Take Me Home (The Heartbreak Brothers 1)

“The things you said to me. That you see me. And you always have.”

“I do,” he whispered, reaching out to trace her cheekbone. Her eyelids fluttered at his touch. “I see every single bit of you. And I like it more than I can say.”

Her breath hitched and it made him want to touch her more.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” he whispered, leaning closer. “You’re beautiful, Maddie Clark. And you’re kind. Funny as hell, too. Every time I think of you trying to climb that wall I laugh.”

“Asshole.” She smiled, her cheeks plumping against his fingertips.

“And I have no idea what you’re still doing in Hartson’s Creek, but because I’m a selfish bastard I’m so glad you’re here. I would have gone crazy without you to talk to.”

Her eyes were glassy. She blinked and he could see the clouds forming inside them.

“I can see you’re overthinking this,” he told her as her gaze darkened. “Stop it.”

“I can’t help it. You’re right about one thing, I’m still a small town girl, and you’re not a small town boy.”

“I’m still me, Maddie. You of all people should know that. Just Gray Hartson who spikes the church wine.”

“I thought you said Tanner did it.”

He winked. “So I did.” He took the glass from her hand and set it down beside him, pulling her close until her face was a breath away from his. “Let me show you something,” he said softly, laying her down on the blanket, positioning himself beside her.

“What?” she breathed.

He brushed his thumb against her lips. “Can you feel that?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“What does it feel like?”

Her brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“Close your eyes. Describe the sensation.” He caressed her lips again.

“It feels soft and warm. But strong. Skin against skin with nothing in between.”

“It’s me,” he whispered. “Just me. I’m the same as any other guy. I eat, I sleep, I go to the bathroom.” He laughed. “And I think you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

She sighed, and he felt the warm air on his hand. God, he wanted to kiss her. Wanted to pull her body on top of his and feel every inch of her pressed against him.

He swallowed, trying to push down his insatiable desire. “Touch me,” he said

hoarsely, moving her hand to his face. She feathered her fingertips against his cheek, her thumb brushing his jaw, slowly moving down to his neck.

It was getting hot. Too hot. He pulled his hoodie over his head and threw it on the blanket, his skin immediately cooling as the evening air caressed it.

Maddie ran her finger around the sleeve of his t-shirt, then traced down his bicep, outlining the tattoo etched there.

“When did you get this one?” she asked him.

“That was my first tattoo. I got it on the anniversary of my mom’s death before I drank myself to oblivion.” He looked at her with a wry smile. “I’d only been in LA for a year then.”

“It’s pretty. A dove, right?”

“Yeah. My mom’s favorite bird.”

A smile played at her lips. “How many do you have?”