Page 25 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series
MAVERICK
I wasn’t kidding when I didn’t want Bridget running off. Again. She bolted from the coffee shop. From the office the night before. And now.
Enough running.
I was going to end this sex quiz email shit once and for all and I needed her to agree that it was fixed.
There was no way to make my brothers or Bradley forget what they read in her quiz, but like I told Bridget, they weren’t assholes and would treat her with respect. If they didn’t, they would after I broke their noses.
When I went back in the house, I found the three of them sitting at the kitchen island.
“That was our lunch,” I said, spotting Bridget’s glasses where I’d left them next to the couch. I grabbed them and handed them to her over my shoulder as I went into the kitchen and set her on the counter by the deep farmer’s sink.
“You weren’t eating it,” Dex said with his mouth full, eyeing Bridget with surprise.
I leaned against the counter right next to Bridget, not leaving her side. Scout came over, nudged my shin with his nose. I leaned down to stroke his ear.
“That idiot is Dex,” I told Bridget.
“What?” he asked, licking a dollop of mayo off his lip. “I’m a growing boy.”
“He’s twenty-seven, not seven, although it’s hard to tell.”
He grinned and preened under the sarcasm and gave Bridget a wink.
I glared.
“The one eating all the chips is Silas.” He offered her a little wave. “The other is Theo.” I pointed at both of them.
“Silas and I kinda already met,” Bridget said, her voice soft.
I glared his way next, knowing he’d held her bra.
“This is Bridget Beckett,” I said, setting my hand on her knee.
Three sets of eyes followed the action, although based on the fact she’d run from the house in just a sheet they knew there was something going on between us. Something naked.
She offered a little finger wave, her glasses perched back upon her nose.
“I guess you never got to do that fantasy in the email,” Silas commented.
Bridget gasped and I lost my shit. I was beside him in two steps and had him hoisted off the stool before he had a chance to react. It slid across the hard wood, then tipped over with a loud clatter.
“Hey!” he shouted as I shoved him against the wall. “What the fuck?”
I heard the slide of the other stools, Dex and Theo standing. Scout barked.
“That was uncalled for,” I growled and gave him a shove, even though there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. “Apologize to Bridget. Now.”
I was right in his face and his eyes were wide with shock. I didn’t usually go off like this, especially with him, but he also shouldn’t be disrespectful.
“I’m sorry, Bridget,” he said, looking in her direction. “But for what? I mean, you wrote all sex stuff in a fucking email and I was messing with you.” His eyes, dark just like mine, shifted to me. “I didn’t take you for a butt plug kind of guy. Too uptight.”
“Si’s right,” Dex said from behind my back. “I’m not into knowing what you do with your dick, but your email was like reading a bunch of romance novels. Bridget, if he does half the stuff he wrote, you’re going to have some fun with my older brother.”
I let go of Silas and stepped back.
“Wait. You read my email?” I asked, setting my hands on my hips.
Silas adjusted his shirt, then gave a lazy smile.
“Yes, your email. Bradley sent it to me first thing this morning. He figured since you sent something like that to an employee–which is completely unlike you–it was like a secret message saying you’d been kidnapped and needed help.
I called Dex and Theo to come along and rescue you. ”
“Clearly he doesn’t need rescuing,” Theo said, his voice deadpan.
“Why do you need to write that shit down?” Dex asked. “Just do it like everyone else.”
Theo chuckled. “It’s been a while for him,” he told Dex, referencing me and my sparse dating history. “Maybe he had to write it down to remember. He is old.”
All three of them laughed and I glanced at Bridget.
This, I could take. I didn’t give a shit that they were making fun of me. She was smiling, somehow enjoying the stupid banter. I went over to her where she was still perched on the counter and settled right in front of her, set my hands on her thighs. Just touching her calmed me.
“They read my email,” I said, confirming she was following along.
She nodded, tucked her hair back.
I met her green eyes but spoke to the guys. “Bradley only sent you that one email?” I asked them.
“You wrote her more than one?” Silas asked. “If it involves animals or how you like to be pegged, I’m out.”
I took a deep breath, rolled my eyes, but focused on Bridget.
“They don’t know about mine,” she whispered.
I shook my head and leaned in close, my nose brushing over her ear.
“They wouldn’t say any of this shit if they knew how it all started.
I think you deleted yours before Bradley saw it.
Maybe he was eating dinner.” I shrugged, having no idea, but was relieved…
no, thrilled, mine was the only one he found.
“Yeah.”
“Earlier, when I answered the door and you overheard, it was my email they were talking about. Not yours. They’re here to give me shit.
Nothing to do with you. You good now?” I asked, pulling back so I could meet her eyes.
My thumbs stroked over the tops of her thighs. I couldn’t resist touching her.
She lifted her hand, cupped my jaw. I tilted my head, kissed the palm.
“I’m good,” she said, no longer whispering.
Thank fuck.
“I want to get rid of them and get back to what we were doing,” I said.
“We can hear you,” Dex said, the words garbled because he was eating again.
