Page 27 of Tap


  “I do, Tap. Really.” I think he wants this.

  Fucking thankful for our friendship and his trust.

  I’m a fucking mess as I ride up the elevator. I haven’t seen her in over six months. What if she hates me? What if restaurant man is there? Maybe I should have called first.

  Dumbass. Too late for that now. You’re standing in front of her door.

  I tap and wait. I can’t remember ever feeling so damn nauseous in my life.

  Wren opens the door and I immediately know Stout didn’t call when I hear her say my name. “Brou?”

  “Should I have called?” Yes, I should have. I see it in her wide eyes and slack jaw. You’re an idiot for showing up unannounced like this, Broussard. “I’m sorry. I assumed you would be expecting me after the meeting with Savan Cider.”

  “Umm, I was waiting to hear from Ollie about the books. I thought we’d probably schedule a business meeting for tomorrow if things looked promising.” Of course she did. Because that makes sense. Not this—showing up at her door without so much as a courtesy call.

  “A business meeting. Of course.” I need to steer this back between the lines. “But since I’m here, do you want to talk about what I found in the books?”

  Wren looks over her shoulder and then back at me. “Now’s not a great time. I have company.” That’s a no. And fuck me, I think her company is him. Restaurant guy.

  “Lawrence, should I take the risotto off the stove?” I hear a man’s voice call out from the kitchen. Fuck. He’s here with her.

  “Yes, please. Thank you,” she calls back.

  “You’re cooking for him.” Not me. The thought makes me insane with jealousy.

  She makes no reply.

  “You’ve moved on.” Without me.

  She looks over her shoulder again. Making sure he isn’t there to hear her. “Brou. I waited months for you to change your mind. All I wanted was for you to call and say you’d consider the things I want. But you didn’t. And it broke my heart all over again.”

  I’m here now. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”

  “Not too late for what?”

  There he is standing behind her. Hippie restaurant owner. Skinny with curly blond hair in a topknot. “Hey, baby. The risotto is getting sticky.”

  Fuck.

  The.

  Risotto.

  Hearing him call her baby sends me into a red-visioned rage. She’s mine, man bun. Not yours.

  “Lee, this is Lucas Broussard. He’s my brother’s business partner at Lovibond. And possibly mine as well if we buy the cider company.”

  Hippie Lee wipes his hand on a kitchen towel and comes over for a shake. “Hey, man. Good to meet you.”

  There’s no recognition in his eyes. She hasn’t even mentioned me?

  This guy has no idea I’m more than her brother’s business partner. No clue how many times we’ve fucked like animals. Not an inkling that we’re in love. Or at least I thought we were.

  Fuck. Am I really too late?

  “Nice to meet you.”

  His hand is on her lower back. I swear I’ll break it if he doesn’t take it off her in two seconds.

  “Lucas was just leaving so I’m going to walk him to the elevator. Go ahead and plate dinner. I’ll be right back.” I’m being dismissed.

  “You got it, babe.” Again, with babe. Nails down a chalkboard would be less offensive.

  She comes out and closes the door behind us.

  “What time do you want to meet?”

  I don’t want to wait until tomorrow. “Call me when he leaves.” Fuck. What if he spends the night?

  She tilts her head and lifts a brow. “I meant what time do you want to have our business meeting tomorrow?”

  “I know what you meant, but I want to see you tonight.” I’m settling by not meeting with her now. “Call me after Hippie Lee leaves.”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t do that.”

  We both know she can. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t push one man out and bring another in through a revolving door.”

  She can push Hippie Lee out but once I’m in, I plan on staying. “It wouldn’t be like that.”

  “Then what would it be like?”

  “Call me and you’ll find out.”

  She lowers her face and holds her forehead with her hand. Please don’t hide those beautiful blues from me, Wren. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you were attacked. I didn’t know.” I pull her in so her body is cocooned inside my arms. I’ve missed this smell. Feeling my body wrapped around hers. I fucked up so bad. I don’t want to go another day without this woman in my life. “Let me come after he’s gone, Wren.”

  She clears her voice and straightens. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Another no. Fuck. And dismissal.

  I kiss the top of her head before releasing my hold. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  She’s going to make me work for this. And she should. I fucked up big time.

  The elevator’s downward arrow illuminates to alert me of its arrival. I stand a few extra seconds before entering, hoping Wren will call me back. But she doesn’t.

  I step inside and turn around. She’s still standing there staring at me. Looking so sad. And it’s all because of me. My stupidity.

  I’m so sorry for the way things ended.

  I wait until the very last moment, not even a full second, before the doors shut to call out, “I love you, Wren.”

  Let her think about that while she eats fucking risotto with that hippie wanker.

  Lawrence Thorn

  That fucking Cajun bastard! Not a single word from him in six months. Not a call or text. I can’t believe that jackhole had the audacity to waltz his ass over to my apartment without any kind of warning. And then stand there looking so damn delicious. Made me want to jump on him right then and there, despite the fact Lee was in the next room.

  You’re cooking for him. You’ve moved on. How dare he act like I’m somehow betraying him by having dinner with another man?

