3 Seconds

  I came out of sleep slowly, taking in my surroundings with a frown.

  I was alone.

  I’d had a few drinks with Brady and we’d discussed many things. Natalie’s situation, Brady joining the academy, and whether or not I should take the job in France, but I’d found myself constantly glancing back at Bronagh, wondering if she was as distracted by me, as I was by her. I wanted to find an excuse to approach her again, maybe invite her for a drink, but after she’d run out of the closet the way she had, I wasn’t confident that I’d be welcome, and that sucked.

  I’d hoped in the back of my head that maybe she’d make the first move and come up to us. I had this whole plan of talking her into leaving with me and sorting through our confusing relationship. But she’d left while my back was turned, and I felt that rejection in the pit of my stomach.

  That was why I was waking up on a Saturday morning, in my empty bed, with nothing to ease my morning wood but my hand.

  I reached for the lotion on my nightstand and pumped it a few times, then slid my hand slowly beneath the loose sheet as I covered my eyes with my other arm. I immediately thought of yesterday’s closet escapade as I gripped my hard cock and coated it with the lotion.

  I groaned slightly as I remembered her unabashedly riding my hand, before I lowered to my knees and tasted her.

  I gave my dick a few hard strokes, before pausing at the head, rubbing my thumb along the slit and squeezing tightly.

  Fuck! The way her pussy had clenched when my beard touched her bare thighs, and the sexy little moans that had come out of her mouth as I dipped my tongue inside and fucked her as I nuzzled her clit with my nose…

  I stroked long and hard again, my hand moving faster and my grip tightening as the memories played vividly in my mind. It wasn’t long before I found my release, visions of Bronagh’s face when she came pushing me over the edge.

  My breath coming out in spurts, I used the sheet to clean my off my stomach and my hand, before tossing it to the floor with the intent of doing laundry later, then laid there for a few minutes as I rode out the pleasure.

  I pushed up into sitting position, flinging my legs over the side of the mattress and taking in my sparse bedroom. If I didn’t take that job in France, it was probably time for me to look into getting some actual furniture.

  I shook my head, still confused as to what I was going to do, when I heard a pounding at the front door.

  “Just a minute,” I shouted down as I rooted around for a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. I grabbed the knit cap off of the post when I got to the bottom of the stairs and threw it over my hair.

  Whoever was at the door was going to have to take me as I was, unbrushed teeth and all … That’s what they deserved for stopping by my place before noon on a Saturday.

  The knocker started going off again, and as I pulled open the door I yelled, “Hold your damn horses…” Then said, “Sorry,” when I saw Shelly standing there with Timmy in her arms and little Sophie holding on to her hand.

  “That’s okay,” Shelly said with a pretty smile. “You didn’t know it was us.”

  I cupped the back of my neck and asked, “What can I do for you guys?” Trying to think back and remember a time when Shelly had ever been to my place, and coming up blank.

  “I need to ask you a big favor,” she said, pushing her way past me, so all I could do was close the door and wait to see what her favor was.

  “Shoot.”

  “Well, it’s embarrassing to say, but an appointment opened up with my female doctor,” she whispered the last two words and her cheeks turned pink, and realization dawned.

  “Oh,” I said stupidly, not really wanting to discuss gynecological appointments with Cal’s wife.

  “Yeah,” Shelly said as she surveyed the disaster that was my apartment. “Um, they’re really hard to come by, and there was this last-minute cancellation … It’s right by here, and I was wondering if you’d mind watching the kids for a little bit for me.”

  I felt immediate relief that she was just asking me to babysit, not take her to that place for her appointment.

  “You know I’d love to help you out, but,” I looked purposefully around the room, “My place isn’t exactly ‘kid friendly’ right now. I’ve been going through a bit of a rough patch since Bronagh and I broke up,” I explained, embarrassed to have Shelly think I lived like this all the time.

