Rough Edge (Tannen Boys 2)

I can see why he loves this life—a bit of wild, a heap of responsibility, some peace and quiet, and a family that feels the same way about the dirt that you do. I’ve learned more about Brody today than in all our weeks before. Or maybe now, in addition to knowing what makes him laugh and where his favorite place for me to nibble is, I also know his heart and soul. I think he’s known mine all along, but I’m finally catching up. And yeah, I get the irony that the race car driver is the last one to get anywhere, but I’m here now and that’s what matters.

He shows me how to approach them carefully and scratch behind their ears, and after a few minutes of easy, comfortable silence, it feels like we’ve been reset. Not like I didn’t fuck everything up, but maybe that because I did, things are actually better than before.

“Can I show you one more thing?” Brody asks, his voice deep and rough and his fingers playing with the end of my ponytail.

“Anything,” I answer. The scariest part of all is that I absolutely mean it.

Chapter 21

Brody

“Third door on the right,” I tell the fabulous view as Erica goes up the stairs. That my mind is distracted is a testament to how important today has been because her ass is begging for my tongue and her thighs are pleading for my fingertips.

She whispers, “Why does it feel like I’m not supposed to be here? Like we’re doing something wrong?” She sounds more than a little intrigued at the idea, which doesn’t surprise me about her in the least.

“Because you’re going into my childhood bedroom to fuck. Luckily for you, I just took down my WWE posters last week.” She glances back, brows raised in question. I smack her ass in pseudo-punishment. “Kidding. I seem like a fake wrestling sort to you?”

She smirks. “Abso-fucking-lutely, you do, Cowboy.” She drawls out the ‘cowboy’ in a fake accent that’d make John Wayne cringe.

I asked for that one, so I go ahead and give her the grin she earned and the grunt she’s expecting.

She opens the door, and I watch her, knowing exactly what she’s seeing. A full-sized bed in the corner, unmade, of course, because I don’t see the point when I’m getting back in it tonight, a nightstand with the latest John Grisham book laid open to save my place, a basket of clean clothes sitting right next to a pile of dirty ones, and a chest of drawers where all the clean clothes should be.

“Very bachelor pad-ish,” she says. I can tell the unmade bed is driving her nuts. She basically makes hers the second she gets out of it, a military habit holdover, she’s told me. Suddenly, she gasps. “You are a fucking monster!” She picks up the book from my nightstand, waving it around in offense. “Use a bookmark, for fuck’s sake!”

I shrug, not caring in the slightest. “It’s my book. I’ll crease the spine if I want to.”

She looks horrified, so I make a show of grabbing a condom packet out of the top drawer, placing it inside the book, and closing it with a sarcastically affectionate pat. I set it back on the nightstand, hugely implying ‘you happy?’ She smirks and wanders over to the chest of drawers, looking at a picture of my family, all six of us.

“I think I was around fifteen then, in high school for sure. Brutal must’ve been around thirteen, because that was one of the last times I was taller than him. He shot up that summer, passed us all, even Dad.”

“You look happy. You all look happy.” She touches the easy smile on my teenage face in the picture. There are flashes of this boy inside me still, but the man is more hardened and cynical from what I’ve gone through between that camera flash and now.

“We were. We are. It was just the in-between that was hard, but we’re all good now. Truly. And one day, we’ll be even better. I didn’t show you today, but over the hill to the west, Brutal is building a house for him and Allyson and Cooper. And Bobby lets us all come listen to him perform at Hank’s now, something he never did before. He’s gonna be on the radio one day, I just know it. And Shay is happy with someone who wants her to live the life that she wants and deserves.”

“You said everyone but you. What about Brody Tannen? Is he happy?” she asks softly, setting the picture back down and turning to face me fully.

“Yeah, Erica. I am happy. And I’m gonna carpe the shit out of this diem like it’s all we get.” I pick her up, and her legs go around my waist naturally.