She paused, then sighed. “Just shaken up.”
Maxx walked in, shutting the door behind him. I didn’t release my hold on Kelly, and he didn’t ask me to. “He’s gone. I got his license plate, and Stefano is calling the cops to tell them. Are you okay, Kelly?”
“Yes.” Her voice was muffled, her face still buried in my shirt.
“That has never happened before. Never fucking happening again.”
I explained how he’d ended up here. “I don’t understand the chip on his shoulder.”
Maxx shook his head. “Over an oil change.”
Kelly eased back. “Maybe there is something else going on in his life and that was the icing on the cake.”
“He still—”
“I know,” she interrupted me.
“You’re too good,” I rasped.
She leaned back into me. “No, I’m not.”
I met Maxx’s concerned gaze. “We’ll be out in a minute.”
He shook his head. “Charly is going to freak out over this.”
“Don’t tell her,” Kelly said, easing back. I let her out of my arms but slid my hand over hers, holding it tight. I felt her spread her fingers, entwining them with mine. I liked feeling our palms melded together.
“Pretty sure she’ll find out. I don’t keep things from her, and if I don’t tell her, she is gonna be riled. And not in a good way.”
Kelly chuckled, some of her tension easing away. “Fine. But make sure she knows I’m fine, Brett was right there, and it’s over. I don’t want to make a big deal about this.”
He lifted his shoulders. “I’ll try, Kelly. It’s Charly. I have zero control over that woman.”
He left, and I glanced down at Kelly.
“Okay, Shutterbug?”
“Yeah.” She straightened her shoulders. “Let’s get back to work.”
“Okay.”
KELLY
I wasn’t surprised to find Brett at my door not long after the garage closed for the night. Charly had already been and gone, upset over what had occurred.
“Brett’s right. No more tows. I was just doing them a favor,” she fretted. “I’m sorry. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you coming for supper?”
“No, I’m tired, and I have to get some prep done for the next couple days. I have lots of pictures to take.”
“Okay. I’ll send something over.”
“I have food. It’s fine.” I hugged her. “Please stop fussing.”
The next knock was Brett, and I was happy to see him. He held a bag in one hand, a pizza box in another.
“Dinner,” he said, handing me the box.
“And the bag?” I asked as I walked to the table, sliding the pizza on top.
“I’m staying.”
I turned. “Staying?”
He opened the kitchen cupboard and grabbed two plates. “After today, I’m not taking any chances.”
“Brett, he was an asshole having a bad day. He left.”
He sat down. “Well, I’m not leaving.”
I sat down, watching him open the pizza box and slide two pieces onto my plate. He met my gaze. “You wanna challenge me on that?”
I hid my smile. “Nope.”
He took a bite of pizza, chewing it, and swallowing. He got up and went to the refrigerator, returning with a couple of sodas. He slid his hand around my neck, tugging back my head and kissing me hard. “Good,” he grunted and sat back down. “Wouldn’t listen anyway.”
I tried not to stare. When I’d first heard about Brett from Charly, she’d described him as the “sweetest, nicest man.” Kind and quiet.
The Brett I knew was all that. He was also a dirty-talking, crazy-good-at-sex alpha who liked to give orgasms as much as he liked having them. He was an incredible kisser. Charming and funny. And now add caring and overprotective to the list?
He was the whole package.
“What?” he said, taking a sip of his soda. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“Oh.” I picked up my slice and took a bite. “You have layers, Mr. Conner.”
He snorted. “Whatever.”
“Sexy. Sweet. Funny. Smart. Charming. A great friend. A good son. An incredible lover. Bossy. Caring. Protective.”
He frowned. “That’s how you see me?”
“Add in amazing and a great belcher, pretty much.”
He chuckled. “Not as good a belcher as my dad.”
“We can’t all be that good. But the rest, you ace.”
He studied me. “I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?
“You saw me that way.”
“How did you think I saw you?”
He bit and chewed, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure you ever saw me past our hookups.”
I dropped my slice, reaching over to grab his hand. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I always saw you.” I swallowed. “I always thought you were incredible. I thought you knew that. It’s me, Brett. I’m the fucked-up one.”
“I don’t think you’re fucked up. Misguided and confused but not fucked up.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered.
“For what?”
I shrugged. “So many things. I leave because it’s all I know. I can’t stay too long anywhere.”
“Are you searching for something, Shutterbug?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you need to figure that out so you can stop running. You may have found what you need already and don’t even know it.”