Kristen Ashley - Wild Man

Uh-oh.

I turned in Brock’s arms and he let one drop but the other one he used to tuck my front in his side and keep me close as I looked to a Levi who had his hands up and his thoughtful hazel eyes were on me.

Then they went to his brother as his hands dropped. “I’m seein’ I might have got it wrong.”

“You think?” Brock asked sarcastically.

“I was –”

“You were doin’ what you do, Levi, mouthin’ off without thinkin’. You gave me the two minutes Tess gave me, I woulda told you the same thing I told Tess.”

Levi’s lips twitched and he reminded his brother, “You had to put your hand over her mouth to get that in there, Slim.”

“All right, next time you mouth off and piss me off, I’ll let loose the urge to find a way to shut your mouth so I can have my say, is that good for you?”

Hmm. It appeared even though Levi admitted he was wrong, Brock wasn’t going to let it go.

It was time for me to intervene mainly because we’d lucked out the boys hadn’t shown in the middle of this drama and the longer we were at it, the more we courted it.

So I found my mouth saying, “Lenore is in love with you.”

Levi had his mouth open to retort to his brother but his head jerked, his mouth snapped shut and his eyes sliced to me.

Brock’s arm around my back gave me a squeeze.

“What?” Levi asked.

“Jesus, fuck,” Brock muttered.

I looked up at Brock to see him scanning the ceiling.

Oh well. It was out there.

I looked to Levi.

“Lenore is in love with you,” I repeated.

He did a slow blink.

Uncanny, just like his brother.

Then he asked, “Did she tell you that?”

“A girl knows,” I informed him.

“A girl knows,” he repeated after me.

I shrugged.

He stared at me.

Damn. I had to keep going.

“Okay, well, you’ll probably never notice shit like this but her outfit at Thanksgiving…

very nice. It suited her. This is good for you if you’re, uh…” I paused then forged on,

“interested in her. She’s young but she knows herself, what suits her. A lot of girls struggle with that through their twenties and into their thirties. She’s already found her style. That’s impressive.”

Levi blinked again.

I kept talking.

“Anyway, what I mean to say it, it was very nice but not too nice. She wanted to make a good impression not to be in your face about how pretty she is or what a great body she has.

And she’s pretty, don’t you think?” His eyes slid to his brother and I kept going. “Well, of course you do.” His eyes slid back to me. “You were with her. My point is she wanted to make a good impression on your family. She thought Thanksgiving was a move forward in your relationship and it was important to her. But I think it wasn’t only that. It was about being part of you, reflecting on you. She wanted your family to like her but she wanted to represent you in a good light to them too. No flashy clothes. No cleavage. Not overboard.

Decent, respectable. She cares about you and what your choice of her says about you.”

Levi stared at me again.

Then he asked, “You got all that from an outfit?”

“Well…” I hesitated, “yeah.”

Brock’s body started rocking again and I looked at him to see he was now staring at his bare feet but he was doing it smiling.

“That doesn’t say she’s in love with me, Tess,” Levi noted and my eyes went back to him.

“No,” I agreed. “It says you mean something to her. I knew she was in love with you when you tested me, your whole family got pissed at you and she closed in on you.”

Levi’s body went visibly still.

Quietly, I went on. “It was automatic. You were pissed, facing off against the force of the Lucas Brigade and she didn’t move away and leave you hanging and she wasn’t afraid of or turned off by your anger. And she also didn’t hesitate. She moved right in and had your back.”

“Christ,” Levi whispered, his eyes glued to me.

“She’s sweet. She’s thoughtful. She’s polite. She has great style. And she’s head over heels in love with you,” I said softly. “So, if you can’t feel that for her, it’s not my place to tell you this and I don’t mean to offend you but I’m speaking on behalf of the sisterhood here, you need to let her go so she can find someone who feels about her the way she feels about you.”

I held his eyes before he closed his and turned his head away.

Crap.

Well, I was out there so I might as well finish it.

“Levi,” I called, waited a moment then his eyes came back to me. “Again, speaking for the sisterhood, if you gave all that devotion and loyalty to a woman and she was a good woman, I swear, honey, you will live every day for the rest of your life until your dying breath never regretting it.”

