Sutton's Choice (Hudson Boys Book 1) Read online

Page 4


  Turning around, he leans back against the counter and crosses his ankles. Lifting his coffee cup, he attempts to hide his smile. "Yep," he takes a sip, "with two brunettes, a blonde and sometimes a redhead." He chuckles when I give him a curious arch of my brow. "I meet Sutton at eight-thirty every Sunday for breakfast. Most of the time, one or all of her girlfriends show up. After that, we head over to the youth center, where she teaches a dance class, and I play ball with the kids that aren't interested in her class. Mainly the guys, but to be honest, several of them participate in her lessons. I know it's more so they can watch her move, but hey, I can't blame them for that, who wouldn't."

  I swallow my first mouthful of coffee and try not to react to my brother's words. I'm already picturing her moving her body to music. The seductive roll of her hips, the way she would hold her mouth in a sexy pout, or bite that lip of hers the way I've already witnessed her doing.

  "You should come," He adds, setting his coffee down in the sink and pulling me out of a fantasy I shouldn't be having in the first place. "If you can be ready in twenty minutes, that is."

  I'm not sure me being near Sutton and my brother at the same time is the best idea. "What's the story with you two anyway?"

  "We're friends," the smile he once had is replaced with a solemn one. His face lax, his brows crease as if thinking over a particular event or a series of them that he finds disturbing.

  “But,” I push, knowing there's more and the desire to know outweighing every other thought or emotion.

  "But nothing," standing tall, he squares his shoulders. "Do I think Sutton's hot? Yes, but I know it will never go anywhere beyond that. She treats me like a big brother, and to be honest; I don't want to ruin our friendship."

  I should shut up now because pushing him only makes my attraction to her more difficult. But this is Bennett, my brother, and his happiness means more to me than my own. It always has. “So, you sit around miserable so that you can keep her in your life?"

  "Not miserable, just—,” he pauses as if searching for the right word.

  "Miserable," I repeat, and he chuckles. Then, after a few seconds, he nods in agreement.

  "But it's better than the alternative. If I say something about having feelings for her and she doesn’t feel the same, she will then feel uncomfortable being around me. I’ll lose the friendship we have and end up more miserable than I already am. You've met her, and yeah, I know it was brief, but you'll see how amazing she is. I remember the first time I saw her dance with her students up on stage, and it got me right here," he places his hand over his chest.

  "Students?"

  "Yeah, she's a dance teacher. She moves like an angel, and the kids, they love her."

  "Are you in love with her?" He seems surprised by my question, but I have to know. If he says yes, then I know without a doubt in my mind that I will never look at Sutton again in the same way as I did last night. I'll never allow myself to think of her as anything more than my brother's girl. I will keep my distance and make it impossible for me ever to cross any line drawn.

  "I love her," my stomach feels suddenly emptied and hollow. "But I wouldn't say I'm in love with her." I wait for him to explain. I know more than anything my need to know is for purely selfish reasons. "In the beginning, it was lust, I saw her in the bar, and immediately I was drawn to her, but I'm sure I wasn't the only one. She's beautiful," without stopping myself; I nod in total agreement. "But the more time I spent with her, the more I realized that Sutton is the kind of person you want in your life, friend or more. She's like a cool beer on a hot day."

  "That's a comparison. I'm more than sure you shouldn't share with her."

  He laughs, "I mean, she's the good part of a bad day; she makes you smile even when you’ve had one of the worst shifts possible. She finds the good in every situation. Her sense of humor surprises me. She seems innocent and shy but get her in a group of people; after a few drinks and the real Sutton comes out. I get where our friendship outweighs any possible chance of us being more. I mean, it's like the two of us have known one another a lot longer than a year. She gets me; she accepts me, and laughing with Sutton is better than losing her completely."

  I want to ask more. I want to address every feeling my brother has for her and analyze it. I want to know without a doubt in my mind that he'd recover from her being with someone else.

  I want to know that if that someone ended up being me, he'd be okay, and it wouldn't sever the bond we have.