  “No worries,” she said, handing me Timmy, who came into my arms without a peep. “I’ll get this sorted out real quick, then get out of your hair and be back before you even miss me.”

  “You don’t have to…” I began, but she was already coming out of the kitchen with a trash bag and gathering up all of my empty boxes and throwing them away.

  I looked down at Timmy, who was showing off his gums, then smiled when I felt Sophie’s little fingers in my hand.

  “Bwenen,” she said sweetly, her little pigtails adding to her charm. “Can we sing?”

  As the oldest of all the kids, Sophie held a special place in my heart, and her love of music only widened that space.

  “Sure thing, Soph. Let me just help your mom…”

  “No need, I’m all done. Let me just run down and get the play set for Timmy,” she said, leaving as quickly as she arrived, causing me to survey the room in shock.

  “Your mommy works fast,” I told Sophie, who was busy trying to pull me toward the chair my guitar was leaning against.

  “I know,” she said with a nod, then dug in her heels and pulled with all her might. “Sing!”

  “Here you go,” Shelly said, re-appearing with the Pack ‘N Play. Before I could blink she had it set up and was rushing out the door with a small smile. “Thanks so much, I won’t be too long, I promise.”

  Before I could say, “No problem,” she was gone.

  I set Timmy down on his tummy in him play set and spread some of the toys around to keep him entertained, then sat down and placed Sophie on my lap.

  “What do you want to play first?” I asked her.

  “Mountain!” she shouted with the exuberance of a two-year-old.

  I started playing, and before I knew it, Shelly was back and ready to take the kids home. I said my goodbyes and shooed off Shelly’s thanks, and was totally honest when I told her I was happy to do it.

  I walked into the kitchen to grab some lunch and grimaced when I saw the dishes in the sink, but before I could get started on them, the doorbell rang.

  “What the hell?” I muttered. I never had this many visitors in one day. Not unannounced at least.

  I swung the door open, surprised to see the petite, long-haired blonde standing there with a toddler on her hip.

  “Hey, Gaby.”

  She flashed a huge smile at me and responded, “Hi, Brendan, I hope we aren’t bothering you…”

  “Of course not,” I said, my voice full of suspicion.

  “I have a huge favor to ask you,” she said sweetly, and when I didn’t answer, she continued, “I was able to get a last-minute dental appointment. I have this cavity that’s been bothering me for weeks … and I just couldn’t pass it up. You would be a sweetheart and watch Emma for me for a little while?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, but she kept her expression bright and innocent.

  “Sure, I was just about to make myself some eggs, did she eat yet?” I turned and walked back toward the kitchen, sure that Gaby would be following right behind me. “As you can see, it’s kind of a mess though … I’ve been going through a pretty rough time.”

  I was laying it on a little thick, but I figured if the girls were going to try and pull one over on me, I might as well get something out of it as well.

  “Oh, let me take care of those real quick,” Gaby said when she saw the messy counters and dirty pile of dishes in the sink, just like I knew she would. She handed Emma to me, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.

  As a baker, Gaby was no stranger to the kitchen, and I’m sure the state that mine was cu
rrently in was enough to give her hives. I usually kept my cooking space spotless, but I hadn’t been able to make myself care about much of anything over the last few days.

  It was time for me to get over this funk. It was embarrassing.

  Gaby had the kitchen cleaned up in no time and left for her “appointment,” leaving me and Emma to scrounge together some late lunch.

  My favorite thing about Emma was how serious she was. She watched everything, full of curiosity, taking it all in as if she was storing the information for later.

  I placed her on my hip as I cracked eggs into a large bowl. Emma watched as I whisked, and when the eggs were just about ready, I handed it to her and let her attempt to stir the way she’d seen me do it.

  I chuckled when some eggs spilled over the side, and was rewarded with a tiny giggle from the little girl.

  I was careful not to spice them up too much, in order to please the little one’s palate, but had to add a little bit of pepper, salt, and garlic, to give them a little punch. Then I added some shredded sharp cheddar and poured them into the heated skillet, the sizzle of eggs meeting the pan causing Emma to clap her hands.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  She nodded silently.

