A smile creeps out on Brady’s lips as he watches me rant. “It’s not what I would want, mind you, but I thought it would be a big step in the right direction. If it were up to me, it would be banned, plain and simple, but I’m not fool enough to think that will ever happen. But when the senator told me I had impressed him and that he’d love for me to help him craft that very message on his campaign, I thought it was a dream come true. I mean, what PR grad gets offered an amazing job within hours of getting her diploma?”
I fidget with a loose thread hanging from my sheet, hating the rest of this story. “Working for the senator was surreal. His team decided I couldn’t very well traipse across the state representing the esteemed Walter Harrington in my Target-brand threads, so they bought me clothes.”
Clearing my throat, I continue. “And then it somehow became Eric who bought me clothes and gave me a company car and expensive phone. And then it became about me needing to talk a certain way when I spoke to the press, so we practiced getting rid of my twang so I wouldn’t come across as a hick.” Another reason why I love living on the farm. Nobody here gives a damn how I talk.
My face burns with that admission. Brady must sense my humiliation because he tugs me closer until I’m fully wrapped in his arms. “They sound like assholes.”
I laugh. “Yeah. Well, it got worse.” Biting my lip, I wonder how much Brady wants to hear.
He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Babe, you don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to.”
That’s just it. I want to tell him. I want him to know what happened, but I’m worried it’s too much. That we’re crossing a line.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I whisper, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s that you’re leaving… and I’m worried this is more personal than you really want to hear. Most guys don’t want to hear about ex-boyfriends.”
A deep sigh leaves him. “Truth?” He studies my face, and I nod. “I want to know everything about you, Kat. I know we should have some boundaries, but I’m having a hard time pulling back.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest. There it is again. Hope.
And the million-dollar question raises its ugly head. Would he stay if he loved me?
I decide to throw caution to the wind. Because yes, Brady makes me want to take risks. And I’ll share this with him if it means even the slightest chance of changing things between us and making us more permanent somehow.
But I don’t get the chance because Brady squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he grits out. “You’re right. Let’s not do this.”
The sharp inhale of my breath tells us both that I’m more than a little surprised. His lips brush mine. “Come on. I have a better idea.”
He grabs my hand and leads me away from the bed before I can analyze the small cracks in my heart.
45
Brady
As Katherine lowers her body into the hot, sudsy water and presses her ass between my thighs, I’m thinking this is the best damn idea I’ve ever had. Better than me unearthing her past and making her feel vulnerable.
“Mmm,” she moans as the water rises around us. “I don’t know why I don’t take more baths.”
I kiss her neck and she drops her head back to my shoulder. “I think I was eight the last time I took one, but now it’s my new favorite thing.”
The steam rises around us, and I wrap my arms around Kat, enjoying how well her wet body fits against mine.
“Better?” I ask as my lips skim her temple.
“Mmm.”
“Hand me your shampoo.” I motion toward the bottle, and she looks at me over her shoulder.
“You’re gonna wash my hair?”
“Yeah. Turn back around.”
She stares at me, eyes wide. I lean down and run my nose against hers. “Hurry up. The sooner I’m done washing your hair, the sooner I can wash the rest of your naked parts.”
She makes a noise of approval in the back of her throat before leaning forward so I can do my thing. I’m sure she’s fully aware her hair is the last thing on my radar right now as my dick is firmly pressed against her back.
I’ve never washed a woman’s hair before, and I’m surprised by how much I enjoy doing this. I like taking care of Katherine, I’m finding. More than you should.
Little moans escape her as I massage her scalp. She’s leaning against her knee, bent forward so that her wet curls trail over her slender back.
At this angle, I can see her profile. The gentle curve of her neck. Her flushed cheeks. Those luscious pink lips.
It’s at this moment I realize how much she trusts me. How much she must want this, knowing full well that I’m leaving soon, and yet here she is.
She turns back to offer a sleepy smile, those hazel eyes more naked than the rest of her, and emotion overpowers me.
I want to offer her so much more than I can.
Does she know how much I want her, how my thoughts are becoming more and more consumed by her? Does she realize that I reach for her at night and dread the day when she’s no longer by my side?
All the more reasons for us to not discuss our exes.