Mine to Hold: Protection Series Book 5, page 4
“Thanks for the offer,” Bryson said before I could say anything. My heart sank, shoulders sagging. “But I’m taking Tinley home. It’s been a long day, and I’m beat.” He tilted his head in the direction he’d said his car waited, those hazel eyes locked on me. “You ready?”
I nodded and stepped toward him. “See you guys tomorrow,” I said as I passed the clearly disappointed group of women. The moment I was close, he pulled me into a side hug, draping a heavy arm over my shoulders. It only took a few steps before my mind caught up to the surprising chain of events. “So, as nice as it is to see you, want to tell me what’s going on and why you’re here outside my work at 3:00 a.m.?”
Please say here to fuck me senseless.
Please say here to fuck me senseless.
“Didn’t your brother call you?”
Hmm. That response wasn’t promising on the fucking-me-senseless hope. I chewed on the corner of my lower lip as I checked my missed call log. Five from Tallon, plus one voice mail.
“It seems that he did.” Pressing the voice mail icon, I hit the speaker button as we continued to walk down the downtown Nashville streets.
“Hey, Tin, it’s your brother.” I snorted at that. He was such an old man sometimes, forgetting that I knew exactly who was calling because duh, his number and name were in my phone. He always acted older than his thirty-seven years. “Listen, I have a favor to ask. Bryson needs a little R&R, and, well, I offered our place.” The toe of my boot hit the sidewalk, causing me to stumble. If it weren’t for Bryson’s hold on my shoulder, I would’ve face-planted. “He’s planning to stay for a few days, maybe a week, depending on a few things. I told him he could stay in my room since I won’t be back for a while yet. Just make sure the fridge is stocked and the place is picked up. You know him, he’s super easy. Oh, and maybe you could introduce him to some of your friends. The fucker needs to get laid.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, the frosty night air slicing through my lungs like razor blades while the hand on my shoulder tightened almost to the point of pain.
“I’m going to kill that dick,” Bryson hissed.
I tried to smile through the pain in my heart at the thought of Bryson with someone else.
“So you’re staying with me. Alone,” I said, avoiding the idea of setting him up with my nonexistent friends. For the first time in a long time, I was thankful for my reclusive nature and poor attitude. If I didn’t have any friends, that meant I didn’t have anyone to set him up with, which meant there would be no sex for Bryson.
Selfish, sure.
Maybe that was another one of my toxic traits.
But the thought of his attention on someone else, that protected and safe feeling his sheer presence offered me directed on someone else, made my heart feel heavy. Beyond sad, like there wasn’t enough air in my lungs.
Bryson stopped and turned, placing a hand on each of my slim shoulders. I tipped my face up to his. Thankfully, my tall height kept me from having to strain to search his gaze.
“If that makes you uncomfortable, I can get a hotel.”
“No,” I rushed out. Closing my eyes, I tried to rein in the roller-coaster emotions racing through me, jumbling my thoughts. “I don’t mind you being there with me. It’s fine.”
“You sure? You seem”—he tilted his head to the side as he searched my face—“tense. Maybe you should have that cigarette after all.”
I couldn’t help my smile. “Yeah, I’m sure. Now come on. We need to find a store that’s open. I have nothing to eat at the apartment.”
“Or….”
“Or?”
“I know of one place that’s your favorite and open at all hours.”
He was too easy to fall for. Not even the boys—and I meant boys, not men—I’d dated in the past remembered my favorite indulgence. Yet here was this man who shouldn’t care but did, because that was Bryson Bennett. Always had been, even to that ice queen of a wife of his who never deserved an ounce of his love.
“Krispy Kreme sounds amazing,” I responded honestly. “And I know the closest one.”
“And probably know every night manager and staff member.”
I shot him a wink and grabbed his elbow, tugging him into a fast walk.
Bryson and donuts.
Just the things I needed to shake off the feeling of unease that had permeated every second of my life these last couple weeks. While he was close, nothing could hurt me.
