“Yeah. Still though, this is a big deal.” Shane moved his hand like he might be about to pat Brandt, but then returned it to his side.
“No kidding.” Damn. Brandt was being an ass simply to cover how rattled he was. He shifted the baby to his other hand and took a big breath. “Sorry. I’m...”
“Processing. I get it. And I know things are weird between us right now, but I’m not dumping Jewel on you and running.”
“Appreciated.” Then because that sounded a bit short, he dropped his voice. “I...need the help.”
And he did. No way could he do this on his own. Swallowing his pride was tough, but he had to admit he needed Shane. He was damn fortunate that Shane was such a stand-up guy and not rushing to get back on the road.
“I’m gonna do my best.” Shane’s tone was solemn, and Brandt didn’t trust many promises, but he believed Shane that he wasn’t about to bolt. Shane looked away, like he was uncertain about where they went from there, but then he pointed at the window of the little coffee shop they’d stopped in front of. “Hey, what’s that?”
A flier advertising an open mike night Friday hung near the door inviting local acoustic musicians to sign up for a slot.
“I think the coffeehouse does it every so often.” Brandt seldom made it to Painter’s Ridge’s small downtown, but the place had good muffins. “You should go tomorrow, get out. Assuming there’s no callout, I should be back in time and can watch the diva while you go.”
“You sure?” Shane’s eagerness was more than a little cute, like Brandt confronted with a chance for some unexpected airtime. He kept glancing at the flier, like it might evaporate before he got a chance to sing.
“At least one of us should get a Friday night. Go on, go put your name down. I’ll hold the bags.” He held out his free hand. Shane transferred the bags, then hurried into the place. He was back a few minutes later with two steaming cups.
“Okay. I got signed up. Figured I owed them a purchase, so I got you a sweet, black Americano. That close enough to your usual?”
“Yep.” Brandt’s chest was strangely tight as they made their way to the car. He wasn’t used to others thinking of him, that was for sure. Wasn’t sure he liked it. Or rather, he might like it too much. Frowning, he tossed Shane his keys. “Here, you drive, so you can see how to get back to town.”
“Sounds good.” Shane waited while Brandt clicked the car seat into the holder. This working together thing was like the coffee, almost too good, too easy to get used to. But it was nice to be settling back into companionableness after the morning’s initial awkwardness.
“You know, things don’t have to be weird,” he said as he slid into the passenger seat.
Shane said nothing aloud, but his pointed look could have written a term paper on all the ways that Brandt was wrong.
“We made it work just now,” he pointed out, as he stretched. Speaking of weird, it was bizarre to be on this side of his car. “We’ll be like roommates.”
“You make a habit of playing tonsil hockey with roommates?” Shane’s voice was dry as the local lava rock in August.
“No. I don’t.” Too bad Shane had already backed out of the parking space because Brandt was damn tempted to kiss that judgmental tone away. Hell, he hadn’t even been attracted to a roommate since... Yeah. Not letting his brain hit rewind back to those memories again. But the point remained that he’d shacked up with plenty of buddies and none tempted him like Shane. “And I’m not saying I wouldn’t go there again with you if you wanted, but I need reliable help with the kid more than I need a hookup partner.”
Shane snorted at that. “You might want to check your condom stash before you put yourself back on the hookup market. Just saying.”
“Jesus. Don’t remind me.” Brandt had to groan. But Shane’s joke was also good because it cut the tension. They’d make this work. He’d see to it.
Roommates. It wasn’t the worst idea, even if his body was clamoring for him to kiss Shane senseless again the moment he got the chance.
Chapter Ten
“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Shane snapped his guitar case closed, but he didn’t move toward the door.
“Me. A tiny baby. A couple of hours. How much trouble do you figure we can get into? Think we could make it to the casino at Warm Springs?” Brandt grinned at him. He’d taken a fast shower when he’d come in from work, and his shaggy hair was still damp. Shane wanted to run his fingers through it, get all the tangles out, feel the silky softness against his hand.
“Baby might be better than either of us at blackjack.” Shane tried to joke back, but he ended up pacing over to where Jewel was currently chilling in her swing, the one place they could count on her being happy for longer than three minutes. “I feel bad leaving her because she was fussy all day then napped way longer than usual.”
“Shane.” Brandt came closer than he’d been in days. Too close. He set his strong hands on Shane’s shoulders, but instead of yanking him into a kiss like Shane’s tortured libido wanted, he steered Shane in the direction of the door. “A week plus of baby duty has made you loopy. We’ll be fine. You go have fun. Wait. Is that bad luck? Break a leg.”
Shane couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks. I think break a leg is more for theater, but I’ll take the luck. And okay, I’m going. Thanks for letting me borrow your car again.”
“No problem. You don’t want to park your rig downtown on a Friday night. And text if you’re gonna break curfew, Junior.” Brandt’s laugh was deep, rich, and oh so welcome after the past few days.
Roommates. Shane shook his head on his way to the SUV. The dude seriously thought he could kiss Shane like he had, like the stars might tumble to the ground around them unnoticed, and then declare them capable of platonic coexisting? No way. Shane wasn’t buying it, not when that kiss haunted his every quiet moment. Feeding the baby. Doing dishes. Showering. Breathing. No matter what he was doing, he could still taste Brandt, still feel how solid his shoulders were, still hear his gasps and groans.
Damn it. Move on. Outside, traffic picked up as he approached the more populated parts of Painter’s Ridge, but inside, his head was still a mess. It was just a kiss. He’d had others. But none like that, his brain taunted. And of course, it had to toss in the memory of Brandt saying he’d go there again if Shane wanted. Fuck. He wanted. Lord, did he want.
After he found a parking spot, it was an easy walk to the coffee shop. It was more crowded than it had been the day before, but still a relatively small crowd that spilled out the back of the place to a modest patio with a small stage in the corner. The night was perfect for relaxing outdoors, clear and cool mountain air but not cold, especially with the sun not quite set. It was mainly older couples, but a few families and younger friend groups too. The way the late-teen kids kept jostling each other said that they were there to watch a friend take a turn at the microphone. Remembering those days made him smile.