  Should I have called? Well, I guess not unless you want to barge into my apartment on the off chance I might have someone with me.

  Please tell me it’s not too late. Too late for what? Dammit. Why did Lee have to walk up at the very moment he was about to tell me?

  I want to see you tonight. Call me when he leaves. What is that about? Sex? Does he really think he can come to town after six months have passed without a bit of communication and woo me into the sack? Well, he probably . . . Fuck, I’m not going to finish addressing that, even in my head.

  It wouldn’t be like that. Call me and you’ll find out. Let me come over after he’s gone, Wren. What the fuck is that about?

  I love you, Wren. I can’t believe he said that to me as the elevator doors were closing. Bastard.

  “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden. And you seem to have lost your appetite.” I’ve been pushing mushroom risotto around my plate for fifteen minutes without a bite.

  “Just thinking about Savan Cider. It’s a big move for me to go from a retail store to the brewery business.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me, Lawrence. I know your potential partner at Savan Cider is what you’re really thinking about.”

  Lee’s right and I owe him an apology. “I’m sorry. I had no idea he would show up here like that. It’s thrown me for a bit of a loop.”

  “He’s the one?” What does Lee mean when he says the one?

  The one who showed me what butterflies felt like?

  The one I can’t hate? Not even a little bit although I try my damnedest.

  The one I want to hug so tightly I fit all his broken pieces back together?

  The one my heart is talking about when it whispers he’s it?

  If that’s what Lee means then the answer is yes. And I can tell by the way he’s looking at me he sees that all over my face. “I’m sorry.”

  Lee pushes a
way from the table and takes his plate to the sink. “There’s clearly something there besides Savan Cider dealings to tend.” I can’t disagree with him. Brou and I are unfinished business.

  “You’ll need to take care of whatever’s going on if you want us to go any further.” Do I want things to go further with him?

  This is my fourth date with Lee since my breakup with Brou. I haven’t let him go beyond kissing me. I pushed his hand away when he tried to slip it down the waist of my skirt. I let Brou do that to me the weekend we met and was going to let him do so much more. Was totally bummed when we were unable to take it further.

  Lee crosses his arms and leans against my kitchen cabinet. “You dropped me the last time this guy came around. Should I expect that to happen again?”

  I have no reply for that. Or any idea what’s going to happen. My head is spinning.

  “No answer? That’s great, Lawrence.”

  “I’m sorry.” I can’t reassure Lee about our relationship when I’m not sure where things stand with Brou. Has he changed his mind?

  Fuck, Brou shows up at my door and I’m ready to drop everything—even this super nice guy who seems willing to do anything to make me happy—so I can run back into the arms of the man who hurt me.

  “I like you, Lawrence. We have a lot of fun together and share a ton of things in common. Can you say that about you and bearded Broussard?”

  I’m carefree. He’s guarded.

  I want marriage. He doesn't.

  I want children. He doesn’t.

  I’ve spent years working on my recovery. He’s damaged and has no intention of seeking help.

  Lee comes to me and grabs the sides of my face as he plants a kiss on my mouth. Not heated. Not demanding. Sweet. “I think you need time to think about what you want.” I know what I want. I’ve had nothing but time to think about it.

  He kisses me again. Still lackluster. “I really hope it’s me you choose.” You’d never know by this kiss. Not only that, he isn’t fighting for me, he’s . . . hoping. Hoping I’ll choose him.

  Brou would have yanked me hard against him. Pushed his hands into my hair. Probably shoved his hand into my panties and made me come. Maybe even convinced me to say something really dirty like I love the way you lick my pussy. Mmm . . . makes me shudder but in the best kind of way.

  I miss that dirty bastard.

  I don’t think Lee has an alpha bone in his body, but Lucas Broussard isn’t afraid to exert his dominance. Get on your hands and knees. Ass up. Now, Wren. My skin erupts with goosebumps as I recall his sexy commands in the bedroom.

  I’m relieved when Lee is gone. In all fairness, I try to recall why I’ve been dating him. He’s kind. Respectful. Gentle and patient. We share countless commonalties. But eating the same kind of food and sharing the same beliefs doesn’t set my heart or body on fire.

  I sit in silence at my dining table for the longest time looking at my phone. I want to call Brou so badly. I ache to lift the phone and press call when I scroll to his contact.

  All I’m doing is prolonging the inevitable. There’s a hard conversation we must have. We either do it in privacy now or tomorrow in front of Ollie. I choose now.

  Come back. I need to see you.

  My heart accelerates and pounds so hard I hear it in my ears, feel it in my face. My upper lip is quivering after I press send.

  Be there in ten.

  I watch the clock on the wall and hear every click of the second hand as I wait for Brou. Six hundred ticks. The racket is maddening so I turn on some music to drown the annoying sound.

  I nearly jump out of my skin when he knocks. Shit. He’s here.

  I inhale deeply and exhale slowly. “Calm the fuck down, Lawrence.”

  My pep talk does little for my nerves. I’m practically trembling when I open the door. I go completely stupid, and speechless, when I look into those blue eyes.

  “Can I come in? I’d much rather talk inside instead of in the hallway this time.”

