Chapter Eighteen
Madden
When I found out Brielle could make it for the album release party, I wanted to find time to do something special for her.
On our first date at Granite, I told her about life growing up in Carolina Beach and how I wanted to raise a family here too. She still has it in her mind we’re from two different worlds. It was her attempt to, once again, write off any chance we could be together.
I wanted to give her a taste of what life here could be like.
“You ready, baby?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe next to the bathroom. She hasn’t come out since she finished showering. It’s hard to hear what she’s doing in there with the soft sound of music playing.
I told her to pack something casual, so when she pushed me out the door with her towel on, scolding me for thinking I could sneak a peek while she got dressed, I had no idea what to expect.
“Yeahhh…” The words echo around the bathroom.
I take a seat on the end of the bed, waiting for her to come out.
It takes a few minutes before the door handle turns and opens. My eyes widen at the sight of her in a black tank top and distressed denim jeans dipping low on her hips with her strappy high heels.
“You said casual, and this is about as casual as I get.” She smirks.
I reach for her hand, tugging her into my arms, and I’m hit with the floral smell of her perfume mixed with her shampoo. I close my eyes, pressing my mouth against her temple, fighting like hell against the emotions having her here evoke in me.
I’m not ready for her to leave tomorrow, and I’m struggling to come up with reasons to convince her to stay.
“Where are we going?” she asks, leaning back to study my face.
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and lift her mouth to mine.
“You’ll see,” I whisper, linking our hands together and leading her out of the bedroom.
She forgets her purse, and I convince her to leave it here, reassuring her she’ll only need to bring her ID and phone. I’m expecting she’ll want to snap a few photos when she sees where we’re going.
When we step outside and she spots my motorcycle parked out front, her mouth drops open, and she stares wide-eyed at me.
“This is what we’re taking to dinner?”
I grin, watching the slow smile stretch across her face.
“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before,” she admits.
Now it’s my chance to stare at her in shock. “You serious?”
She smirks and nods. “You seem to forget that my family isn’t exactly the type to go riding, and the only man I’ve ever dated went to law school at Columbia. His idea of dressing casual is dress pants and a polo, and that’s pushing it.”
I bark out a laugh and tug her into my arms.
“Well, then, what the hell are you doin’ with me?”
She answers by grabbing the back of my neck and yanking me down, crashing my lips on hers. I moan, gripping her hips, her body molding against mine.
“More like what the hell was I ever doing with him?” she whispers when she leans away.
I crack a grin. “Mmm, that’s what I thought.”
I eye her as she struts down the stairs, circling the motorcycle to check it out. She studies me when I hold up the helmet, smiling as she lets me do the honors of strapping it on.
When I swing my leg over the bike and hit the kickstand, nodding for her to join me, she cups my face in her hands.