Page 7 of Impressing Brett

Brett glances at me several times on the way to his house. I’ve never been there, but it’s not too far, and soon, he’s pulling into the garage of a nice-sized two-story home in a lovely neighborhood. Does he live here alone? I assume so.

Brett is…well…large, for one thing. He’s over six feet. And he kind of fills a room. He’s potent. Powerful. Dominant, I guess. I can’t quite come up with the right words. His brow has been furrowed from the moment we left the house. I think he’s concerned.

Hell, I’m concerned about me. But why is he?

He’s consuming all of the oxygen in his SUV. He does so everywhere I’ve seen him. Even in a crowded restaurant, he sucks all the air out of the room, leaving not enough for anyone else. At least, that’s what I’ve decided since I can’t usually breathe properly when he’s around.

Granted, he’s sex on a stick.

Why the fuck have I agreed to go home with him? I ask myself this over and over. I’m not in my right mind. I’m probably going to stumble over my words and accidentally say something I shouldn’t. Or cry. No man wants to deal with a sobbing woman.

I flinch when I realize he’s opened my door, and I’m still sitting in my seat wearing my seatbelt. It seemed silly when he almost put it on for me before we left Eve and Colt’s house, but now he’s reaching across me to unbuckle it.

“Come on, Little lamb. Let’s get you inside. You need food, a bath, and a bed.”

Little lamb? I glance at him. Where did that come from?

He smiles and shrugs. “You’re being so quiet. Like a lamb.”

I can’t help but return the smile. That’s the goofiest thing I’ve ever heard, and it’s coming from the mouth of this seriously masculine, overwhelmingly powerful man.

“I’m hardly a lamb,” I whisper as I let him help me out of the SUV. “More like a bulldozer.”

He chuckles. “Yeah? Not tonight.”

Okay, he’s probably right. Not tonight.

I hesitate next to his car as he grabs the suitcase. “I don’t even know you. Why are you doing this?” I murmur.

He shuts the door and strokes my cheek. “You know me.”

“Not really.”

“Well enough to know I’m not an ax murderer.” He lifts his brows.

“But not well enough that you should feel obligated to put me up in your guest room.” My heart is thumping at the feel of his fingers on my cheek. He’s never touched me like this before. I’m pretty sure he’s never touched me at all.

“You’re a good friend of Eve’s. Your home is currently condemned. Plus, I suspect you had a lot on your plate before tonight. You could use a soft place to fall and probably a shoulder.” Both brows go up as if in question.

Tears break loose. They run unbidden down my cheeks. Dammit.

Brett sets the suitcase down and hauls me into his arms. He holds me tight.

The dam is broken. I can’t stop now. This was not what I wanted. I should be alone somewhere. I could have fallen apart in a hotel room and not subjected other people to me.

It’s what I do. I smile in public and pretend my world is perfect. I fall apart when I’m alone. I haven’t had to do it as often lately as I used to, but ever since my stupid father died…

Brett threads his fingers in my messy ponytail and strokes my back. I’ve never known a man to be so kind to a stranger.

No. That’s not true. Colt would do this. Most of Colt’s friends would, too. They are good guys. All of them. Including Brett. This is above and beyond, though.

Eventually, he leans me back. “Let’s get you inside, okay, Little lamb?”

I chuckle, tears still falling. “I told you I’m not a lamb.”

“Even your tears are silent,” he points out. He keeps one arm around me, grabs the suitcase with his other hand, and leads me to the door. When he opens it, he ushers me into his kitchen and turns on the lights.

The place is shockingly pristine for a bachelor.

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