Chapter Eleven

"I have a secret," Aspen announced in a loud whisper to her sister. "But Brick doesn't want me to tell."

He almost groaned in defeat, but the event hadn't begun yet, and he had work to do. After meeting with Ursula, he'd convinced her that Aspen had a headache, and though she was willing to answer questions, Brick would be the one to read an excerpt from her new book. Marco would be in the audience as a decoy in case they needed a distraction.

They were at the thirty-minute mark since she'd eaten the brownies, and Marco swore she'd be better at an hour.

He hoped Aspen took a lot of bathroom breaks to slow time.

But now, Sierra shot him a suspicious look at Aspen's confession, and he wasn't sure how to play it. "What secret?" she demanded, squinting hard at her sister's face. "And why do you look so happy?"

"Because she loves book signings," Brick cut in smoothly. "Right? Aspen was just telling me in the car that meeting her readers gives her a high."

"I'm high!" Aspen cried out. A few people glanced over. "Oops." She clapped a palm over her mouth. "That was the secret."

Sierra stared. Brick forced a laugh. "She's been cracking jokes all morning."

He was saved when Ursula motioned them over to start the event. The store was small, so a table had been set up in a cozy corner with a stack of Aspen's books. Sharpies, bookmarks, and postcards were laid alongside the pile. All the folding chairs were taken, and people lined up throughout the aisles, crowded in tight to hear Aspen speak. Many clutched books to their chests. Brick registered the excited hum of energy vibrating around him as she took her seat behind the table and Ursula began introductions.

Brick tucked himself against a corner bookshelf to keep a close eye on Aspen. She tilted her head to the side, hands folded neatly, and listened while Ursula read off a list of achievements, from bestsellers to optioned movies to sales of over a million dollars. He noticed the books displayed were all her newest release—titled Meet Me at Our Spot . The cover was colorful, with a couple on a picnic blanket and the Eiffel Tower in the background.

Ursula stepped aside, and applause rang out. Aspen smiled and nodded while Brick held his breath. She was definitely grinning with a bit of glee, and her brown eyes gleamed with moisture. What if she cried? Would her fans like that and feel appreciated? Body stiff with tension, he prayed she could speak without giggling and going off on a strange tangent.

He was going to kill Marco later.

"Thank you. I'm so…touched to see all of you here." Aspen beamed from behind the table, taking in the crowd, misty with emotion. "I always dreamed of being a writer but never thought I'd make it. I thought it was a career you had if you were very smart. I thought I needed to be well-versed in all the literary classics and get As in stuffy classrooms on my essays. I thought everyone knew more than me—the secret that would finally get my stories published and read. I spent so long trying to figure it all out." A tiny frown creased her brow. "This is my third novel, and I think I finally found the answer."

She paused, and everyone waited, sensing a big revelation coming. Brick waited with them, expecting an underdog story of rejections and success like the Rocky of the fiction world. A story filled with inner truths that people could relate to in pursuit of all their dreams. Maybe the pot had helped. She was able to open up, share more, and connect with the audience. Or perhaps the edge was finally wearing off, and he didn't have to worry anymore. It didn't matter as long as she seemed back in control of herself.

Aspen surveyed the crowd, drawing out the anticipation.

"Hi, Sierra!" She began to wave frantically, blowing kisses to her sister, who looked frozen in shock. "My sister's in the audience, guys. Isn't that cool? Oh, and there's Brooklyn and Inez, my new friends."

There were laughs and glances toward the women. Her friends grinned. Sierra nodded politely, smiling back, but Brick saw the moment she realized her sister was not herself. "Okay, I'd better read something, right?"

"What was the answer?" a woman called out.

Aspen blinked. "To what?"

A low murmur swept through the crowd. The woman spoke again. "You said you found the secret to being a writer by your third book. What was it?"

Aspen scrunched up her nose as if trying to remember. Brick held his breath. "Oh. There is no secret. I guess I lied."

Fuck.

The woman looked confused, but Aspen kept talking. "Let's get this show on the road. Um, this is from my new book, which just came out. It's not doing well, so it'd be nice if you bought it." Another round of laughs, this time more strained.

Aspen plucked one of her books from the pile and rifled through it, taking a long time between mutters to decide what segment to read. Ugh, this was stressful. Squaring his shoulders, he walked over and discreetly whispered, "I'll read for you, Aspen. Just give me the page."

"You're being so sweet, Brick," she exclaimed way too loudly. "But I got this. I can read fine."

