The Feel Good Factor(16)

I stare at my brother. “Seriously, how have you ever had a girlfriend? How is that even possible?”

Vanessa coughs then stares purposefully at her plate. I shoot her a quizzical look but return my focus to my brother. “Seriously, Shaw. Man meat?”

“So, who is the man meat, and do I need to beat him up?”

I laugh, because even though he’s a complete pain in the ass, I do love his crazy-protective side. “No, you don’t need to beat him up. He’s . . .” My voice trails off, and I’m not entirely sure what I want to tell them. I go with the simplest of details. “He’s focused and determined, and he has these sunburst tattoos all the way up his arm.”

“Ooh,” Mom says, squeezing Dad’s arm. “I’ve always loved the inked ones.”

Dad eyes his unmarked arm. “Does that mean you want me to go out and get a tattoo, Gail?”

Her eyes darken. “No, dear, I don’t think it would suit you.”

“You don’t?”

“I’m kidding. Could you get one across your chest? Make sure to put my name in it.”

“Count on it,” he says then drops a kiss on her cheek.

“You two are so in love it’s kind of gross, except it’s totally awesome,” I say.

Gabe and Arden raise their glasses, and Arden adds, “It’s thoroughly awesome.”

Mom looks to me. “Tell us more about your kissing partner. What’s he like?”

He’s a filthy, fantastic, hot-as-sin lover. He likes to flirt and kiss and tease, and drive me out of my mind with pleasure. He’s cocky, confident, and knows what he wants. He wants me.

But none of that is for public consumption. I spear a bite of tomato in the salad, hold it up, and give them a PG version. “His name is Derek, and he kisses like the only person I could ever imagine kissing in a kissing contest.”

Shaw makes a sound like a laugh met a cough, sputtering in amusement. “Seriously?”

I stare at him curiously. “Yes, what’s so weird about that?”

“Nothing,” he says, his expression instantly turning serious. “That’s just epic.”

Vanessa laughs. “Why is that epic?”

“That is the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Why?” I press.

Shaw smiles sweetly, reminding me there’s a good guy underneath his constant desire to needle me. We might drive each other crazy, but we love each other like mad and look out for each other as only family can. “I’m just excited you’ve found somebody you can picture kissing for that long.”

“Thank you, Shaw. I never thought I’d hear you say such a nice thing. But yes, I do think more practice will indeed help.”

“Practice makes perfect,” he adds.

“See? Isn’t it nicer when the two of you get along?” Mom asks.

Shaw nods. “I’ll have you know I’m a very nice brother. If memory serves, I’m helping you rent the room above your garage.”

I soften more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re incredibly helpful. And I love to give you a hard time, but you’re actually the best brother a girl could ask for. You’re a Neanderthal sometimes, but other times you’re quite civilized and sweet.”

Shaw grins. “And Perri, you’re a pain in the ass—”

“Language,” Mom chides.

“But you’re super awesome too,” he adds.

I smile at him. “Super awesome and civilized. See how great we get along?”

Shaw grins. “In fact, I think you’re going to be amazed at how civilized I am.”





10





Derek





At the Barking Pug that night, Shaw raises two fingers to catch the bartender’s attention then turns to me. “Drinks are on me.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

The mustached bartender slaps down two napkins. “What can I get you?”

“Two beers. Whatever’s good on tap.”

“Got an IPA tonight that you’ll like, Shaw,” the guy says.

“That work for you?” Shaw asks.

I drum my fingers against the scratched wood surface of the bar. “I’m one hundred percent not picky about beer.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

The beers arrive, and Shaw thanks the bartender then slaps some bills on the counter. “So what do you think of our small town so far?” He raises his glass to take a drink.

I swallow some of the beer. “Can’t complain. The people here are great,” I say, flashing back to the market yesterday, and yeah, I’m thinking of Perri, but I’m also thinking of all the people I met while working my sister’s baked goods booth.

“Yeah? Have you met a lot of folks yet?”

“Definitely. At the market yesterday, a lot of my sister’s regulars were welcoming, asking me questions, wondering if I needed anything, could they help, et cetera.”

Shaw cocks a brow. “That so?”

I laugh lightly. “Does that surprise you?”

“Were they, by chance, female?”

I picture the long line of volunteers yesterday then concede his point. “Fine, most were.”