Not at all what he expected of the sweet legal secretary from the first meeting. He groans when she wiggles closer, her hands playing with the top few buttons on his shirt. Sam watches with a frown as his brother drains his beer bottle, signals the waitress with a brief smile and points asking for another. “We had coffee.”
“That’s it?” Dean whines. Sam feels Dean’s eyes on him and rubs the bridge of his nose when his big brother gives him the thumbs up from the booth. “Yeah, Sammy?”
Pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth for a moment, he says, “Shut up.”
Dean scowls and reaches over the side of his mattress for a discarded boot. Wild and untamed. “Absolutely,” he answers with a shrug. Redressing himself, his eyes stay fixed on hers. “Absolutely,” he answers with a shrug. They’re from handling weapons and hours spent typing or writing notes longhand. “If I do this, will you promise to shut the hell up?”
Dean’s eyes dance and he takes another pull from the neck of his bottle. “Was she good? Megan’s tongue darts out to moisten her lips and he watches the flick of the pink muscle. “I promise I’m not a stalker,” he tells her, taking the seat next to hers.
