“Moonshine,” I whispered against her head. I had no idea where that name came from, only that once I said it, I knew it was perfect for her.
Monroe had an aura of darkness that lingered around her. Not because she was a bad person. In all honesty, she was one of the kindest, smartest, over all best people I knew. Though it was her past, her pain and grief, and all the misfortunes she had to overcome that marked her. Scars that never healed instead were faultily stitched together, ready to tear at the seams with the slightest tug.
She’d lost her mother and father at such a young age, taken in by her oldest brother, who did the best he could, though could never fully replace the gaping hole the abandonment of her parents left in her. Slowly, one by one, her brothers distanced themselves from this town. It had been nothing but trouble for them, only coming back every so often except my ex-best friend Nash, who stayed gone longer than he should’ve for other reasons.
Somehow, she was still one of the brightest souls I'd ever come across. Those who knew Monroe Bishop knew her as a light at the end of a dark tunnel. A glistening light illuminatinga dark path. She provided the comfort, warmth and kindness everyone craved, but was never shown to her.
She’d been around my family for a long time, but it took me far longer than it should’ve to see past the walls she kept up for everyone else and through to the vulnerable, broken girl she truly was.
I tried my hardest not to make any noise or sudden movements, but as her body shifted, her eyes slowly opened to reveal the mesmerizing dark blue sapphires that sparkled when she spoke, I had to break the awkward silence that was to come.
“As much as I want to be inside you, darling, comatose is not my kink.”
Monroe sat up abruptly, her hand flying to her head in a flurry. I’m sure it throbbed from the copious amounts of tequila she’d ingested the night before, or worse, the regret that was about to hit her like a wave of icy water crawling up her spine and paralyzing her with guilt.
Without saying a word, she leapt out of bed, taking the sheet with her once she realized she was completely naked. Bending forward and giving me a glimpse of her perfect bare ass, since she would never locate her thong which was currently tucked into the pocket of my jeans, she plucked her skirt from the floor, struggling to slip into it with one hand as she held the sheet against her body with the other. She slid it up to her waist before bending down to pick up the shirt that was now a tattered mess of fabric on the floor.
“Sorry about that. Might’ve been a little too eager to get you out of it,” I joked, but she didn’t find it funny in the slightest. Instead, her cold blue eyes glared daggers in my direction.
I’d torn the small shirt, if you could even call it a shirt, when we first got back to the room. It’s what made her order me to sit down and watch her strip out of the rest of her clothing.
Holding the shirt up in front of her, she stared at the tattered mess, and the glare she threw my way spoke volumes. She cursed herself and looked around the room until she came across my plain white T-shirt thrown over the small armchair at the edge of the window.
Careful not to drop the sheet, she walked over to the window, pulled the shirt off of the chair, and slipped it over her head. She paused, one arm halfway through the sleeve of the T-shirt as she spoke. “I have to get out of here.”
I was tempted to joke with her, but something about the way she stared at me made me think that was a bad idea. I wasn't typically this playful, but something about Monroe kept making me do things I wouldn't typically do.
“You don’t have to sneak out,” I said, as I sat up slowly and rubbed my hand over my face and through the overgrown stubble. I tried to stay as clean-shaven as possible, but as the memory of my beard rubbing against her inner thighs flashed in my mind, I’m not sure I’d ever shave it off. I could still smell her on me. The sweet and musky scent of her arousal coated my skin, lips and tongue.
“Yes, I do. I need to get out of here. This was…Oh God, what did I do?” She said in a panic as she paced back and forth in a desperate attempt to understand what had occurred here last night.
I hadn’t thought she was drunk enough not to remember.
I masked my unease again with unsolicited humor. “Yeah, you cried out the Almighty Father's name a few times last night, if I recall correctly. Though not as many times as you screamed out mine.”
She cringed, unable to look me in the eye as she continued to look for her things. “Right, well, that’s never going to happen again. We were drunk, and I think it’s best if we don’t make this more complicated than it has to be.”
I wanted to agree with her, but something in her expression darkened, a flicker of emotion I wasn’t quite sure how to explain. Now fully dressed, in her skirt and my T-shirt that looked way too fucking good on her and made me feel some type of way, she reached for her small purse. Her eyes went wide in horror when she looked up at me and realized I was still fully naked, but I saw a glimpse of desire flash in them before she looked away. She tossed the sheet toward me, but I didn’t shield my naked body with it. I liked the way her skin flushed as she gazed my way in her periphery, even if she wanted to pretend she wasn’t looking.
“You’re Bailey’s brother,” she muttered as she turned and ran out the room.
Chapter Four
Jase
Present
I never considered the possibility that a woman's stare could be so intense it would leave me feeling like I was set on fire. Monroe’s piercing glare beneath her long, dark lashes is setting my soul ablaze with an intensity that ignites me from the inside out. And it isn’t even eight in the morning.
I woke up at the crack of dawn. Worse, I barely slept a wink, knowing Monroe was upstairs in the guest bedroom I prepared for her when she moved in. The need to make sure she was okay up there was so strong it almost caused me to do the unthinkable and go see for myself how she was doing.
My house isn’t the biggest on the property, but it’s large enough there will be plenty of room for the two of us to keep the distance she so desperately craves, and keeps reminding me she needs. It was the one thing she made me promise before agreeing to move in with me.
If only she knew I am the best at breaking promises.
My master bedroom is downstairs. Not typically what you see in most homes, but when we built this property around sevenyears ago, I knew I wanted the entire first floor for myself. When you first enter through the large wooden front door, you’re met with a large staircase leading up to the second floor, and behind it a spacious living room with an open floor concept leading to the kitchen and dining room to the right. To the left of the living room, you have a half bathroom for guests, though I don’t have many, a home gym, a small office, and my bedroom ensuite.
Upstairs are two smaller guest bedrooms that have remained furnished yet vacant until now, one with a full bathroom and another half bath with only a shower. My brother Camden and his wife stayed in one when they came for Thanksgiving last month, after moving a few hours away. I’ll have to let him know they won’t be able to stay with me when they come for Christmas next week, since their bedroom is now occupied by the mother of my child.
