8. Tyler

I hadn't been this nervous in as long as I could remember. Maybe freshman year in high school? Except, even back then, I knew Drew and Brandon would have my back if anything went really wrong.

When it came to Naomi, I was on my own.

My brothers were there for me if I needed to talk, but it wasn't like they had any clue how to handle a woman like her. Drew might have had an idea, once upon a time. I just wasn't sure taking advice from a guy whose wife left him after seven years of marriage was a smart move.

Theirs was a quiet breakup, and it came as a shock to all of us. Especially since none of us knew anything was wrong until he showed up at our house one day, with a duffel bag full of clothes slung over his shoulder, complaining that he couldn't stand being alone in their house anymore.

We were all hoping he and Marina would eventually work it out, whatever it was. I could count on one hand how many times I'd seen them argue over the years. But even months later, she still refused to answer when he called, and when she did reply to his voicemails, it was always in a text message or an email.

So, as much as I appreciated his view of things when it came to me and Naomi, I took a lot of what he said with a grain of salt.

Then there was my buddy, Malcolm. I'd called him down in Costa Rica a couple of times over the last few weeks to vent. He listened and asked all the right questions, but his relationship situation was different. For starters, he really was husband material. If I didn't believe that wholeheartedly, I never would have let him date my little sister.

Also, I was pretty sure he didn't give Kira a reason to hate him by bailing on her after their first kiss. Or, you know, by being the asshole who was upending her life by forcing her to relocate her business.

No, I was that special asshole, and if I were smarter, I would let her go.

Luckily—or not, depending on how the night went—I was also a Grade A Idiot when it came to Naomi Harlowe.

Which was why I was sitting on a picnic table on the outskirts of her fundraiser with my heart in my throat and my stomach in knots.

When I found out about the event a few weeks earlier, from her mom of all people, I made sure The Fox Den donated all the alcohol for the event. Under Dad's name, of course, since I was pretty sure Naomi wouldn't have taken the offer if she'd thought it was coming from me.

Then, I told every single soul who had come through the bar in the last three weeks about it. I even roped my brothers into spreading the word. We were doing what was right for our business by expanding, but that didn't mean we wanted her or Harlowe's to suffer when there was something we could do to help.

Based on the looks she'd been throwing my way since I arrived ten minutes earlier, she either knew what I'd been up to and was pissed about it, or she had no clue and was still pissed at me for acting like an entitled jerk.

Kissing her wasn't exactly part of my plan on the day I stopped by her house. In fact, my intention was to ask her out on a proper date. When she said she remembered everything from that night on the porch—like how I remembered how hot that curvy body of hers felt against mine when I had her pinned against her front door, kissing her like I'd never get enough of her—I just lost my head.

Which meant the next time we kissed it was on her to make the first move.

Gathering my nerve, I pushed off the picnic table and started making the rounds at the barbeque. I was too damned on edge to eat anything, even though her dad's grilling skills were legendary in the Heights.

An old fashioned on ice, on the other hand, sounded so good. Straight whiskey wasn't bad but add a little sugar and a dash of bitters, and it transformed it into something special.

On any other night, I would have strolled right up to the little bar she had set up in the shade and ordered what I really wanted. Today, though, I needed a clear head.

I chuckled quietly at the thought. That little bit of real estate hadn't been clear since the moment Naomi's lips touched mine.

"Enjoying yourself?" Naomi asked from behind me.

The sound of her voice sent a ripple of goosebumps down my arms and back, despite the false sweetness dripping from her lips.

I turned slowly, fully expecting the plastic smile she flashed my way. It didn't matter that I was ready for it. Seeing how much she loathed me took the knife that had embedded itself in my chest a couple of months earlier and drove it a little deeper.

I pulled in a steadying breath and decided to ignore her tone and that venomous smile. "Looks like a great turnout," I offered, motioning to the crowd moving around us.

Naomi's eyes narrowed. "Isn't it great how people in small towns come together to support small businesses."

Oof. That dig wasn't subtle at all.

My knee jerk reaction was to argue with her, in part because that was how we'd always communicated, but it was clear she had no idea what role I or my brothers had played in her event. I intended to keep it that way.

I nodded my agreement. "It's always nice to see the community come together."

She eyed me suspiciously. "What are you doing here, Tyler?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"What? Are you here to see if there's any fresh, young women milling about that you haven't slept with?"

Ouch. I mean, I kind of deserved it, but still.

"Or maybe I'm here supporting a local business. Or it could be that I'm here because I feel like shit about what our expansion is putting you through." Confusion colored her expression, and she took half a step back, but I wasn't done. "Or maybe I'm here to apologize for acting like a jerk after that night on your porch and to beg for your forgiveness, because kissing you did something to me, and I haven't been the same since."