  I put some toast in the toaster, figuring I’d throw my eggs between two slices and have a sandwich.

  Once our food was done and plates were made, I realized I didn’t have a high chair, so I put both plates at my spot and sat with Emma on my lap.

  She looked at the fork, then the eggs, then up at me, before gingerly reaching out and picking up a piece of scrambled egg with her fingers, and looking at me again.

  “Go for it,” I said, giving her permission to eat with her hands. As long as she ate, I didn’t care how she did it.

  I felt like a king when she finished the small portion I’d put in front of her, and after I awkwardly finished off the last of my sandwich, I lifted her and walked out to settle on the couch. I’d just turned the TV on when her eyes began to droop.

  By the time Gaby came back, Emma and I were both dozing on the couch, and when they left, I figured I’d lay back down and catch a nap before my show that night.

  As soon as I closed my eyes, I heard a knock at the door.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

  I heaved myself up off of the couch and stomped to the door, sure I was going to find Victoria and Dec on the other side.

  Instead, when the door swung wide, I was surprised to see Sasha standing there.

  “Let me guess,” I said sarcastically, “you were able to get an appointment with a plastic surgeon, and you need me to watch TJ.”

  Sasha grinned, ignoring my bad mood as she pushed past me.

  “I’ve never been here before,” she said, looking around with her realtor’s eye. “It’s a cool spot.”

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to make my tone more pleasant, even though I was kind of annoyed with the women in my life. “What can I do for you, Sasha?”

  Her heels tapped against my wood floor as she spun slowly, taking it all in before stopping in front of me.

  “I wanted in on the fun,” she said with a half shrug, still grinning.

  “What fun? Getting me to babysit in exchange for you guys stopping by to clean my house and make sure I’m okay?”

  Sasha lifted her eyebrow and folded her arms. “Is that what you got out of what happened today? I mean, yeah, we want to make sure you’re okay, and don’t want to think of you living in a pit of your own making, but that’s not what caused the rallying of the troops today.”

  Confused, I leaned my hip against the wall and asked, “Then what was it?”

  “We want to make sure that you are making an informed decision, before you screw up your life and ruin you chance with an amazing woman.”

  Suddenly, it all clicked.

  “The kids…”

  “Yeah, the kids,” she replied, punching me lightly in the arm before turning to go and sit in the chair. “Look, Bren, I know all about not wanting to have kids. TJ and I both agreed before we got serious, that kids just weren’t in the cards for either of us … The way we were raised, the parents we had…” She shook her head sadly, and I wondered briefly what she was thinking about, then her face cleared and she brought her brilliant green eyes to mine. “It’s one-hundred percent your decision to make, but when Victoria told us why you and Bronagh broke up, I have to admit, we were all stunned. You’re a kid magnet. They’re drawn to your creative spirit and outgoing personality. We all always imagined you’d be crawling with them once you finally got done whoring and settled down.”

  “Whoring, huh?” I asked with a smirk.

  “Just calling ‘em like I see ‘em,” Sasha said, detailing one of the things I loved most about her.

  “We just want you to be sure … So Shelly concocted the surprise babysitting idea, to show you how much the kids love you, and maybe give you something to think about before you make any rash decisions.”

  “Brady let it spill about France, didn’t he?” I asked when I realized what she was talking about.

  “He may have said something to your brother last night. Who told Victoria, who told the girls and I over mimosas this morning,” Sasha admitted.

  “Can the man keep anything to himself?” I muttered, frustrated that Brady kept diming me out about everything, but kept his secrets close to the vest. “I’m gonna have to get some payback,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.

  “If you’re talking about the police academy, he told Brock all about it last night too.”

  “Really?” I asked, surprised he was actually going to go through with it.

  Sasha nodded, then rose to her feet.

