Something New Read online

  Instead of releasing Rodrigo, Braden glanced toward the door at his back and then pulled Rodrigo down the porch steps to the front yard. He spun Rodrigo around until they faced each other before finally letting him go.

  Braden leaned in, narrowing the already small distance between them. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He kept his voice hissing low. “Couldn’t you see Abby wasn’t up for your brand of charm tonight?”

  “I’m not a complete jackass.” Christ, forget the butterflies in my stomach. Now I just want to slug him one in the mouth. “Of course I could see it. The problem is, she hasn’t been up for it in weeks, which is exactly why she needs it.” Rodrigo let his line of sight shift down the street, but Abby was already long gone. His chest tugged at the memory of the too-bright light that hadn’t quite covered the clouds in the woman’s deep blue eyes. “Something is eating at her, Braden.” Rodrigo’s voice lost some of its edge as Abby slipped front and center into his thoughts. “She’s starting to hide. Whatever is bothering her, it won’t help to keep isolating herself from her friends.”

  “And your constant poking while she’s dealing with some personal issue is going to get her to open up?” Braden leaned back on the heels of his dark boots and settled his arms against his chest. “Is that what you think?”

  His jaw clenched, Rodrigo stepped in and eliminated half the distance between them. “I don’t actually expect her to open up to me.” He gave Braden a once-over and, for the moment, ignored the fact that his gaze lingered on strong arms and long, work-roughened fingers for just a hair too long. “Or even to you. However, there are two guys in this house”—he stabbed a finger toward the front door—“she might confide in if forced to be in their company for more than five minutes.”

  “So that’s why you were trying to get her to stay,” Braden said, fully focused on Rodrigo.

  Rodrigo rubbed the back of his neck to settle the raised hairs. “Yes.”

  “It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that you get half-hard every time she rises to your bait?” Braden glanced down, and Rodrigo followed him to the unmistakable start of a bulge pushing against Rodrigo’s jeans. “It’s purely altruistic,” Braden said as he blinked and met Rodrigo’s gaze with knowledge shining in his own. “Right?”

  Heat surged through Rodrigo; he had his hand twisted in Braden’s sweater and the man hauled up against the base of the porch in two moves. “How hard anyone makes me for whatever reason is none of your goddamn business.” Rodrigo gritted his teeth and shoved even closer into the bastard. “You hear me?”

  Each breath Braden took rolled his chest in a wave under Rodrigo’s hand and brushed warm air over Rodrigo’s lips. Their bodies touched in other places too, and Rodrigo prayed the half wood he sported for Abby covered the unwanted twitching he could not control right now, something he feared was happening entirely due to Braden.

  Adrenaline is still pumping and has me getting harder because of Abby. That’s all.

  “You’re right. It’s not my business,” Braden finally said. A small catch in his voice had Rodrigo narrowing his gaze. “And I know you genuinely care about Abby. It was a cheap shot to bring in the fact that you are so obviously attracted to her just to make my point.”

  What the fuck?

  Rodrigo suddenly felt like Abby on the other side of one of his taunts. “Are you baiting me now, Crenshaw?” His blood sped up more than a little at the thought.

  Braden searched Rodrigo’s face for the longest time, each flick of his gaze instilling the sensation of a roller-coaster ride in Rodrigo’s stomach.

  “Maybe,” Braden said, making the word feel like as much a caress as his scrutiny did. “Maybe I’m just envious.”

  Rodrigo reared. “What?” Of me, or her? He untangled his hand from Braden’s sweater, horrified at his thoughts. He wasn’t gay, for God’s sake. Neither was Braden, for that matter. Rodrigo took a half dozen more steps back, searching for air that didn’t have this man’s scent mixed in it. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because Abby obviously likes you back.” Braden smoothed his hands down the front of his sweater. He didn’t move, and Rodrigo was grateful for it. “She gets all flushed when you guys go at it. Something lights up in her when she’s close to you. She wouldn’t do that if she didn’t care about you and like you for who you really are beneath this macho guy who thinks he knows what’s right for everyone.”

