clothes on your body.”

Keegan darted around the corner of the kitchen and studied his reflection in the hall mirror. His cheeks looked flushed, and the expression in his hazel eyes was… Well, he didn’t know. He’d never really noticed it before now. His pupils seemed bigger, and he looked…hungry. Keegan blinked, but the yearning was still there. Acknowledging the hunger only intensified the sensations elsewhere, as if his body had truly come alive for the first time. Was he crazy to get in his truck and drive to Kerry’s house? And to do what? Feed him breakfast? Keegan cocked his head to acknowledge it was a good icebreaker. He turned back toward the kitchen before he could talk himself out of it and nearly ran into Harry as she rounded the corner with the basket in one hand and a thermos of coffee in the other.

She handed both things to him and rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Drive carefully, and do not hurry back.” She winked cheekily. “I’ll be mighty disappointed if you do.”

“Should I leave a note for Cash?” Keegan was eager as hell to get to Kerry’s house, but he didn’t want to let down the man who’d gone to bat for him in ways no one else ever had. He cycled through the things he’d planned to do but couldn’t think of anything so pressing it couldn’t wait a few hours.

“I’ll tell him when he comes to breakfast.” She gave Keegan an impish grin. “The boss knows a thing or two about living in the moment. I promise he won’t be upset with you.”

“Thank you for this,” Keegan said, lifting the basket and thermos. “I don’t know how any of us would make it without you.”

Harry dismissed the idea with a wave before turning back toward her kitchen. “Don’t forget your boots, honey,” she called out.

Keegan glanced down at his socked feet and laughed. He absolutely would’ve walked straight out the door in his haste to get to Kerry’s house. Keegan stopped at the door long enough to slide his feet into his boots before heading outside. A cacophony of distant voices warned that the rest of the crew was walking to the ranch house for breakfast, so he moved his feet faster to avoid them and their probing questions. He made it to the truck and was backing out of his parking spot before his friends emerged from the shadows and stepped into the circles of light cast from the porch sconces. He gave them a quick wave before driving away. He met Rueben on the long driveway and kept going instead of stopping to talk. His best friend would want to know where he was going before the sun was up, and telling Rueben might force Keegan to reevaluate his actions. He’d spent two years analyzing everything he’d ever said or done, and for once, he just wanted to follow his instincts.

Later, Keegan wouldn’t remember the rest of the drive to Kerry’s house. His next vivid memory was of standing on the porch and trying to decide if he should just ring the bell or call Kerry. Keegan set the thermos and basket down on the porch and fished his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Kee.” Kerry’s sleepy voice sent a zing of longing straight to Keegan’s groin. His breath hitched, and Kerry sounded more alert when he said, “Is everything okay?”

Keegan willed his racing heart to calm down. “That depends.”

“On?”

“How you feel about me showing up on your porch unannounced…with a basket full of goodies?”

“Like Little Red Riding Hood?”

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