Brooks (Benson Brothers #1) Read online

  He looked down at his tented pants.

  “No big,” he said.

  “I’d beg to differ,” I said and his head snapped up. I winked and then curtseyed. He burst out laughing and I joined him.

  “Holy shit,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You are ridiculous, in the best way, Remi.”

  “Why thank you,” I said, edging farther away from him. I couldn’t trust myself not to pounce again.

  “Fuck,” he said, staring down at his pants again. “I need to not look at you right now and think about, like, oozing wounds and other gross shit.” I snorted.

  “Sorry, not sorry.” He glared and then closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose.

  “Are you meditating the boner away?” I asked.

  He tried to hide a smile.

  “Shut. Up.”

  “Fine, fine,” I said, turning my back and going back to looking at his paintings. They were mostly all of the outdoors. He really did nature and weather well. Especially clouds, which I bet were not easy. I’d never dabbled in painting, other than art class in high school, and I’d gotten frustrated when the image on the page didn’t match the image in my head.

  I waited until I heard the creak of him getting up from his bed.

  “You good now?” I asked.

  “Uh, good enough,” he said. I turned around and looked at his pants.

  “My face is up here,” he said, pointing.

  “You tucked, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did and I have no shame,” he said, shrugging. “Not the most comfortable solution, but I had to do what I had to do.” His eyes were blazing and I clenched my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t reach for him.

  “Well. I’m sure your parents are wondering what the hell we’re doing up here,” I said.

  “Probably.”

  I walked toward the door. He followed behind, walking a little oddly.

  “Don’t even say anything,” he said.

  “Who me?” I batted my eyelashes at him and opened the door.

  ****

  We got downstairs and I tried my best to look composed. I had an easier time of it than Brooks, since I didn’t have to tuck my dick into my pants, but I could feel my face getting red.

  Lilly and Ben were in the living room, talking, when we walked in.

  “Would you like some more coffee?” Lilly asked with a completely straight face.

  “No, I’m good, thank you. I should, um, probably get home.” So I don’t maul your son. Again. At least I managed not to say the words out loud.

  “Right,” Brooks said, putting his hands in his pockets. “And I need to drive you.”

  “Thank you so much for dinner, it was lovely,” I said and Lilly gave me a hug.

  “You’re welcome anytime. With or without Brooks. I’m always outnumbered in this house.” Yeah, that was for sure.

  “Thanks,” I said and shook Ben’s hand again. Brooks followed right behind me.

  “Way to be cool, man,” I said as he handed me into the truck.

  “Seriously, stop it,” he said, but he was grinning.

  He got in and shut the door.

  “Is it okay if we don’t go right back to your house? I think we need to do some talking now that we’ve cooled down a little.” Maybe he had, I certainly hadn’t. Being so close to him in the truck was doing shit to my brain again.

  “Sure,” I said and he started the truck.

  ****

  We drove down to the water, which wasn’t a surprise. Brooks pulled off the road and turned the truck off.

  “What the fuck are we doing?” he finally said as the waves crashed against the shore with a quiet roar.

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” I asked and he turned to me.

  “I’m serious, Remi. What is happening? Because I don’t think friends is gonna work for me.” I pretty much felt the same way, but didn’t want to say that. My head was scrambled and I needed a night to sleep on things.

  “Uh, yeah, sorry about the kissing you and everything. Won’t happen again.”

  “Don’t do that,” he said, pointing at me. “Don’t pull back from me. We were both in that kiss.” I opened my mouth and then snapped it shut.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, really. I had an impulse and I went for it and... I don’t know. I didn’t expect...” I trailed off. I was excellent at talking, really.

  “Yeah, me neither. But I can’t get you out of my head and I don’t want to.” I sighed.

  “Yeah, well, me neither. Are you happy now, you insufferable bastard?” He started laughing at me.

  “Your mouth gets so dirty when you’re backed into a corner. It’s so sexy.”

  No one had ever said that to me. I bit back a smile.

  “Let’s be real. I like you, you like me. I want you, and unless I’m really bad at this, you want me too. This is simple math.” It should have been. But it wasn’t.

  “I don’t... This wasn’t what I wanted. My entire life has been trying to get out of this fucking town and if I let myself... with you, then I’m never gonna get out.” He flinched at my words, but I wasn’t gonna sugarcoat anything. He should be used to that by now. He’d spent enough time with me.

  “Yeah, well, I used to want a lot of fucking things, Remi, but right now all I want is you.” And then I was the one being kissed.

  He dove at me and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching back. We sort of collided in the middle.

  We kissed with desperation, as if this was a movie or something and we couldn’t breathe without each other. It kinda felt like that. His mouth was both hard and soft, not enough and too much at the same time. I wanted to crawl inside him.

  The things running through my head scared me, but they were like a train and I had no control. This was happening, whatever I said.

  This time, he was the one who slammed on the brakes.

  “So you’re telling me you don’t want this, Remington?” Dammit, if only he hadn’t said my full name. Using my full first name always did things to me. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

  “I... I don’t know,” I said, sitting back. I was totally frustrated. Too many conflicting things running through my blood.

