Rough Love (Tannen Boys 1)

There’s no awkwardness now, something I didn’t even realize I was nervous about. We just roll right back into talking, relaxed and easy like we used to, as I trace swirling lines along her back. The stars twinkle, the night chills, and we just curl up into each other.

Bobby writes songs about moments like this, I realize. This sense of hopefulness, of the start of something greater, of love.

But I bite back any words about that, not wanting to scare her. She asked me to fuck her. She didn’t ask me to love her. I do, but she’s not ready. Two steps forward, though, I’ll take.

Chapter 22

Allyson

“I feel like when we were kids and I’d drop you off after a date, praying that your parents didn’t answer the door. I knew if they saw my shit-eating grin, they’d know exactly what I’d been doing with their sweet little girl.”

The nostalgia turns into something sexier as he does a slow perusal, hot and hungry, down my body before smirking like he can see right through to what’s underneath.

“But now, instead of getting caught by your folks, I’m checking the windows to see if Cooper’s looking out.” Bruce chuckles but leans forward to look through the windshield, scanning every window. “No movement in the blinds. Looks like we’re in the clear.”

Tonight has been amazing. More than amazing, I correct myself. I knew I was going to go out with Bruce and we’d end up fighting or fucking. We definitely fucked, but it was something bigger than a cheap thrill and we both know that.

He patiently let me unpack one of my boxes of demons, listening thoughtfully and without judgement, and that meant more to me than he’ll ever know. He made me feel not just okay, but . . . worthy. And letting me set the pace was something I hadn’t even known I needed, but he did.

He’s still watching me for the clues. He’s been nothing but transparent about what he wants, but still, he lets me lead. To me, that shows just how strong and good Bruce is, all the way to his core, and how much faith he has in me to know my own heart and find my own way. I know he hopes I find my way back to him, but I think he’d understand if I truly wanted to go a different way. It’d hurt him, no doubt about that, but I think he was being brutally honest when he said he just wants me to be happy.

I want that too.

“Cooper’s not home tonight. Michelle said he could sleep over at her house just in case . . . you know.” I blush even though there’s no reason to. I’m a grown woman who wants to have sex with a man who wants me. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not sure if I’m telling myself or society at large that single mothers can be sexual creatures with wants, needs, and desires beyond their kids, and that it’s not only okay, it’s damn healthy. My old therapist and my currently throbbing pussy say so.

I don’t examine my words, just let them come freely and wildly. “Want to come in?”

“Fuck yes,” Bruce rumbles before getting out of the truck and damn near high-stepping to get around to my side. Instead of helping me down, he turns and gives me his back. “Get on.”

I laugh, thinking he’s kidding. “I am almost thirty years old and a mother. I do not do piggyback rides unless I’m the one giving them, and Cooper’s been too big for that for years now. I’m also too big for you to carry me like that.” I try to hop down from his stupidly jacked-up truck, but his broad back is blocking me.

He looks over his shoulder. “You ain’t got your sandals on, and I could carry you one-armed. We can do that instead, if you’d rather? Want me to throw you over my shoulder, smack your ass on the way to the house? Might be harder to unlock the door if you’re hanging upside down, though.” He shrugs like he doesn’t care because he’s winning this battle of wills either way.

He paints a rather specific and sexy image. And while I might be all on-board with dating as a single parent, having Bruce carry me caveman style might be a little beyond the pale. I can only guess at the gossip if word got out about that.

Reading my face in the light coming from the porch, he grins like he won. “Piggyback it is. Hop on.” Guess he is winning, because damned if I don’t do it.

I push the truck door closed, and somehow, he beeps the alarm without my feeling wobbly at all. He’s got me secure, his strong hands locked under my thighs, which are spread around his waist. I’ve got my heels in one hand and my key in the other, both arms resting over his shoulders.