Page 2 of The Sunday Brothers Novellas

My eyes flew open, and I found a tall guy in a snap-back hat watching me with an awestruck look that quickly faded into embarrassment when I met his gaze.

“Holy mother of fuck!” I exclaimed, scrambling back further against the mailboxes. “Where’d you come from?”

From my daydreams, apparently. The man was tall and solid, deliciously thick in all the right places, with shoulders that stretched his Hannabury College sweatshirt and thighs that strained the seams of his otherwise baggy khaki pants.

A flush climbed his cheeks beneath his thick beard, and he looked down at his boots nervously.

“Teagan?” Fern asked in concern.

“Sorry,” he said in that same deep voice.

He held up his hands to show me he was unarmed except for his keys.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, and I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

I’m just here to… “ He made a vague, anxious motion toward me where I leaned against the mailboxes. “But you know what? I… I can come back. You look busy.” He nodded to himself. “Yeah, okay. I’m gonna leave now?—”

“Oh my God!” I squealed, putting the pieces together—the way the guy was standing there, watching me, had to mean he was there for me . Or, at least, for my sofa.

Jace hadn’t forgotten about me after all. I was saved!

“No, wait, stop! Don’t leave!” I cried. Into the phone, I said, “Fern? I’ve gotta go. Fate has sent me a knight in shining armor after all!”

The guy blinked in surprise, but when he saw my smile, he smiled back, tentatively at first and then gloriously , transforming his whole face from fairly attractive to breath-stealingly, blindingly handsome.

His eyes were a deep, soft brown and crinkled at the corners like he was used to laughing a lot , and his whole personality just magnified peace and gladness, the way a prism turned sunlight into rainbows.

How incredible , I thought, would it be to be the reason this man with the soft eyes smiled?

How amazing would it feel to bask in his sunshine?

“Wow-ow-ow,” I breathed, and the all-consuming feeling of rightness in my gut gave the words a little shudder. “Wow.”

“No. No ! Teagan Donahue, you stop this shit right now,” Fern said impatiently in my ear. “Fate’s name is Jace Donahue, and you told me he once waterboarded your Barbie doll in the toilet.”

“He’s forgiven,” I said breathlessly, staring at the man in front of me with hearts in my eyes.

“Jesus Christ, you’re even doing that weird stutter-breathing thing. Can I call 9-1-1 for an emergency involving my friend being an utter dumbass who cannot learn lessons? Would I request an ambulance or the police?”

“Fire department,” I whispered, because I legitimately felt like I was burning up.

I had never felt this way before—not about any guy I’d ever met, let alone any guy I’d ever dated.

This guy was holding my gaze, and I’d swear I could feel the electrons zip-zip-zipping between us, like we were two halves of the same?—

“Teagan,” Fern said severely. “If you never listen to a single thing I say ever again, listen to me now. You cannot jump into something with the man who’s come to move your sofa out of the apartment you shared with the last guy you jumped into a relationship with.

This is not love! It might be infatuation.

It’s probably lust. It’s almost definitely rebounding with a capital R .

It’s… Jesus fuck, I don’t even know what it is, but it’s unhealthy, and you’ve been wrong before! Remember the buds of love?”

I blinked as Fern’s words finally penetrated the haze around me and hit me like a blast of icy water. I stood up straighter. “What? No. This isn’t… that. I’m a desiccated husk now. I told you.”

But I couldn’t make my eyes move away from the gorgeous man, who was shifting his weight a little nervously from foot to foot, probably because I was being a total creeper.

God .

I forced myself to look away. “Things are fine,” I told Fern. “Everything is great. Don’t worry.”

“They’re so not fine.” Fern sounded resigned.

“You’re gonna convince yourself you love this guy, because you won’t be able to help yourself, then one of you will end up with your heart broken, because even if the Self-Preservation Fairy appeared in front of you right now, you wouldn’t take his gift.

” She sighed gustily. “Anyway. I love you, but my break is over, and the line is out the door. See you at work tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed before hanging up. “Sorry about that,” I told the guy, motioning toward my phone. “My friend Fern.” I leaned toward him confidingly. “She’s a bit dramatic, but I love her.”

“She is, huh?” The guy’s mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. “Look, I…”

“God, I’m so glad to see you!” I blurted. I blew out a relieved breath. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve been waiting forever for you, and I worried you weren’t coming, and— Is the traffic bad out there?”

