Hott and Handled (The Hott Brothers Book 3)

by Leah Sharelle

  “I don’t think a four year age gap makes you a cougar Farron,” I muttered dryly. All her points sucked balls, there was nothing that couldn’t be overcome. Her being a mum didn’t faze me in the least, I was looking forward to getting to know her kid and bringing him into the fold with Drixx, Noxx and Daxx.

  “Nixx are you listening to me? We will not work!”

  “Why not?” I asked calmly, unconcerned at her vehement declaration. Somehow knowing that Farron was scared, but not uninterested. I felt her attraction to me all the way down to my size eleven boots.

  “Oh, my giddy aunt,” she mumbled, dropping her face to her hands; she shook it, then sucked in a deep breath and faced me slowly.

  “I had a horrible one-sided marriage. We only married because he knocked me up, we only stayed together because he didn’t believe in spousal or child support. I spent nine years in a marriage where I didn’t ever hear him call me an endearment, he never held my hand. Christ, I have never had an orgasm that didn’t come from my own hand, and even they were nothing exciting.”

  “I am not the woman for you Nixx. You need to find someone younger, with less baggage, financial and emotional. Have kids with someone who is sexually capable of giving you what you need.” Farron stared at me, her brown eyes sad and resigned, her breathing coming out in uncontrollable pants due to her outburst.

  Without taking my eyes off her, I resisted the urge to wrap my hands around her slender throat for the shit that she just spewed at me. Instead, I downed the last of my coffee, popped the last bite of pizza into my mouth and chewed while watching her in silence.

  If there was one thing I excelled at, it was reading a person. And Ms Farron Hill was an open book in my reasoning. Her fuckwit ex was exactly that—a fuckwit. Mistreating this beautiful creature was his first mistake; letting her walk out of his life was his second but it was my reward. Farron and Dillion were mine, if she needed time to come to terms with that, then fine. No problems.

  A pink flush appeared on her cheeks, and her cute ample bottom squirmed on the tailgate as she watched me watch her.

  “I will be back here tomorrow around lunchtime to fix your shed. I wouldn’t mind a few more of these tasty delights if that’s okay,” I said, handing her my mug, and tugging my cap out of my back pocket and slamming it down on my head.

  “What?”

  “It needs some working on it, locks for one and a decent door. Anyone can sneak in and nick one or all of your trailers.” Deliberately misunderstanding what she meant when she asked me what.

  “Nixx, did you not hear me? I just told you why—”

  And just like that, some of my well known and practiced patience snapped. Taking two quick strides, I pushed myself between her dangling legs, with the cups in her hands, she had no way of pushing me away unless she spilt the drink in her mug over me. Closing in, I leaned down, and with my nose touching hers, I smelt the fragrant coffee on her breath.

  “Oh, don’t worry Farron, I heard what you told me. I just don’t give a fuck about any of it. You need time, I can give you that. You want to come up with excuses, then knock yourself out beautiful. But be assured, I will not take no for an answer.”

  Her lips were so close if I closed my eyes, I could imagine what they would taste like, but I didn’t want to close my eyes and risk losing even a second of seeing her gorgeous, brown eyes.

  That was how obsessed I was with her.

  Allowing myself just one touch, I ran my nose down the length of hers then back up again. Kissing her was going to have to wait until she was in the right place to give it, taking it wouldn’t do.

  She had to give it willingly or not at all.

  Her intake of breath and the shudder I felt running through her was the only thing that gave me the strength to pull back from her.

  “I may be an arsehole sometimes Farron, a little bullish and a lot stubborn, but what I am not is your ex fuckwit. He didn’t see what he had for nine years, and I saw it the second I walked into your restaurant for the first time and noticed you behind the counter.” Forcing some distance between us, I stepped back one step then another. My heart nearly breaking when her eyes filled with the sheen of tears.

  Fuck, I wanted to hold her and whisper all the things she deserved to hear. Tell her how beautiful she is and promise her the world. But I didn’t, not yet. There was only one thing I could give her for now.

