Deal Makers (Dealing with Love 3)

I nod. “Okay.”

As he shuts the door, I know what I need to do. I’ll give him some space, but then it’s time to break out the big guns.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

DREW

It’s been over two weeks since I last saw Charlee. In person, anyway. She’s definitely made appearances in my dreams—mostly the dirty ones—and I can’t stop flipping through the pictures on my phone. I may or may not have used them on more than one occasion while holding my sausage hostage. We’ve talked a few times, on the phone or through text, but it’s not the same as having her physically next to me. I fucking miss her like crazy but I don’t regret asking for distance. I can’t be around her without touching her, and touching her distracts me from the end game.

But touching her is so much fun! my dick whines.

I know, buddy. I know.

I want to be with Charlee more than anything, but I can’t do that without knowing for certain that she won’t run again if things get tough. I appreciate the fact that she called the firm handling our annulment, asking them to retract it, but I don’t know if that’s enough. Maybe that makes me a moron because I could’ve been sinking into her tight little body this entire time, but I’m trying to not let my dick make decisions for me. We all know what happens when he does.

As I’m heading to my kitchen to round up some dinner, someon

e starts pounding on my door.

“Open up, asshole! I’ve given you enough time to be a mopey fuck.”

Ah, the other half of my problem. I still haven’t talked to Brody but that’s clearly about to change. I’m surprised it took him this long—he’s definitely not known for his patience.

I open the door and immediately head back to my favorite chair. There’s no sense in trying to block his entry—my neighbors would not be pleased if he continued knocking, which is exactly what he’d do.

I prop open my footrest before finally acknowledging him. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not really in the mood to kiss and make up. I’m still not happy about that stunt you pulled.”

He rolls his eyes. “Too bad. I’m not here for me anyway. Get dressed. You can’t wear that.”

I look down at my black t-shirt and jeans. “What the fuck is wrong with what I’m wearing?”

I just now notice what he’s wearing. A dress shirt and slacks is far from his normal weekend attire. If he’s not working, he’s always in a t-shirt and jeans or maybe a pair of shorts.

“Go put something on with a collar and some slacks. A tie wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Why? Who am I trying to impress from my living room? And why the fuck are you so dressed up anyway?”

“We’re going to dinner at my parents’ house. My mom wants us to dress nice.”

I flip him off when he kicks my footrest shut. “Uh...no, we’re not. As much as I love your mom’s cooking, that’s the last place I want to be right now.”

He pulls out his phone. “Do I need to have her drive up here to get you herself? Because, she will and I wouldn’t be surprised if she dragged you out of here by your ear.”

Goddammit. Why is that tiny woman so fucking intimidating?

“Fine. I’ll go change.” I point my finger at him. “But I’m not happy about it.”

He plops down on my couch and smiles in victory. “Smart move.”

Fifteen minutes later, we’re in Brody’s Suburban, heading south on Interstate-5. The fucker wouldn’t even let me drive my own car—he threatened to call his mom again so I gave in. We don’t talk on the thirty minute drive, but the radio fills the silence. Before I know it, we’re pulling into the long driveway that leads to his parents’ abode.

We park right behind my sister’s car with Charlee’s right next to it. I had assumed that Charlee would be here but definitely not Devyn.

What the hell?

“Why is my sister here?”

Brody smiles. “My mom wanted to make it a family affair. Your sister, Riley, and Nate are all here.”