Page 187 of Fresh Start

“We’ll all see him for Thanksgiving this fall,” I supply.

Two massive hands materialize in front of our faces, snapping multiple times.

“Nuh uh,” Brandon says. “No Tuck-moping. He’s where he needs to be.” He aims a look at Julia, pointedly bobbing his head with each word. “And we are happy for Tuck.”

Julia recites the words with a grumble, then excuses herself to hunt down Dallas.

I’m unprepared when Brandon scoops me from my chair, claims my seat, and dumps me unceremoniously onto his lap. His grin is pure mischief.

“So, my future fiancée,” he says. “How’s your evening?”

I laugh even as I nestle closer against his body. His button-up is unbuttoned well past his tanned collarbones, offering a peek at his tantalizing tattoo to anyone who bothers to look.

And I bother. A lot.

“You can’t just call me your fiancée, you know.” I thread my fingers through the hair at his nape, knowing exactly how crazy it makes him. I’m rewarded with the treeline hue of his eyes darkening. “Not unless you put your money where your mouth is.”

“What about my mouth?” he teases, low and husky.

I flush brighter than the spotlights. “I was just saying?—”

“Sure, you were.”

He runs a line of sparking kisses from my ear to my jaw. Gathering the silk beside my waist into fistfuls, he continues to drop scalding kiss after kiss to my neck. My eyes may be closed, but I’m seeing stars.

“I love you, Kate.” His rough whisper finds my lips, a delicious sandpaper I want to taste again and again. He splays his fingers across the fabric on my left hip, above the rose tattoo that marks me his.

“I love you too,” I whisper, and a heady sense of want seems tosurround us both. His kisses turn urgent, and I have to push a palm against his thundering heart.

“Brandon,” I say, chest rising and falling. “Not here.”

Something like pride glints in his eyes at the way I’m quivering.

“Then where?” he teases.

“Home.” I breathe a laugh. “Take me home.”

His smile turns soft.

“Oh,love. You already are home.”