  But I stop, knowing that I can't dig anymore, not right now. I'm too afraid of what I'll find.

  "I'm gonna grab a quick shower," I don't wait for him to respond before I grab my bag from the floor and walk toward the bathroom at the end of the hall. Once inside, I lean back against the door. I look up at the mirror over the sink to find my reflection staring back at me. "You're an asshole, Brant. A pure fucking asshole," I mumble to myself, quickly looking away.

  Chapter Seven

  Sutton

  * * *

  “I think I’m getting strawberries and whip cream today,” Adley announces, and we all look over at her. “I had this dream last night, and there was lots and lots of whipped cream.”

  “Who was the star of the show?” Lexi asks with a smirk. I think we all expect that it is Rory but know that she won’t openly admit it. So instead, Adley looks up from the menu and stares off. Something crosses over her face which makes me wonder if today will be the day she finally admits everything; then slowly, a smile covers her lips and her eyes grow wide.

  “He looked a whole lot like that,” she nods at the front entrance, and we all shift and look in that direction. Instantly my mouth goes dry, and I wiggle a little in my seat from a rush of nervous energy. Walking across the parking lot are the two O'Shay brothers, and side by side, they are a force to be reckoned with. Brantley is only a few inches taller than Bennett, but both very fit and dominating. “Instant girl boner, right here.” Adley lifts her hand and points to herself, making us all laugh. “Damn, that seems so unfair that the two of them can be that hot.”

  She isn’t wrong. The way a few women around the diner look up and watch as Brantley and Bennett enter confirms it. I know we aren’t the only ones to notice.

  “Ladies,” Bennett says as he slides into the booth next to Lexi, and I notice her cheeks redden. Stretching his arm up and over her head, he places it across her shoulders. Bennett pulls her in close, kissing the top of her head. He is the biggest flirt I know. “Lexi, you smell like peaches.” He smells her hair, and her eyes widen in surprise. Honestly, I loved how Lex reacted. I’d always suspected she had a little crush on Bennett.

  “This spot open?” I’d forgotten for a minute that Brantley still stood at my side, and I jerk at the sound of his deep baritone voice.

  “Um,” pull it together, you fumbling fool, “It’s fine, sure, yeah.”

  Adley snickers, and I smack her leg as I slide closer to her. “There’s a little drool on your chin,” she whispers in my ear, and I glare at her. Then, looking up, I find Bennett watching me and wonder how much of that he’s seen or heard. Not that I have anything to feel shameful of, it’s more because everyone insists, he has feelings for me.

  “What’s good here?” Brantley asks, and I turn back toward him. He holds a menu in front of his face, scanning over it carefully. When he glances over at me and smiles, I do my best not to sag back into the booth from the effects his smile alone has on my body. He holds my stare, and I notice how the corner of his mouth twitches as if he is trying to control laughter. Apparently, I’m a glass box, and he sees right through me. How embarrassing.

  “The waffles,” Adley speaks for me. Then she goes a little further, and I instantly feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Whip cream piled on top, maybe a few chocolate sprinkles and strawberries. Super yummy! You look like the kinda guy who’d appreciate a little whipped cream.”

  Again, I elbow her, and she laughs louder.

  “I like whip cream,” Brantle
y says as he turns back to the menu, and I can’t seem to look away. He is sinful, and I think he knows it. He rests the tip of his tongue on his lower lip. I have to squeeze my thighs together and close my eyes so that I don’t crawl up on his lap and ride him like a starving nympho. My cheeks heat at the thought.

  When the waitress steps up to our side, I notice how she stares between the two guys, utterly oblivious that three women are sitting with them. She is completely amazed. “Mornin’ boys.” she coos, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her sugar-sweet voice.

  Brantley chuckles, and I realize he’s noticed my reaction. I can’t fight the smile tugging at my lips as I look away from him.