The weight of multiple gazes burned through him. He nodded and withdrew to his spot. Probably not a good time to push. Hopefully, she'd find the damn page, read it, and refocus. Finally, she stabbed her finger at a page, brightening. "Here it is. Oh, you'll like this part. Um, okay, so the heroine and the hero grew up together at this lake upstate. First, they were friends, and then they got into a fight and hated each other. A decade later, they find themselves in Paris, working on the same project but on different sides." Aspen waved a hand in the air back and forth like she was conducting a symphony. "They had this big argument in public, and they're really mad, but there's this chemistry between them they can't seem to get over—don't you love when that happens?—and the hero, Cal, shoves the heroine, Rachael, into a conference room to continue the argument. Here we go."

She squinted at the page, cleared her throat, and began to read.

"You're still the same sulky, bratty kid I had to deal with ten years ago," Rachael hissed, leaning in with fury. "I don't care if it's the last thing I do, but I'll make sure your proposal never gets passed."

Cal practically growled in her face. "Try it. I'll get the votes to throw you off this board before you blink those pretty little lashes. And you're still the same spoiled, pampered princess who manipulated every guy you came in contact with. Except me. That's why you hate me. Because I saw right through you from day one."

"Try it," Rachael threw back at him. "A few well-placed calls will yank that generous bank loan. How will you tell your mom you failed again?"

She saw the rage on his face, and somehow, she was pressed against the wall, her hands gripping his shoulders, mouth an inch away. "Sure. The same time you tell your dad you failed again to show any value except buying off others to do the real work. How can anyone respect you when you're afraid to get your hands dirty?"

Rachel gritted her teeth. Her nails sank into the cotton of his dress shirt and hit solid muscle. "I can get as dirty as anyone if it's something I believe in."

His lip lifted in a snarl, and suddenly, all that angry tension took a hard turn and exploded into a furious sexual energy, whipping between them like a hurricane. "Prove it."

His mouth slammed over hers.

Rachel lifted onto her toes and met him head-on. His tongue surged into the dark, wet cave of her mouth, tangling with hers, thrusting in a demand to conquer. But Rachael refused to surrender, pressing her breasts against his chest, hooking her leg around his hips so he stumbled forward, ripping his mouth from hers with a vicious curse. "The ultimate tease," he taunted, lips damp.

"Shut up and do what you do best."

Their mouths fused again, and she ripped at the buttons on his shirt. He slid his big hands under the twisted hem of her blouse, cupping her breasts, unhooking her bra with one deft snap of his thumb. And then he was rubbing and tweaking her hard nipples, swallowing her throaty cries of need as his knee pressed hard against her aching center. Rachael became a wild animal, needy for more, stroking the hard muscles of his chest, dipping down under his slacks to cup his straining erection, her teeth sinking deep into his lip while she teased and punished in her own way.

And she was dragged back to that one fateful night, the hot summer by the lake that changed everything.

Aspen sighed with satisfaction. "Isn't hate sex the best? Okay, does anyone have questions?"

A stunned silence fell over the room.

Ah, fuck .

An hour later, Aspen felt her smile wobble as the event drew to a close. Thankfully, she was back to her regular self, and that amazing, floaty, happy sensation had been replaced by another less positive one.

Dread.

She'd read a sex scene to a nice crowd on a Sunday afternoon. If anyone had brought kids, would she have gotten sued? It was as if she'd been viewing herself through a filter, watching but unable to control anything. Another deeper part of her admitted the awful truth.

She'd liked not giving a crap.

It was fun to just get in front of people and not care what she said. The free-fall giddiness reminded her of when she was deep into writing a scene she loved, and all her senses were completely connected to her mind, body, and soul. Like riding the carousel as a kid, the wind whipping in her hair as she went around and around, up and down, caught in the tinny, magical carnival music and the possibility of her horse detaching and riding off into the world while she clutched its painted mane.

Yeah, maybe she was still high.

"I loved Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover ," the woman said, clutching her book like a well-loved child. "I read it a million times. Do you think there will ever be a sequel?"

"I may be working on that right now," she offered, glancing at her sticky note and scribbling Cassandra's name in black Sharpie. "I'm so happy you loved the book. Have you read the other two yet?"

"Not yet. I'm so busy, but I know this one will be wonderful, too."

Aspen held back a sigh, recognizing the familiar excuse. The woman wouldn't read the new book. Once again, she was too obsessed with her original. Half her readers didn't like the other books because they differed from Fifty Ways . The other half didn't want to read anything that wasn't the original characters from her first book. Maybe her agent was right. This sequel would drag everyone back to her fictional world, and maybe she'd get another shot at showing her audience that she could write other stories. "Totally understand. Here, take a pen. It was lovely to meet you."

