Page 49 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

“Exactly.” I pulled at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up his back. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

He rolled his eyes as he yanked off the shirt the rest of the way. “You could have saved us some time and answered the door naked.”

I giggled. “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

I nodded, reaching between us for the button on his jeans.

This was the third night of our motel-room rendezvouses, and the dance to rid one another of clothing took less and less time each night. Practice makes progress.

I hadn’t spent the day with Brooks since our boat ride on Friday. He’d been busy all weekend and unable to spend time with me during the day.

I’d done my best not to spy. The window in my room overlooked the backside of the motel, out toward the lake and not his yard. But I’d gone out of my room and wandered some. Each time, his truck had been missing from the driveway in his house. Okay, I’d spied.

But he’d come to my room each night and stayed for five or six hours, long enough that I was boneless by the time he left to walk home in the dark. Eating dinner and making out on the rock had been replaced with hot, wild and sweaty sex. A fair trade.

I worked the zipper on Brooks’s jeans free, diving in to wrap my hand around his shaft.

He bit my lip as I squeezed. “Naughty woman.”

That bite was just the beginning. We teased and tormented one another until I was a writhing, screaming mess, pinned to the bed with my hands above my head and his body driving me to the edge.

After we came apart, he flopped beside me, that glorious, broad chest heaving. I slid my fingers into the dusting of dark hair across it, resting my palm over his hard nipple.

“I shouldn’t have worked out today,” he breathed.

I turned sideways, propping my head on an elbow. “You worked out?”

He nodded. “I went for a run this morning before going to the garage.”

“In this heat?” Wild horses couldn’t have dragged me on a run in this humidity. He should have come here instead; I would have worked him out. “Do you normally run?”

“Hold that question.” He bent and stood from the bed, giving me a moment to appreciate his firm ass and the strength in his back as he walked to the bathroom. It didn’t take him long to dispose of the condom and return to the bed, the view of the front just as gorgeous as the back.

He mirrored my position, lying on a side to face me, and flicked the sheet over our legs and hips. “I need to tell you something.”

My body tensed. The last time I’d heard those words, Gemma had informed me that Secretary was pregnant.

“It’s not bad.” He grinned, using his free hand to rub away the crease between my eyebrows.

“Okay.” I relaxed a bit.

“The reason I ran this morning was because my son asked me to go with him.”

“Your son?” I blinked, replaying the word. “You have a son?”

Brooks nodded. “I have a son. He’s sixteen. He shares time between my house and Moira’s. Last week, he was with her. This week, he’s with me.”

“Ah.” That explained why he’d been absent all weekend. It stung that in all our conversations, I hadn’t learned about his son. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“It wasn’t because I was trying to hide him from you.” Brooks took my hand and laced our fingers together. “I didn’t want you to know about him and him not know about you, if that makes sense.”

“It does. You put him first.” A foreign concept to my own parents. Had anyone in my life ever put me first? I couldn’t think of a single person, not even Thomas. Only if it served him had he made me a priority.

That Brooks put his son above anyone else endeared him to me even more.

A single dad. A good, single dad. This man kept getting better.