  I open the door wide. “Of course. Sorry.”

  Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Get yourself in check, girl.

  Getting myself in check becomes impossible when Brou pulls me to him. His hands are on my face, his forehead pressed to mine. And I don’t push him away.

  “I’ve missed you so much, Wren.”

  The taste of his mouth. The feel of his beard against my skin. The warmth of his arms around me. All of it became a physical necessity for my survival. I haven’t truly been living since we separated. Just existing.

  “God, I’ve missed you too.” I put my hands on his face; I have to touch his beard. Another thing I’ve missed.

  I’ve surrounded myself with friends and family for the last six months. Those I love most. I thought staying busy would help with the pain but there’s been a void in my life. A hole only one person in this world can fill.

  I pride myself on being strong and independent, but there’s no denying I fell apart when I lost Brou. I had to sweep myself up from the floor and put me back together. But I couldn't make the pieces fit; they weren’t all there. He kept the biggest one. My heart.

  “What are you doing with him?” Brou’s voice is a whisper. I may even detect a tremble.

  “Not what you probably think.”

  “Are you fucking him?” I hear the sharp edge of pain in his words.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Has he touched you? Made you come?”

  I shake my head again. “No.”

  “Thank fuck.”

  Brou’s mouth lands on mine without warning. Without permission. No amount of rain could douse the fire I have burning inside me for this man.

  He stops kissing me when I’m breathless and distances our faces so his eyes connect with mine. “The last six months . . . I don’t have words for the misery. Being without you has changed every thing I thought I knew and wanted in my life. I was so wrong to let you go.”

  His words are pretty, but he’s yet to say what I need to hear. All of this is for naught if he’s still in the same mindset as six months ago. “I love you and I want nothing more than to be together but none of this matters if you haven’t changed your mind about the future.”

  “Your love drowns all my demons.” He drops to his knees and presses his face to my stomach. “I didn’t know until you left me that I could find the courage to overcome my fears. You were right. It wasn’t my fault. Eli didn’t die because of something I thought. My marriage to Bridgette wasn’t an indication of the husband I can be. It’s you. It’s us. Marriage. Vasectomy reversal. Whatever your heart desires. I love you, Lawrence Thorn, and I don’t ever want to be separated from you again.” This man is on his knees and willing to do whatever it takes to make me happy. All of this is for me.

  He came for me. Again.

  I put my fingers into his hair, pushing it away from his face so I can clearly see his eyes. And that’s where I become lost. But it’s the kind of lost that's more like being found. Suddenly everything in the world is right. “I love you, Lucas Broussard.”

  He looks up at me from his knees. “Please say you’ll have me back.”

  “Only if you’ll have me.”

  He kisses my stomach over my shirt. “I’d very much like to have you right now. But there’s something I need to do first. And it’s going to be a little difficult to do on both of my knees.” As in he only needs to be on one?

  Holy shit.

  Brou leaves his kneeling position to stand before me. He rubs his hands up and down the length of my arms. “You’re trembling, baby.”

  “I . . .” It’s the only word I’m able to get out of my mouth.

  The harder I try to stop shaking, the worse it becomes. Maybe I should try breathing exercises. Inhale deeply. Exhale slowly.

  “Wren, are you okay?”

  I nod because I haven’t yet found my voice.

  “As you know, I looked at the books for Savan Cider.”

  What the fuck?

&n
bsp; I thought he was about to propose.

  “As far as the numbers go, I like what I see there.”

  “That’s good.” My voice sounds like a damn croaking frog.

  “The evaluations are good. It’s going to be profitable so I’m in favor of buying.” I was wrong. I’m getting a business meeting instead of a marriage proposal.

  The sudden change of direction from where I assumed we were going makes me dizzy. Pull it together, Lawrence. Can’t let him know you thought he was about to propose. You could scare him off again. “You’re in favor of Lovibond partnering with me?”

  “Of course. Stout said you were interested in a third or possibly half.”

  “I know I can afford a third but ideally I’d like to go halfers if we can get it for the right price.”

  “How do you feel about going half and half with me?”

  Has he lost his mind? Brou and I can’t take on a brewery without the brew masters. “We would need Ollie. Maybe Porter too.”

  “I have a different kind of partnership in mind. And I think the only people we need to make it work are you and me.” He takes a black leather box from his pocket and flips open the top. “I already know you’ll be the better half.”

  I may hyperventilate.

  Brou takes the ring from the box and reaches for my hand. He brings it to his lips and kisses the top. “The moment I saw you at that festival, I only knew one thing about you. You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. But then I was lucky enough to steal a forbidden kiss. And I felt alive for the first time in years. The whole world became something different with you in my arms.”

  He holds a gold vintage engagement ring with a round center stone. It looks at least fifty years old. It’s so me. “I won’t be satisfied until I wake with you by my side every morning. Be my wife, Wren. And mother of my children. And business partner.”

  “Let me think about it.” I try to look serious but it’s impossible. I can’t stop smiling. Inside I’m screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  “I’m not telling you it's going to be easy. But it will be worth it.” He puts the ring on the tip of my finger and waits for my answer. “All you have to do is say yes.”