"You, too. Um, one other thing. I didn't realize you were with Brick Babel." A gleam of envy and admiration flickered in her dark eyes. "Are you moving here permanently?"

Here we go . This was the third woman today who'd taken it upon herself to warn Aspen about the wicked Brick Babel. "No. I'm just visiting my sister."

She glanced over at the object of their discussion. He was sucking all the air from the room, leaning against the shelf, head down. Masculine energy swarmed around him and gave off pheromones to any female nearby. Coal-black hair mussed, worn denim cupping his tight ass, biceps braced as he focused on flipping through the pages of a book. Was that hers? Her stomach tightened at the idea of him looking to find the sex scenes now that she'd given him a taste.

Cassandra cleared her throat. "I don't want to seem rude or speak out of turn, but please be careful. He dated my cousin, Michelle, and she hasn't been the same since."

Aspen couldn't help being fascinated. Had Brick dated a different woman each night? It didn't seem that he could get around to so many in such a small coastal town. "I thought he stuck to tourists," she ventured.

"He switched up once enough of us locals began sharing information," Cassandra said. "Eventually, the women he hurt formed a support group."

Aspen blinked. "There's a Brick Babel support group?"

Cassandra nodded. "They try to warn susceptible women who don't know about his reputation. Members meet every other Sunday. It's a safe place. You're welcome to join…afterward."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry over this new fact, so she just thanked her and finished with the last two readers.

Table clear, room half-emptied, she quickly calculated that she'd sold twelve new books and signed twenty-two reader copies of Fifty Ways . She thought wistfully of the whirlwind year when bookstores didn't have enough room for customers and demand for her presence swept the US. Hitting the number-one slot on the New York Times was a true fairy tale. The real problem?

Aspen had never considered that the glory would eventually end.

Now, she realized there was no guarantee of repeated success, and here she was chasing the hit years later. Somehow, she'd lost her value of writing a good story and the quiet satisfaction and pride of reaching the end. All of it had morphed into a messy ball of icky emotions from envy and sadness to frustration. Finally writing the sequel could be exactly what she needed to exorcise the demons and reclaim her mojo. God knew she missed the young girl who scribbled for hours in a room alone, chasing the story. Those were the times she was the happiest.

Aspen pushed the disturbing thoughts aside and thanked Ursula. She tried not to apologize for selling such limited quantities and reminded herself that tons of authors were grateful for even one purchase. Beating herself up wouldn't help her muse when she tried to write later today.

Marco came over with her new book clutched in his hand. "Aspen, that was amazing! Can you sign my book?"

"You don't have to buy it, Marco."

He looked offended. "I want to. I loved the scene you read. You're such a badass. Are you feeling…better?"

She laughed. "Yeah, but I wasn't feeling that bad an hour ago, either."

"I'm so sorry, Aspen. I fucked up. I never would've given you the brownie if I thought you didn't know."

She waved a hand in the air. "It's okay, I'm not mad." She took the book and scrawled a short message with her signature. "Thanks for babysitting me."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Brick is pissed. I never saw him so protective over a girl before. He really likes you."

Startled, she lifted her gaze.

And crashed straight into Brick's.

Book lowered, those baby blues were trained intensely on her face as if checking to see if she was okay. A blush threatened when she thought about him listening to her read that sensual scene. His eyes darkened as if catching her thoughts, and his lower lip quirked in amusement. A shiver raced down her spine when she thought of those lips over hers, coaxing, teasing, demanding.

Dragging in a breath, Aspen broke away from the intense stare and returned the book to Marco. "Um, yeah, we're still getting to know each other."

Her sister appeared, arms crossed in front of her chest. She looked like the typical older sibling ready to rip her apart. "What was going on with you today?" Sierra asked. "I swear, it was like you were on something."

Both she and Marco winced. "Was it that noticeable?"

"To me? Yes. You were giggly and unfocused and…oh, my God, that scene you read? I mean, it was hot and well-written, but Brooklyn's grandma was here, and her eyes got so wide I thought they'd pop out of her head."

"Bet she bought a book," Marco said. Sierra gave him a hard stare, and his shoulders dropped. "I'd better go check on Brick."

Sierra watched his retreat with suspicion. "He's involved. He and his crew are always smoking weed at the T-shirt place and—" She broke off, noticing Aspen's guilty look. "You. Did. Not."