  “See you tomorrow baby, think of me tonight when you are in bed. And while you are at it, know that one day you will never have to make yourself come again because that will be my job. And trust me sweetheart, it will be my fucking pleasure to do it.”

  Walking back to the truck, I avoided turning back to look at her until I heard her call out my name.

  “Won’t you be in tonight for dinner?” she asked me in a small but hopeful voice.

  “Aren’t I always sweetheart?” Giving her a wink, I waited for a smile, it wasn’t big or even a happy one, but it was there and that was all I needed to know she would come around.

  I was going to make sure of that.

  FARRON

  “Mum, you have washed that plate already. You will rub the pattern off soon,” Dillion complained, standing beside me at the kitchen sink.

  Since Nixx took off calmly as you please after my embarrassing spew of words two hours ago, I had been in a daze. Everything that happened outside and at the farm played on a reel in my head. Over and over, I tried to remember not just every word he said to me, but what his eyes looked like as he stared so intently at me, how his mouth thinned when he was trying to control himself. And how his amazing blue eyes blazed at me with hunger when I yelled that I had never had an orgasm during sex.

  “Oh god, why did I say that?” I muttered, dropping my chin to my chest.

  “Say what? You haven’t said two words since I got home,” Dillion replied, thinking that I was talking to him, and why wouldn’t he think that considering he was the only other one in the room.

  “Sorry kiddo, I was thinking out loud,” I apologised, hoping that he would be appeased and leave it alone. However, my son didn’t work that way, he had a sixth sense when it came to me.

  “Righto, now enough with the bull crap. What is going on?”

  “Dillion! Language!”

  “Mum! Explain!” he yelled back, his brown eyes so much like mine shone with mirth and mischief. Dillion liked to swear, but he knew I didn’t like him doing it because his father had such a potty mouth. So instead, my son played the play on word game with me. Funny, I didn’t like the way Alec swore like a trooper, but Nixx’s didn’t worry me. Every second word with him was fuck, or some creative expletive to describe something or someone. Remembering the matter of fact way he called Alec a fuckwit, brought a giggle to escape from my lips.

  “Mum?”

  Looking at my son, I resisted the urge to reach out and ruffle his long messy hair. He was overdue for a haircut, but with my hours at night in the restaurant and all his activities after school, there wasn’t enough time to scratch myself, let alone find a half hour to sit in a salon. Dillion didn’t like to sit idle; the boy was a human hurricane, he didn’t have a pause or a go-slow gear. The only time he was still was homework time and sleeping.

  “Um, do you remember the guy that is putting the big tip in the tip jar at the restaurant?” I asked him nervously.

  “Sure, I sat at the bar and waited to see who was doing it, remember?”

  “Yes, yes you did. Do you know who he is, I mean what family he is from?”

  “Isn’t he a Hott? Mark said he is Fenixx, he is a triplet.”

  “Yep, that’s him. I, ah, I went to his farm today to pick up the ovens after leaving them there last night after the reception I catered for his brother’s wedding.” I was stalling, I knew it, but only because I had no idea what I wanted to say or why I was even bringing Nixx up at all.

  Nixx rattled me, and not just earlier when he dropped off the ovens, but the whole day. Going from a year of not
hing but intense staring to some major over the top alpha behaviour from him was confusing, and quite frankly, I didn’t need it. Want it? Maybe.

  No! Relationships and I did not have a good track record. My history was just one man, and I didn’t even manage to pick the right one then. I often wondered had it not been for getting pregnant, would that have given Alec and I the time to fall in love for real? Not that I was wishing away the direction my life took, having Dillion and becoming a mum was the best achievement to come out of my marriage from hell. I might have failed at being a wife, but being a good mum made up for that in spades. Dillion came first, always. The feelings Nixx evoked deep inside me had to stay exactly that. Deep and buried.

  “Um, it is just that … um, his mother invited us to go to their farm, the Triple H. She and I were chatting and I told her you like to ride dirt bikes. She offered the farm’s paddocks to ride around and we can even use the tennis courts,” I told him, deferring from whatever I’d actually intended.