  “Not all of us are boys, no penis here, sugar,” Adley chimes in, and I close my eyes, knowing that she is about to trample the waitress in her charming little way. “I can assure you that what I’m carrying behind these shorts is, in fact, not what boys carry. Could you imagine the discomfort they must go through when they run or even walk, the way it swings? Hot days would be the worst. No, thank you,” She dramatically shakes her head, not even looking up at the poor waitress who looks as though she might run away and hide at any moment. “I get it though, I mean, these two are pretty hot, right? But they are men honey, men, definitely not boys.”

  I hang my head, feeling as embarrassed as our waitress must be now.

  “She always like this?” I peek up at Brantley and widen my eyes as I nod. He chuckles and glances over at my cousin, grinning at her. Ridiculously I feel an instant tinge of jealousy that he finds her funny.

  “I always get the chocolate chip waffles with whip cream, chocolate shavings, and caramel drizzle.” I should feel ashamed for doing my best to bring his attention back to me, but I don’t. The excitement I feel when he looks at me is such a rush. When he looks away from Adley, he smiles and nods as if that sounds perfect to him.

  “I’ll have what she’s having,” he tells the waitress as he points at me with one hand and sets down his menu in front of him. Only I haven’t said my choice loud enough for anyone else to hear.

  Repeating my order, I fight the urge to smile when I see Brantley watching me from the side.

  After we place our orders, the now quiet waitress hurries away, and I turn to Adley. “I’m pretty sure that she’s gonna spit in your coffee. Or on your waffles.”

  She seems unaffected by the possibility as she leans in and places her elbows on the table, listening to Lexi and Bennett carrying on across from us.

  The conversation begins to flow, and though I don’t ask Brantley many questions, my friends don’t hold back. I try not to make it evident that I am hanging on his every word. All the stories he shares of living in Japan and Hawaii are fascinating. He skips over the space in time when he was deployed, and I find myself wondering about the things he must have seen. A few times, his nostrils flare, and he shifts uncomfortably in the seat at my side.

  He places his hand on the cushion between us and his fingers cover my own. My body freezes on contact, but he seems to relax and keeps them there for a few minutes. His thumb is lightly moving over the side of my finger, and again I find myself feeling flushed by the simple unintentional touch.

  “So, what made you decide not to re-enlist?” Lexi asks, and I watch him while he looks straight ahead at Bennett. It’s then his hand lifts, and he places it on his thigh.

  “More than eight years away is long enough, too long. I missed my family.” He tosses a wadded-up napkin at Bennett, and the two of them share a grin. “Missed hassling my little brother.”

  “Awe,” Lexi pokes at Bennett’s ribs, and he curls up, attempting to fight off her advances. I take a few minutes to imagine the two of them together. They are cute; Lexi adores Bennett, she always has, but I never realized it was more than a simple friendship until recently. She shies away when asked, making it more evident that she feels something but is too afraid to admit it.

  “You want me to trade places with him?” Shifting around, I notice the scowl on Brantley’s face.

  “No,” leaning back against the firm cushion behind me, I lift my coffee to my lips. “I’m good right where I am,” I assure him before I take a sip. I notice how his focus drops to my lips, and for extra reassurance, I lick my lower one and enjoy how his nostrils flare. Yep, he is looking at my mouth.

  Chapter Eight

  Brantley

  * * *

  “This is your Sunday routine.” I stand in the center of the outside basketball court and look around the courtyard. Teenagers are scattered throughout the entire space, doing various activities.

  My brother steps up beside me, his hands on his hips as he takes in a slow deep breath. “Most of the time,” he’s winded, “unless Uncle Randy decides to work us. You’ll find out soon enough that being related to your boss doesn’t mean shit if there’s money to be made.”

  I knew coming home, I had a job waiting for me. O'Shay Construction is a company that Aaron’s grandfather started, and when Uncle Randy married Aunt Jean, they inherited the business. After that, things soared, and now he’s booking jobs all over the county. As a result, new homes are going up, buildings and houses being remodeled, from small bathroom renovations and additions to homes. Working with my hands has always been something I’ve enjoyed, and I’m more than ready to get started. It’s another perk being able to work with family; though we butt heads at times, we shake it off at the end of the day and move on.

