Page 52 of Memories of Us

“I brought you lunch.” The tightly wrapped sandwich floated in the air toward Beks and landed beside her on the swing. Not wanting to be within clawing distance of her friend, I collapsed into the porch chair opposite the swing. After a pointed look to the empty donut box at their feet, I leaned back and smirked at the two. “But it looks like I'm a little late. I'm Brenton, by the way.”

“I know who you are.” Beks rolled her beautiful eyes and shoved her friend's shoulder. “I'm Ryder, the best friend. And just so we're on the same page, Brenton, I don't like you, and I think you'll fuck my friend over again. If you have any respect for her, you'll walk away now and never come back.”

Holding her hard stare, I smiled my best arrogant asshole smile. “Good for me that your friend doesn't feel the same way.”

“She should.”

“Says you.”

“Um, guys, I’m sitting right here. Listening,” Beks cut in with a laugh.

The muscles of my jaw twitched as the two whispered back and forth during their long goodbye hug. Before Ryder stepped off the porch, she looked back and said, “See you tonight. We’ll come by and get you.”

Ryder’s old Ford was halfway down the drive when I glanced at Beks with both brows raised.

She held up both hands in surrender. “Ryder is a little overprotective,” she said with a shrug. “Thanks for the sandwich. Even though I ate my weight in donuts, I'm somehow hungry again.”

The first bite prompted the same dick-hardening moan as last night.

“So good. Thank you again. Did you bring any chips, by chance?”

I didn’t shield my wide smile at her hopeful tone. “Sorry, no chips. Simply orgasmic seasoned sandwiches.”

With a huff, Beks uncurled from the swing and marched past me into the house, only to return seconds later with a bag of Cheetos. I watched in disgust as she settled back onto the swing and stuffed the sandwich full of the cheesy chip.

“Stop staring at me like I asked you to eat my ass,” she said with a smirk. “When you're on the road as much as I am, driving between various clients, you learn how to make the most of your mealtime. Stuffing your sandwich full of chips is one of them, and it's good.”

“How's your brother doing?” No way would I comment on her ass-eating statement. Not with her father and brother within earshot. If she or any of them knew what I wanted to do to that ass, they'd shoot me before I could convince her how great it would be.

Fuck.

My dick throbbed against the zipper of my jeans, desperate to pop out and play. I needed to stop thinking about her ass and staring at her amazing tits. Why didn't she have a bra on anyway? I knew how perfect her breasts were, and there she was taunting me with her perky nipples poking right through the Texas A&M T-shirt.

The tips of my fingers and tongue tingled with anticipation, eager to feel her again.

A wadded napkin smacked the side of my face. Knowing full well I was caught staring, a cocky grin spread up my cheeks as I pulled my gaze to meet hers.

“Don't ask a question if you won't bother listening to the answer,” she said with an eye roll.

“Then don't taunt me with your perfect nipples poking out, stealing my attention.”

Beks huffed a laugh around another bite of sandwich and chips. “You're the one who walked over here unannounced. Or did you forget that tidbit.”

Right. To avoid acknowledging the accuracy of her words, I took a healthy bite of sandwich instead of responding.

“Bradley is fine. Not great, but fine. Now that we're on the subject, how do you plan on finding the men he owes the money to?” The slight dip of her tone told of her worry, which made my damn day—it meant she did still care about me. I'd begun to think she wasn’t kidding about using me only for my body.

Did that make me an asshole? Yeah, probably. But I wanted her to care because I did, even though there was no future between us. Her home was here and mine in Kentucky, plus being gone six months to a year at a time on deployments. The army wife life wasn't the life she needed. Beks deserved better than that. Hell, better than me.

I pushed out of the chair with a stifled groan and collapsed beside her on the swing.

“I'll talk to your brother, or maybe Kyle can help me. I’ll get it taken care of, and believe me, I've been around worse people, so don't worry.”

She peered up through dark lashes with those sultry, honey brown eyes. “Okay, no worrying. Listen, this morning I want to find and patch up that injured heifer we found yesterday, and I overheard Daddy talking about some things that need to be done that I'd like to do. Wanna play ranch hand with me for the day?”

One boot on the ground, I crossed the other over my knee. “Do you ever slow down?”

“That's life in the country, Sir Fancy Pants. There’s always something that needs to be done, so no. No one around here does.”

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