Okay, so not total privacy. But maybe semiprivate would work.
Brooke put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said quietly as she stepped around her friend. “I know him.”
Alex leaned down to whisper, “I don’t like him.” Of course, her whispering wasn’t exactly quiet and, given Flash’s smirk, it was clear he’d heard.
Yeah, neither would Crissy Bonner. The record label executives would love Flash, though—a showy pro-rodeo cowboy would be great for PR.
But she didn’t want Flash to be a public relations bonanza. She wanted...hell. She didn’t know what she wanted. Except for some privacy. She owed him that much.
“It’s fine. Can you wait in the car?”
Alex glared at Flash and growled. But then she said, “Fine—but only for a few minutes,” as she took the guitar case from Brooke.
Then he did the ballsy thing and approached Alex. “Hi. Flash Lawrence. And you are?”
Alex gave him a look that made lesser men turn tail and run, but Flash held his ground. He wasn’t a coward, that much was for certain.
With a quick look at Brook, Alex said, “Alex Andrews. Don’t try anything funny.” She jabbed a finger in Flash’s direction and pointedly did not shake his hand.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. As Brooke can tell you, I don’t have a sense of humor.” She couldn’t help the smile that danced over her lips at that bold-faced lie. She remembered quite well how easily she’d laughed with Flash. It would’ve been one thing if he’d just been amazing between the sheets. But he’d been so dang easy to be with—kind and funny and tender and hot and...
He’d made her like him.
She’d liked him a good deal. Seeing all those news headlines about his violent temper and plea deals had felt like a betrayal, almost.
Because she’d been wrong about him.
Had any of it been real?
Flash stood his ground as Alex crowded into his personal space on her way to the car. The one with the baby bucket-seat base in the back seat. True, there was a blanket thrown over it because God forbid anyone should notice that Brooke Bonner had a child restraint system in her car, but still. Hard evidence of Bean was practically within line of sight.
How was she supposed to do this, damn it?
Because Flash looked so much better in person than he did in her dreams. Maybe it was just the jacket. But maybe it was him. There was something almost...calm about him.
With a huff, Alex slammed the driver’s side door. It wasn’t like Brooke and Flash were alone—the door to the Bluebird’s kitchen was still propped open and Kyle might come out at any second. But for this brief moment, she and Flash had something resembling privacy.
“You look great,” Flash began.
Brooke barely managed to avoid rolling her eyes even as the compliment sent a thrill through her. She was still at least one size above where she’d been before she’d gotten pregnant, and her mother was pushing her hard to lose the last of the baby weight so people wouldn’t get suspicious. To know she looked okay was a relief.
No, no—she was not falling for superficial compliments. Because that was just the generic sort of statement that any man trying to get laid would open up with.
“What do you want, Flash?”
Please don’t say something romantic ran through her mind in the key of G at the exact same moment say something romantic did the same thing in harmony. She’d have to write that down later—could be a good hook.
Flash whipped off his hat and launched the smile at her that had melted her heart—and other parts—so long ago. “I wanted to see you again, but I get the feeling that you’re not exactly happy with me right now.”
“You picked up on that, did you?”
“It was subtle,” he replied, that easy grin on his lips, “but I did notice a little anger in those songs.”
“Well, your powers of deduction are in fine form.” She made a move to step around him, but he mirrored her movements. “What, Flash? I’m tired.”
“I want to apologize,” he said, moving closer.
She inhaled sharply. This sounded like a trap. “Oh? And what, exactly, are you apologizing for?”
“Don’t know. But—” he went on when Brooke scoffed heartily “—clearly I hurt you and, judging by the songs I heard tonight—which were great—I hurt you badly. So let me apologize, Brooke.”
Lord, did he have to sound so damned earnest about it? She almost wished he was cocky and overconfident. This would be so much easier if he was trying to talk his way into her panties again. This time, she’d be ready for him. This time, she wouldn’t make a mistake.
But, no—the cocky cowboy she’d taken to bed was nowhere to be seen, and in his place stood a serious man staring at her with so much longing and tenderness that, if Brooke allowed herself to think about it at all, he might take her breath away. So she didn’t think about it.
“Fine. Apology accepted. Good night, Flash.”
“Brooke,” he said, her name a whisper on his lips. “I’ve missed you so much and the hell of it is, I don’t know why.”
“Really?” she snapped at him. Anger was great. Anger was not being seduced by his sweet words or intense looks. Anger was reminding her exactly who he was—a smooth talker with a violent streak—and, more importantly, who she was. He’d gotten her pregnant and she’d had to deal with the fallout without him because she couldn’t trust him. Her whole life had been upended because of this man because she’d fallen for his sweet words and right now, he wasn’t even that smooth at the talking. “That’s not an apology, Flash. That’s an insult.”
“Would you listen?” he said, a warning in his voice. But then the weirdest thing happened—he took a step back and drew in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “What I mean to say is, you were amazing—gorgeous and funny and smart and so easy to be with, and I’d be a fool not to want more of that. With you,” he added quickly.
She snorted again, crossing her arms in front of her chest as different harmonies for don’t say something romantic played in her mind.
“We had one night. A one-night stand, as you so eloquently put it.” He ran a hand through his hair and then looked at her again, and this time the need in his eyes really did take her breath away. “That was all it was supposed to be, damn it, and...and it wasn’t. Not for me. I wanted more with you then and I want more with you now.”
“That’s all well and good, Flash, but it’s not enough. Not for me.”
She needed to tell him about Bean. It wasn’t fair to him to keep his son hidden away, and it wasn’t fair to Bean to deprive him of his father when the man was right here.
But she couldn’t.
Not until she knew what he wanted and not if all he wanted was another night. Because she couldn’t make a mistake like Flash Lawrence again. She needed him to be a father to his son. She needed him to be a co-parent, at the very least.
She needed to know she could trust him. And right now?
Not a lot of trust to go around.
Eyes closed, he took another one of those weirdly deep breaths and then he stepped up to her. Even though the night was warm and sticky,