Guts & Glory: Brick (In the Shadows Security Book 6) Read online

  “Fiction.”

  “I have to meet her!” Londyn exclaimed, pretending to be super excited. “I love to read. Maybe she edited some of my favorites.”

  “Maybe,” Kramer mumbled.

  “Is she home?” Londyn asked.

  Brick’s finger’s dug into her shoulder. He didn’t want her to push Kramer too hard. The man hadn’t even invited them in and probably wouldn’t, so they needed to move slowly.

  “She’s not.”

  Londyn’s face dropped. “Oh, too bad.” She twisted her head toward Brick. “Honey, maybe we can have them over for dinner this week. I’d love to make a new friend. Especially one I can talk books with.”

  Brick gave her a look, plastered on a smile and glanced at Kramer. “Absolutely. I love to grill. I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Chris... Chris Kramer.”

  Brick dropped his arm from Londyn’s shoulders and held his hand out to Kramer. “Seamus Ramsey.”

  Kramer shook his hand. “Interesting name, Seamus.”

  “It’s an old family name. So, dinner? Tomorrow night?”

  Kramer only hesitated for a few seconds before tipping his head and saying, “We’ll swing by after the market closes. Should we bring anything?”

  “Just yourselves,” Londyn said again with a wink.

  What was with the fucking winking?

  “Sounds like a plan. Okay, muffin, time for us to let this man get back to his business. We’ve bothered him long enough and we have more neighbors to meet.”

  “Please tell Barb I look forward to meeting her,” Londyn said and snagged Brick’s hand.

  Kramer nodded and shut the door.

  “Seamus?” Brick whispered fiercely as he tugged Londyn from the stoop and began to drag her back to the house.

  “Gertrude? Do I look like a Gertie? That’s a cow’s name!”

  “It’s better than Seamus.”

  “Why couldn’t we just use our real names?”

  “We’re undercover! And Londyn isn’t the most common of names.”

  “Then you should’ve warned me, and I would have picked a more appropriate name! And ‘muffin?’ Who uses that?”

  Brick shrugged as he unlocked the front door and pushed her inside, slamming it behind him. “An IT nerd.”

  “I dated an IT nerd before, and he never once called me ‘muffin.’”

  Before she could walk deeper into the house and away from him, he snagged her wrist and pulled her until her back was pressed to the front door.

  He stepped close enough their shirts lightly touched and tipped his face to hers. “You did good,” he said softly.

  She gave him a beaming smile. “Of course, I did. I’m a natural. I should be an actress.”

  One side of his mouth lifted. “What’s natural is what ol’ Kramer-boy was checking out.”

  “Which was?”

  He jerked his chin toward her chest. “Your tits.”

  Her gaze dropped down to her cleavage and bounced back up. “Is that a good thing?”

  “His very obvious interest may give us another angle if we need it.”

  Londyn scrunched up her face. Which Brick had to admit, it was pretty fucking cute. “He kills his wife, shacks up with his girlfriend and then is checking out other women all in a span of what? Not even two years? That’s almost as gross as the four point two million women you slept with.”

  His head snapped back. “I didn’t sleep with four point two million women.”

  “Okay then, how many?”

  Jesus, this woman. “I didn’t keep track.”

  “Yes, because if you had kept track with notches in your bedpost, it would look like a beaver ate your bed. But that also means you can’t actually say with certainty it wasn’t four point two million. Hopefully, you wrapped it tight when you did them all, stud.”

  “I always wrap it tight, muffin. And I get tested regularly.”

  She pursed her lips as she studied him. He had both palms planted on the door on either side of her head. Was she reconsidering sleeping with him? Because he sure as fuck hoped so.

  “Did I tell you that you look hot in those glasses?”

  He lowered his head until his lips were right above hers. “Not in those words.”

  She pressed a hand to his chest. “I haven’t changed my mind, I...”

  “You?” he prodded in a whisper.

  Her fingers fisted in his polo shirt and she jerked him forward. Their lips crashed together and before she could take control of the kiss, he did. He swept his tongue through her mouth and they tangled and tasted.

  Removing his hands from the door, he drove his fingers into her hair on both sides of her head, holding her still and taking the kiss even deeper.

  A groan bubbled up between them. He was pretty sure it was from her and took that as a sign to continue.

  With one hand she continued to grip his shirt while the fingers of her other hand dug at his waist. She wasn’t pushing him away. No, she was pulling him closer. He also took that as a sign to proceed.

  He gave her what she wanted and pressed his hips into hers.

  And that’s when she pulled her head back enough to end their kiss.

  “It’s a shame we’re not going to have sex,” she whispered on a shaky breath.

  Yes, it was.

  His cock was throbbing, and he did everything in his power not to thrust against her. She was warm and soft, her face flushed. Her blue eyes were hooded, her nipples unmistakably peaked under her shirt.

  Fuck. Way too tempting.

  He had no doubt she wanted to have sex.

  For someone so impulsive, she was holding out.

  But he was proven wrong when her hand wrapped around the back of his head, almost knocking off his glasses as she said, “Just one more.”

  She rose on her toes and kissed him again.