Physically, at least. My heart, well, that was a whole other issue.
One I’d dwell on after he was gone.
A week with Bryson and only Bryson.
Not sure if this would be heaven or hell for me.
But I was excited to find out.
3
TINLEY
A curse whispered past my lips the moment I pushed open the apartment door, every light in the place already on, just like I left it. The living room was a mess—clothes, blankets, bras, and…. My eyes widened as sheer horror filled me. Turning on my heels, I slammed the door in Bryson’s surprised face before he could get a step inside.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper-yelled as I ran toward the rose-shaped sex toy lying on top of the coffee table. Wrapping my hand around the small device, I drew my arm back and chucked it as hard as I could into my bedroom, only relaxing when it thumped to the floor.
Twisting like the frantic crazy person I was, I scanned the room for anything else that would literally kill me from embarrassment if found by Bryson. Fingers tangled in my long hair, I turned for the door just as a soft knock echoed through the apartment.
A mix of confusion and humor lined his features when I pulled the door open and motioned for him to come inside.
“Everything okay?” he asked. “You almost made me drop the goods here.”
He held up the two boxes of glazed treats. In the other hand, he carried a stuffed duffel, a hanging clothes bag draped over his arm.
“So, old people still have quick reflexes,” I joked as he passed. “Good to know for future reference.”
“I’m not old,” he grumbled, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
Surely, he didn’t believe me. Thirty-seven was not old, even though our age gap was a running joke between the three of us. They’d make fun of technology, and I’d offer to get them a paper menu and run out to the car to get their readers. It was funny, though it didn’t seem to have the same lightness as it had held years prior.
I furrowed my brow, watching as he tossed the two bags onto the couch and meandered toward the kitchen.
“Love the new place,” he said, taking in the large apartment. After setting the boxes on the granite island, he began opening cabinets until he found the one with the plates and pulled out two. “How long have y’all been here?”
“Just a couple months. It’s a big step up from my last place.” I watched in awe as he set a plate and paper towel in front of where I sat on a metal barstool. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that. You’re my guest, remember?”
“And I’m invading your space. It’s the least I can do.” A waft of yummy goodness moved through the apartment when he opened the box and twisted it around to face me, inching it closer with a single finger. “Plus, I’m used to moving nonstop with Victoria.”
“How is that little cutie?” His daughter was adorable. Thankfully, she inherited all of Bryson’s personality and heart, and none of his late wife’s.
“Hell on wheels, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.” His words and soft, adoring smile had a gentle sigh passing my parted lips. Great, I was swooning. Literally swooning.
I needed a distraction from his square, scruff-covered jaw and full, kissable lips with faint smile lines curving around them. His nose was slightly crooked from a critical hit during a football game in college, but somehow it made him look more handsome—ruggedly handsome.
“What?” he said, noticing my overly long stare.
Right. Shit, I was awkward as fuck around him. With other men, I was all sass and confidence, but not Bryson. No, of course I turned back into fifteen-year-old me who couldn’t form coherent sentences the moment he stepped into the room.
Smiling, I snagged a donut from the box and shoved the whole thing between my lips.
His hazel eyes widened, and he shook his head, clearly amused. “Which one is Tallon’s room? I’ll put my stuff away. I’m sure you’re beat and ready to get to bed.”
“Get to bed.” I really wish he wouldn’t say things like that. All I wanted was to respond with a Yes, please. Which was clearly not his intent but more of a statement considering it was almost four.
“The door on the left. I’ll grab you fresh sheets and help you make the bed.” Wrapping my lips around one finger, then another, I sucked off the leftover icing as I followed close behind him, making sure Bryson didn’t accidentally venture into my room. While he set his things down, I shuffled past for the bathroom, where Tallon kept his clean linens. “His bathroom is bigger than mine, which I’m constantly jealous of, but at least we each have our own.”
