“Only some? You wound me, woman.” He clutches his chest, showing off the outline of an impressive pec.
“I take it you’re a lifer?”
“Born and raised.”
“Well.” I offer him an outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Audria.”
His loud whistle turns more than a few heads. “I should’ve known the fancy lady has a name to match. Reeve Colton, at your service.”
I raise a brow at that. “It’s a pleasure.”
A low sound rumbles from the depths of him. “I would hope so after you rammed into me.”
“Oh, please. It was a light tap at worst.”
Read their story today!
Want more of Brance Stone? He’s from my bestselling novel, Ask Me Why. His little boy, Ollie, is a fan favorite. Here’s an excerpt where Brance and Braelyn meet for the first time, buffered by little Ollie.
As if hearing my silent plea, the door swings open. The bell calls out, and a familiar little figure zooms inside. I peer around the display case that’s obstructing my view. Ollie sends me a beaming smile and my hunger pains are instantly forgotten.
Oh, this kid is going to break so many hearts when he’s older.
“Hi, Miss Braelyn.” Ollie strides up to me like we’re the best of pals. Maybe we already are.
My depleted energy seems to spring back. I give him a wave. “Hey, Ollie. Glad to see you again.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
I shake my head. “Nonsense. You’re right on time. Is Mary with you?”
His forehead creases. “Uh, no. She went home. We would’ve been here sooner, but my dad was working.” Ollie hitches a small thumb over his shoulder.
That’s when the door opens with a bang. A tall man stomps in with the power of a hurricane. Is the ground shaking? If it is, I barely notice.
Holy. Hotness.
Who ordered the sex in a suit?
The guy’s laser focus is on the boy beside me so he doesn’t notice my slack jaw. He’s tall, but not overly bulky. His thick hair is styled in a messy sort of way, and I want to smooth the unruly flyaways. A five-o’clock shadow dusts his jaw, the first signs of stubble barely visible. The contrast between his light eyes and dark features is hypnotic. An impeccable suit covers his broad frame, cut to fit his wide shoulders and trim waist perfectly. He could easily sell this look. Hell, after one glance I’m ready to buy it off him.
He’s fucking lickable.
“Ollie, I told you to wait. Selective listening isn’t cute anymore. Why do you insist on running ahead of me?” The stranger’s boom ricochets around us.
I blink, and the haze evaporates. What the actual eff was that? I look down at the child in question and wait for him to answer. He’s squirming all about. Ollie barely gives his father a second glance, too busy studying the assortment of candy on display. But no worries. I’m giving this man more attention than he needs anyway. I can hardly take my peepers off him.
Ollie lingers for another beat, then quickly dashes to the taffy bins. I see him move from one to the next in my peripheral vision.
“Need a camera?”
I startle at the harsh growl. “Huh?”
“Then you can take a picture.” His frosty blue eyes narrow on me, and I’m frozen in place.
“Excuse me?” Why is my voice so breathy?
“It’ll last longer.” He raises a dark brow.
Clarity seeps into my stupor, and the urge to tuck tail streaks through me. But I don’t. I raise my chin and openly appraise him. “I like your suit.”
“It’s custom fit.”
“Looks that way.”
He crosses his arms and stands straighter. “You’re not my type, taffy girl.”
I fight the urge to scratch my temple, being stumped again. “Okay?”
“Stare all you want. It’ll get you nowhere.” He points between us. “Never gonna happen.”
For a moment, all I can do is gape at him. I feel my face go up in flames. Is he for freaking real?
“I w-wasn’t… no, I didn’t mean,” I sputter. “I’m not hitting on you.”
His smirk is devilish. “Save it for the judge, sugar. I get it.”
Before I can defend myself, Ollie zips toward us and smiles at me. “Do you like my dad?”
Everything inside of me skids to a stop. I pop my mouth open, but nothing comes out. My throat is a tight fist, and swallowing is a challenge. How the hell do I respond to that?
I tug at the collar of my shirt. “Uh, well, we haven’t really met. I don’t even know his name.”
Ollie’s gaze bounces between us. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Nope.” There’s no hesitation. Throwing this cocky dick under the bus is an easy decision.
The ass glares at me. “We didn’t get that far.”
Ollie shakes a finger at his dad. “That’s not polite. You’re supposed to do introductions first. That’s what you taught me.”
He remains silent, thoroughly scolded by a child. Ollie huffs loudly. I lift a hand to cover my growing smile. Something tells me this imposing man wouldn’t appreciate my humor.
“Brance Stone,” he finally offers. A weaker woman might wither under that icy stare. Too bad for him, I’m all out of shits to give.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Braelyn Miller.” I plaster on an extra wide grin for good measure.
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Likewise.”
I turn my attention to the one who deserves it. “You have very nice manners, little guy.”
“Thank you!” Pure sunshine beams off Ollie. He gives my mood an instant boost, unlike the grumbling grouch looming in front of me.
“Daddy?” Ollie tugs on Brance’s sleeve. “Can I go play?”
“Sure,” he answers without taking his eyes off me.
Ollie doesn’t recognize the suffocating tension in the room and runs off toward the toy aisle.
Brance calmly loosens the knot of his tie. He oozes confidence and swagger. I can tell this man is used to calling the shots. But this is my store.
“So, Braelyn,” he spits my name like a curse, “what sort of game are you playing?”
I twist my lips. “Um, not sure what you mean?”
“There’s no point trying to fuck with me. I know your type.”
I don’t bother asking why he has a massive chip on his shoulder. This guy is clearly pissed at the world, or me specifically. Even if I scrounge up a useful question, the chances of him answering honestly seem slim.
Might as well have a bit of fun.
“A small business owner trying to make a living?” I tack on a cheesy smile, just for kicks.
He makes a show of appraising my store with thinly veiled disgust. “What the fuck kind of name is Thicket?”
I keep my expression flat, refusing to give him a reaction. “It’s a place to get lost in. An escape from reality. Somewhere to be free.”
Brance clucks his tongue. “And you sell what exactly?”
“A little of everything. Odds, ends, and everything in between.”
“Sounds stupid.”
In this moment, I’m yanked from my grey bleakness. The numbness that’s been cloaking me for years falls to the floor. A fire burns in my belly and I glare at him. I take pride in being even tempered, but everyone has their limits. This guy is making me lose my cool. Quite literally.