In Name Only (Pine Falls #2) - Jennifer Peel Page 0,99
of everything else. Which wasn’t to say it hadn’t come up, but Brant had told Brock that he’d laughed in Edward’s face, saying he was grasping at straws and Edward knew it. He told Edward that he would end up with egg on his face if he ever suggested it. Still, it didn’t stop me from worrying about it or feeling guilty. I honestly just wanted to tell the truth about it, at least to my family. It was Brant that was adamant that we keep it quiet. He was deeply concerned about how it would hurt Kinsley, and she was the last person he ever wanted to hurt. I believed more had transpired between those two than any of us ever knew or would know.
It’s not like I wanted my family to hate me—and I was afraid they might—yet the guilt ate at me. I tried to take comfort in seeing that Kinsley was happy and that Brant didn’t have to marry that wench, Jill. But had I taken part in ruining what could have been a beautiful love story between my sister and Brant?
Brock stirred, shaking me out of my thoughts. Without him even opening his eyes, his lips found mine, making me forget for a moment that anyone existed but us. He groaned and ran his hand down my back, pulling me closer. The taste of the red wine we’d drunk the night before lingered on his tongue; it was more intoxicating than the alcohol. I loved how my body contoured perfectly against his. How his hands could hold me so firmly yet gently caress all my curves, I didn’t know. His kisses were perfection—a mixture of urgency while savoring each sweep of my mouth.
My hands worked their way to his chest and ached to unbutton his shirt, to let us become man and wife in every sense. But my heart wasn’t ready yet. I needed to work through my guilt and remove any doubts about us. Brock was doing an excellent job helping with that.
“Good morning,” I whispered against his lips when he let me catch my breath.
“Very good,” he breathed out.
“I’m sorry, but I need to get up. We open the gift wrapping store today.” Every year we wrapped gifts to raise funds for the local food bank that supported foster families, and it also gave us a place where individuals could drop off their donated gifts. It meant extra hours, but it was worth it. One thing I could do well was wrap gifts.
He nibbled on my earlobe, making my body shake in delight.
“Brock . . . you’re not . . . playing fair,” I stuttered out between shivers.
“Not even a little,” he admitted.
I closed my eyes and let myself be immersed by his touch. A war raged inside of me. I didn’t want to move, but I knew I had people counting on me. “Brock,” my voice begged him to stop, yet I arched my neck, silently asking him to continue. He was happy to oblige and pressed warm kisses down my neck.
“I need to go.”
“Do you really?” His breath played hot against my skin.
I nodded while my hands ran up through the back of his hair. I wasn’t doing a good job of convincing him. In a brief moment of lucidity, I pulled away and peered into his lively blue eyes. “You are wicked,” I teased.
“You have no idea.” He wasn’t teasing at all.
Part of me screamed to beg him to show me now, then the responsible side won out. “I look forward to you showing me exactly how much . . . later.”
“Fine,” he groaned. “Why don’t you go get ready while I make you breakfast, and then I’ll drive you into town. Do you mind if I help you out today?”
“I would love that.”
“Would you love it if I helped you through the holidays?”
“Yes. But what about your job?”
“I’m on medical leave until January.”
“You don’t say.” I smiled.
“I do say. So, get ready for weeks of me wooing the hell out of you.”
I giggled. “I suppose I could be amenable to that.”
“You suppose, huh?” He grinned sexily.
“I mean, I’ll do my best to endure it.”
“Then I will do my best to leave no doubt in your mind about how much I love you. How much I want you to be my wife.”
My heart warmed even hotter than he’d set my body on fire. “I believe you.”
“That’s a start.”
It was.
~*~
I stood at the back of the tiny storefront, watching my husband.