“Fine, can I have him?” Without missing a beat, my left leg juts out, kicking Sydnee on the thigh, where she sits at the opposite end of the couch from me. “Ouch! That freaking hurt, Brit.” She rubs her leg where my foot kicked her, and I feel a little guilty for kicking her, but she deserved it. “And you know damn well I was kidding.” She’s right. I do know she’s joking, but when it comes to Kade, Sydnee knows better.
“That wasn’t funny.” If Sydnee had any doubt whether I would kick her ass if she ever tried anything with Kade, she knows now that I wouldn’t hesitate. Even if I can’t have him, the thought of her with him would be unbearable, and that thought alone makes my heart hurt.
A few minutes pass, and we’re both thoroughly invested in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy when my phone chimes alerting me of a text. Grabbing it from the end table, I touch the screen and see Deacon’s name. I don’t want to message him back, but I know if I don’t, he’ll keep texting until I finally respond.
Deacon: What are you and Syd doing after work tomorrow?
Me: Going home and relaxing. Why?
Deacon: I want you both to meet Kade and me at McShane’s Pub.
My hand freezes over the digital keyboard. Is my brother finally giving in and going to step aside so I can see if there is anything between Kade and me? Am I taking Syd for my brother? I scoot closer to Sydnee so she can see my screen, and the edges of her mouth curve up into a grin. My phone chimes and Sydnee elbows me to respond.
Deacon: Hello?
Me: What time?
Deacon: 1930
Me: You know I hate military time.
Deacon: 7:30 brat.
Me: Don’t call me a brat.
Deacon: Fine. 7:30 Your Majesty.
Me: UR a smartass. See you tomorrow.
Deacon: Better than being a dumbass.
Deacon is easily the most annoying person in my life, but he’s my older brother and best friend. I look up to him, and no matter how hard I try to be mad at him or ignore him, it’s not long before I forgive him, and we’re talking again. He’s my anchor, just as I am his. Yes, he has Kade and I have Sydnee, but we’re family; we’re blood. No one can replace our bond.
Once the childish banter with Deacon is over, my thoughts scatter, and I can’t seem to focus on just one of them to articulate a coherent sentence to Sydnee. I know I’m getting my hopes up, but I can’t help it. I’ve waited far too long—sixteen years to be exact—to have my chance with Kade without my brother poking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.
From elementary school through high school, Kade Beaumont occupied my thoughts, my dreams—my life. When I graduated high school and left for southern California, I felt like a part of me was missing. At first, I thought, maybe I was homesick, so I would call my parents and FaceTime with Deacon regularly. Although my conversations with the family helped, it didn’t soothe my sense of longing. That’s when I realized it was Kade that I was missing.
Talk about torture. Try having an overprotective brother’s best friend as your forever crush. Knowing I will see him every day and there’s absolutely nothing I could do to show said crush that I’m interested. In the meantime, I’ve had to endure watching Kade with his girlfriends or whatever you want to call the women of his rotating harem.
Kade is a powerhouse, tall and muscular without being a meathead. His long lashes accent his dark eyes, making them both swoon-worthy and intimidating at the same time. The dusting of stubble across his jawline only adds to his sexiness. All that manliness wrapped in a police uniform makes for one sexy cop god.
“Thoughts about tomorrow? I hear those wheels spinning in your head from here.” Sydnee’s question brings my focus back to her.
“Too many possible scenarios. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then have them crushed. Deacon has a way of ruining my life.”
“He only ruins your sex life. Let’s hope for the best and not be so pessimistic.” Sydnee is right. I’ll give my brother the benefit of the doubt and hope he’s come to his senses.
Yeah, right.
5
Kade
It’s ten o’clock in the morning, and I can’t fall asleep. My usual routine after getting off work is to head home, grab a bite to eat, and go to bed. My room is pitch black, thanks to shades covered by blackout curtains. The dimmed light of my cell phone that is displaying my alarm clock is the only thing I can see.
“Fuck it.” I throw the covers off to the side, swing my legs over the edge of my bed, and stand up. Grabbing my phone off of its wireless charging station, I head out of my bedroom, making my way down the hall to my living room where I plop down on the couch and turn on the television. I don’t have a TV in my bedroom, because a bedroom’s only function should be for sleeping and fucking—nothing else. Hopefully, some mundane television watching will help put me to sleep.
After the fifth episode of Two and a Half Men, I conclude that sleep is not going to come effortlessly today. Leaving the couch, I head into my game room, which is where I had my bar built, and pour myself two fingers of Blanton’s, neat. Once I have my drink, I go back to my bedroom, climb into bed, and grab the Stephen King novel from my nightstand. Maybe the combination of alcohol and reading will make my eyes heavy enough to fall asleep.
Three long chapters later, no such luck. I abandon the pursuit of sleep altogether. Thankfully, I don’t work tonight. Otherwise, I would be a zombie, and that’s never how you want to go out on patrol.
“Hey Siri, open blackout curtains.” Like the obedient voice-activated system she is, the curtains begin to glide open. “Hey Siri, open bedroom blinds.” I specify which room because I have my whole house set up to operate through my phone or iPad. As the window coverings raise, sunlight begins to filter in, brightening up the area.
Changing into my gym gear, I grab my bag, go out to the garage, and jump into the grigio keres Lamborghini Urus that my mother handed down to me. Sometimes it’s nice not having to crawl into a low-slung vehicle, such as my Aston Martin, which is why I chose the SUV for today’s vehicular needs.
It doesn’t take long before I’m parking in front of the gym at Winslow’s winery. On my days off, I stay far away from the police department, so I use Winslow’s gym. This time of day, no one should be working out since it’s mid-day, and most of the employees should be out in the vineyard, at the winery itself, or in the main office where Britney works. To my surprise, when I come around the corner, my eyes immediately lock onto Britney’s body glistening with sweat as she powers through her stair climber workout.
The cardio machines face out toward part of the vineyard, which means Britney doesn’t see me come in, and because she has her earbuds in, she didn’t hear me either. With her back to me, I’m gifted with an unobstructed view of her perfect peach-shaped ass. My junk twitches in reaction to Britney’s curvy figure accented by her form-fitting shorts and sports bra.
Dropping my gym bag by the free-weights, I make my way toward the treadmills to warm up before I start my workout. I purposely choose the treadmill beside Brit’s stair climber. Once I’m on, she startles at my sudden appearance, causing her to miss a step and scrape her shin on the edge of the next step.