  “Wow! That is cool. So if his mum offered, why did you mention Fenixx?” Dillion countered.

  Damn, smart kid.

  Pulling the plug from the sink hole, I busied myself with wiping down the sink, and tucking the dishcloth and washing liquid in the cupboard below the sink.

  “You know, just letting you know what his mum offered, and stuff,” I mumbled, feeling my face heat up for what felt like the thousandth time today.

  Damn sexy, flannel-shirt wearing, maddening cowboy.

  “So translation, you like-like Fenixx Hott?” Dillion enquired, shocking me with his insight. How on earth does this kid do that?

  “No, son of mine. I do not like-like Nixx Hott,” I shot back, sticking my tongue out to cover my shock and embarrassment. “You are on kitchen duty tonight at the restaurant, so you best get in your room and finish your homework, or you won’t be riding any bike or visiting anyone after school next week, young man.”

  “Whatever you say, Mother,” Dillion snorted, then laughed when his voice broke slightly. My boy was going through the change in life all teenage boys went through at some stage. His voice was getting deeper all the time, but occasionally the adorable high-pitched scratch reared its head, ruining his newfound growl.

  “Ha-ha, that’s what you get for making fun of your mummy.” Poking my tongue out at him again, grateful for the perfect timing of hormones to get me off the hook. One thing Dillion hated was me calling myself mummy, I knew it and was prepared to use it to stop him talking about Nixx.

  “Geez Mum, must you,” Dillion grumbled, tossing the tea towel at me, hitting me in the side of the head. “And don’t think I didn’t see that look on your face when you called him Nixx, either woman.” Throwing me a triumphant grin, my smart-mouthed kid left the kitchen, leaving me speechless.

  Damn. He had me there.

  ***

  For the twentieth time, I found myself looking at the front door of the restaurant, a frown forming between my brows.

  Where the devil was he? Every night at seven o’clock, Nixx walked through the door, wound his way around the tables, sat himself in the back booth closest to the open kitchen, and stayed sitting there staring at me. Five minutes ago, when I looked at my watch, the pretty timepiece told me it was nearly eight and there was no sign of him.

  Maybe I pissed him off, or perhaps he took what I said about no chance for us on board and decided to cut his losses. Maybe, just maybe, he saw that he was wasting his time and money chasing me.

  “Bastard. So much for staking his claim,” I muttered, yanking out the flexi hose and filled the glass on the bar, squirting out lemonade until it reached just below the rim of the glass then slamming it down on the drink tray, making the bubbly soft drink flow all over the metal tray.

  “Something pissing you off, gorgeous? Or someone?” The sound of that deep timbre voice, that I was quickly addicted to now I had heard it, startling me into a girlie shriek. Which set Nixx off laughing and that sound was even better than his growling.

  “Good grief, Nixx. Warn a woman when you sneak up on her,” I admonished, clutching at my chest.

  “And miss out on hearing you call me a bastard. Not on your life.”

  “How do you know I was talking about you?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could while filling up another glass, this time with raspberry lemonade and adding it to the tray. My waitress for the night came over and took the drink order, giving Nixx a wink and a huge smile.

  “Hey there Hottie 3, fancy seeing you in here,” Macy joked good-naturally. Her easy nature was the main reason I hired Macy, that and her knowledge of the locals. Now I was wondering just how far her knowledge went with Fenixx Hott. Had they … did they ever … jealousy flared in the pit of my belly. I couldn’t understand the wild feeling of wanting to rip Macy’s strawberry blonde ponytail out of her hair from the roots, but there it was anyway.

  “Hey, Spacy Macy, how is your granddad doing these days?” Nixx asked her, accepting a peck on the cheek from her.

  “Same as usual. Stubborn and annoying. Last week we found him in the shearing shed crutching sheep. Dad threatened to put him in a retirement village in the city,” she laughed and I felt another green streak of envy pass through me. It was obvious Nixx and Macy had history, a history he and I would never have.

