Free Fearless by Brynley Bush Page B

hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
    â€œBreakfast?” he asks.
    I realize I’m famished. I nod. “Yes, please.”
    â€œSit there,” he instructs, nodding to a bar stool, and I slide onto the seat, watching as he fetches eggs from the refrigerator, expertly cracking them into a bowl and whisking them with a fork before pouring them into a skillet, adding some diced ham and cheese as he scrambles them.
    â€œI’m impressed,” I say as he spoons the egg mixture onto several corn tortillas, topping them with hot sauce before rolling them up and placing them onto two plates.
    â€œCome here,” he says, carrying the plates into the living room.
    I follow him and he sinks into the large brown leather sofa, pulling me down next to him. He slides an arm around me, tucking me close to his side, and hands me a plate. I take a bite of the breakfast taco. It is delicious. Feeling his eyes on me, I close my eyes and moan dramatically. I open one eye and look up at him, gauging his response. He is glowering at me. I smile wickedly.
    In seconds I’m on my back on the leather couch with Beckett on top of me, one hand under my shirt cupping my bare breast. He kisses me hard.
    â€œKeep goading me, Emmaline,” he says in a low voice, pinching my nipple. “I know you’ve had enough today, but I’m going to look forward to punishing you for that.”
    My breath catches at the delicious threat.
    â€œOkay, okay,” I say, laughing nervously as I place my hands on his bare chest to push him off of me.
    He lifts himself off and pulls me up and back to his side, his breathing ragged. I look at him.
    â€œI think I’d better go sit over there,” I say, nodding toward a chair opposite the sofa.
    â€œYou’ll sit here with me,” he says firmly. “And learn to behave.”
    I smile innocently and pick up my breakfast taco. He settles me back against his side and says, “Tell me about your family.”
    While we eat, I tell him about growing up in San Diego, the youngest of three with two over-protective big brothers.
    â€œDid you tease them as relentlessly as you do me?” he asks.
    â€œProbably more,” I admit. “Although in a different way.”
    â€œGod help them,” he mutters. “Does your family still live there?”
    I nod. “My parents and one of my brothers still live in San Diego. My other brother and his wife live in Colorado.”
    â€œSo how did you end up in Texas?” he asks.
    â€œWhen we graduated from high school, my best friend Lainey and I made a pact to leave California. I love it there, but I needed space from my family so I could be independent. We picked the University of Texas,” I say. “Like I told you earlier, Tim got a job in Houston after graduation and I’ve been here ever since.”
    â€œDo you miss your family?”
    â€œA little,” I say with a shrug. “Mostly because of Nikki, but we go out there for a month every summer and they come here several times a year. But Lainey married a Houston boy and moved here too, so I do have family here, just not the family I was born with. What about you?”
    â€œWell, you’ve already met my dad,” Beckett says. “And as I told you I have two younger brothers. Griffin is a Navy SEAL. My youngest brother Drake is in the music industry.”
    â€œWow, lots of testosterone in your family,” I observe. “What was it like growing up in River Oaks?”
    He regales me with stories of the trouble he and his brothers got into at the private school they attended, making me laugh, until I realize it’s almost eleven thirty.
    â€œI have to go,” I say reluctantly. I go into the bathroom and get dressed, inhaling the scent of his shirt one last time before leaving it on his bed. I slip on my sandals and walk back into the kitchen. He’s finishing up the dishes and when I walk in he comes over