The Situation (Brewer Family #5)

by Adriana Locke

“This is the moment when I say something clever and you laugh,” he says, his gaze dancing with amusement. “But I have completely lost my train of thought.” “Why?” “Because I expected to sit next to someone much older and much less attractive than you.”

“I’m Tate.” And I’m screwed—and not in the way I’d like to be right now.

“I will. But, for now, I have other, more important—more interesting—things on my plate.” Gannon groans. Again. “Do I even want to know?” “I’m pretty sure I met my wife today.”

“We met on the plane and connected. We had a moment. I can’t explain it.” “I bet you did.” “You know what? I don’t like your tone.”

“I need to send her something when this is over,” I say, then stop and stare at the wall. “Who can I get to send it if she doesn’t send it for me? Such a quandary.”

“And to think I’m the lucky bastard who gets the privilege of sharing the evening with you.” Holy shit. Universe, I accept.

This delicious, insightful bastard. Dammit.

“What are you after, Tate?” He holds my gaze unabashedly. “The mother of my children,” he says without apology.

“You have to save yourself from what?” I shrug. “Myself. I’m a romantic at heart and have a habit of falling for the first man who crosses my path when I’m vulnerable. And traditionally speaking, the first man to cross my path isn’t the one for me.” “That makes total sense.” “Good.” “It seems as though a few motherfuckers cut in line.”

My brain sorts through a plethora of things I’ve done in the past few days that I shouldn’t have because I knew better. Converse with Tate on the plane. Staging a run-in with him at Ruma. Going to his room and letting him bend me into a pretzel. I snuck out, ignored my boss’s calls, and ate half of a pie in my hotel room with a plastic spoon. Even though it was the best damn pie I’ve ever tasted, it still made me nauseous the whole flight home. And then I agreed to work under the guy I just laid under like I have some magical ability to separate the two. The list goes on and on.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She shrugs noncommittally. “When have you ever lived dangerously?” “I just took a date with Curtis, for fuck’s sake. That’s living dangerously if I ever heard it.” “No, that was just … again, self-sabotage.”

“It was good seeing you, Mr. Brewer.” He gives her a dazzling, panty-dropping smile. “You, too, Tally.” She trips on a chair leg on her way out.

“But wouldn’t it also be ridiculous to allow fear to hold you back from something that has the potential to be amazing?”

“Who knew you were a love guru?” I ask. “You’d be surprised. I was quite the rascal back in the day.”

Me: Hey, fam. Jason: Hi. Renn: Yo. Bianca: Hey, Tate! Me: I have a very serious favor to ask you. Silence fills the chat. I’m about to try to re-engage them when Ripley responds. Ripley: To ask who? Me: All of you with a kid. Renn: Bianca: *gulps* Me: I need to borrow one of them. Jason: One of what? Me: One of your kids. I roll my eyes at their ineptitude. Can’t any of them follow along?

“Do you see that guy?” Mimi asks, pointing at the screen. I glance up to see five cowboys who all look the same. “Sure. What about him?” “Can you imagine that guy fighting with his woman about where to eat? Hell, no. He’s taking her to dinner and then back home to eat, if you know what I mean.” She smirks. “And that's what women want.” There’s nothing I can say to that without painting a picture that does not need painted.

“Your burgers are here,” she says, setting our plates in front of us. “Do you need anything else? Ketchup? Refills?” Earplugs.

“Your body is fucking fire, but your brain is the sexiest thing about you,” he says. “And I mean that in the best way.”

My features display shock, in that my ex-stepdaughter is my … whatever Tate is to me at this point’s best friend. Tate’s features also display shock in a much more entertaining way. This is not going to be good. “You’re the hot stepmommy,” he says, his eyes twinkling. “What are you talking about?” He climbs out of bed, laughing hysterically. “Why didn’t I put this together before now? It all makes sense.” He faces me as if he just solved world hunger. “The Legends! That’s why that was so familiar to me.” “How did you know that?” “Carys might’ve stalked you—don’t judge her, though. Never tell her that I told you that.” She stalked me? “Okay …” “It was harmless,” he says. “Don’t panic. Anyway, I saw a picture of you looking hot as fuck in your cheer uniform. And I’ve always teased Carys that I wanted to bang her hot stepmommy. Now I’m banging her hot stepmommy.” “Never call me that again.” He cackles. “New kink unlocked.” “Stop it!” “Wanna role-play?” He wiggles his brows. “You can⁠—” “Tate! Stop,” I say, trying not to laugh at his ridiculousness. “You didn’t even hear me out.” I sigh. “You can call me Daddy if you want.”

Tate arches a brow. “The website is the home of the organization,” I say. “It can’t look like shit. And if they can’t understand what we’re going for, I’ll find someone who can.” He grins. “I like you fiery.” “You should’ve seen me an hour ago. I threatened a printer. Had it quaking in its boots.”

“What are we doing? Tate asks, stretching out beside me on his bed. “Rotting.” “Rotting.” He tests the words on his tongue. “What the hell does rotting mean?” “It means we rot.” He makes a face. “Which means what?” “It means we’re going to lie here and do nothing. No effort. We’ll get up to go to the bathroom and refill drinks. That’s it. Think of it as if you’re charging your batteries.” He grabs his cock and shakes it. “My batteries don’t charge unless I’m plugged in.”

“Either tell me what’s wrong or get out of my house,” Mimi says, her tone teasing. “I fucked up.” “I gathered that. How?” My hands slide down my face, pulling my lip as they go. “I showed my ass.” “Nobody’s going to be mad at that.” “You’re not helping, Mimi.” “I’m old. If you don’t get to the point fast, I might croak.” I sit up, sick of myself. “Here, I’ll help,” she says. “You messed up with Girlfriend #2. Take it from there.” Despite my shitty mood, I can’t help but smile at Girlfriend #1.

“Oh, Tate.” She sighs as if this might kill her. “You’re proof God can’t give brains and beauty to the same person.”

“I just want to marry her,” I say. “I love the fucking shit out of her, Mimi. I want to take care of her and spoil her rotten. I want to have a family with her. What’s wrong with that?” She groans. “Let me see how many crayons I have lying here so I can draw you a picture.”

“You’re really mean today.” “Somebody has to be. Someone must remind you that you can’t be a brat.” My face pops up to face hers, my eyes wide. “A brat?” “A brat.” She crosses her frail little arms over her chest. “You can’t always get what you want.” “I know that, okay? Chill out.” “No one says that anymore.” “How do you … Never mind.”

“Thanks, Mimi. I love you.” “Aw, Tate. I love you, too. But this round of your bullshit about killed me. You owe me one shirtless trip around the neighborhood next week.”

“You bought a franchise so I could see what I can do with it?” I ask, slowly blinking. “Tate, this is … you might need to be committed.”