“Jealous enough to beat up on one of your brothers?”
“Nearly ripped his car door off.”
I roll my eyes. “Just what a girl loves to hear.” Except, it is.
Dixon’s fork maneuvers past mine to attack a piece of pineapple. I fend him off with my knife. He grins and clears his throat, changing the subject. “And thank you for the second time we met, too.”
“Second time?”
“I think most guys would consider themselves pretty lucky to get a lap dance on their first date from you.” He exhales and reaches down to adjust his belt. “Christ, we need to get out of here before I lose it at this table.”
“You looking for a private showing?” I tease.
“Not looking. Begging,” he answers without an ounce of humility.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I must warn you that they don’t run cheap.”
He huffs through his nostrils in a brutish, animalistic way that cranks up the heat between my thighs and makes me truly regret goading him. “Name your price and I’ll pay it so long as it’s mine and only mine.”
My voice softens. “You know it is.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then all at once jerks up to standing. He offers me his hand and with his other, collects Brant in his arms. “You’re going to move in with me one of these days.”
“Coming from the guy who just told me he tried to drink himself to death when Mer moved in?” I laugh, though his expression remains sober enough to shut me up. “You’re serious.”
He comes up behind me as we reach the door and jerks my body to his. “Have I ever lied to you?” He whispers in my ear, low enough that the sound sizzles.
“No,” I whisper, only answering that last part because the first is too distant. His hand snakes down the front of my jeans but I push away from him as a group of three older women head down the sidewalk towards us.
“I’m a good southern girl, Dixon,” I say, and I have no idea what I’m responding to. It doesn’t seem to matter because Dixon’s eyes are fire and I’m grateful for the biting wind because it helps settle the more ravenous impulse bubbling inside of me too. I’ve never felt like this before: so lustful.
On the drive home he takes a call from Aiden before placing another call immediately to Knox. He evades me when I ask him what the terse, clipped calls were about, much in the same way he evaded me when I asked him why Clifton had been so cold to him this morning when we’d been about to head out. He makes a face and tells me not to worry. Then we’re driving into my apartment’s parking lot.
I don’t notice something is off immediately, but when Dixon looks over at me with a huge grin on his face and my heart lurches along unapologetically I know to be wary. “Looks like Erol’s finished with the repairs.” He honks twice and I notice the car parked in my spot for the first time. But the car isn’t mine at all.
Dixon pulls in beside it and gets out. He greets the guy around the rear of the vehicle and as I step out into the cool air, keys exchange hands. “Erol, this is Sara and Brant. Sara, this is Erol, the genius who managed to entirely repair your piece of sh…” He pauses and laughs when my scrunched up face turns towards him. I can’t decide if what I’m feeling is more horror or confusion.
“Pleasure to meet you Sara, Brant.” The man tilts his head down, fingers lightly brushing the brim of his baseball cap. “Car’s all ready for ya.” He speaks in a gentle southern lilt, one that reminds me of home. “Hope you like how she purrs.”
“I think it’ll be a refreshing change from the sound her car used to make.” Dixon places his hand along the back of my neck and gives me a gentle squeeze. My jaw is just hanging open. I don’t say anything. “Sara?”
“I…this…you…”
Erol laughs and starts to turn. “I’ll leave y’all. Got to get back to the lot.”
“Thanks again. You need a ride?”
“No, Jason’s coming to pick me up. Should already be on the corner at the entrance.” He gives a small salute before leaving us in silence.
Dixon breaks it. “So?”
“So you…” I hoist Brant higher up on my hip as Dixon dangles a set of keys in front of me. One of the fob kinds with only two buttons because everything else is automated. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“In a good way, I hope.” He wears a smile, but I can see that he’s actually nervous and not just my heart but my whole freaking chest melts. I’m a puddle on the ground but Brant’s spontaneous laughter solidifies me.
Brant furls and unfurls his fingers as he stretches towards Dixon and Dixon reaches for him. “May I?” he asks.
And the whole perfection of the day is complete. My eyes water and I quickly nod and hand Brant over. He shrills with happiness when Dixon bounces him high in his arms. “If you hate it, I can get you something else but I can’t have you driving around in that piece of…”
“No. I just…I could have never afforded this car in a million years. It’s a BMW.” Bright red, and new. It’s a BMW. Easily the nicest car in the lot. That worries me a little, but not as much as it should. I’m just so overwhelmed by the thought of having a car that’ll consistently start.
“You alright?” Dixon comes to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders.
I bury my face in my hands and nod. “I can’t believe this.”
“I hoped you’d like it.”
“It’s a bit flashy,” I sniffle.