After grabbing a fresh set of sheets that were perfectly folded—my crazy OCD brother even ironed his sheets before folding them—I went back to the bedroom, finding Bryson staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Beautiful view, right?” When he said nothing in response, I began stripping the bed. “So, Tallon’s voice mail said you need some R&R.” I swallowed, unable to voice the other thing Tallon mentioned Bryson needed. “What were you hoping to do while you’re here?”
Still no response.
Okay… this is odd. Bryson was the fun one, lighthearted, the opposite of my grump-o-lump brother.
“Everything all right?” I asked as I tugged a pillowcase off a firm pillow. “You’re acting strange.”
Turning, he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Are you dancing?”
My stomach dropped. “What?”
“At the bar. Are you a dancer? I know what type of place that is, and I need to know if you’re dancing or not.”
I swallowed, not sure how to read the intensity pouring off him. It felt like more than overprotective brotherly love; it felt possessive.
It felt outstanding.
“No,” I whispered, now hugging the pillow to my chest. “I’m a barback, which… wait, how did you even know where to find me?”
He visibly relaxed, his features morphing back to the same old Bryson I’d always known.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that shift.
“Your brother. When I showed up, you weren’t here, so I called him to find out where I could find you. The bar was the first place I checked. I got there right as you guys closed. One of the security guys told me you were still inside, but he wouldn’t let me in.” His brows slowly rose up his forehead. “Said you were a trouble target and couldn’t risk letting me in to see you. What’s that about?”
I bit my lower lip to hide my smile. “Interesting. I don’t have a clue.”
“Liar,” he said, his smile so wide that faint lines burst from the corners of his eyes.
“It’s just….” I blew out a breath and went back to stripping the bed, this time with Bryson’s help. “You know how since… everything, I’ve been a little overprotective when I see someone in trouble?”
“You mean do I know how you toss yourself headfirst into a confrontation that you probably should mind your own business about? Yes, I know what you’re talking about. It’s why I gave you those self-defense lessons, remember?”
Oh, I remembered. Remembered every touch and the way he’d mold his body around my own to correct my stance. My heart rate kicked up as my core clenched at the memory.
“Well, that’s what they’re referring to. At that type of bar, there’s always some asshole who thinks he has a right to treat the girls like they’re nothing more than a piece of flesh.”
“Tinley….”
I dropped my side of the fitted sheet and held up both hands in surrender. “I never do it intending to finish the fight, I swear.”
He groaned and tipped his face toward the ceiling. “That does not make me feel better.”
“The security there is solid. Those guys look after me.”
“I’m sure they do,” he grumbled, morphing back to grumpy-pants Bryson. Catching himself, he closed his eyes and inhaled deep through his nose. “Do you like it? The job, I mean.”
“It’s a job. Pays the bills until I figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. Plus it’s the only industry that doesn’t bat an eye at my sporadic work history. It’s not fun, but it does the job.”
“What do you mean?”
“Keeps money in my account and my mind and hands busy. The grueling work and long hours are nice. I can’t sit too long or I think.”
He laughed. Playfully, I grabbed the still-folded flat sheet and threw it at his face, which he, of course, caught midair. “And thinking is a bad thing?” he asked.
“When your thoughts are as dark as mine are, yeah.”
His carefree smile fell.
Shit.
I knew not to go there.
Desperate to redirect this conversation, I cleared my throat and motioned for him to fluff out the sheet I’d just thrown at him. Thankfully, he picked up on the hint, even if his features said he wasn’t happy about it.
“Anything in particular you want to do while you’re here?” I asked. “I’m sorry to report that I don’t have any friends to set you up with.” Or any friends at all. “I can show you around during the day, but my boss asked me to pick up extra shifts because of the holiday craziness.”
“Nothing like forced family time to drive people to the bars.”
“There is so much truth in that statement, it’s not funny.”
