42 Hours (Time for Love 3)

Brock turned the machine back off and wiped his hands on his brother’s discarded shirt. “I got the condo project, and I’d like yo

u to take the lead on it. You up for it?”

“Yeah,” Brady said absently, looking at the lawnmower and shaking his head.

“Great, we can talk about it tomorrow at the office. How about ten?” Brock asked. When Brady nodded his consent, Brock walked over to me and took my hand in his. “See you then.”

“Bye, Brady,” I called over my shoulder as we turned away.

“See ya, Gaby,” he murmured.

I heard the lawnmower start up as we exited the house.

Brock lived on the same street as his brother, so rather than get back in the truck, I grabbed my bag and we walked down the street to his house. As we walked up his sidewalk, I admired the Spanish-style home. Brock and his brothers had grown up in this home, and I loved the fact that Brock still lived there. Some of the furnishings were still his parents’, while others he’d updated over the years.

The first time I’d come over, Brock had told me that the biggest, and his favorite, additions to the house where the kitchen and the pool.

The kitchen was a dream. I wasn’t much of a cook, but my baker’s hands itched to roll dough every time I looked at the marble countertops. Brock was actually a really good cook. His youngest brother, Brendan, was currently going to culinary school, and I’d been lucky enough to be a guinea pig during one of his cooking assignments. He was amazing! He lived with Brock, and was saving his money while he went to school.

“You wanna change in the bathroom and I’ll meet you outside?” Brock asked, leaning down to give me a quick kiss on the nose.

“Sounds good,” I said with a smile. Our relationship hadn’t progressed past the making-out stage. Brock was very understanding, and never tried to push me further than I was ready to go. It’s wasn’t like I was a prude or anything, but I liked to establish an emotional relationship before a physical one. Although, I had to admit, it was getting harder to go home alone at the end of the night.

Once I had my canary-yellow bikini on, I grabbed a towel out of the hall closet and headed outside to meet Brock. When I stepped out onto the patio, I looked around the yard and grinned happily. The pool was a fantasy.

It looked like a grotto, with hidden alcoves and a slide built into rock. There was an adjacent hot tub, and even a swim-up bar. When Brock had started making money with his painting business, this pool had been his first big luxury. His brothers had both been living here at the time, and he’d wanted something that they could enjoy together, and with their friends. By the smile Brock had on his face when he talked about it, I was sure they’d had some pretty wild times here.

I laid my towel down on the lounge chair and grabbed my suntan oil out of my bag. While I was applying the sweet-smelling oil, my thoughts drifted to Scott. I wondered if he’d broken it off with Victoria, or if they were still together. I wondered if he was upset with us, with me, for staging the intervention. I hoped he was okay. I needed to call Shelly to see if Cal had spoken with him.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Brock said softly, pulling me out of my thoughts as he walked up behind me. I turned to appreciate his broad, tanned shoulders and chest, which tapered off to a lean yet muscular stomach. He had a slight smattering of chest hair, which met up with the happy trail that dipped beneath his navy-blue swim trunks.

I got comfortable on my stomach and closed my eyes as his hands coated my skin with the coconut-scented liquid. My body began to buzz with the combination of the contact and the vision of him in his suit that was still flashing in my mind. I let myself be lulled by his touch and had to bite back a groan when he stopped and I heard him settle into the chair next to me.

I bit my lip in frustration and wished I had the confidence to voice my needs to him. On one hand, I wanted him to touch me, and to go further than kisses on the couch, but on the other hand, I wasn’t ready to move past dating and on to something more serious. I wasn’t sure I was ready to commit to Brock, because that would mean I was giving up on the possibility of Scott and me.

Chapter 5 – Scott

I ran my hands over my face as I stood outside of Cal’s door. I’d been working my ass off for the past week and a half. Since I’d broken it off with Victoria, I’d thrown myself into my work and hadn’t really spoken to my friends. I wasn’t avoiding them exactly, I just needed time to think … to regenerate. I needed the escape that work provided.

Because they were probably worried about me, and worried that I was pissed, the guys had made poker night a mandatory event. Cal had said if I didn’t show up, he was going to send TJ to get me. Knowing TJ, I knew that he was stubborn as hell, even more so than me, and he wouldn’t relent until I did what they guys wanted. Not that I was going to turn them down anyway, a night with the guys sounded perfect right now.

Just what I needed.

But, shit, I was exhausted.

I took a deep breath and tried to shake myself awake before opening the door and following the sounds of TJ’s laughter to the back of the house. When I got to the dining room, I stopped and leaned against the doorway, taking in the scene with a grin.

Craig, Cal’s brother, was standing at the head of the dining room table, which had been converted into a poker table, talking excitedly while in his batting stance. He must have been retelling his last big hit, and, as he swung and chattered excitedly, TJ smiled broadly at him, listening intently. Craig was almost as tall as his brother’s six-foot-four-inch frame, with the same dark hair and eyes, and he looked so much like Cal had at eighteen that I sometimes had to do a double take.

Cal was chuckling under his breath as he set out the poker chips and watched his brother and best friend interact.

Yes, this was exactly what I needed.

“You hear anything about scholarships yet?” I asked loudly, causing all eyes to turn to me.

“Hey, Scott,” Craig said in greeting as TJ came around the table to pull me into a quick hug.

“How’re things, brother?” TJ asked as he pulled back to look me in the face. Presumably to make sure I didn’t look like shit.