“The best.” He picks up my hand, and I gently, not so gently tug itback.
Hold my hand after I try to kiss you, I silentlyseethe.
“I agree. That’s why I’m going to confide my deepest, darkest secret to you.” His eyes widen a notch. “I came back to Hollow Brook for a reason, and that reason was a boy.” Do people still sayboyat my age? Should I have saidman—men?
A smug look crosses his face, and my mouth falls open at theaudacity.
“Take it down a notch, Wolf Man. It’s not you.” It’s so him, but I’ll be the last person on earth to admit it. And even if the roof fell in and sent us both to the pearly gates, I probably wouldn’t admit it then either. He’s pissed me off good and, believe you me, I’m going to make sure he feels mywrath.
“Who is it?” He folds his arms tight across his expansive chest, and I can’t help but note the way his muscles bulge. God, even his body is the definition of obnoxious. Obnoxiouslyhandsome, butstill.
“Um—” Oh shit. Who do I even know in Hollow Brook anymore other than the handful of people I interact with at The Sloppy Pelican? Brody huffs an arrogant laugh, and I want to reach over and wrap my arms around his thick, beautiful, partially scruffy, oh-so-tempting-to-nibble-onneck.
“Let me guess.” He leans back on his heels, a total douche move. Sexy douche. “I don’t knowhim.”
I swat him over the chest, and it feels as if my hand just hit flint. “Are you accusing me of faking a crush? That’s ridiculous. Of course, you know him.” Oh my shit. Please, universe, if you could just create one quick sinkhole under Brody Wolf’s home, I will totally forgive you for introducing me to Lex Bleach-Your-No-Fly-Zone Maxfield. “It’s that guy.” I give a coy shrug, hoping he’ll start spouting off names in a panic. Honestly, any name will do. “You know that one.” I nod over to him, but that self-satisfied grin of his only growswider.
“I’m nothelping.”
“You don’t have to. It’s—” My mind flashes through a mental Rolodex of suspects, and all I come up with as viable options are Lex’s psychotic cop brother, Marlin, and Axel’s cutie of a brother, Shep, but neither is really around that much to drive Brody insane. “Oh my God, I know who it is.” I practically shake him. “I mean, my God, how have you not guessed by now?” Wow, I am lousy at this let’s-make-him-stew bullshit. “It’s Momo.” He looks perplexed. “The bartender,Momo.”
“Mojo?” His eyes bug out, and a swell of relief hitsme.
“Ha! I was testing you.” Crap. I couldn’t even get the dude’s name right. “Anyway, I rearranged my entire world so I could be right here in Hollow Brook with him. And now that I’m here, it’s like he doesn’t even notice me.” I take a moment to admire my dark fingernail polish, Black Cherry, an ode to the haunted season. “You think you can get me an in? You know, do theintroductions?”
His features harden, and suddenly Brody looks anxious to kick some muscle man ass. Momo, or Mojo, whatever the hell his name is, has some serious testosterone issues. He’s built like a brick house and is literally covered in the scariest tats known to man. Swear to God, my mother would drop dead on the spot if she knew I was mock datinghim.
“Introductions, huh?” he grunts as if our fun and games have gone too far. And my God, how I love his zero to pissed hero response. Although in reality, it’s more or less a big brother response. Big brothers never appreciate a good bad boy in their sister’s midst, and I can tell Brody is looking to kick one shiny bald skull in on mybehalf.
“Yup. And if things go the way I hope they do, I bet Mozo will let you be the best man at ourwedding.”
“He can’t. You already have a husband. And I don’t approve. Neither will Levi. Chip might, but we both know he’s anass.”
We share a dark laugh on my brother’s behalf. Brody helps me unload the rest of my things from the car and shows me to my room—one right next to his. The bed has a homey quilt over it, and the bathroom has a claw-footed bathtub that makes me want to dive right in. He lets me know Colby was the one that decorated the place. If it were up to him, he’d have a futon and a cooler in the livingroom.
We say goodnight, and I listen through the wall just to hear himbreathing.
I didn’t come back to Hollow Brook for some guy with the tat of a snake dripping down hisforehead.
I came back forBrody.
Aweek swingsby with me visiting The Pelican every single night. Brody woefully made the introduction between Mojo and me, and I’ve been wearing a devilish grin ever since. I’d swear on my life that Brody is seeing red—feelinggreen, and maybe a little bit blue all at the same time. The more I amp up the flirtation with Mojo, the more Brody sulks like a little boy who just had a lollipop plucked from his mouth. I’m hoping that I was that sucker. But even if I’m not, I’m damn glad to see him in such a sour mood. How dare he reject the sacrifice my lips were about to make that night. Doesn’t he realize how difficult it is for childhood friends to move in a sexual direction? I mean, come on. We were privy to one another’s awkward phases. And they were dastardly awkward. Not that Brody had any of those. Nope. While my brothers’ vocal chords were pitching like a soprano, Brody went straight from sounding like a kid to the smooth, dark tones of a man. He was a baritone through and through as soon as he hit thirteen, and I loved every deep, dark moment of it. Still do. The sound of Brody’s voice has always been a panty drencher for me, and I’m guessing it’s what brings the girls to his bed in droves. Thankfully, his bed has been devoid of any ovary-wielding females since I’ve taken residence in his home. It’s just been Brody and me eating takeout, calling in pizza at all hours of the night. One night we busted out the board games and went toe to toe in Monopoly for hours. So what if I still steal from the bank? Brody loves it, and he knows it. It’s been fun and nice and yet he still sees me as his littlesister.
Halloween is finally upon us, and I spent the morning at the dollar store picking up every tacky decoration that was left over and hauling it to Brody’s pristinehome.
“Hey.” He steps out as I’m pulling out the orange garland and leashing it around a cedar tree. “What’s going on?” He chuckles at the sight of the electrified looking black cat I’ve just set at the base of hisporch.
“’Tis the season of the witch. Or didn’t you get the memo? I’m tired of the neighbors giving us the side-eye because we’re behind the haunted times. By the way, the Thomas family down the street with the zombies and baby dolls hanging from nooses? So freaking twisted. I’d check the basement for bodies once theymove.”
“I agree with you on that.” He fishes around the multitude of bags I’ve strewn across the lawn and pulls out the faux webbing that’s going to make this place look as if every tarantula on the planet lives here. I head over to lend a hand and we wrap the entire front porch with enough webbing to ensure not a single trick-or-treater will be able to penetrate the spidery fort. “You do realize we have to get back in. The Halloween party down at The Pelican is going to be huge tonight. Youcoming?”
A dark laugh gurgles from me. “And let Mojo miss seeing me in my sexy French maid costume? I even sprung for thetickler.”
“The tickler?” His jaw clenches at the thought, and I hold back a smile dying to bud on mylips.
“Yup.” I bat my lashes up at him, and I can feel the heat emanating off his body to mine. Dear God, would I ever love to tickle this beautiful side of beefcake. “And what are you going as? A white knight? Apickle?”
“A pickle?” He inches back as if I had offended him. We both know darn well he was a pickle in the eleventh grade. He blinks hard as if suddenly reliving the memory. “Dude, how many times do I have to tell you? I was acondom. It was a total rebellious stage I was going through, and I wanted to piss off the adults at Carmen Velasquez’s chaperonedevent.”