He laughs loudly and ruffles my hair. “I know. But so am I. Hang around with me and you’ll end up in labels and rocks so big they weigh you down.”
I roll my eyes. “Lovely.”
“You want to take it for a test drive?”
“Only if you promise me no rocks, no labels, no nothing.”
“The first two we may be able to compromise on, but nothing? Not on my life.”
I couldn’t have imagined driving anything like this before getting behind the wheel, but afterwards, couldn’t imagine Brant’s car seat in anything else. Dixon got the model with all these kid-friendly custom features – seatbelt made for clipping in a car seat, extra leg room for the expandable versions, kid control windows and locks, and a steering wheel that only unlocks with my fingerprint. As I pull back into the lot into my parking spot, I kill the ignition.
“I just…” I bow my head and a wave of sadness grips me. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you, but I want you to know that I’m going to try.”
I’ve barely finished speaking when he leans across the center console and presses his mouth to mine. “You can pay me back in anything but currency.” His gaze sweeps the length of my body, coming to rest on my breasts, which aren’t anywhere near visible underneath his oversized jacket.
A nervousness tickles my heart, but the expression on his face makes me smile. I coil my arms around his neck and lean into his cheek. I kiss it and whisper against his flawless espresso-colored skin, “You said you wanted to watch me touch myself this morning. Maybe I’d be willing to give it a try.”
He groans as I slide my hand over the bulge in his jeans, then grabs my wrist. “You’re aching for punishment aren’t you?”
“No. Just aching to punish you.” I slip out of the car on a laugh and, grabbing Brant, let Dixon follow us up to my apartment.
After the car, the help with Brant and with my own finances, not to mention after seeing his place, it really is difficult to say no when he asks me to move in for the third time as he’s standing on my doorstep. He’s glaring at my neighbor’s door and I wonder if it’s the smell of weed that bothers him so much.
“They’re harmless,” I say, pushing open the door and heading to the couch. Brant’s blanket is spread out on the floor where a coffee table should be and I place him on it. The moment he’s so much as out of my grasp, Dixon comes and covers my body with his and I am laughing as I poorly defend myself against the onslaught.
“No, no, no. I can’t do pay
ment now. You have to leave.”
“Why?” He says, straightening up and rubbing the bulge below his belt buckle.
“Don’t whine. I’ve got to get some homework done. Seriously, I am so behind and I have an eight am class tomorrow.”
“I’ll just sit here and play with Brant then.”
I laugh. “You will not just play with Brant. You will distract me at best.”
“At best I’ll do a lot more than just distract you.”
I’m still laughing as he lets me push him to the door. He kisses me and has only barely broken the kiss before he asks, “When will I see you next? Your answer better be tomorrow.”
“Monday is always really crazy for me. I have classes in the morning and lab at night. Tuesday should work though. Just two classes in the morning, then the whole afternoon off since I don’t start my shifts at Westfield until Wednesday.” He draws away from me so I lean forward and place both hands on his chest. It’s so warm. I can feel the heartbeat pulsing under his skin. “I’ll miss you until then.”
“You’ll have little to miss. I’m going to call you every hour on the hour until I see you again.” He covers my palms with his and, lifting my hand, kisses each of my fingertips. As I stare into the darkness of his chocolate eyes I wonder if he’s serious.
“I’m serious,” he says.
I pull away from him and huff, “You’re crazy.”
I feel a subtle tension eke out of his gaze, which pans past me and looks to Brant. He doesn’t contradict my accusation but instead smiles and says, “I’ll talk to you in an hour.”
“Okay.”
I watch him head down the hall away from me – and Brant – and my chest fills with sadness. This is the honeymoon phase right? Where everything is picture perfect. Seeing him leave feels sacrosanct.
As he gets to the mouth of the stairs, he turns back and points at my chest. “You had better pick up.”
I stick out my tongue. “I will.”
He leaves with one last smile and a lingering look.
Plumeria
“So how are things going between you two?” I say the moment Sara gets up and heads to the kitchen for more beers. She’s staying overnight again, this time with Brant, and even with the baby in tow Dixon couldn’t look more goddamn pleased. He fucks her with his eyes as she walks and I have to clear my throat and repeat myself a couple times before I think he hears me.
He rubs his face roughly. “Sorry. Yeah. Things are going good. Too good. I know it’s only been two weeks but it feels like it’s been longer than that.”
Knox throws his arm over my shoulder and wrenches me in for a kiss that’s so hard, I have to fight back. As I do, he coos, “I know what you mean.”
