Home > Tall, Tatted and Tempting (The Reed Brothers #1)(14)

Tall, Tatted and Tempting (The Reed Brothers #1)(14)
Author: Tammy Falkner

I want to ask her about cleaning the kitchen and tell her thank you, but I can’t use my voice in front of my brothers.

“She cleaned the bathroom, too,” Sam says as he comes around the corner. His hair is wet and he leans toward me. “Do I smell too much like a girl?” he asks. He looks slightly abashedly at Kit. “I used your shampoo. And your soap.”

Paul shoves him in the shoulder. “He would have used your tampons if you’d left any in there.”

Her face colors prettily.

“Stay out of her stuff, dickwad,” Paul warns.

Paul adjusts his jeans. “She folded my jeans. It doesn’t feel quite right wearing something that wasn’t rolled up in a ball in the basket in the corner of the room.”

I glare at her. She did all this while we were sleeping? I want to tell her she doesn’t have to work to stay here.

“What?” she asks. “I couldn’t sleep.”

She was sleeping pretty well in my arms. I don’t want to think about that, because I can’t get over the fact that I liked it as much as I did.

Sam leans over and kisses her on the cheek, just as Pete kisses her other cheek. She scrunches up her face, but she doesn’t slap either of them. “I vote that we let her stay another day,” Pete says. He looks down at her naked legs. Honestly, I’ve seen women at night clubs show a lot more skin than she’s showing. “She’s cute,” he says. Then he grabs a banana off the counter and runs for the door. Sam is right behind him. He closes the door behind him and Sam sticks his head back in. “I second that vote,” Sam says. Then the door slams and they’re gone.

Kit smiles and looks over my shoulder. Matt is up, and he looks like death warmed over. “I third,” he says as he sits down in a chair and puts his face in his hands.

Paul shrugs. “It’s fine with me,” Paul says. “But it’s Logan’s call. It’s his bed.”

Paul leaves to get ready for work. I have to do the same, but I don’t have to go in until eleven. Paul goes early every day because he has to do paperwork.

Kit gets a ginger ale from the fridge and pours it into a glass. She hands it to Matt and he smiles faintly, and says, “Thank you.” She doesn’t say anything back, but she squeezes his shoulder. What’s going on with the two of them? He won’t let us do a damn thing for him, but he’s letting Kit get him something to drink?

She smiles and walks back to the bedroom, taking her coffee with her.

“She’s going to break your f**king heart, man,” Matt warns after she closes the door.

I know. She’s going to break my f**king heart. Because I’ve never wanted anything with anyone the way I want something I can’t even define with her.

Emily

Waking up in his arms was one of the best moments of my life. I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted to stay like that forever. So when he asked me questions about how we came to be tucked into one another, I pretended like I was asleep and rolled over, hoping he would wrap his arm around me. He did. He wrapped his whole body around me. I purposefully chose to turn away so I wouldn’t have to explain. Because I didn’t want to tell him about how I felt him when he got in bed with me. Or how I reached out to touch him in the night, and he let me put my head on his chest.

I didn’t intend to wrap my body around him, but he didn’t seem displeased by it. If the tent in his boxers was any indication, he was very pleased by it.

But even after, he was nothing but respectful about my body.

I come out of his bedroom dressed in my school girl outfit. It’s clean now, so I didn’t mind putting it back on. Aside from the fact that putting it on means I’m leaving his apartment. My bag is over my shoulder and my guitar case is in my hand. No one is there aside from the two of us. Paul went to work an hour ago. And Matt is staying home today, I’m sure. He’s too sick to hold his head up, much less go work with the public. He must be in his room, because Logan is sitting at the table reading the newspaper. He looks up when I walk out of the bedroom, and his face falls.

He makes a gesture with his hands like he’s asking me what.

“I have to go,” I explain. I hold up my guitar. “I have to go to work. And you have to go to work. And I’m sure you don’t want me hanging out while you’re not here. What if I steal something?” I try to laugh it off, but he’s not amused.

“You don’t have to go,” he says. “Stay.” He gets up and comes to stand in front of me.

I hold up the guitar again. “I can’t. I have to work.” I only have thirty two dollars to my name. I can’t find a decent place to stay on that. Not even for a night.

Like he can read my mind, he pulls out his wallet and flips it open. He takes money out of it and tries to press it in my hand. I can’t take his money. “Stay,” he says. He wants me to stay instead of going to busk for change.

I shake my head. It’s hard to explain it to him. I want so badly to stay. But I can’t. I can’t get comfortable anywhere. Because tomorrow, I might have to leave again. “Thank you for letting me sleep here,” I whisper. I know he can’t hear the quality of my voice, but he can still read my lips. He tips my chin up with his forefinger under my jaw so that I look at him. “Thank you,” I repeat.

“Come back tonight?” he asks. He’s holding my hand, his thumb swiping back and forth across the surface of it. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I promise.”

   
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