  “Shit, Remi,” he said, running his hands through his hair like I had earlier.

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “Can you at least agree to let us try? To give it a shot and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work, but at least we can say we tried?” I was kind of a hypocrite for getting mad at him for not working on his art when for ridiculous reasons, I was now denying myself something I wanted.

  I licked my lips, but all I could taste was him and it was making me stupid.

  “Okay,” I finally said. “But I don’t want to call this a thing. Like, we’re not having a relationship. We’re just seeing where things go. And I’ll only do it if you agree to do your art for an hour every day.” He glared at me and then smiled.

  “You sneaky little thing. Okay, I agree.” He stuck his hand out and I shook it, like we were completing a business transaction.

  “Good,” I said and then lunged at him again.

  What had I gotten myself into?

  Nine

  Brooks

  Somehow I went from being “friends” with Remi to making out with her in my truck like we were horny teenagers. No idea how we’d finally gotten here, but I liked it.

  She just felt so good. If she’d asked me to devote my whole fucking life to making finger paintings, I would have said sure. I’d probably do anything to be able to keep kissing and touching her.

  Remi was both vicious and sweet and I couldn’t get enough of her. I could feel that I was in deep trouble, but there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it.

  Something had started that day when she’d walked into Benson Variety, and all of this was just an inevitable conclusion.

  Finally we both realized that I had to get her home. She climbed off me and fixed her hair and reapplied her lipstick in th
e mirror.

  “Shit, I look like I’ve been worked over. Which, I mean...” she trailed off and then snapped the mirror back up.

  “Your mom isn’t going to like me very much now, I’m guessing,” I said. She snorted.

  “All my mom wants is for me to get married and pop out grandbabies, so anything that might lead to that is something she’s in favor of.” I cringed and she laughed.

  “But really, I should get home. So I can think about what the hell I’m thinking.” I understood what she was saying, that this thing between us was just... overwhelming.

  For both of us.

  I drove and she made me turn off the headlights before going up her parents’ driveway.

  “Do your art. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye,” she said, giving me the quickest kiss in the history of kisses, before throwing herself out of the truck and dashing up the porch and into the house.

  I shook my head at her and then backed out.

  That girl.

  ****

  You gonna do your art today?

  It was the first text I got in the morning. It had come in very late at night, so either she’d stayed up, or woken up and been thinking about me. I really, really liked that.

  Maybe. You gonna let me take you out this week?

  It was a lazy Monday and I was at the store. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as I handed out breakfast sandwiches and people sipped blearily from their cups of coffee. I made small talk and listened to gossip and marital problems, but my mind was on a girl with purple hair that had me all tied up inside.

  Ugh, fine. But it’s not a date.

  I could hear her voice in my head when I read it.

  Fine, it’s not a date. But I’m picking you up whether you like it or not.

  We texted back and forth the whole day and then into the night. I’d never used my phone so much, but I didn’t want to miss a single message.

  That night after dinner, I went up to my room and pulled out a fresh canvas that I’d had in my closet. It was about three-and-a-half feet tall, so it wasn’t going to be a small project.

  I checked my paints and realized they were all old and useless.

  Do I get a free pass today if all my paint is crap and I need to go buy some more? I asked.

  Nope. You can use anything to make art.

  She was right, so I switched to charcoal. I let my hand scatter across a fresh page and it took me a little while to realize that I was drawing features. Eyes, a stubborn chin, an adorable nose.

  Her. I was drawing her.

  Am I expected to show my work?

  I didn’t really want her knowing that I was drawing her like this. Way too intimate. So I quickly sketched the tree outside my window and sent her a picture of that.

  Nice job, dude. A for effort.

  I grinned when she sent me a silly picture of her holding her thumb up and giving me a goofy smile. I did the same thing and sent it back.

  Dork.

  I made a frowny face and then sent that.

  You’re so mean to me.

  We went back and forth for a little while and then I asked her again if we were going to go out this weekend.

  Like I said, as long as it’s not a date. Because it’s not. Because we’re NOT DATING.

  I laughed. I didn’t care what she called it as long as it happened. She could call it a board meeting if it made her feel better.

  Now I just had to figure out what we were going to do so I could convince her that she DID want to call it a date. And call me her boyfriend. And stick around to see where this thing was going to take the two of us.

  ****

  Things were different on Tuesday night when she came in to bake. This time I got a kiss.

  “Gimme some sugar,” she said, puckering as I leaned down.

  “Cute,” I said when our mouths parted again.

  “I thought so,” she said, moving past me and going back to the kitchen. Now that I’d gotten a taste of what I was missing, all I wanted was to lift her up on the counter, unzip her jeans and get on my knees to see just how sweet she really was.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she said as she measured out some vanilla.

  “Like what?” I said, looking up from decorating some cookies. She’d roped me into making designs on them so they were more eye-catching. I’d been working on a Maine theme with lobsters and lighthouses and all that tourist crap.

  “Like you are picturing me naked. It’s distracting.” She looked at me and raised one eyebrow.

