When I opened my eyes, he was staring down at me with an unreadable expression.
“What?” I asked.
“What was said on the plane—”
“I don't want to talk about it anymore. Can we please—” I looked out the windshield, hoping to find my next words. “—table it? I want to enjoy whatever you have planned, and remembering that time, dredging up those awful feelings and memories, isn't something I want dampening it.”
The knuckles gripping the door turned white, but he didn't object. “I still have a lot of questions, about that night, about what happened next, so this conversation isn't over. You're not letting me off that easy.”
The door slammed shut with a solid thud. I tracked Brenton as he rounded the hood, sliding his sunglass on as he walked. Hot damn, the man was so far out of my league. Back then and now. His tan skin, dark hair, and gorgeous eyes—oh, and that body. It made him the man every woman’s erotic fantasy centered around. And I loved all that, loved every physical inch, but what I adored most were the pieces of himself he only showed me. That soft, emotional heart he hid beneath the gruff, arrogant, controlling exterior.
Which I also happened to love.
All the cards were on the table now. He knew everything about that night that I knew, and it was fucking freeing. A weight I'd carried the past few days—hell, the past thirteen years—lifted from my shoulders. Just like Ryder said, I needed closure to let go of that night and the events that followed. Being with him, helping him with his blackouts the past few days, had given me exactly that.
I hated that I was getting closure on an old wound when his agony was beginning. Our conversation on the plane had ripped open an old wound he wasn’t even aware he’d had until today.
But he would recover just as I did. Brenton and I, we were survivors. And survivors moved on from the hurt, not allowing their pasts to define who they were and rob them of a happy, fulfilling future.
Sky-high apartment buildings towered overhead as Brenton zipped through the busy downtown city streets. Older homes lined one side of the road while the other had small businesses of varying types. As he drove, I studied the variety of people crowding along the wide sidewalks. I never wanted to live in a big city like Dallas, but visiting, playing the role for a couple of hours, was entertaining for sure.
“You hungry?” Brenton asked, breaking my focus with a heavy, warm hand squeezing my inner upper thigh.
With a broad smile, I turned and said, “Starving. Anywhere around here we can get pancakes?”
**
“GO AWAY,” I MUTTEREDinto the comforter beneath my cheek.
Brenton responded with a deep, amused chuckle. “You have to get up if you don't want to spoil my plans for you.”
“What plans?” I grumbled, opening one eye to see if he was serious. The pancakes, eggs, and never-ending mimosas at brunch had me in a food coma. Napping away the afternoon with him by my side sounded way better than anything he could suggest.
“I made you some spa—”
“Thank you, but no. Nap.”
The walls seemed to vibrate with his deep, rolling laugh, which made me smile against the soft duvet.
“There was also some shopping involved,” he mused, like he thought that would convince me to leap off the comfortable bed. He didn't know women as well as he thought. Like I'd go try on clothes with my brunch food baby in my belly that already made my comfortable Wranglers snug around the waist.
“No. Bed.”
“You're turning down spending my money to lie in bed.”
The soft material slid against my cheek as I nodded. “With you. Isn't there a game or something sporty on SportsCenter you can watch while I snuggle you and sleep off this buzz?”
“Now that I can do.” The rustling of clothes drew my attention to where he stood on the opposite side of the bed. Green eyes sparkled when he caught me watching. “I like you watching me with that lusty look.”
A shiver bolted down my spine at his low, seductive tone.
“Well, I like watching when it's someone as sexy as you, Sir Fancy Pants.”
“If you keep looking at me like that, baby, then that nap you hoped for won’t happen. Your choice.”
Even though I did crave his sexy-as-sin body against mine, the champagne made my eyes heavier with each passing second. After a shake of my head to dislodge all the naughty thoughts he invoked, I rolled to my back and pulled my jeans to my ankles.
When they hit the floor, I glanced to where he stood and smirked at his scorching stare at my naked lower half. “You're the one who didn't pack my underwear.” On all fours, I crawled up the bed, bare ass in the air facing him. I reached the top of the comforter, readying to pull it back to snuggle under it when a stinging smack whipped across the right cheek.