Page 10 of Butter My Biscuit

I hope you have fun. Wear protection. And try to make it home in one piece.

Harrison

Will do.

Beckett

It’s gonna work out.

Harrison

Thanks, bro.

Today might be one of the longest days of my life. I voiced my concerns when she invited me on this trip, but I was told to stop acting like an older brother. No matter how hard I try, I can’t do that. Protecting her, making sure she’s safe, is something I’ve been doing since we were kids. That ain’t changing.

After I finish one cup of coffee, I open a dating app to find my next distraction. Gonna be honest—this part of Texas has some attractive women. If their profile makes me laugh and they’re attractive, I swipe right.

Just as I’m going for cup two, I hear feet walking across the floor, and moments later, Grace enters the kitchen. Her dark, long hair is a mess, and she smiles up at me. Then, she chugs a cup of water.

“Thirsty?” I ask, laughing.

“For more than just this,” she mutters.

I glance down, noticing she’s still wearing the socks I gave her.

She looks at them too. “These were cozy. Instantly fell asleep once my toes were warm.”

“You sure it was the socks?” I lift a brow, looking at her over my mug.

A sly grin meets her lips, and there’s an underlying current streaming between us. Or maybe I’m just tired.

“Could’ve been little Harri pokin’ my back all night.”

“Pfft. Little?Please.”

She snorts and sits on the stool. “Show me then. Prove me wrong.”

I meet her eyes. “You sure about that?”

“Nah, I was kiddin’. Don’t want to see your sausage this early in the morning.”

My phone vibrates, and I get a notification from the dating app.

Grace glances down at it. “You should let me pick your dates.”

I unlock it and hand it to her. “Go for it. You know what I like.”

She starts swiping and stops. “Oh, she’s really pretty.”

Grace turns the phone around and shows me.

“Gorgeous.” I meet her eyes, knowing for damn sure I ain’t talking about that stranger on the app. “Want some breakfast?”

Her eyes quickly slide up and down my body. “I had them stock the fridge with food. Should have some bacon and eggs in there. I can cook for us.”

“I got this,” I say, opening the fridge and pulling everything out.

Grace yawns, and I pour her a cup of coffee and add the perfect amount of vanilla cream.

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