Free Pierce My Heart (Women of Willowbrook Book 1) by Kelsey Jensen Page B

going in? You’ve gotta get back to make those brownies for tonight,” she asks.
    I look back at Evan and nod, ignoring the look she has on her face as her eyes ping back and forth between us, and start to take a step away when he speaks.
    “Brownies?”
    Halting my movements, I look up at him, realizing something.
    Sheesh, he’s tall—has at least eight inches on me.
    I mean, all the guys in my family are around his height but he seems huge. Bigger in a way that’s more than just his height and muscle.
    It’s all of him.
    “Yeah, um, family dinner tonight. I agreed to make my younger brother cupcakes and then my older brother talked me into making him my brownies. Well, they’re not mine. I mean, I got the recipe from a TV show years ago, but I tweaked it to make it my own by adding a fudge layer before throwing crunchy bits of toffee and a caramel drizzle on top. So, it’s part mine and part whoever came up with it. His wife is an awesome cook, she’s always trying out new stuff and having dinner parties to share, but she isn’t the best when it comes to baking. And our mom is the one cooking dinner so they’re definitely not going to ask her; there’s a fifty/fifty chance she’d smile and agree or threaten them with a rolling pin.” My eyes widen and I start to backtrack. “Not that she’d follow through or anything, she doesn’t beat us, never even spanked us growing up, it would just be a threat, but her bark is worse than her bite. There’s no way either one of the boys would even lift a cook book, let alone open one to figure out how to make the sweets, and I love baking, and my brothers, so it’s not like it’s a hardship, just time consuming. But I’ve learned to multitask so it’s not that—”
    A hand covers my mouth, effectively cutting me off and shutting me up.
    My eyes trail up the arm and see it attached to Evan.
    An Evan whose eyes are bugging out at me, clearly saying I need to shut my mouth and, since I didn’t do it myself, she did it for me.
    And that I should thank her.
    She’s good with her looks.
    I swing my eyes back over to him and see a full-fledged smile going on.
    As a matter of fact, all the guys have big smiles. A chuckle escapes, not that he tried hard (or at all) to keep it in, the well-formed, full lips of tall, dark, and handsome, and another blush hits my cheeks.
    Swinging my eyes back to Evan, I send her a look that says if she doesn’t move her hand I am not to be held responsible for what I do to it with my mouth.
    She jerks her hand away and rubs it on her jeans while making a face.
    I roll my eyes, barely holding back the urge to stick my tongue out at her.
    Barely, but I manage.
    Giving my attention back to the men, my eyes are pulled right back to him—almost like I can’t help myself. I take two steps toward the door, putting three feet between us, and raise my arm, hand out to shake.
    “Thanks. For catching me, I mean.”
    He looks at my hand a beat, then my eyes before he grasps my hand to shake; at least, I think that’s what he’s doing.
    Instead, I find myself pulled the three feet separating us. Both my hands end up trapped between us—one because I’d thrown it out to slow me down, and the other because he still has a firm hold on it and doesn’t seem to want to let go (I know, I tried tugging on it).
    He raises his free hand and slides his thumb along my cheek again.
    I want to close my eyes, savor the feeling of his touch and the way my body is warmed by it, but I keep them opened wide and looking into his—so I see when it happens. His eyes get this weird look, an alert awareness mixed with not a small amount of determination.
    It’s odd, intense, and a little frightening, but a whole lot hot.
    My body melts a little deeper into him and I hit tunnel vision; where he’s the only thing I see, feel, or hear.
    “Catch you anywhere, gorgeous,” he says quietly, almost like a promise, while his thumb keeps moving.
    I lose the tunnel