“You are?” He blinked. “I mean, you…? I mean… no. I didn’t find it too bad. It’s still early yet.” He frowned out at the street. “Wait, are you…”

“God, sorry. I’m Teagan,” I confirmed, pressing a hand to my chest. “And I promise I’m not usually this…” I threw my hands in the air. “Discombobulated. It’s been a trying week.”

“Yeah.” The guy nodded sympathetically. “It sure sounded like it.”

Right. I winced. He’d overheard all the best parts of my phone call.

“But it’s gonna be great,” I assured him quickly. “I’m going to focus on the positive, starting now.”

“Yeah?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “My mom says that’s the secret to life.”

“Your mom is wise.” I grinned. “For example… I have sweet friends who love me despite my penchant for charming philosophical conundrums. ”

He tilted his head, the smile playing around his mouth again. “Philosophical?—?”

“Pick one: guacamole without chips or chips without guac?”

“I don’t…” He tilted his head in the opposite direction. “What?”

“Never mind. Irrelevant.” I waved a hand dismissively and continued my list. “I also have a friend of a friend who just happened to get an amazing work opportunity in Finland, right at the moment my ex-boyfriend doubled down on being an utter jerk.”

The guy blinked at the change of subject. “Yeah? That’s cool.” After a second, he offered, “I know a guy from Finland.”

We had so much in common! I beamed at him. “Best of all, now I have you. My hero.”

The man’s expression blanked. “Me? Oh. I’m afraid I’m not… No.”

“Don’t be modest. I’m truly grateful that you’re here.

I was getting kind of desperate,” I admitted.

“Hey, what’s your name, by the way? Jace didn’t mention it—shocking, right?

—and I figure the epic poem I write about your heroism will be more compelling if I’m not referring to you as Snap-Back-Hat-Guy.

” I grinned and joked, “The rhyming would be tricky.”

“Oh.” He touched the hat on his head, which made his sweatshirt ride up just enough for me to see the dark hair on his stomach. Yum . “It’s John?” He cleared his throat and said more decisively, “John Curran.”

“John Curran,” I repeated. Possibly the most boring name ever. Way too boring for such a beautiful, sweet man. But it was simple and honest, and I liked it. “Well, at least I’ll have no trouble spelling it. Alrighty, then. Shall we go collect my couch?”

“Your couch,” he repeated flatly, like he’d never heard the words before. He squinted at me slightly, but his extreme confusion did nothing to make him less attractive.

“Jesus, Jace.” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. Of course my brother hadn’t given the man pertinent details. Probably hadn’t told him the right time to show up, either. “You didn’t even know what you were going to be moving today, did you?”

John shook his head slowly… almost warily. “I definitely didn’t.”

“It’s a couch—the world’s best couch, by the by—and we need to move it into my new apartment.

” I pointed upstairs. “I was able to haul the rest of my stuff over here with my little Nissan earlier this afternoon, but the sofa is over at my old apartment—my ex-boyfriend’s apartment—so we need to… Oh, shit.”

If Jace hadn’t told this guy what he was moving…

I laid a hand on his arm. “Please tell me you at least have a truck or something?” I begged. “Because if you don’t…”

“I… I do, actually.” He looked down at the keys in his hand, then at my arm on his sleeve, then back at me, like he was coming to a decision. He nodded firmly. “I can help you get your couch if you want.”

Sweet relief pulsed through me. “I very much want.” I swept a hand toward the door. “Lead the way.”

Martin was at his most Martin that afternoon, answering the door wearing a silky dressing gown I’d never seen before and carrying an honest-to-God martini , like some kind of alternate-universe Hugh Hefner…

if Hugh were a balding, thirty-something pension administrator who didn’t comprehend fine furnishings or the concept of monogamy.

“Teagan,” he chided before I could get a word in. “I’ve been worried sick. You ran off the other day and never said when you’d be home, and you didn’t answer my texts until this morning when you said you were coming by. Tsk . We need to talk.”

I looked back at John—still wearing his hat, his sweatshirt, his unfortunate khakis, and a sweet, steady expression.

Then I looked at the man in front of me—the appearance of wealth he was trying to project, the carefully styled hair that barely concealed his receding hairline, the way he started out the conversation with accusations that would make me react or likely over react so he could gain the upper hand—and I had a moment right there in that hall.

You know the part of Cinderella where she’s running down the steps and suddenly all the magical glamour drops away and she’s staring at a couple of rats and a pumpkin?

Martin was that pumpkin. Okay… maybe he was the rats. And all I could think was “Holy shit. Fern was right.”

And right on the heels of that, “Holy shit. I’ve been such a fool.”