"Not on purpose. I ate a brownie and didn't know."

"How could you not know? Did he drug you? Did Brick? Let me know, and I'll go kick their asses so hard—"

"No!" A half laugh escaped at her sister's warrior expression. "I swear, it was just an honest mistake. I bet I'll find the whole thing hysterical tomorrow. Tell me the truth. Besides the reading, did I do anything else bad?"

Some of the tension left her sister's body. "You rambled a little. And at one point, you were looking at the ceiling and trying to catch something, which weirded us out."

She groaned. "I kept seeing these little stars floating above everyone's head."

Sierra grinned. "Damn, you were tripping. I wish I'd videoed it to make fun of you later."

"You have enough blackmail material on me. You don't need any more."

"True. My fave is when you got drunk and vomited all over Slater's shoes when he came to pick you up for junior prom. You always sucked at pre-gaming. Should've known a little brownie would get the best of you."

Aspen sighed. "Why do you always have to bring that up?"

"‘Cause it's fun." She jerked her head. "Going home with him or me?"

"Don't know. Did you realize there's a support group for women he's hurt?" Aspen whispered.

"Sure. I'd say be smart enough not to be a member, but I think that's exactly what you want. To write the book well. Right?"

Her sister made perfect sense. She nibbled her lip. "Maybe I can interview them. Get a sense of how Brick works his magic."

"If that's what you need. He was looking out for you today, though. It was a new look for him."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Sierra shrugged elegantly. "He hovered. Stared at you the whole time as if trying to anticipate what you'd need. I don't know. It was kind of nice."

She didn't have time to process the statement because Brick was walking over with Marco. "I'll drive you back to grab your car," he said. "Are you ready?"

Her sister raised a brow, but Aspen ignored her. "Sure, let's go." She hugged her sister goodbye, and they headed out. "Buy something?"

Brick held up the bag. "Some new reading material."

"Thought you didn't read much."

"Oh, I want to read this now."

Aspen wanted to squirm with discomfort. Like signings, she preferred not to know the people reading her work. Brick would get a firsthand view of her brain, thoughts, and vulnerabilities. Hopefully, he wouldn't get around to reading it or quit after the first chapter. He may only want the CliffsNotes version of her.

Marco chattered nonstop about the signing and knowing someone famous. They dropped him off at the shop, but when Aspen moved to leave the car, Brick reached out and grasped her wrist. "You need to eat."

She tried to ignore the sizzle of heat running up her arm from his touch. It was so…cliché. "I'm good, I'll eat later."

"Nope. You didn't have any breakfast, and lunch was a pot brownie. I'm taking you to lunch."

"I can stop later."

"Now, Aspen. You look like you're ready to collapse."

She took in his determined expression and realized he was right. She was depleted from the whole day. Usually, with the toll on her energy, she slept hours after an event. Her stomach was a bit nauseous. "Okay. Somewhere quick, though. I need to write."

He nodded and drove to Sundogs. They grabbed a table, ordering two lemonades, a crab cake sandwich, and a burger. Jimmy Buffet sang from the speakers, and the casual beach vibe relaxed her. She sipped the tart liquid and regarded him across the table. "I'm waiting."

Brick cocked his head. "For what?"

"To be yelled at. Or taunted. I know I said some things to embarrass myself. Take your best shot."

He only grinned. "Honestly? You were great at the signing. Made everyone laugh and feel connected. I always thought those things were boring as hell, but you proved me wrong."

They were good at banter, so she'd expected to trade barbs. A warm rush of pleasure flowed through her from the compliment. "Sierra said I giggled, was unfocused, and shocked everyone by reading a sex scene."

Those massive shoulders lifted. "So what? It entertained and got people to buy the book."

Aspen analyzed the statement, poking for any judgment, but none was there. "Is that why you bought it?"

"No. I'm curious to know how you see the world."

The comment threw her off, but their food came, and she dove in with gusto. The remaining fogginess dissipated, and her body clicked back into place. "Did you know there's a support group for women you broke up with?"

He winced. "I was hoping it was just gossip."

"Nope. Cassandra said her cousin was devastated after dating you. Do you remember her?"

Brick ate a fry, not seemingly concerned. "Meredith?"

"No, Michelle."

"Oh, yeah. Please don't tell me she's in the group."

Aspen had gotten a salad with her sandwich and kept getting distracted by his fries. Sensing her greedy stare, he pushed his plate to the middle, adding more ketchup. Aspen swiped a fry and enjoyed the salty crispness. So much better than a salad. "Cassandra said she is."