  “Sorry, not sorry,” I said and ducked. I thought she was going to hit me with her spoon.

  “You’re a terrible person.”

  “Yeah, well you’re the one who kissed me first, so what does that say about you?” I asked.

  She stuck her tongue out at me.

  “Very mature.”

  She just smiled and I went back to the cookies.

  “So, where are you taking me during the time we are going to spend time together?”

  I still hadn’t figured that out. Somewhere nice, but not too stuffy. I wanted to impress her without looking like I was trying to impress her. Not an easy task. There weren’t a whole lot of options for couples to go near Hope Harbor, so we were going to have to head somewhere else.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out on Friday night,” I said, my eyes on the cookie I was working on.

  “So you have no idea,” she said.

  “No, none,” I admitted. I couldn’t bullshit her. She could see right through it.

  “I figured. I’m not fancy, which you already know. And it’s not a date so... We could go to the movies and make out in the back and steal each other’s popcorn for all I care. I guess I just... I just like being around you.” Her cheeks got a little red. I loved it when she admitted that she liked me and then got all nervous and cute.

  “I like being around you too, Remington.” The way she got when I said her full first name made my day. I absolutely loved it.

  “Anyway, if you’re thinking you have to plan like, some shit with a hot air balloon, then you don’t have to, FYI.” I nodded. I didn’t think she’d like that kind of thing anyway. Maybe I could talk her into grand gestures in the future, but for right now, I was playing it safe.

  Okay, casual it was. I could do that.

  Remi

  By Friday afternoon, I was sitting in my room with my closet torn apart, wondering what the fuck I was supposed to wear on my surprise date with Brooks. I didn’t want to cave and text him, but this was getting ridiculous.

  Do I need to wear anything specific for this date?

  I stared at my phone until he replied. I hated how my heart fluttered a little bit when the answer showed up.

  Nope. Come as you are. Just your beautiful self.

  Smooth. Very smooth, Brooks Benson.

  Okay, come as myself. I finally settled on a cute t-shirt with a Peter Pan collar, the nicest pair of jeans I owned, a cardigan in case it got cold and my nice sandals. Cute, but not overdone.

  I was beyond happy that I didn’t have to deal with my mom tonight because she and Dad had decided to go out on a date or something. I had no idea what was up with that, but it was cute and it also it got them out of my hair. Win-win.

  When Brooks pulled up, I leisurely walked toward his truck, enjoying the way he watched me move.

  “Hello,” I said when he opened my door for me.

  “Hello, Remi. You look gorgeous.” He kissed me on the cheek and I almost giggled. I hadn’t been out with a guy like this for so long. It was nice. Really nice.

  He had on a nice pair of dark jeans on and a polo shirt. Normally I thought those things made guys look douchey, but it worked on him. Somehow.

  “No parents?” he asked as he backed out.

  “They went on a date,” I said, shrugging. “But I didn’t have to run to meet you this time, so that was a plus.”

  He laughed a little.

  “My parents still go out on
dates too. My dad gets my mom flowers and everything. It gives me faith in love, you know?” I nodded. As much as my parents were totally flawed people, they loved each other. That had never been in doubt.

  “So, where are we going?”

  He smirked and I could tell he was so excited and pleased with himself.

  “You’ll see. You said you didn’t care if it was fancy, so we’re not doing fancy. But it’s going to take a little bit to get there. I didn’t think you’d want to hang around Hope Harbor.” He had that right. I didn’t want to hang around there any more than was necessary.

  “Fine, then I get to pick the tunes.” I turned on the radio and flipped through the stations. So much freaking country. We were in Maine, not Alabama. I finally settled on the alt-rock station since they were playing “Home” by Scars on 45. I hummed along. Brooks was watching me, but I didn’t care. There was something about being with him that was simultaneously thrilling and comfortable. As if we’d been friends for so long that we’d lost all shyness.

  Then he would shoot me that boyish smile and undo my insides and my feelings were definitely not of friendship. Unless you wanted to bang your best friend, then it was exactly like that.

  “You look really pretty,” he said and I bit my lip in an attempt to hide a smile.

  “Stop it,” I said.

  “Never. I will never stop trying to make you smile and blush. It’s one of my main purposes in life.” I smacked his shoulder and he laughed.

  “Yeah, well you look handsome tonight, so how about that?” He gave me a cheeky grin and popped the collar of his polo shirt.

  “Okay, I take that compliment back,” I said, cringing, even though he didn’t look like an asshole. How was that possible?

  “Too late. No takebacks.”

  “Dammit.”

  ****

  I spent most of the trip trying to figure out where we were going and also stopping myself from flirting with him. I wasn’t successful at either thing.

  I didn’t figure it out until I saw the giant sign for the Wilson County Fair.

  “We’re going to the county fair?” I asked.

  “Yup. I thought about blindfolding you and doing a dramatic reveal, but I don’t think I could stand to be with you in the truck and blindfolded without doing something that would involve us not coming here. So.” He turned onto the huge field where everyone parked and squeezed his truck in.