AS THEY WALKED to Hugh’s car, his gut twisted. With the moonlight sparkling in Bree’s eyes, he’d been a breath away from kissing her. She’d looked at him with such worry in her eyes that all he could think about was how good it would feel to kiss it away and bring the sparkle back to her eyes—the one he’d caught glimpses of earlier in the evening.
He clicked the key fob and unlocked the Roadster.
“Is that your car?”
“I could lie and say no, but I don’t really believe in being dishonest with people I consider friends.” He squeezed her hand, and she slipped her hand out of his grasp.
She stepped closer to the car and covered her mouth, then looked at Hugh and shook her head. “Who are you?” she whispered.
Hugh had never wanted to be someone different in his life. He was proud of the things he’d accomplished with his racing career, his college degree, and his family. But at that moment, with a hint of fear in Brianna’s eyes, he wished he were Joe Nobody. He stepped closer to her and ran his hands up her arms to her shoulders. She felt so small beneath his jacket.
“I’m the same guy I was in the bar and the same guy you had coffee with. I’m Hugh. Hugh Braden.” He shrugged.
She drew her eyebrows together again, and the worried look deepened, stealing her smile and replacing it with a serious mask. “But who are you?”
“How can I answer that, Bree? I’m a son, a brother, a friend to some people. That’s who I am. And a guy who wants to get to know you better.” He knew he couldn’t avoid telling her what she wanted to know, but every bit of him screamed, Let her see the real you first!
“What do you do for a living?”
He slid his hands across her shoulders and cupped her face with his hands. “Does that really make a difference?”
She stepped out of his grasp. “Maybe.”
“I’m not a drug runner, or a thief, or anything else that you’d be ashamed of.” The muscles in his neck knotted.
“Is it that difficult to tell me? Are you married?”
“No.”
“Ever been?”
“No, Bree.” He stepped forward, and she stepped backward. “Bree.” He glanced away and ran his hand through his hair. “All I wanted was to get to know you without my career hanging over our heads. That’s all. It’s so hard to be normal when people know who I am.”
“So you’re someone important?” She crossed her arms.
“No. I’m not.” He stepped closer. “I’ll tell you who I am, but please don’t judge me by it, and don’t…change. You’re so sweet and kind and good.”
“I’m pretty sure I can remain the person I’ve been for the past twenty-eight years even if I know who you are.”
“Are you sure? Because I really enjoy spending time with you, and once you know who I am, you might see me differently.” Like everyone else I’ve ever met.
“Hugh, why would I do that? You are who you are.”
Hugh didn’t know what drove him to take her face in his hands, or to look her in the eyes and ask, “May I just kiss you once before you know who I am?” but when she nodded in agreement and he lowered his lips to hers, he was glad he’d done it. Kissing Bree was the sweetest thing he’d ever experienced. Her lips were soft and full, her tongue tentative, then a minute later, eager, but not too aggressive, and she made the sexiest little moans that he wasn’t sure she realized she’d even emitted. He wrapped his palm around the base of her neck and deepened the kiss, slowly loving her delicious mouth, and then her delicate hands were on his waist and every bit of him hungered for more as she ran her fingers up his back and their bodies came together. They kissed until they had no fresh air in their lungs. Every breath of his became hers, and when they came away, Hugh was numb, breathing hard and fighting the desire to take her in another greedy kiss.
“Thank you.” He kissed her forehead and moved to open the trunk of the car so he could show her his racing jacket.
“Wait.” Bree grabbed him by the back of his shirt. Her fingers trembled against his skin. “You’re really worried that it’ll change how I see you?”
He shrugged. “I hope not, but I wanted you to know me for who I am before you knew me as what I do for a living. But…”
“And you’re not going to tell me that you’re something bad? Someone I should be afraid of?” She closed her eyes. “Wait. That’s a stupid question. If you were, you wouldn’t tell me.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. Her perfume wafted up at him again and he nearly lost his voice. “Bree, you don’t know me, and I barely know you. And I know you have no reason to believe or trust me, but I promise you that I will not ever lie to you, even if I worry that it’ll hurt you. I think honesty is one of the most important things a person can promise someone, and I promise you honesty.”
“Hugh, this is so unfair.” She put her hands flat on his chest.
Her touch felt so good, so right, so different from that of the grabby, forward women he was used to being with. He placed his hand over hers just to feel the realness of it.
“I want to know who you are because I can’t protect my daughter unless I know who I’m involved with. I respect your worry about things changing, and you’re right, I don’t know you, but I think for Layla’s sake, I have to risk things changing. I have to know who I’m with to protect her.”
Hugh’s heart swelled in his chest. He nodded, unable to find words to express how beautiful that love for her daughter made her appear. He opened the trunk and took out his racing jacket, emblazoned with the logos of his sponsors, and his black driving gloves. Without a word, he handed them to her.