  “As if darlin’, your granddad was born in Cattle Ridge, and he will be here till his last day on earth.” The two spoke so easily with each other I couldn’t help feeling like a third wheel. I knew nothing about Nixx, not really. And after three years of having Macy as an employee, I never knew she had a grandpa, let alone that he was ill.

  Ducking my head to hide my emotions, I moved away from the two friends and headed over to the antique jukebox. The whole restaurant was decorated like an old-time Aussie pub. The previous owners made a start but had to sell due to bad health and a desire to move closer to their kids in another state. Deciding to keep the theme going, I added some rustic fence palings on the walls instead of painting them and polished reclaimed wood floorboards from the front door to the back. Intimate seating for two and family tables littered the place strategically around the area I set up as a dance floor. I wasn’t sure that the residents of Cattle Ridge wanted a place to go and dance, and honestly, at first, they didn’t. The expensive jukebox played every night, selections of music from the eighties and nineties, the music I loved to listen to, and not one person got up for six months. It wasn’t until one of the older regulars suggested I program in some country music as well, and low and behold, all it took was a Garth Brooks CD and Friday and Saturday nights became legendary. Farmhands and cowboys came from all over the district to enjoy a night of beer, pizza and boot scootin’, bringing with them their wives, significant others, or ones they just wanted to spend a few special hours with relaxing. Whatever they were to each other, country was the theme, and dancing and having fun their goal. I certainly hit the jackpot when it came to changing my business plan, men–I had yet to get lucky with, though.

  Behind me I could hear Nixx saying good-bye to Macy, expressing his interest in visiting her grandfather one day soon.

  Damn, he is so nice, genuinely a nice person. Perfect, in fact. The thought entered my head as I chose a song from the selection. I recently changed the program list to keep it fresh and interesting for my patrons.

  Pressing the two buttons, I leaned my hands on the domed glass of the antique unit and closed my eyes when the first bars of one of my favourite songs started to play. Involuntarily my body swayed to the beat, and I locked out all the background noise and concentrated on Garth’s soothing voice.

  “I never pegged you for a Garth Brooks fan, gorgeous,” Nixx spoke softly from behind me, close behind me. So close, his woodsy cologne wafted through my nostrils, permeating my senses, sparking need and desire to flow.

  “Hmmm, I never used to be until I bought this place,” I answered, staying still with my back to him.

  “I guess living here in the heart of cattle country,
it is pretty much a requirement to develop a taste, hey?” Nixx’s voice got closer, I could feel the heat of his front radiating on my back, warming me. How did he do that without even touching me?

  “I guess,” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat when I felt the lightest touch of his hand on my hip. Tensing, but not because I didn’t like the feeling, but because I did. Earlier, when he touched me, each had been just as gentle yet so terrifying in the way they evoked a part of me I thought didn’t exist in me anymore. Alec was not a touchy-feely man, at least not with me. His favourite gripe about me was that I was a cold, frigid ice queen, never inviting his touch. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Our first time had been painful and traumatic for me. What I built up in my teenage mind about sex, in reality, was nothing short of disastrous. Alec never took his time to ready me, a virgin with no knowledge of what her body needed to accept a man into her body. My parents sheltered me from the world of boys, sending me to an all-girls catholic high school on a full scholarship from the church, vetting my friends and approving any friend I did manage to make. Even sleep-overs were a trial, days of back and forth with the parents asking questions of who was going to be in the house. Did they have sons, and if yes, what were their ages? It was no wonder the minute I got a taste of freedom, I had sex with the first guy to show me interest.

  We ended up in separate rooms after Dillion’s birth. Alec stating he needed his sleep, and a crying infant would just keep him awake. He thought it better for me to be close to the baby so I could get up before any of the noise reached our … his room. After six months and no invite to come back to our bed, I assumed he liked the arrangement, so instead, I set up that spare room as mine and moved in there.

  I really did get screwed in my marriage.

  Garth crooned through the speakers, the song telling a story of a man nervous about going on a blind date, pretending that everything was okay. Not unlike how Nixx made me feel. Nervous, only I wasn’t pretending. My smile was real, as were the tingles shooting to my core every time Nixx’s fingers softly moved over my hip.