  Rodrigo bit down the sharp retort building inside him, boiling to explode. He fucking owned his own business; of course he was used to telling people what to do and being the boss. This man wouldn’t get under his skin twice in ten minutes.

  “I don’t know about that,” Rodrigo said. Images of a tall, creamy body, fiery long hair, and ocean blue eyes filled Rodrigo’s mind and once again got his balls swelling in the snug confines of his jeans. “About Abby, I mean.”

  “I do,” Braden answered. “Just like I know you’re right when you say something is troubling her. Just because I don’t spar with her the way you do doesn’t mean I can’t sense the distraction in her too.”

  Son of a mother.

  Rodrigo went back to wanting to strangle this man. “Then why the fuck did you let her go?”

  “Goddamn it, man.” Braden ran his fingers through his dark hair, exposing the strands of silver mixed in, most prominently at the temples. “Because she wasn’t ready to talk about what is plaguing her, that’s why. If you could have stopped yourself for one minute and stepped back from your certainty that you were right, you would have seen that.” The guy scratched at his neck, silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone had lost most of its edge. “Give Abby time, Rodrigo. When she’s ready for help, she’ll ask.”

  A snort escaped Rodrigo. “You don’t know Abby so well after all.”

  Braden linked his hands behind his back and didn’t so much as blink. “I think I do.”

  The quiet certainty in Braden’s tone and the intensity in his stare ignited a flame of jealousy in Rodrigo. It also delivered the shock of a phantom hand—coarse and big, like another man’s—down his spine.

  Why does this keep happening to me around him?

  Rodrigo tore his focus off Braden and wiped his hand over his mouth. “Listen, I need to get out of here. Tell Chris and Jonah sorry for me, will you?” He turned and started jogging to his truck. “Let Chris know I’ll give him a call about our next job in a few days.”

  “I know you too, Santiago.” Braden’s voice—so fucking even and smooth—carried across the front yard and stopped Rodrigo dead in his tracks.

  Fucking A. No way did you figure me out. Please.

  “Don’t follow her home,” Braden added, and Rodrigo started breathing again. “She won’t thank you for it.”

  With one twist of his lower half, Rodrigo did an about-face and cleared the distance between them once more. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Crenshaw.” He couldn’t resist wiping that slash of a secret grin off Braden’s face. “I’m not going to Abby’s.”

  The man’s pupils barely flared. “Convince me.”

  Once again, Rodrigo tamped down the rise of heat inside him and kept his hands unclenched. “You have no right to my personal business. I don’t have to say a word. But since it’s the only thing that will take your arrogance down a notch, I will tell you.” Discomfort that reached further inside Rodrigo, a hundred times deeper and a thousand times different than what Abby or this man brewed in him, had Rodrigo shifting his gaze to the streetlight highlighting his truck. “While on my way here, I talked to my”—he still stumbled spitting out the word—“father on the phone, and we made loose plans to meet for a late dinner.” Rodrigo rubbed at the tension lines forming over his brow. “I’m not really up for that either, though, so I’m gonna cancel it and go home. I have plenty of work I still need to do before I start my next house.”

  “Hey,” Braden said, his voice suddenly soft. He tugged on Rodrigo’s jacket and drew Rodrigo back to him. �
��How’s it going with your dad?”

  Six months ago, out of the blue, a man had contacted Rodrigo, claiming to be his father. The guy seemed certain and definitely knew things about Rodrigo’s late mother that would have been tough to research. Rodrigo had still needed proof. One DNA test later and Rodrigo suddenly had a new parent.

  The open interest in Braden tugged Rodrigo closer. “It’s strange. I never thought of myself as having a father somewhere, even though I know I wasn’t an immaculate conception.” Shaking his head, Rodrigo let out a rough chuckle. “Gotta say, I never looked in the mirror once and saw a…a…”

  Braden quirked a brow. “A redneck looking back at you?”

  “A white man,” Rodrigo clarified, “period, let alone a rural good ol’ boy.” Nothing in Rodrigo’s physical appearance, except perhaps his height, bore any resemblance to the man he’d met with multiple times now. “I always figured he must have been another Colombian who maybe got deported or something. Shit, I don’t know. I’m thirty-four years old. It’s”—Rodrigo gestured with his hands, as if the motion would help find the right words—“bizarre and surreal to look at this person I never knew existed and know that half my DNA is from him.”