She ran her fingers over the logos, along the sleeves, and she traced the number thirty-two on the left breast. Then she took the gloves from Hugh and placed them on top of the jacket. She spread her petite hand over one enormous glove and smiled when her fingers reached just past the indentation of the second knuckle.
She looked up at him, then back down at the jacket. “This is supposed to mean something to me, and I get that, but, Hugh, my life is work and my daughter. I’m not sure what gloves and a jacket like this really mean. I know I sound stupid, but I’m not. I guess I just live in this tiny bubble of first grade, board games, and making ends meet.”
Hugh didn’t even try to fight the urge to reach out to her. He folded her in his arms and pressed her to his chest. “I really like that about you.” When they drew apart, he put the jacket and gloves back in the trunk and withdrew the latest issue of Racing magazine, then placed it in her hands.
She looked down at it, and he watched her eyes narrow. She blew out a long breath as she ran her fingers over the image of his face. She squinted, her mouth set in a serious line. Then she looked up at him and touched his cheek before looking at the magazine and running her finger over the image again, as if she were comparing the contours of his jaw.
“So, this is you?” she said quietly.
“That’s what I do, not who I am,” he clarified.
She nodded. “It’s dangerous, right?”
“You could say that.”
“And this is why we haven’t seen you around, right? You travel a lot, to race?” Her fingers were still running over his image.
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “I’m glad I know.” Worry lines stretched across her forehead. “I know about the race track, but honestly, I’ve never been. I don’t have time to breathe, much less follow any sort of sports, but there are entire bars in town that cater to the fans. Restaurants too.”
“I know. I purposely avoid them.”
She nodded again, as if she understood, and Hugh wondered if she could possibly realize what it was really like to wonder if people gravitated toward him for what he represented rather than who he was.
He reached for the magazine, and she pressed it to her chest.
“May I keep it?”
He felt the air around them shift, and he didn’t like the way it blew her a little farther away than she’d been a moment before.
“Sure.” He opened the car door and closed it after she was settled in the luxurious seat. “It’s after two. Why don’t we go by my place so you can pick out—pick up—a car. I’ll follow you back to your place, so you’re not arriving home alone this late, and then, when your car is done tomorrow, I’ll bring it to you and we’ll swap cars.”
“I can’t take one of your cars,” she said. “By the looks of it, your cars are worth more than my mother’s house.”
Hugh reached across the seat and took her hand in his. “You’re borrowing a car. I promised you’d have what you needed, and I always follow through with my promises.”
She shook her head. “Hugh, I wouldn’t feel comfortable in an expensive car. You saw what I drive. It’s a nine-year-old Honda Civic. Not exactly a luxury car. And it barely runs. That’s more my style.”
He leaned across the seat, and he knew he was pushing his luck, but he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer, then pressed another soft kiss to her lips. “I respect whatever decisions you make, but you’re a working mom, and you don’t have your daughter with you tonight at least partially because you need to work tomorrow. Take my car; fulfill your obligation; then you can forget you ever drove it.” He started the car and drove toward home.
By the time he pulled into the garage, Brianna had been asleep for ten minutes. Hugh had a lot of experience with women. He could handle drunk women, horny women, tired and cranky women, but he had absolutely zero experience with beautiful women he actually wanted to get to know in more than a carnal way falling asleep in his car. Should I wake her up? Carry her inside? Drive her to wherever she lives and carry her inside there? Her face tilted toward the window and her hands were folded in her lap. She could have been just closing her eyes for a moment, save for the even, peaceful breathing that came only when all the cares of life were set aside—and he doubted that Brianna set aside her cares easily. She was definitely sleeping. She’d worked a long shift at Old Town Tavern, and she had said she’d had an appointment before that, which he now assumed, given her financial situation, was a second job of some sort. She had to be exhausted. He thought about his oldest brother, Treat, and wondered what he would do in the same situation. Treat was the epitome of a gentleman, and Hugh looked up to him for that and for many other reasons. He nodded in the silent car and made his decision.
Brianna snuggled against him as he carried her down the hall to the first-floor master bedroom, where he laid her on the king-sized bed, removed her boots, and covered her with a blanket. She rolled onto her stomach, and her dark hair fanned out from her head. Hugh had seen many women in his bed, but never had he stood above the bed and looked down upon any of them without a sexual thought in his head, as he was now. He felt a type of respect for Brianna that he had never realized was missing with other women he’d dated.
He switched on the fireplace in the corner of the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and settled into the recliner by the window. When he took in her beautiful face against his pillow and thought of how fiercely she protected her daughter, he wondered who was protecting her. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be that person.