Page 44 of Where We Bloom

Brooks is the oldest of us, and I’m the baby. And although all of my brothers have always been my protectors, Brooks takes that role the most seriously.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is gruff. He smells a bit like motor oil, thanks to his auto repair shop, and fresh air, thanks to riding on his bike.

“Stop.” I shake my head and pat him on the chest. “Seriously, I feel fine. Maybe a little hungry, but there are tacos inside, and I’m always hungry whenever anyone mentions Mexican food. As evidenced by my hips.”

I think I hear Connor growl behind me, and Brooks pulls back.

“Don’t youeverput yourself in that kind of a position again, little girl.” He’s glaring at me, but I know it’s a front.

He was scared. Brooks is rarely scared, but when he turned up last Sunday, I saw true fear in his eyes. It took Blake and me about thirty minutes to reassure him that I was okay.

“Right.” I roll my eyes. “Because it wasmyfault. Butdon’t worry, I’m never drinking alcohol again. Just the thought of it makes me want to toss cookies.”

Brooks shifts his gaze to Connor. “Thanks again.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” the man replies, speaking for the first time since he arrived.

“We both know that’s not true,” Brooks replies before turning and walking inside, leaving me alone on the porch with a certain sexy Irishman.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would. They all hover. It’s the side effect of being the youngest out of a bunch of boys.” I lower my butt to the chair across from Connor and rub my hands up and down my thighs. His gaze moves down my body, over my pink tank top, my simple denim wide-leg capris, to my sandal-covered feet. And when those green orbs return to my face, there’s heat in them.

Christ, he’s beautiful. He’s in jeans himself and a plain black T-shirt that shows off the defined muscles of his biceps, which always sends my lady bits into overdrive. Every time he’s dressed casually, it’s a punch to the gut.

His dark hair is tousled, his chiseled jaw covered in a light stubble, and I wonder if he slept well last night.

I know I didn’t.

“How are you?” I ask him, and by the way he presses his lips together, the question seems to take him by surprise. I want to reach out and take his hand, so I fist my own and keep it in my lap. His eyes fall to watch the movement, and his jaw firms. “Doesn’t anyone ever ask how youare?”

“Not often.” He pushes his fingers through his hair and nudges his glasses up his nose. “I’m well, thank you for asking.”

So he gets formal when he’s taken off guard.

I feel like so many things are falling into place, and I’m seeing him through a different lens.

“I guess my whole family must have reached out to thank you for what you did.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aye.”

“Even my parents?”

He doesn’t look away from me. “Aye.”

With a nod, I reach up to finger the pendant at my throat and bite my lip. “Are you hungry?”

He stands and offers me his hand. Without hesitation, I take it, soaking in the warmth from his touch, and let him pull me to my feet.

And when we’re just inches apart, he tips my chin up so he can look me in the eyes.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs. “I’d like to spend the day with you.”

I almost agree, and then I blink. “I can’t.” I see his face close off and hurry to explain. “I would like that, but I really can’t. I only have two employees, and I want two people in the store at all times. Tiffany is having a medical procedure done and can’t work tomorrow, so I have to go in.”

He seems to visibly relax with that explanation.

“What day would work for you, angel?” he asks.

“I can take Friday.” It feels so far away, but I wantTiffany to have enough time to recover. “She’ll be back at work on Friday.”

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