He pauses and then his eyes search my face. "Did you see any of those oiled up pretty boy truckies bothering my sister? Tell me the truth, Daniels."
I can tell by the way he asked that he doesn't mean me. Whew. I shake my head, carefully keeping my face looking as bland and idiotic as possible. "Not one of them Ell. I promise."
It's true. None of those guys had a chance to flirt with her because I was busy giving her my full court press. They could all tell that I'd staked my claim on Lily and every single one of them know better than to come between me and the pretty girl who is getting all of my attention.
He sighs roughly, then runs his fingers along the fine buzz of his hair. "I don't know what to do about her. She used to be such a good girl, but now...." His voice trails off, but my imagination kicks into overdrive to try to fill in all the missing words of that sentence.
As in, now she's been begging for a man to take her home and teach her about multiple orgasms. Now she can’t get enough of a hot guy making her dreams come true and her panties melt. Or, now she keeps complaining about how masturbation isn't as good as a hot, sweaty night of very sexy times with a well-endowed man named Ken Daniels.
Okay, possibly not that last bit, but a man can dream, can't he?
"Honestly, I don't get what your issue is with her. She was nothing other than professional at the shoot today, and the roomful of half-naked firefighters didn't even phase her." What I don't mention is how sweetly flustered she was with me, how she blushed bright red every time I flirted with her. Because that's my secret to hold onto, and I'm sure as hell not suicidal enough to mention it to her bruiser of a brother.
I'm far too pretty to die today.
I really need to distract him before something on my face tips him off to the very inappropriate thoughts I'm still entertaining about the very pretty Lily. At least until I can get home and entertain those thoughts alone and at some length, preferably in the shower for easier clean up.
"What's going on with the woman in your life? You ready to lock that down yet? Is that why you're here, to ask my advice about getting her to say yes to you?" I steeple my hands and nod seriously at him.
And here's the thing, Elliott and his girlfriend have a very long term off and on relationship. They basically get together whenever they're both single and hate fuck each other for a few months, until they have a big giant fight and call things off again. They'll probably end up married to one another someday, but it's not going to be now, partly because Elliott has told me repeatedly that he doesn’t want to get married. They both like to pretend that it's temporary between them, even though we can all see what's really going on.
His lips pinch into a scowl. "Well genius, it just so happens that things are fine, better than fine. I asked Annabel to move in with me and she said yes."
I swear there's a glitch in the Matrix or something. Because right then, K.T. shows up with new beers for the two of us and this time we're drinking to Elliott and Annabel and love.
Again, horrible. I hate even thinking about the word because if I've learned anything over time, it's that there's no such thing as love in my future. I'm a short term, good time kind of guy. Best dealt with for a week at a time, it seems. Most of the hot chicks in Valentine have gone out with me once or twice, but I don't let anybody get closer than that. In my own way, I’m every bit as shut down as Elliott, maybe worse because I can’t imagine asking someone to move in with me.
Even my best friends, like Elliott and Aaron and Abernathy know me as the good time guy who flirts with every woman I see. The one who's always finding excuses to chat up a pretty girl. The guy with all the jokes.
But what would it be like for someone to know who I really am, underneath all the flirting and this eight pack of abs?
"Well man, I guess congratulations are in order. Is this your way of asking me to be your best man too?" I should feel happier for him, but I swear everyone around me is getting ready to tie the knot and all I'm getting is the brush off. An occasional drink in my face.
Elliott grins at me. "Absolutely not. If I ever get around to tying the knot with Annabel, my sister Lily is going to be the maid of honor at my wedding, and I know your thoughts on the whole best man-maid of honor obligatory hook up. So, no. You're not going anywhere near Lily."
His words sink deep into my gut. I've always thought I was an okay guy, but apparently, I'm the kind of guy that my best friend feels like he has to protect his sister from.
And honestly, he's probably right in this instance. The things I'd like to do to Lily would definitely ruin her for all other men. She'd never recover and settle for some bland schmuck in a skinny tie and pocket protector once I’d had a chance to make her mine.
I shake my head at him slowly. "Isn't that ultimately up to Lily? I feel like she should get a say in the matter." I know better, I really do, but I can't stop myself from saying those words.
He puts his hand out to cut off that thought lingering there in the air between us. "It's definitely not up to her. I'm telling you now. You stay away from my little sister unless you're in a real relationship with her." He cracks his knuckles at me, his eyes glittering with malice. "Because if you touch her or even think about her in the way you do with your little barfly one-night-stand girls, I will end you."
I smile widely at him, all teeth and charm. "I promise. That's not going to be a problem."
Lily
Almost an hour later, I'm back at my place and positively seething. I still haven't had any lunch, and the only thing I've gotten accomplished so far is that I made it home and put my equipment away. I definitely need to have a few angry words with my flakey brother next time I see him. I mean, who does he think he is, coming between me and Daniels? Or me and a delicious hamburger for that matter?
I'm about this close to stomping my way down to Riddles and showing my stupid meathead brother that he has absolutely zero business dictating what I do with my love life and with whom. Probably by shoving my tongue down Ken Daniels' throat.
I mean, that seems like the only reasonable course of action at this point.
I'm certainly not being controlled by, say, an unresolved teenage crush coupled with the recent vision of a certain hot firefighter dressed in some freaking overalls and nothing else. And maybe pouring water on himself while he made some seriously suggestive hip thrusts.
Ken Daniels was definitely trying to kill me.
Like probably actually kill me with his uncontrolled sex appeal. I know I'm not the most experienced girl in town, but the way he moved earlier made everything inside me sit up and take notice. And then give him a standing ovation.
But right when it was getting good between me, the ultra-hot firefighter who was maybe a little bit flirting with me, and the runty little puppy we were obviously destined to adopt, everything went completely haywire. Of course my Neanderthal brother had to show up and cockblock us in the most major show of male ridiculousness since—well, since Daniels poured that water on himself at the photo shoot.
Maybe I should let it go. I know my big hairy oaf of a brother is crazy overprotective, and I've made peace with it over time. He's been the rock of our family ever since our dear Dirtbag Dad left, and he's stood up for me at every single opportunity. But did he have to stand up for me to Daniels and basically threaten him into not flirting with me?