Page 23 of My Fiancé's Brother
“It’s the latest rage. I guess you're supposed to flip the tire as part of a workout. But that tire weighs over 600 pounds.” I informed him. “It’s way too heavy for one person.”
“Where do you want it?”
I cringed when I recalled Matt’s attempts to flip this tire. He had grunted and groaned and swore to no avail. I intended to call someone to take it away but had never gotten around to it. Jackson was a big man, one of the biggest men I had ever met in my life, but I was reasonably sure he wouldn’t be able to budge it.
“It’s no big deal to park outside.”
He walked over to the tire, crouched beside it and with seemingly minimal effort, flipped the tire. My mouth dropped open. He repeatedly flipped it further into the garage, before resting it up against the wall. He wasn’t even out of breath.
He walked back to where I stood. “Mind if I use that to work out?”
I envisioned him wearing only his runners and his shorts, flipping that tire. His muscular body would be covered in sweat. My mouth flooded with moisture. I swallowed hard. I opened my lips to speak. Our eyes met. He watched me with interest.
I snapped my mouth shut and nodded.
Fearing he could see my thoughts, without saying another word, I turned and headed for the stairs.
CHAPTER 8
“I'm home,”Matt announced his arrival. I looked up from the stove. Matt walked across the loft, into the kitchen and kissed me hard on the lips.
“Something smells amazing in here.”
Jackson appeared at the top of the stairs. Matt stood back, and the two men stared at each other. Jackson lightly jogged down the stairs.
“Buddy, it’s been a long time,” Matt said, grinning, even though his voice sounded strained.
“Too long.”
“How long has it been?”
Jackson glanced at me. “Dan’s wedding?”
Matt frowned with a smile. “Can’t be. That wedding was over four years ago.”
Jackson shrugged. “Good to see you.”
They shook hands and continued to stare at each other.
“Likewise.” Matt nodded, his grin wide. Too wide. “Shit man. You’re a brick shit house. What the hell are they feeding you in the navy anyway?”
“Nothing good.”
They both had variations of smiles on their faces. The air crackled with unexplained tension.
“Have you tried any of Emily’s cooking yet?”
Jackson’s gaze, wide and green, trapped mine. “She can cook.”
I flushed.
Matt stepped back and pointed at Jackson. “I'm just going to change. Grab some beers.”
He pounded up the stairs and then his bedroom door shut.
The silence settled between us. He stood on the other side of the island studying me.
I walked to the fridge and set two cans of beer on the island between us. I took a deep breath. “Well, Matt’s finally home.”
