3 Seconds (Time for Love Book 6) (5 page)

My gaze fell on
his oldest brother, Brock, and my smile remained as I watched the
tall, bearded man play his guitar, his face a picture of total
peace as he ignored the crown in front of him. My heart warmed as I
thought of everything he’d sacrificed to ensure his family stayed
together, and how hard it must have been for him to have
essentially been a child himself when he’d found himself a
surrogate father to his brothers.

Feeling emotion
thickening in my throat, I turned my attention from Brock to Brady,
the middle brother, who was currently banging away on his drums. He
was naturally gifted, but he looked uncomfortable as he played, as
if he wished he were anywhere but on that stage.

The song ended,
and I found myself jostled even farther to the side as the girls
pushed and shoved each other to get closer to the attractive men on
stage. The brothers descended the stairs, exchanging hugs and claps
on the back, before both Brady and Brock left out the back door,
rather than coming out into the throng of people.

Brendan stepped
forward, into the bar, and was immediately surrounded by greedy,
shouting women.

That ugly seed
of jealousy grew, even as I tried to bury it within me, but I
watched as Brendan kept as smile on his face for his fans and
scanned above their heads, searching for me. When he found me, his
grin grew and I heard him say, “I’m glad you enjoyed the show,
ladies, but I’m afraid I’ve got a hot date,” as he sauntered right
to me.

I barely
registered the chorus of boos and awws, his pull already taking
hold of me.

He didn’t pause
when he reached me; instead he came at me full force, pulling me
into his arms and fusing his lips to mine. The desire that had been
building throughout his performance came to a head, and I met his
passion full force, opening my lips and inviting him in for a
taste.

Just as we were
reaching the point of no return, Brendan pulled back and smiled
beautifully down at me, his eyes flashing with the heat I knew he
was feeling.

“Let’s get out
of here.”

I just nodded,
unable to catch my breath enough to speak, and followed close
behind as he took my hand and pulled me toward the back rooms of
the bar.

“I’ll follow
you,” he said once we reached the back parking lot where his bike
was waiting.

We’d decided to
spend the night at my place this time, so I walked to my car, slid
in, and drove the short distance to my house. I pulled in the
driveway and waited, the hum of his motorcycle mimicking the thrum
of my body as I watched him dismount.

I wondered how
my two-bedroom Ranch-style home would look to him. Would he see the
hours of love and excitement that had been put into every piece of
furniture? Into every color pallet and picture on the wall? Or
would he just see the home of a middle-aged, single woman?

Ready to open
myself up and let him get a glimpse into how I became the woman I
was today, I held out my hand and guided him inside.

Chapter Seven ~
Brendan

I looked around
the living room, taking everything in as if I were starved to learn
as much about this woman as I possibly could.

Black-and-white
pictures adorned the walls, some family photos, and some pictures
of Ireland’s beautiful landscape. There were also quotes about the
beach, as well as nautical-themed decorations. The furniture and
accent pieces were in teals, sea-foam greens, and white.

The vibe was
easy, comfortable, and inviting. I liked it immediately, and was
excited to see this side of Bronagh. I followed her into the
kitchen and grinned. With every gadget known to man, a double oven,
island with a gas stovetop, and a refrigerator to rival most
restaurants’, it was definitely a chef’s showplace.

“I could live
here,” I said honestly as I walked the room, touching everything
with awe.

Bronagh grinned
at my declaration and sighed, “Right? It’s perfect. I knew exactly
what I wanted, and drove the contractor crazy, but I love it.”

We walked
through the rest of the house, which included a bathroom, an
office, and her bedroom, then wandered back in to the kitchen.

“Are you
hungry?” she asked.

“Starved,” I
replied, laughing when my stomach chose that moment to rumble
loudly. I was always hungry after a show, probably because I didn’t
eat much prior.

She opened the
fridge, pushed items aside as she did a quick inventory of what she
had on hand, then turned to me and suggested, “Carbonera?”

“That sounds
perfect. I actually spent a few weeks in a small restaurant in
Italy. The chef was very generous and showed me how to make a
perfect dish.”