Brock’s arm got super tight, curling me partially into his front while Levi held my gaze.

When he didn’t speak, I whispered, “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place.”

“No,” Levi finally spoke. “You’re wrong. Any member of this family has a right to say what they gotta say.”

My lips parted, my belly warmed and I melted into Brock.

“Brother,” Brock murmured and Levi looked to him.

Then he pulled in breath through his nose.

Then he remarked, “It’s good you didn’t piss off your little minx, would suck, Christmas getting cancelled.”

I grinned.

“She wouldn’t do it. Longest Tess has been able to remain pissed at me is five minutes and that was when I came back after she thought I played her when I worked her for the DEA,”

Brock shared.

“Bodes well for you, Slim,” Levi returned.

“Fuck yeah,” Brock muttered.

Oh for goodness sakes.

I cut in, asking Levi, “Are you staying for breakfast with the boys or what?”

He looked at me. “What are you making?”

“French toast with caramelized cinnamon apples.”

Levi did another slow blink.

“Brock loves it,” I informed him when he made no response and continued to stare at me with unconcealed disbelief.

“Uh… yeah. He would,” Levi stated then he looked to Brock. “She cook like this all the time?”

“Man, she owns a bakery,” Brock answered.

Levi looked at me. “I’m stayin’.”

“Good,” I muttered and pulled away from Brock, ordering, “Honey, go wake the boys. I’ll start breakfast. The Christmas trees aren’t going to march in our houses by themselves and we need to get there early. There’s always a rush the weekend after Thanksgiving and we need two good trees.”

“She always bossy?” Levi asked as I turned to the coffeepot.

“No, she’s usually always sweet but Christmas does shit to people,” Brock’s departing voice replied.

I yanked out the coffeepot, turned to Levi and rolled my eyes.

He took that in and, sounding just like his brother and nearly as beautiful as when Brock did it, he burst out laughing.

Nearly two weeks later…

I parked behind Brock’s brand new, huge, dark blue GMC, turned off the ignition, exited my car and headed to the trunk, shivering the minute my body left my warm vehicle and hit the arctic air.

It was Denver. Tomorrow, it could be sixty degrees even in December. But that night it was freezing and the air felt like snow, not to mention the forecast said we were going to get a dump.

Good for the mountains and ski resorts, bad for Tessa O’Hara.

I loved snow, playing in it, looking at it, making hot cocoa and reading a book while it was falling outside.

Driving through it… not so much.

I opened the trunk and grabbed the handles of the plethora of parcels in the back, carefully arranging the bags in my grip, bags made awkward due to the copious rolls of Christmas wrap poking out.

I had a weakness for Christmas wrap. In fact, I had a weakness for any kind of wrap including bows and ribbons. I gave into this weakness often so I had an entire closet at my house dedicated to wrapping paper and all its accoutrement.

No joke.

Juggling bags while avoiding poking myself with rolls of paper, I slammed the trunk using my elbow and headed to Brock’s patio.

When my eyes went there, my brows drew together.

There was a Harley outside the gate. It wasn’t Brock’s. It was a Dyna Glide. And anyway, when not in use, Brock kept his Fat Boy on the patio under a sturdy, custom-made cover.

Hmm. It appeared Brock had company.

Still juggling bags, I maneuvered myself through the high, wood patio gate then through the storm door and front door.

Before I could call a word of greeting, I heard Brock say low, “Tess.”

I knew instantly he wasn’t greeting me. It was a warning to halt conversation.

Oh man.

“Hey!” I called, shut the door and walked into the living room, eyes to the right.

Then I saw them. A Hispanic man and a Native American man on the stools in front of Brock’s bar, Brock standing in the kitchen behind the bar.

My first thought, seeing as I was female and these thoughts usually took precedence above all others, was these guys were hot. Not hot, per say, if you were talking the average sense of the word. Hot in the Brock sense of the word which was to say mouth-watering, off-the-scales hot.

My second thought was they not only shared hotness quotients with Brock, but both of them in different ways also had the wild man, dangerous man aura.