  “That’s it?” I asked jokingly. “You aren’t going to do my laundry or something?”

  Sasha laughed sharply and said saucily, “Oh, honey, I think you know better than that.” Then she, no shit, strutted to the door, before turning and saying, “Just think about it,” before walking out and closing the door behind me.

  I looked at the clock, and realized I didn’t have time to do anything but get my ass to Jake’s. I grabbed the sheet music I’d been working on, eager to show the finished products to Brock and Brady and get their thoughts on them.

  I was about to run out the door when I looked down and realized I was still in basketball shorts, so I turned on my heel and ran up the stairs in search of an outfit more conducive to my rock star image.

  Chapter Twenty-Six ~ Bronagh

  I’d gone home alone last night, even though I’d wanted more than anything to stop by Brendan’s table and see if he wanted to come over.

  Just to talk.

  Oh, who was I kidding? Yes, we needed to talk, but I also wanted to take him home and jump his bones. I was a weak, weak woman, driven by the memory of a scruffy beard and fantastic orgasms.

  Luckily, Ming was more levelheaded, and had ushered me out of the bar before I could make another mistake and end up hurting Brendan further, by having sex with him again.

  That was why I’d spent the night with my trusty vibrator, rather than in the arms of the hot young man who should be totally off limits to me.

  Although, if he was off limits, what was I doing at Jakes, essentially hiding behind a gaggle of bimbos?

  I’d talked myself out of coming a million times throughout the day, but by ten o’clock, I was grabbing my purse and heading out the door.

  I just had to see him.

  I’d been so sure when I told him we couldn’t be together anymore. It was simple logic. I wanted kids, he didn’t. End of story. But after my talks with Ming and Cass, then Brady, I was no longer sure … Add the encounter with Brendan in the closet, and it was obvious that although my brain wanted to be done with the relationship, my heart had other ideas. And my body … well, let’s just say that it was all the way #teambrendan.

  Maybe I’d been too quick to end things.

  I hadn’t expected it to be this hard. When
I’d left Maxime, I’d been absolutely sure that I was making the right decision, and had no regrets, or feelings of loss.

  But with Brendan … I wasn’t finding it as easy to let go.

  I’d been thinking hard about what Brady said, and he did have a point. On the other hand, I wasn’t ready to dismiss my dream of having children.

  I was at an impasse, and I didn’t know what the right answer was; all I knew was that I had a burning need to be with Brendan.

  If we had the opportunity to hash things out, not in the heat of passion or anger, but as two logical adults, I was hopeful that we could come to a compromise.

  And if not, at least I’d know that I’d done everything I could to make it work, and be able to move on with my life. As much as the thought of actually letting him go hurt, I couldn’t go on living in turmoil.

  “This will be our last song of the night,” Brendan was saying from center stage. “Thanks so much for comin’ out.”

  God, he looked good.

  He still hadn’t shaved, and his hair was pulled back in a messy bun. That, combined with black skinny jeans, combat boots, and an army-green jacket thrown over a black T-shirt, completed the badass, sexy-as-hell, lead-singer package.

  I wasn’t alone in my admiration … The girls in the audience seemed extra worked up tonight, and I could only imagine it was the short beard he was sporting. It wasn’t quite as full and “lumberjack” as his brother’s, but it definitely turned his masculinity up a notch. Then when you added the man-bun … instant horniness.

  I sipped a cold beer as I watched from my clandestine position, smiling when the set was over and the three brothers gave each other that half high-five, half hand clap, thing. This time though, rather than heading toward the back door, Brock and Brady followed Brendan down the stairs and followed him to the bar.

  They smiled and thanked the throng of groupies that were crowding them, but once they had their drinks in hand, they maneuvered through the crowd to an open table.

  I was close enough to hear Brock say, “To my little brother … I know he’ll ‘Protect and Serve’ with the best of them.” They all raised their glasses and put them together, before Brock clapped Brady on the shoulder and said huskily, “So proud of you, bro.”