Bronagh opened
her hands, welcoming me to take the lead on the meal prep. Unable
to resist the urge, I dropped my head and kissed her lightly,
thrilled at the prospect of cooking with her … for her.

We got out the
ingredients and I watched as she pulled out the tools that we’d
need, memorizing where everything was kept. I was cocky enough to
bank on the fact that I’d be cooking in this kitchen again.

“So, when did
you go to Italy?”

I pulled the
bacon out of the package and started chopping with Bronagh’s
butcher knife.

“After Brock
and Victoria got married, the house I grew up in suddenly felt a
lot smaller. I knew I needed to give them their space, they were
newlyweds after all, so I figured it was time for me to get a place
of my own. I started looking at apartments, then realized I’d never
really been on my own. I’d never
done
anything. So I busted
into the money I’d been saving while living with Brock, and decided
to finally discover the world. I took a break from culinary school
and went to Europe, traveled for about a year and a half. I worked
odd jobs in restaurants, learning from some of the best chefs in
the world, and played gigs in pubs and bars in the evenings.”

“That sounds
amazing,” she said as she fed dough into her pasta machine. “I
lived in Europe for a few years, Paris mostly, and I really miss it
sometimes. I can’t believe you took off by yourself, with no plan,
and just lived … That’s so brave.”

I shook my head
with a grin.

“I wouldn’t say
brave, but it
was
amazing. I missed my brothers, and when I
found out Victoria was pregnant, I knew it was time to come home.
But, I wouldn’t trade my time there for anything. I could never
learn what I did over there in a classroom … no offense.”

“None taken,”
she replied with a sweet laugh. “I get it. There’s nothing like
working in a kitchen with someone who lives and breathes the food
they prepare.”

“Yes,
exactly!”

“So, what
countries did you visit?”

I started the
sauce, not immediately answering her question. I was surprised at
how nostalgic I felt talking about that time in my life.

“Ahh, in
addition to Venice, I traveled to Rome and Florence. I also worked
in Alicante, Glasgow, London, Bruges, Amsterdam, and, of course,
Paris.”

“Mmmm,” was
Bronagh’s only response, and when I turned and saw the dreamy look
on her face, I knew she was thinking about her own time in
Europe.

“The history
and the architecture in each city is amazing, and
the
food
…”

She lifted her
face and nodded. No words were necessary.

We finished
preparing the meal, both lost in memories, then moved to the stools
on the other side of the island and sat down to enjoy our hard
work.

“Soooo good,”
Bronagh said after her first bite.

Deciding I
needed to learn as much about her as I could, I asked, “What’s your
favorite song?”

“
Sugar
Magnolia
.”

“Wow,” I
responded with a chuckle. “You didn’t even have to think about it.
A Dead Head, huh?”

“No, I wouldn’t
say I’m a Dead Head, but that song speaks to me, you know?”

“Yeah,” I
totally did.

“What about
you?” she asked, rolling her pasta around her fork.

“
Right
Here
by Staind,” I replied automatically. “They write and play
the kind of music I want to make.”

I finished a
forkful of Carbonera and decided to delve a little deeper.

“What’s the
most serious relationship you’ve ever had?”

Bronagh
finished chewing, then answered softly, “I was married.”

“Oh,” I
responded, then realized I shouldn’t be surprised. A gorgeous,
talented, amazing woman like Bronagh wouldn’t spend her life
single. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking…”

Bronagh sat
back from her now empty plate and placed her hands on her
thighs.

“No, of course
not.” She took a deep breath and replied, “I met my husband in a
kitchen. I worshiped him … Not in a romantic way, not at first, but
his skill and domineering presence in the kitchen drew me to him. I
wanted to learn as much from him as possible, and I did, then it
turned in to something else. He called me his muse, and I was
flattered ... When he asked me to marry him and work side by side
with him, I thought my dreams had come true, but he kept me at
arm’s length. Don’t get me wrong, he was doting and affectionate,
but that was the extent of our relationship.” Bronagh looked at me,
her expression sad, and added, “He put me on a pedestal. He didn’t
want a partner, he wanted a showpiece. It was as if I was his
signature dish … We were married for ten years when I found out
that he’d been sleeping with other women the entire time.”