  Instead of taking control this time, he let her have it. It was up to her whether she wanted to change her mind, not him.

  All she had to do was say the word.

  She swept her tongue through his mouth once more and then backed off, sighing softly.

  All she had to do was say the word.

  While he waited for that word, he ran his nose down her jawline and tucked his face into her neck. “You smell so fucking good.”

  And he waited for that word.

  He ran his lips over her pounding pulse, more proof she wanted the same thing he did.

  But she still remained silent.

  In the end, she was going to fucking slay him.

  By not giving in. By not pushing him away.

  By remaining undecided.

  He wouldn’t push her, no matter what.

  Did he want her? Fuck yes.

  Did he want her running to Rissa afterward? Fuck no. That would create tension within his team.

  She needed to be the one to say yes. To say it was what she wanted.

  And like he said earlier, they would have to agree to keep it classified.

  But right now, they simply stood there. Londyn, with her back to the door, staring at his throat. And him, still pressed against her, his erection wilting more with every passing moment.

  It was weird, the feeling he got when Kramer showed interest in Londyn. It was only natural he’d want to protect her. Especially from a man who had most likely murdered his wife. But it was more than that.

  From the second she burst through the door during their poker game, something about her pulled at him.

  He’d been attracted to Rissa when Mercy brought her home to Shadow Valley a couple years back. And at first, he thought his attraction to Londyn was because she reminded him of Rissa. But since arriving in Florida yesterday, he realized, again, it was more than that.

  The urge to kiss her once more overwhelmed him and was another unfamiliar feeling that surprised him. While he sometimes kissed the women he hooked up with, he never felt the urge to do it. A kiss hello, a kiss goodbye, a few kisses during their “date.” />
  This was different. He wanted her to melt against him. He wanted to hear those noises she made with those first two kisses. He wanted to feel her fingers digging into his flesh as she pulled him closer because she wanted the same thing.

  And all those wants were strange to him, too.

  The problem was, not much more than a month ago, she was in love with another man. One who betrayed her.

  And he knew that hurt.

  He didn’t want to hurt her, either. Hooking up with her while on the rebound might do that. Which, again, could cause tension amongst their team. Mercy would be pissed and so would Rissa. Mercy took it personally if anyone pissed off his woman, so that needed to be avoided at all costs.

  Which meant, he shouldn’t kiss Londyn again.

  So, he didn’t. Instead, she kissed him one more time.

  His fingers curled in her hair, gripping it tightly as hers gripped his face. And after a few seconds she did exactly what he had hoped... melted against him. He pinned her tighter to the door to keep her upright and by doing so, there was no doubt she knew how much he wanted her. Because his cock was once again hard for her.

  She groaned into his mouth and, fuck, if he didn’t want to pick her up, carry her upstairs and get her naked.

  He wanted to see her without the bathing suit. Without the silky PJ’s. Without the hot pink polo shirt and boring khaki shorts.

  He wanted to explore and taste every inch of her. He wanted to sink into her wet heat. He wanted to hear her cry out when she orgasmed. And he wanted to feel her ripple around him when she did so.

  And if he did all that?

  He might be screwed.

  He didn’t find her on Tinder, or Fling, or any of the other hookup apps he trolled. Where sex was just a transaction between two people looking for the same thing.

  Hello. Fuck. Goodbye.

  No ties to anyone he knew. No obligation to sit across the table and eat breakfast with that person. No explanations to people he knew.

  Simple.

  Londyn would not be simple.

  His pocket vibrating was a good wake-up call. He reluctantly stepped back from Londyn, whose eyes were unfocused, lips swollen, and that flush in her cheeks even darker now.

  It wouldn’t take much convincing to take it further.

  He pulled out his phone and glanced at the name of the caller.

  Yep. His phone ringing was a damn good wake-up call.

  Mercy was calling.

  Thank fuck.

  Chapter Six

  Londyn sighed softly. Her back was to Brick, and she was trying desperately to ignore the heat coursing through her veins. But her thoughts kept going back to their three kisses against the door earlier.

  During those kisses, she went back and forth whether she should encourage him to take it further.

  It was like tug-o-war in her head. Or like the devil on her right shoulder encouraging her to be bad, while the angel on her left shoulder was encouraging her to be good.

  But then his phone rang, and he walked away to take the call in private. From there she had gone upstairs, got into her bathing suit and swam a few laps to cool off. It helped her get through dinner and the rest of the evening while she read and he played on his phone while watching TV.

  Maybe he had been “swiping right” and looking for a local hookup. She couldn’t imagine he went for very long without one.

  She had gone to bed before him but was too restless to sleep. Once she heard his footsteps, she had turned over and gave him her back, hoping to not be tempted to continue what they had started earlier downstairs.

  They both knew it was a bad idea.

  But they both wanted it anyway.

  She might never get a chance to sleep with someone who looked like Brick again. He might be her unicorn.

  What if, for the rest of her life, she was stuck with only Kevins? Not that there was anything wrong with a Kevin—as long as he wasn’t leading a double life—but he wasn’t a Brick.

  She guessed men dreamed about bagging a “ten” at least once in their life. Why couldn’t women hope for the same?