“You’re not getting rid of us, so go put a shirt on,” Silas added. “Sorry, Bridget.”
I winked at her, then went to get that shirt off the floor in the bedroom.
When I came back, she was perched on a stool between Silas and Dex, eating a section of sandwich and laughing at something Dex was saying.
“–as a businessman. And he held out a briefcase to put the candy in. Didn’t Farrah go as your secretary?”
He was talking about Halloween and me dressing up for trick or treating. I’d forgotten Farrah had done that.
“Who’s Farrah?” she asked, popping a barbecue flavored chip in her mouth.
“I grew up with her. Our parents are friends.”
I caught Silas’s look, but I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Farrah wasn’t anything more than a friend, no matter what he heard. I knew it. Farrah knew it. That was all that mattered.
“You weren’t even born when I did that,” I told Dex, reminding him that he was young as hell. Then I glanced at Bridget, who was even younger.
Five years younger.
Shit. I’d been in high school when she was born.
The guys caught on too but didn’t comment.
“What I don’t understand is why you wanted to be like Dad,” Dex continued.
I reached between him and Theo and snagged a section of sandwich from the counter. I’d bought several subs at the deli because I didn’t know what Bridget liked. With three extra mouths to feed, I was glad I did that.
“Because I didn’t know then how much of an asshole he was.”
“Our father was a dick,” Silas explained.
“Is your father a dick?” Dex asked. “I bet he’s not. You’re really nice, although there’s probably something wrong with you if you’re into Mav and not me. I’m younger. Cuter, too.”
“Jesus, Dex,” I muttered, going around the counter and leaning against it. They were using the four stools.
Bridget gave Dex a little eye waggle and a playful grin. “No. You’re right. My dad was a nice guy.”
We all picked up on the past tense. “Did he pass away?” Theo asked, using his soothing doctor voice.
She nodded. “When I was ten. My parents died in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” I said. I went around to her, scooped her up and hugged her close. There was nothing I could do to make it better, but she’d know I would comfort her. For a stunned moment, she was stiff in my hold, then she relaxed and hugged me back.
The guys offered murmurs of agreement.
I finally let her go, when all I wanted to do was toss her over my shoulder again and carry her off to some quiet, non-brother filled room. But I didn’t. I set her back on the stool and gave her room.
“Our father’s dead too,” Dex told her, as if he was telling her he also liked mustard.
“Did you get hit in the head during practice?” I asked. He had zero tact, but it had turned the conversation off of Bridget’s parents’ deaths.
“It’s the off-season,” he reminded. His summers, besides working out to stay in shape, were his own. But when training camp started in September, his life belonged to his team.
“Don’t listen to anything he says,” Silas told Bridget. “He plays professional ice hockey and obviously got hit by a puck a few too many times.”
“Wow. Which team?” she asked.
He told her and they started up a conversation about the sport. Silas looked over at me, then stood and started searching the cabinets. He found where the glasses were and filled one from the dispenser in the fridge door.
I followed him with a glass of my own. “I know what you’re thinking,” I whispered.
“What, that those two are better matched?” he whispered back.
“Scout’s less of a puppy than he is,” I replied. “She doesn’t need a puppy.”
No, she needed someone to give her gentle guidance. Reassurance. Orgasms.
Silas glanced at Dex and Bridget, how Dex was waving his arms around talking about carrying the Stanley Cup trophy, with Theo listening on, amused by our little brother’s antics.
I was ridiculously proud of Dex. We’d known he’d play professionally when he was ten and carried his PeeWee team to state champs.
He just had that ridiculous innate talent and was drafted out of college in Minnesota because of it.
“She doesn’t look at him like she looks at you,” he replied.
Bridget’s eyes widened and she laughed at Dex, then put her fingers over her lips. He had a knack for making any story sound exciting.
“How’s that?”
“Like he’s her brother and you’re her–”
“Don’t even say it,” I prompted. “I’m not that fucking old.”
He shrugged. “Fine. Doesn’t matter anyway. Daddy kink wasn’t on your quiz.”
Definitely not. Based on her response to the praise I doled out and being called a good girl, it made sense she was into someone so much older. Learning about her parents… I didn’t think she had a Daddy thing either. But she did crave reassurance. Affection. Approval.
Dex couldn’t give her what she needed, that was for fucking sure. He was too young for her, too into himself to pay close enough attention to her subtle tells. I saw them all and was working on responding to them correctly. It seemed in the past day I fucked up. A lot.
But she was here in my house, and she was meeting my brothers.
A big deal for a first unofficial date.
“I want to know what was on her quiz,” he said, pulling me from my thoughts.
I growled, backed it up with a glare, then said, “Only if you want to die.”
“So there really is one,” he added. He played me and got the answer he wanted. The fucker. “I figured as much. You wouldn’t share that shit in an email without a very good, and strategic, reason.”
“I just didn’t expect Bradley to be so good at his job,” I muttered.
I would make sure he only worked regular business hours from now on so I could fuck up without anyone knowing.
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