He shot me a smile. “Honestly, I don’t have any plans. I was just hoping to lie low. Are you sure your boyfriend won’t mind me staying here?”
Boyfriend?
I cocked my head to the side, staring with a blank expression.
His cheeks turned pink. “You mentioned someone the last time I was here.”
“Oh,” I said, realization hitting me. “Huh, excellent memory.” Bryson’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “No, I’m not dating anyone. In fact, I don’t even remember the person I was referring to. That’s how inconsequential that guy was.” I snorted and fluffed the top sheet, flapping it out to spread it evenly across the king-size bed. “Not that any of them have been.”
“Oh?” he asked, keeping his face turned downward as he shoved the edge of the sheet beneath the mattress.
“What about you? Have you started dating again?” It had been over two years since Heather had passed, yet I hadn’t heard Tallon mention anything about Bryson being ready to move on until tonight.
Please say no. Save my heart and say no.
“No.” I blew out a heavy breath, rewarding me with a confused look from Bryson. “Between work and Victoria, I barely have time to sleep. Honestly, I just started feeling ready to even think about dating again. But….”
“But what?” I rolled the navy comforter over the freshly made bed and tossed two pillows toward the headboard before perching on the side, curling a leg onto the mattress.
“A lot has changed since I was last out there, you know.” The mattress jolted with his weight as he sat on the other side, mirroring my position. My heart rate kicked up being this close to him, on a bed—alone. “Heather and I met through work, so even back then, I wasn’t actively searching for someone. It all seems impersonal now.”
“If the end goal is sex, that doesn’t need to be personal, right?”
“I don’t think I could just meet someone one second and then fu… sleep with them the next knowing we’d never see each other again. Even before Heather, I wasn’t that guy.”
“I know,” I said, smiling at his widening eyes. “You’ve been friends with Tallon for a while, Bry. You forget how close the three of us used to be.”
Before her.
He sucked in a breath. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”
I lifted a slim shoulder and turned my attention to my twisting fingers. “Heather”—I flinched saying her name, as if it could summon her from the grave—“wasn’t a fan of me being as close to you as we were.”
“What? Why the hell not?”
Oh sweet, naïve Bryson.
“She’d give me a look that said she didn’t like it when I called you that, so I just stopped. I didn’t want to cause any friction between you two, you know?”
“Why didn’t you say anything if she was making you feel uncomfortable?” His brows dipped, and his lips turned down.
I always knew he had no clue she was a bitch behind his back or that I harbored a massive crush on him from the moment we met. But she knew my innocent little heart was crushing on her man. Oh, she saw right through me with that brilliant brain of hers. I felt terrible not being able to turn off my feelings for the married man who starred in all my fantasies of a happy future, but I couldn’t. Even though I tried. I stayed away from them, stopped coming over when he and Heather would visit Tallon.
I tried. I really tried.
Though seeing him there across the bed from me, looking as good as ever, I realized there was never any hope of me losing these feelings for someone who made me feel good. Not just the butterflies or heat between my thighs that flared with his long looks. No, this man made me feel good about myself. Not damaged or broken or used. Bryson had always given me the confidence to push through the bullshit I was fed to believe.
In Bryson’s eyes, I was Tinley Harper, twenty-seven-year-old goof who loved Krispy Kreme donuts, was obsessed with nineties Gwen Stefani, and was afraid of the dark for more reasons than anyone, even he, knew. To everyone other than Bryson and Tallon, I was Tinley Harper, failed rising ballet star, emotionally damaged, physically beautiful—if you didn’t count my mangled feet—and constant train wreck who needed to be bailed out by her superstar brother on a monthly basis.
Okay, maybe that last one was what I thought about myself since it had become a trend this last year. But when most of my money went to the damn therapist who cost almost a full week’s pay each session, I needed his monetary help and unwavering support. Because I wasn’t giving her up. For the first time since my abduction and everything that followed, I was getting better. Accepting myself, flaws and all.