  This could be Londyn’s only opportunity. One she couldn’t pass up.

  No one had to know.

  No one but them.

  They were two consenting adults, right?

  This whole sexual indecision was stressing her out more than the idea of getting cozy with and spying on a murderer.

  With another sigh, she rolled onto her back and turned her head to study Brick’s broad, bare back, the way the covers draped over his hips and his long legs.

  She rolled again, this time to her side, facing him. She tentatively reached out and ran her fingers lightly along the deep indentation of his spine.

  Muscle. Everything about him was pure muscle. When she got to the small of his back, the two dimples above his ass, just barely visible above the covers, intrigued her.

  She pressed the pad of her thumb softly against one, amazed how it fit in the little depression perfectly.

  Brick shifted and tensed, and muttered a “No.”

  She couldn’t see his face, so she wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep. But before Londyn could remove her hand, he began to repeat the word over and over, getting louder each time until he breathed a final ragged, “No, goddamn it,” before becoming quiet.

  She removed her hand from his back and turned to give him hers again. She wasn’t sure if he was awake and telling her no, he didn’t want her to touch him, or having a nightmare.

  But either way, it was a splash of cold water and a good reminder once again that the two of them having sex was a bad idea.

  She slipped from the bed and went to sleep in one of the spare bedrooms where temptation would be a lot less.

  Brick hit the bottom step and instead of going straight outside for his run, he changed direction and headed toward the kitchen. When he woke up last night in a sweat, Londyn was no longer in bed with him. Since the light was off in the master bathroom, he had gotten up and headed down the hallway, wondering where she had gone.

  He found her sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms. Another strange feeling overcame him. Disappointment. Disappointment she had abandoned his bed and he had no idea why. While he had wanted to carry her back where she belonged, he didn’t.

  Maybe he’d been snoring or too restless for her to sleep.

  In the kitchen, he saw her leaning back against the counter, wearing that fucking silkie thing she wore to bed that he wanted to rip off her, with a steaming coffee mug raised to her lips.

  Her blue eyes flicked to him, then back to whatever she’d been staring at previously.

  “You moved out last night.” He tried to keep his tone even, to pretend it hadn’t bothered him.

  She took a sip of coffee. “Mmm hmm.”

  That was Ms. Talkative’s answer? Only a mmm hmm? “Why?”

  “I figured it’s for the best.”

  “It’s? Not ‘it was?’ Does that mean it’s permanent?”

  “For as long as we’re here.”

  “Londyn...”

  “It’s for the best.”

  Her tone indicated he should leave it at that. Well, fuck that. “You haven’t told me why yet.” He shouldn’t give a shit why. He should be celebrating the fact he finally got the big master bedroom to himself.

  But, for fuck’s sake, he did give a shit.

  “Do I need a reason to not want to sleep in the same bed with a man who is not my... who I’m not intimate with?”

  Fuck. “No.” He studied her for a few seconds and when she didn’t say anything else or even look at him, he asked, “Why the change of heart? You wanted that room, that bathroom.”

  She took another sip of coffee and continued to stare over his shoulder as he moved closer. “I did.”

  “I’ll make you a deal. You can have the room if you don’t want to share it, and I’ll move into the spare bedroom but only if you tell me why.”

  She dropped her gaze to
her bare feet, her coffee mug clenched within her fingers.

  He carefully pulled the mug from her and placed it on the counter, then lifted her chin with his index finger.

  Was she blushing?

  Her gaze slid to the side to avoid his.

  “Hey, the room is yours. Just talk to me.” This was not a way to start a marriage, fake or otherwise. “We need to be convincing, Londyn, and you not being honest or open with me—”

  “You told me no.”

  He pulled his head back and stared down into her face. She was now meeting his eyes, her stubbornness returning in spades.

  “I told you no,” he repeated, running a hand over his chin.

  “When I touched you last night.”

  “You touched me last night,” he repeated, even more confused than before. “Uh... I’m pretty sure I’d remember you fucking touching me, Londyn. In fact, if you did, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have said no.”

  “You not only said no, but you said it adamantly several times.”

  During the night he had woken up in a sweat after one of his nightmares. Had she touched him while he was reliving the time he wished he could forget?

  “If I said no, baby, it wasn’t to you. I swear. I was probably just having a dream.”

  “You didn’t say no until I touched you.”

  “Coincidence.”

  “Was it?”

  “Do you want proof? Touch me now that I’m wide awake.”

  “We said we’d keep our hands to ourselves,” she reminded him with an arch of an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, well, we keep failing at that promise.”

  She didn’t say anything for the longest moment, but he could see her thoughts turning as she considered his suggestion. He was relieved when the tension seemed to leave her. “Do you know you have two dimples right above your ass?”

  He grinned. “No, show me where.” He didn’t even bother to sound convincing in that lie.

  She knew it was a lie, but she played along, anyway.

  And, fuck him, she wanted to touch him, so he wasn’t saying no. No fucking way.

  He wished he would’ve woken up last night when she reached out to him. But they could make up for lost time, if she was willing.

  “Turn around,” she whispered, her eyes no longer vacant but heated.