“What an ass,”
I said, disgusted. I may have been a player, but I believed
whole-heartedly in the sanctity of marriage. I thought cheaters
were the lowest form of life.

“The funny
thing is, when I confronted him, he really didn’t see what the big
issue was,” she said with a dry laugh. “He said that as his wife, I
deserved to be treated like porcelain, not degraded by his male
urges.” Bronagh looked down, as if ashamed to be telling me that
her husband hadn’t treated her like the sexual goddess that she
was, so I placed my finger under her chin, and raised her face back
up to look directly at me. “What we did together … I’d never done
that before. I’ve only had three sexual partners in my life, and
they’ve all been pretty tame.”

My cock
hardened at her admission, the animal in me thrilled that I’d be
the one to introduce her to new experiences.

“I’m dying to
remedy that situation,” I stated, my gaze falling on her lips when
she licked them nervously. “You deserve to be worshiped, Freckles,
and I’m happy to be the man that shows you all the things you’ve
been missing.”

Chapter Eight ~
Bronagh

“What’s the
most serious relationship you’ve ever had?” I asked, going back to
our earlier conversation.

We were lying
in my bed, our naked bodies haphazardly covered by my pale-yellow
sheets. He’d just introduced me to the more positive aspects of the
sixty-nine position, and we were both feeling loose and
satisfied.

Brendan turned
his head and brought his eyes to mine.

“I’ve never
really had one.”

“Really?” I
asked, unable to contain my surprise at his response. I knew he was
young, but still, he was old enough to have had girlfriends. “Not
even in high school?”

Brendan shook
his head. He brought his hand up and ran it over his face, and I
couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed by the fact, or frustrated that
I’d asked.

“No, I mean, I
hung out with girls in high school, took ‘em to dances and stuff,
but I’ve never called anyone my
girlfriend
. I don’t know …
Brock dated off and on growing up, but he came with too much
baggage for most women to handle, and I watched Brady get put
through the ringer by the girl he loved. I guess I just never
thought it was worth it. I didn’t want the stress and heartache. It
felt better to keep things casual and always experience the fun
side of relationships.” He closed his eyes and added, “And I know
that makes me sound like a major asshole.”

I thought about
his response, and since I could understand his position, I replied
honestly, “No, I get it, you were protecting yourself. You’ve dealt
with major loss, Brendan, so I can see why you’d be guarded. I
wouldn’t say that makes you a major asshole, maybe just a minor
one…” I elbowed him lightly to let him know I was joking, and was
pleased when he chuckled.

When he sobered
he said, “I was always upfront with the girls I hooked up with,
letting them know I wasn’t looking to meet the parents or carry
their purse while we’re out shopping for dresses.” He shifted so he
was on his side facing me and proceeded to make my heart clench.
“I’ve never felt with anyone the things I feel with you, and
although I have no experience, and I’ll probably screw this thing
up, I’d like to see where it goes.”

“You mean you
want to see each other exclusively?” I asked, wanting to make sure
we were on the same page.

“Yes.”

“No
groupies?”

“None.”

“And you want
to meet my da and carry my purse while we go dress shopping?”

Brendan laughed
at that, his handsome face lighting up.

“Absolutely.”

“That’s not
really what relationships are about, you know that, right?”

“I
told
you I had no experience.”

I smirked at
him, then brought my finger up to trace his lips.

“I’ll be happy
to teach you,” I replied, thinking about the things he’d promised
to teach me. “It’ll be a learning experience for both of us.”

He sucked the
tip of my finger into his mouth and bit it lightly, causing shivers
to run through me.

“What’s the
best sexual experience you’ve ever had?” I asked.

“With you the
night we met.”

“Good answer,”
I replied, thinking it was definitely mine as well. “What’s the
worst thing you’ve ever said to a woman you were
hooking up
with?”