Brick shook his head. "You gotta be kidding me. I had one date with her."

"Must've been a multiple-orgasm date."

His brows snapped into a frown, and that mouth firmed with displeasure. He was sexy, even when pissed. "I didn't sleep with her. Took her to dinner, heard about her desire to be married like her sister, and drove her straight home. I didn't even kiss her goodnight."

Aspen paused in the act of stealing another fry. "Oh, wow. It's the magical pussy challenge, I think."

Brick choked on a sip of lemonade and regarded her with wide eyes. "What the hell did you say?"

She grinned. "It's a big trope in romance, but it also exists in the real world. Basically, women fall for a guy who's unavailable and believe they can change him. It's pretty heady stuff."

"What type of term is that? I've never heard it."

"Why would you? We hope that once you have physical contact with us or great sex, you'll suddenly want to change your ways because we're the one. The one who gets to tame you and win you for marriage or love or whatever."

"Because you have a magical pussy."

She grinned smugly. "Exactly."

"Is there such a thing as a magical dick?"

A laugh broke from her. "Not that I know of. It's usually the men who are running."

Suddenly, a shadow flickered over his face. In seconds, Aspen caught a flash of pain in those ocean-blue depths, but it was gone so quickly she wondered if it had been a trick of the light. "Sounds about right."

Aspen wanted to probe but wasn't sure what to ask. His reputation was legendary. No way it was created by innocent women sharing some exaggerated gossip. "You're not going to argue that all the women are lying about being hurt by you, right?"

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in the booth. A charged silence settled over the table. "No. I'm saying it became easier to lean into the gossip and make me the villain at some point."

"So, there's truth to some of the stories?"

"Yep."

"Which part?"

A slow, smug grin curved his lips, flashing white teeth. She caught her breath at the bold confidence in his gaze as it swept over her and heated. "Guess."

Her nipples hardened, and her belly dropped. She forced a laugh. "I don't want to know."

Brick regarded her with laser focus. Her skin prickled in response. "But you will. Very soon."

The spit dried up in her mouth at the sensual threat, and all Aspen could think about was being able to kiss and touch him without stopping. Of tumbling into bed with all that naked male glory pressed against her, unchecked, uninhibited, and…wild. Would sex with Brick allow her to tap into the part of herself she'd lost after Ryan? Could she reconnect with the emotional side and breathe new life into her characters? Would being vulnerable and getting her heart broken by this man unlock the key to a bestseller?

She needed to find out. It was too late to back out of her plan. But to get there, she needed to open up to him.

"You're thinking way too hard, Aspen." His tone teased her out of the spiral. "Finish the fries, and I'll take you home. It's been a long day."

She opened her mouth to push back, then realized he was right. She needed to rest her overactive brain and figure some things out. Aspen ate a few more fries. Brick paid the bill and then drove her home.

"Did you talk to Sierra about us? She seemed less intent on destroying me today," he said teasingly as he walked her to the door.

"Yeah, we had a fight, made up, and now she's agreeable."

"I think it was nice that she was trying to protect you," he said. "Always wished I had a sibling to lean on after losing my mom."

She caught the flare of vulnerability in his gaze and ached to touch him. She clenched her fingers into fists to keep from reaching out to comfort him. Brick gave her a quick, gentle kiss on the lips and smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded and went inside. Sierra wasn't home, so she went to her bedroom and powered up her laptop. Dragging it to the bed, Aspen propped up some pillows and began to write. She played with ideas for her heroine, but over and over, she kept cycling back to the hero .

An isolated, slightly grumpy, sexy man who lived alone on the beach, spending his time with the wild horses. A man who crushed hearts too easily until he met the heroine—a free-spirited writer from New York who changed everything. Suddenly, he was the one whose heart got stolen, taken by a woman who never intended to stay. The one who brought a bittersweet sense of karma to a single summer that would heal her and destroy him.

Aspen chewed her lip. And wrote. Fingers on fire, the new story formed in jagged pieces, based on Brick, his past exploits, and the one woman who could change him.

The magical pussy trope struck again. But this time, it was bigger, deeper, a sprawling story of two souls that would change each other in one idyllic summer in the Outer Banks. Fact mingled with fiction. It was a story Aspen was living, but instead of focusing on the heroine, she realized it was the hero's tale. Told mostly from his POV, it would be different from anything else she'd written yet still familiar.

Brick was the key.

She wrote until she collapsed onto the pillows, exhausted. And fell asleep with a smile on her face.