Take Me Home (The Heartbreak Brothers 1)

Any smart remarks she might have thought of melted on her tongue.

“Because I couldn’t not agree,” she said quietly. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you arrived back in Hartson’s Creek. And the way you kissed me last night…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I can’t get that out of my mind, either.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the taut skin of his throat. “Yeah,” he said, his voice scratchy. “I’m finding it hard not to think about it, too.” He released his hold on her jaw. “Let’s get out of here before you change your mind.” The engine sprang back to life as he put his foot on the gas.

“Where are we going?” she asked again, a smile curling at her lips.

“Wait and see.”

Chapter Seventeen

She was thinking about kissing him again? Well that made two of them. As he took a left onto the road that wound up to the hills, he couldn’t bite down his smile anymore. Couldn’t stop glancing at her from the corner of his eyes, either. Damn, she looked good. Like one of those cute, take-no-shit girls next door he always sung about but rarely met. When she’d asked him what she was doing sitting next to him in his cab he’d wanted to laugh; because he’d been asking himself exactly the same question about her.

The entrance to their destination was right where he remembered. A broken gate hung at a strange angle from a paint-peeled post, and he maneuvered his truck through the gap with just enough space not to scratch it. Pulling up on the left, he shut off the engine and looked out of the windshield to the view below. The dotted lights of Hartson’s Creek laid out before them.

“You brought us to Jackson’s Ridge?” Maddie asked, her voice lifting with surprise.

“Yeah. Figured we could eat up here without being disturbed.” He climbed out of the cab and walked around to open her door, offering his hand to help her down. When she jumped to the ground, he grabbed the blanket and cooler he’d stowed in the flatbed, still holding her hand as he led her over to the grassy ridge.

“I’ve never been up here before,” she told him. “I didn’t know it had such a beautiful view.”

“I used to come up here with my guitar after arguing with my dad. Once I camped out all night. I caught hell for it from Aunt Gina.” Gray reluctantly let go of Maddie and laid the blanket on the soft grass, placing the cooler on top. “Got grounded for a month I think.”

Maddie grinned. “You were always a rebel.”

Gray couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that what you thought? I actually was a pretty good kid. Didn’t cause too many problems.”

“Oh come on. Everybody used to talk about you and your brothers. How you all ran wild and crazy.” She pulled her lip between her teeth, her face illuminated by the moon. “Remember the time you put whiskey in the communion wine?”

“That wasn’t me. It was Tanner.” Gray raised an eyebrow and opened the cooler, pulling out a bottle. “And talking of drinks, would you like one?”

“Champagne?” Maddie knelt down next to him. “What are we celebrating?”

Gray shrugged. “I finished the plumbing today. Only the roof left to finish and I’ll be done. I figure it’s worth raising a glass to.” He winked. “And it’ll only be one glass for me. I’m driving.” He popped the cork and poured two glasses, handing one to Maddie and raising the other one up.

“To home improvements,” she said with a grin, clinking her glass against his.

“And not flooding my dad’s house.” He took a sip, his gaze catching hers. Everything about her felt fresh and new. Like a wind blowing through the house, clearing out the cobwebs.

“When was the last time you did this?” Maddie asked, running her finger around the rim of her glass.

“Came to Jackson’s Ridge?” he asked. “I don’t know. Ten years ago, maybe longer.”

She looked up at him. “I meant drank champagne. With a woman.”

There was something in her voice. A tone somebody else might have missed. The merest hint of uncertainty that made his chest fill up. “I don’t know. I don’t drink a lot. Not anymore. I did, for a while but…” He took a deep breath. “But it messed with my mind and my music.” It was his turn to feel awkward. He looked up at her, his eyes hooded. He didn’t talk about this. At least not to anybody who wasn’t paid to listen. And yet the need to spill his guts to her pulled at him.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. “You were drunk the other night.”

“Yeah. I was a little.”

“I kind of liked it,” she admitted, staring at him with hooded eyes.

He put his glass down and leaned forward. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you like?”