Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,44

already laid down blankets to claim their spots. Just like I did earlier, knowing all too well how territorial people were on this night. I spotted the green-and-blue plaid blanket I’d set down and stepped over lawn chairs and George Foreman’s to get there, careful to avoid the odd running child.

Presley sat on one side and I joined her, finishing my corn and wrapping the remains in the foil cone it came in.

“You’ve been every year, haven’t you?” She smiles at me.

“Even when I was too cool and in high school.”

“I keep forgetting this was where you went to high school.” She finishes her corn and mimics my actions from a minute ago.

“Right over there is where I sat in the dugout during games.”

She rolls her eyes. “Is someone trying to impress me with his glory days?”

The sun has sunk past the tree line, swathing the field in darkness, but the sky is still light enough that the fireworks display won’t start for another hour or two. Either way, I move in closer to her, closing the small space between us on the comforter. I move so that she’s sitting in between my legs; her back to my front, and wrap my arms around her waist.

Like this, I can bury my nose in her hair and nuzzle past it to the soft spot on her neck that makes her shiver when I inhale there. As if on cue, a small ripple moves down Presley’s limbs, and she swats gently at the hand secured on her stomach.

“You keep doing that and this fireworks show is going to be anything but G-rated.”

“Is that a promise?” My voice comes out husky.

“Cool it, hotshot. Tell me more about your golden boy days.” She turns her face and those green eyes flash up at me in amusement.

I laugh. “I was pretty much the same. Too concerned about grades, colored inside the lines and always did the responsible thing. I was pretty okay at baseball … Bowen was the superstar, actually.”

“Hmm, somehow, none of this surprises me. Remind me to make you play hooky from work one day, you have a lot of catching up to do. Why didn’t Bowen go pro?”

I know it’s Bowen’s story to tell, but I can’t just brush her off. “He was in a bad car accident. Broke his clavicle, couple of ribs, right arm, his left hand and leg. After that, his body didn’t function the same in the sport.”

She goes quiet in my arms and faces forward again. “The accident with Lily, right?”

Imperceptibly, I nod into her cheek, where I place my own. “It’s not my story to tell.”

Presley settles back against me again. “I’m not asking you to. You’re a good brother, Keaton.”

“So, what do we do until the fireworks start?” I change the subject.

“Are you asking for a little football field nookie?” Presley tilts her head back to look up at me.

“I have always had that fantasy. Maybe a little over the pants hand job action?” I whisper in her ear.

“Seriously? Keaton Nash, the good boy vet, is asking for an OTPHJ?”

Her acronym has me cracking up. “Yeah, I guess there are children around. And we wouldn’t want to scare the nice sweet corn stand ladies.”

“Or the Amish pretzel people.” She snickers, and I know she’s thinking about me coming in my pants while the straitlaced Pennsylvania Dutch stood selling their wares just feet away.

“You make me crazy.” I growl.

Because she does. Presley brings out the real me, the man I never knew was there.

Life before her was muted, and with her in my arms, I saw nothing but fireworks.

24

Presley

I have a boyfriend.

The concept is so foreign that sometimes, I find myself just giggling at nothing.

Not to mention, I have a boyfriend who was a sex god. Like … no joke, honest to … well, God … sex god. Who the hell would have thought, Dr. Keaton Nash, the small-town vet, would be an animal in bed.

A shiver runs over my flesh, causing goose bumps to rise, just thinking about the nights we’d spent in his bed. Endless hours of touching, different positions, those dark eyes pinning my soul to the bed just like he was pinning my body with his … it all melded together to make me a mushy pool of lust.

But our time spent together was more than just fucking, more than just the physical release. The way that Keaton’s gaze bore into me … it was like he was reading my most inner