Naomi pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Stop."

"Stop what? Stop confessing how badly I've wanted to see you and talk to you, hell, even to argue with you since that night?"

When I closed the distance between us, she held her ground. That was something. Music played dimly in the background, blending into the low hum of conversation around us. None of that mattered when the woman who'd been haunting my dreams was mere inches away.

"I can't stop, Naomi," I said, dropping my voice low so only she could hear. "I can't stop thinking about you, or dreaming about you, or wishing like hell that I could go back in time and show up on your porch the next morning with a big bundle of flowers to ask you out on a real date."

She stared at me for what felt like an eternity. Her scent, unique and delicate against the sweet tang of barbequed meat and freshly cut grass, was like a drug. It was a balm to my frayed nerves even as it kicked my pulse up a few notches. Which made standing so close to her without being able to touch her pure fucking torture.

My fingers itched to reach out and cup her cheek or smooth that adorable crinkle in her brow. Instead, I shoved my hands in my pockets.

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. Then she tipped her head to the sky and let out a heavy breath. "I don't get you." When she finally met my gaze, her eyes were filled with questions. "Why did you leave that night?"

"Because you'd been drinking, but you should know it took every shred of my self-control to go."

She tucked her hair behind her left ear, the way she so often did when I was getting under her skin. "Then why didn't you call or come by the next day or the day after? If you wanted me so much, why did I see you with one of your throwaway girlfriends hanging all over you at the bar a few days later?"

What? I hadn't seen her step foot inside The Fox Den at all between the night we'd kissed and the day she'd stormed in waving the notice of sale for the building. More to the point, the most I'd done was half-heartedly flirt with a few women when I was still fighting Naomi's irresistible pull.

My shoulders were strung as tight as a guitar string, and it felt like there wasn't enough oxygen between the two of us. "There were no throwaway girlfriends."

She let out an indelicate huff and rolled her eyes. "Right."

"I haven't been with anyone since that night, Naomi. You're all I can think about. And I didn't come see you the next day because I was a fucking coward." I stepped back, rubbing my knuckles along my jaw. I'd never been good at sharing my feelings, but I would muddle my way through this if it killed me. "After I left that night, I realized there was some part of me that has always wanted you. It was why I teased you relentlessly and why it was so damned fun to push your buttons."

And probably part of the reason I was always looking for the easy out with other women. I thought I was guarding my heart, but maybe it already belonged to her.

Hope and weariness warred for dominance in her expression. "Tyler..."

"One date. That's all I'm asking for."

She smoothed her hands over her hips like she was trying to get rid of nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. "I have a lot going on with the new space and the move." She waved an arm, encompassing everyone and everything at her fundraiser. "And all this. I don't really have time to date."

That blade buried in my chest twisted. "I can wait."

As long as it takes.

"You are killing me, Fox." Her gaze darted across the park before it settled on my Jeep parked along the curb. "You know what, fine." She leveled me with a look that was one hundred percent challenge. "One date. Dinner. And we're going Dutch."

I swallowed down the excitement that tried to roar out of me. The idea of letting her pay for her own meal grated, but my caveman side was already beating his chest at the victory of her agreeing to a date.

"But..." she raised her index finger. "We are not taking your car. I've seen you with way too many women in that thing to have any interest in riding in it."

My blood was fizzing in my veins as I nodded. "Deal."

Naomi chewed on her bottom lip, and it was all I could do to keep my damn hands to myself. "And you have to call me. Tomorrow. No call, no date."

"What if I drop by your house and bring you flowers instead?"

The squeal of feedback from a microphone had us both turning toward the stage. "Thank you all so much for coming to this delightful fundraiser to help Harlowe's Beauty!" the announcer said. "The silent auction will be starting in just a couple of minutes, so grab your paddles and find a seat. We have quite a few gems up for grabs this evening."

"I should go help with the auction," Naomi said, turning back to me wearing an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Yeah," I agreed, even though I hated the idea of letting her walk away from me right now. Not when every muscle in my body longed to pull her close and kiss her until she forgot how badly I fucked things up between us the first time.

She eased back. "I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow then." With that, she turned and started toward the stage.

I called after her, not quite shouting but loud enough that it turned a few heads, "You look amazing tonight, by the way."

She paused and turned slightly to look at me over her shoulder. For the first time in a long time, I saw a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "For what it's worth, I've never been a fan of flowers." Then she walked away.

"Good to know," I said quietly to myself.