  I notice Bennett staring off in the distance, and I turn around to see what has gained his attention. Sutton has her back to us; a group of girls stand facing her.

  You hear music playing in the distance, something upbeat, but I can’t quite make out the song.

  “She’s amazing with them,” Bennett says. “Most of these kids have been in and out of foster care, some Juvie, but she comes here loyally every Sunday. Sutton gives them all something to look forward to every week. She doesn’t get paid to do this; she doesn’t owe anyone anything. That’s what makes it hard for me not to feel something for her. She’s selfless.”

  “She is pretty great,” the words leave my mouth before I can stop them. “I noticed the way you were with Lexi, is it?”

  He smiles and looks away from Sutton. “Lexi’s great too,” I toss the basketball to him, and he catches it, twisting it around in his hands.

  “Just great?”

  “She’s Sutton’s best friend.”

  “And?”

  He waits, looking back at Sutton and then down toward the ball in his hand. Then, palming it, he turns it over and holds it out in front of him. I take it as the opportunity to steal the ball, and he chuckles.

  “Does my little brother have a silent crush on two different girls, who also happen to be friends?”

  “Are we twelve? A crush,” he attempts to take the ball back, and I move it behind my back, still waiting for him to answer me. “They’re both pretty great.” That’s all he gives me, but he doesn’t have to say more; I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.

  Bennett fakes right and then snags the ball from behind me, running off toward the basket. Instead of following him, I stand where I am and watch. He goes in for a layup, and when he makes it, he turns around, holding his hands up in the air and the smile on his face is enormous. That same goofy-ass grin I’ve seen a million times before, but it hits me deeply this time. Bennett is the soft one, the guy that takes everything to heart, and though he tries to hide it, he wears his heart on his sleeve. I’ve always felt the desire to protect him, the need to shelter him from anything potentially harmful. It’s my job as the older brother, but I fear that I may be the one causing the pain in the end.

  I glance over toward Sutton to find her looking over in our direction. My chest grows tight when she flashes her sweet smile. How in the hell am I supposed to pretend that one smile from that woman doesn’t make my knees weak and my heart race?

  Chapter Nine

  Sutton

  * * *

  Stepping out of
the shower, I wrap a towel around my hair, twisting it up on top of my head. Then, with a second one securely around my body, I open the door and walk down the hallway. “Lex,” I look around the living room, and when I don’t see her, I continue toward the kitchen. “Where’s the blow-dryer?” Rounding the corner, I come to an abrupt halt and grip the towel, barely covering my body.

  “We have company,” Lexi bites her lip to keep from laughing as she tucks her chin toward her chest.

  Bitch. She thinks this is hilarious.

  “Hey, Tink,” Bennett laughs and pops what appears to be a donut hole into his mouth. As he chews, he offers Lexi a wink, and I am still standing in the entryway, feeling like my legs will not move. Everyone’s eyes are on me, and I can feel my heart race a little faster.

  “Nice towel.” I jump in surprise at the sound of the familiar husky voice and look to my right to find Brantley leaning against the wall. The way he runs his gaze down the entire length of my body and back up does nothing but trigger a rush of heat to filter through me.

  My tongue suddenly feels three sizes too big, and my heart feels as though it may beat right out of my chest.

  I look away quickly, knowing that I may say or do something foolish if I don’t, which would only add to my humiliation.

  Rory is standing a few feet away with a smirk. “Tink,” he says, shaking his head. “You need a tan, babe,” he adds, moving in closer, bending to look at my legs. “I thought my legs were pale.”

  I slap at him as he runs a finger over my shin, and he moves away laughing.

  “We thought we’d come to pick you, ladies, up,” Bennett says around a mouthful of food. “Sully’s has dollar fifty bottles.”

  I can still see out of the corner of my eye that Brantley is looking at me from the side. The heat rises in my neck at the fact that, the only thing separating my naked body from all the prying eyes is a towel. A not-so-thick towel that is beyond worn and should have been replaced long ago. Oh my God, I hope it isn’t the one with the hole in it.

 

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