  Braden dipped down and made eye contact with Rodrigo. “Are you okay with knowing him?”

  Rodrigo shrugged. “Getting there. It’s still awkward a lot of the time. We have the blue-collar, hard-labor thing in common, so that helps some.”

  “You have plenty white collar in you too, Rodrigo. Don’t downplay your accomplishments for anyone. Long-lost father included.”

  Braden didn’t move a muscle, but Rodrigo swore he could feel the man’s hand gently run down his back in support.

  “Believe me”—Rodrigo reached up and undid the button suddenly choking him—“every time payroll and taxes come around, I remember just how much white starches this thing around my neck.” He flashed an alpha-dog smile. “Got too much ego to ever forget that I’m the boss, remember?”

  One step and Braden nearly rode Rodrigo’s front. “That’s right. You are.” The man curled his hand around Rodrigo’s neck, and Rodrigo jerked at the contact. Braden stayed with him, gazes locked in laser mode, as Braden manipulated the necklines of Rodrigo’s shirt and jacket. “Just straightening that white collar for you,” Braden said. He slid his hand around to the front; before he moved away, the tips of his fingers lingered against the column of Rodrigo’s throat. “Looks good now.”

  Holy shit. That is totally the kind of flirty move I would put on Abby. Isn’t it?

  A whole lot of blood rushed south, killing Rodrigo’s ability to think rationally. “Th-thanks.”

  “I’ll tell Christian and Jonah you had to leave.” Braden loped up the steps to the porch. “Good night.”

  “Yeah. Later.” Rodrigo spun and strode to his truck, climbing in without looking back, just as Abby had done with him.

  The truth was, that clever son of a bitch Braden had been right. Rodrigo had intended to go check on Abby. Rodrigo hadn’t lied, though. He had exchanged a “maybe we can grab a burger together later” conversation with his father, but Rodrigo easily could have dropped in on Abby first.

  Rodrigo figured it was damn near impossible for Abby to be anything less than beautiful, but he knew what tired looked like on a face. Knew what fear looked like too. He’d seen it in Abby more than once in the last few weeks. Nobody who was tired and scared should be left alone to sit and dwell on the things making him or her exhausted and afraid. Rodrigo just wanted to help, even if he could only do it by distracting the woman with conversations that infuriated her.

  Braden might have figured me out, but I still can take a quick peek.

  Rodrigo would just drive by Abby’s building. She had her business on the ground floor and made her home in the rooms on the second level. He would just take a look. If the lights were off, he would leave her to her sleep. Simple as that.

  One friend keeping an eye on another.

  Once Rodrigo settled on his course, half the tension eased out of his frame.

  Braden was responsible for the portion that remained. Rodrigo didn’t know what the hell to do about the fucking strange reactions the man conjured up in him. Half the time Rodrigo sported wood these days, it was for Braden Crenshaw as much as Abby Gaines.

  He had to get the fuck over it before something happened and someone got hurt.

  He’s not quite ready.

  Braden closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, still able to scent both Abby’s and Rodrigo’s unique notes of strawberries and almonds mixed in with the nip in the air.

  Abby is close, but Rodrigo still doesn’t understand what he’s feeling. Or that it’s okay to feel it.

  The man would have to get right with it soon. Braden didn’t know how much more celibacy he could take. It had been two years since his previous partner had ended their relationship—entirely Braden’s fault. This time, though, he intended to get things right.

  He could have pursued Abby months ago and probably convinced the stubborn woman to take a chance on him. It would have been amazing too. He could sense the raw, sensual adventurer living inside the leggy redhead who claimed she didn’t believe in romance or love. Crawling into bed with her, sinking into her wet heat, alternating between fucking her and making love to her… It would be incredible and extremely satisfying. And when it eventually happened, Braden intended to savor it.

  This time, though, when he invested his time and heart in a relationship, he wanted it to last.

