Dream Lover by Stacey Keith

Author:Stacey Keith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-01-09T15:19:20+00:00

Chapter 13

There were a lot of firsts.

The one that gut-punched Brandon the hardest was knowing how much he enjoyed being around April. As in, they weren’t having sex—yet—but he still liked having her with him.

That had never happened before. It had always been less talking, more taking your clothes off. You got in, you got out, you got gone.

The other first was trusting her not to turn psycho. Trusting any woman. That was tougher to figure out. He’d learned a long time ago that life was a fight for survival. You couldn’t depend on anyone. His mother, for instance. She’d never done a fucking thing for him and Matt.

But he couldn’t keep his eyes off April. That bothered him. Even now as she leaned her elbows on the security fence and watched the riders, he kept glancing at her, fascinated by the way her pale blond hair spilled over her shoulders. Maybe it was because she was so totally honest and had nothing to hide, she didn’t even wear makeup. She was one of those rare women—what did Long Jon call them?—soap-and-water beauties. Only in April’s case, she had no idea she was beautiful.

Brandon understood the type of woman who employed her beauty like a weapon. Who used it for power. But April never had that defiant gleam in her eyes, the one demanding that every man adore her.

Soap-and-water beauties. Long Jon always had a bit of the poet in him, Brandon thought in amusement. Hell, he was getting just as bad, thinking about this shit. It was like living out song lyrics.

Right now, he had a race to win, even if it was just the preseason. Brandon braced his elbows on the fence next to April. The smell of motorcycle fuel was almost better than the smell of sex. As crazy as it seemed, a feeling of deep contentment washed over him. His brother was racing, his best friend was buying the beer and his instincts about April weren’t telling him to run like hell.

A man couldn’t ask for much more than that.

“The beer line was one giant suck fest,” Long Jon said as he walked up with three foamy cups in his hands. “Fucking prices, too. They really bend you over in a place like this.” He darted his eyes toward April. “Beg pardon. I got a rough way of speaking sometimes.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” April told him, accepting her beer. “I’ve been told way worse right to my face.”

By my own brother, Brandon remembered with mild pride. Matt had come a long way from the scared, skinny kid he’d been three years ago.

April examined the contents of her plastic cup. “That’s a lot of beer. Someone’s going to have to finish this for me.”

“I had a buddy once who fixed himself up a motorcycle helmet,” Long Jon said. “Had a special hose on it that fed the beer straight to his mouth. Coulda made a fortune if he’d lived long enough to see it through.”

“What happened to him?” April asked, plainly horrified.

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