The One That Got Away (Kingston Ale House)

Jamie wasn’t practiced in the art of telepathic suggestion, but he thought he’d give it a try. Because shit, this would be so much easier if Brynn would just realize she felt the same about him as he did about her. Fucking doubt. It ate a hole in his insides. He never doubted anything—not his work, not how the women he dated felt about him—and he was beginning to understand why.

His job was the easy part. He was good at what he did. Science came naturally to him, and the science of brewing even more so. And women? Well, his social life wasn’t lacking. But connection—something was missing there. He couldn’t remember the last woman he truly connected with enough that when the relationship ended he regretted its ending. They all just seemed to run their course, or in the case of Liz, run completely off track when he finally saw what was right in front of him—what had always been in front of him, but he’d been too scared to act. Too scared to lose. Because regret would not be enough when it came to losing Brynn.

“Hey, sweetie. Aliens take possession on your walk around the truck?”

He looked at Brynn, who was sitting next to him in the vehicle, the one he hadn’t remembered entering. His left hand gripped the wheel, and his right was at the ready with the key slotted into the ignition.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. And then louder. “I was just thinking.”

She nudged his shoulder. “Can you think and drive? Because I’m a little worried about your multitasking abilities right now.”

She slid her glasses to the tip of her nose and inclined her head toward him, looking over the top of her frames. He let out a laugh, one that broke whatever spell he was under for the moment.

“Can you even see me when you do that? You’re just south of making eye contact, you know. But my nose will take your look into account.”

She sighed, resituating her glasses and then, proving Jamie right, readjusting her gaze so they were eye-to-eye.

“Got you to laugh, Mr. Serious. What’s up with you, anyway?”

He started the truck. He could multitask. There was no question about that. But he sure as hell didn’t want to tell her what was up, at least not when it felt so one-sided.

“Ready to hit Amarillo?” he asked, and she settled into her seat and nodded, not pressing him to answer her question, and so he didn’t. “I’ve gotta fill up first.”

At that, Brynn began rummaging through her bag, and when her hands emerged, she thrust two twenty dollar bills at him. Jamie took the cash, looked at it, and then tucked it into the center console cup holder so he could shift into first and stop blocking the hotel’s entrance.

“What’s this for?” he asked.

“Gas,” she said. “I didn’t think I had any cash left. But sometimes I have a few bills in one of the credit card slots in my wallet.”

Jamie raised a brow, and she continued.

“Whenever someone gets mugged in a movie, they always make them open up the cash pocket so they can see the contents, make sure they’re getting it all.”

He nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“And you want to outsmart all those muggers trolling the hipsters in Lincoln Park.”

She crossed her arms. “If they take everything, how will I hail a cab for help?”

Jamie scrubbed his hand across the stubble on his chin.

“Cabs do take credit cards.”

Brynn sighed and opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off.

“And what if they take the whole wallet?”

“Then I guess they’ll get a little surprise after I cancel my credit cards.” Brynn rolled her eyes. “You’re making fun of me, but if I didn’t hide my emergency cash from the muggers, we’d have none right now.”

Jamie pulled into the first gas station they came across, one that housed two pumps and a pay hut that looked like it had room for no more than the person who sat in it along with his cash register. Jamie shook his head as he eyed the sign in the small window: Computer down. Cash only.

A self-satisfied grin greeted him when he turned to face Brynn.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

He put the truck in park and killed the engine.

“You know, for someone who makes her living working with numbers, you have a pretty twisted sense of logic.”

“All part of my charm,” she said. And she was right.

Jamie grabbed the forty bucks, grateful he had just half a tank to fill, and decided that when they actually did find a working ATM that he’d grab an extra twenty and slip it behind his debit card.





Chapter Fourteen


“Tell me about the bar. It’s the only part I didn’t get to see for myself.”

Brynn closed her eyes, waiting for Jamie to launch into a description of the place where she had the most sensual beer drinking experience she could remember. But remembering the way she tasted the foam somehow brought her to thoughts of Jamie this morning as he popped his head out from behind the shower curtain. And then her mind conjured images of Jamie from last summer, trim and tan, playing volleyball with his buddies at the beach. Only the net and the volleyball quickly disappeared, and the image of him wearing nothing but his swim trunks augmented the quick glimpse she got of his covered-with-beads-of-water torso. Her breath quickened, and she opened her eyes just as he gave her a sideways glance.

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