  That was where Rodrigo came in.

  When Rodrigo had grabbed Braden and shoved him against the porch, Braden could have thrown Rodrigo off in a heartbeat—if he’d wanted to. He hadn’t. He liked sharing that small space of air with Rodrigo and feeling the man’s hand curled into a fist against his chest. He liked imagining that dominating man bent over and crying Braden’s name just as loudly as he would shout Abby’s.

  Because as much as Braden desired the lovely and sharp-witted Abby Gaines, he responded with equal ferocity to the dark, controlled Rodrigo Santiago.

  Braden’s appetites went both ways, and from the moment he’d set eyes on Abby and Rodrigo—both at the same time, at this very house where he now stood—Braden knew his friend Ben’s advice had been right.

  “Find a man and woman who can give you what you need, together. Enough bouncing back and forth. Stop thinking that one right person will come along and settle this need inside you. Denying who you are is hurting too many people along the way.”

  For two years Braden had struggled with the pain he’d caused Ben, and with believing it was even possible to find a man and woman who would not only want Braden but also each other. The thought of opening his dual desires to a man and woman at the same time, risking humiliation, rejection, and possibly even disgust, terrified him. It still made Braden sweat a bit when he pictured himself suggesting a ménage to two people when he’d never experienced one firsthand to tout its benefits. If he took a chance and failed, if he tried with a man and woman and couldn’t turn a threesome into a successful relationship… Jesus, Braden didn’t want to think about living with the certainty of a failed ménage. It would take away his abstract hope that it could one day be real. He didn’t want to have a harsh reality crush his fantasy and then have to live the rest of his life bouncing between men and women, hurting people, and always knowing that in the end he would be alone. The fear of killing this newly planted dream had kept Braden from ever taking Ben’s threesome suggestion seriously.

  Then Abby and Rodrigo had come into his life. Instantly, Braden has sensed the attraction between them. Just as fast, he’d picked up on Abby’s curiosity in him. Rodrigo’s interest had been less organized, more challenging to read. The guy had clearly never been with another man and undoubtedly didn’t understand that he could desire one while still wanting a woman.

  Ben’s words of wisdom had come rushing back to Braden in a torrent while standing in the kitchen in this very house. For the
first time in Braden’s life, he started to believe he could have it all.

  A man. A woman. Passion between all of us.

  Maybe even love.

  Braden chuckled. One step at a time. He hadn’t even kissed them, let alone gotten them naked and in the same room together.

  Soon, though.

  Something in the air had changed tonight.

  Thank God. Finally.

  Braden was tired of going to bed alone.

  Chapter Two

  Abby wandered around her store in the dark, flitting her fingers over the clothing, purses, shoes, hats, scarves… You name it, and Abby’s Attic had it, from all manner of eras. She kept a nice range of clothing styles in-house and had a very good eye for what her regulars would eat up the second she hung it on a mannequin in the window.

  A locked glass case housed the jewelry Abby offered for sale. Chunky coral pieces, carved Bakelite bangle bracelets, wide filigreed gold chokers, and earrings. Costume pieces sat next to the real thing, and she even had her own funky contemporary designs mixed in.

  The place Abby sat to work took up most of the back wall. She sketched her creations and crafted her pieces out in the open so customers could watch her process. Chatting and working went hand in hand for her, and she would in fact feel isolated if she had to create in a room by herself.

  Very quickly after opening her doors, Abby had realized she would need an online presence to balance out the fact that she had a niche business in a small town. Web sales kept her storefront in the black.

  She loved her business. Loved it more than just about anything. God knew it hadn’t turned her into a wealthy woman—didn’t even make her merely comfortable most of the time—but it was all hers. Well, technically, the bank owned it too, but she gave them their money on time, all the time, so that partnership thankfully remained a silent one.

  Abby knew her store inside and out. Softly colored walls and beautiful things made it a soothing place. She had every nook and cranny memorized, and spent more than enough time in it during the day, certainly to the point where she really didn’t need to walk around it in the dark at night. As much as Abby adored her business, when her day ended, she happily locked it up and walked away every evening until it came time to open again the next day.