Brody pats his muscular abdomen. “I could eat brown sugar all night long.”
A whirling goes off in my brain as one would expect at a firehouse. The blaze between us is on the verge of combusting. I glance at a lone car traveling down the street. It’s a weeknight. Michie’s just closed. The streets are as naked as I want us to be, but a friggen car had to drive by at the wrong time.
My mind reverts to the simplest form.
Licking is all I know.
Stop it, Justice! I open my purse and sift around for my keys, sauntering past him toward the driver’s side door. “Why are you here?”
“Ya need a new engine, Justice. It’s not a matter of me takin’ forever fixing yer car—”
“Would you honestly want to take forever fixing my car?” I inquire while contemplating the rest internally. Forever—that alone signifies your desire to have me as more than a fuck buddy. Say yes! We can catch up on the tension between us.
Brody laughs softly. “I offered to buy the parts.”
My eyes glare through him, cursing his unwillingness to fall into my innocent snare. “No. Remember the part where I owe no one.” My eyes twinkle. His hypnotic blue ones roll away for a moment. “Anyway, I made some good tips tonight. In a few weeks, I’ll have enough for the major parts. If you still feel like tinkering—”
“Feck this hunk of junk, Justice. There are four-hunner-thousand-miles on the speedometer. Put the motherfecker out of its misery.”
“No.” I open the door.
Brody clasps my arm. He’s the only man I’ve ever met whose fingers and thumb collide when handling me.
“I offered ye a fecking car. No favors. Scot-free.”
“Scot-free? And here I thought you were all Scot. Now, unhand me, barbarian.” My dramatic attempt to wrestle my arm away won’t score an Oscar—what a pointless effort. He clutches harder.
“Free, Justice. That’s the part that scares ye,” Brody handles me like a rag doll, “owing someone. It’s just another tin-box, less of a piece of crap. Stop being stubborn.”
“While I appreciate that, the old duct tape and glue trick hasn’t failed me.” Now, I’m talking out of my ass.
“Nae.” He takes my other arm now, backing me against the car door. His hands drop onto the roof on either side of me. There’s no escaping him and those eyebrows that I still want to lick. Hairy balls that I still want to suck. That dick that I still want to bounce on.
“Ye didn’t fix this piece of shite, Justice,” he snarls. “I did the best I could with this heap of junk given the circumstances. I have to worry ‘bout ya every night.”
“Why?” I stare up at him, chin jutted. Say you care just a little. This is intimacy, Brody. Not fucking. Intimacy is us touching, communicating with each other. Tell me that you haven’t thought of me too. Though I only have the nerve to ask, “Why, Brody?”
The stars crumble around us as I look up at the dominating force that will never conform to what I desire in a man. The moon glints off his eyes. Those azure windows remind me Brody’s more dangerous than he’s let on in the past.
Brody’s mouth drops to my forehead—the kiss of lovers in the most simplistic form.
“Stop pissing me off, Justice,” he growls, breath raking across my temple. “Start yer car. I’ll follow ye to me bràthair’s place. But before I do that, you have two options. Food or the shooting range.”
“Why would I visit the shooting range at three o’clock in the morning?” Heat lifts from Brody’s body. I suspect if he has to ask me twice, I’ll be subjected to his fury.
“I’m a crack shot with the three eighty in my purse, though I appreciate your concern. I am a little hungry.” I strut to the door. “But you still haven’t answered why you’ve felt so inclined to help me.”
“Start yer car.”His glower tests me to speak. I climb inside, and he watches as I lock the door. The second he turns away, warning signs shoot like meteors in my brain. I press the ignore button.