Dixon looks at his near-empty bottle and sets it on the floor. When the baby crawls towards it, he lifts the kid up and onto his lap, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. Makes me feel even shittier about my lack of a maternal instinct. Since I first met the kid a few days ago, I haven’t touched him once and Sara sure as hell hasn’t asked me to. As a good mom, I think she can sense my aversion to the idea of motherhood. ESP must be one of the perks.
Not that he isn’t cute or anything. The kid could go Gerber with his mulatto skin and head of inky black curls. He’s got light brown eyes too. Pretty eyes. The eyes are the only thing about him that give any indication he isn’t Sara and Dixon’s kid. Dixon’s eyes are so dark they’re nearly black and Sara’s are as blue as the ecstasy pills Loredo used to traffic. Drugs have been on my mind these days. This never-ending game of telephone between me and the Brothers. Every hour on the hour. It hasn’t failed yet. But when will it end? Somehow I get the feeling that when it does, I’ll wish I’d never asked.
“I owe you guys one hell of an apology,” Dixon says abruptly. He looks at me first and with meaning before flicking his gaze to Knox.
Knox shakes his head and reaches over me to slap Dixon on the knee. “Don’t sweat it, man. Hard to explain how it feels to fall hard unless you’ve done it yourself.”
Dixon doesn’t smile, but again looks at me. “I owe you more than you think.”
He knows that I haven’t told Knox and I won’t, but it’s still a power imbalance that I don’t think he’s accustomed to feeling. I could tell Knox and ruin the relationship he has with his brother irrevocably but I wouldn’t. I never would. I put all their lives at risk. No hit would have ever been out on my life if I hadn’t introduced chaos into theirs. And the Mexicans have been so quiet. I wonder if there’s a war raging further north that we haven’t heard of yet because the Mexicans aren’t like the Russians. There’s no waiting like a viper for the right time to strike. There’s only now.
Aiden never did find Loredo’s right hand, the fucker who escaped. Maybe he did die. Only I somehow get the feeling he didn’t. The helpers never get their comeuppance. They live in the shadows of monsters and when those monsters fall, they scurry to other shadows like cockroaches destined for survival.
Sara returns with a beer in each hand. She hands two to Knox and me and when Charlie enters the room with two more, he pawns one off onto Dixon and the second, he empties. I can’t help but notice that Dixon’s grip tightens around Sara’s shoulders as she takes her seat beside him, holding a glass of water in place of alcohol. He glances up at Charlie in the way a kitten looks up at a cobra. I muffle my laughter in my beer, but Charlie still hears it.
He kicks the edge of my foot as he struts past, as much a peacock as ever. “What’s so funny?”
“Besides that outfit? Where the hell do you even find a silver shirt?”
He holds out the lapels of his jacket and does a slow turn for us. “Where ballers buy shirts, baby.”
“Bold,” Knox says with a nod.
Charlie’s unfazed. Rather, he dusts off the sleeves of his eggplant-colored blazer and heads to the door. “Going to meet up with Portia so I may be slow to respond to calls today, if you know what I mean.”
“Not an option,” Dixon shouts over his shoulder. “Every hour on the hour.”
I add to the chorus. “You ignore my call, I’ll whoop your ass like I did last week.”
Charlie waves his hand into the air, shrugging us off. “Yeah, yeah.” The front door opens and shuts and I laugh quietly.
“Kid’s a real killer,” I muse. “Not many men could pull off silver and purple at one in the afternoon.”
“Sh…” Sara starts to say shit, but doesn’t quite finish. Instead, she’s up on her feet, setting her beer down and scooping up her baby. “I completely lost track of time. I need to head to my shift. It starts in an hour and I’ve got to go home and change, then drop Brant off at the sitter.”
Looking forlorn, Dixon stands and starts after her. They say their goodbyes and suddenly Knox and I are alone. It isn’t often that we’re alone these days so I work hard to maximize any free moment we get together. “So,” I start.
“So what should we do for the next few hours before we’ve got to be at the barn?” I hear the salacious lilt on his tone and I lift mine to match it.
“I’ve got some ideas.” Rising up onto my knees, I take his earlobe into my mouth and purr, “Mini golf.”
“Again?” He says on a laugh, wrapping his arms around my waist.
I let him manhandle me for a moment, then take my knee to his chin and roll off of his lap and onto my feet. He kneads his jaw as he rises with me and I hold up both fists, backing away from him. “I sort of missed out on that whole childhood thing. Mini golf last week was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”
“You embarrassed?”
It took his asking for me to realize it, but I am embarrassed. “No.”
Shit-eating doesn’t touch the grin he’s wearing as he saunters over and wraps his arm around my neck. “You’re so fucking cute.” He kisses the top of my head, then my lips more deeply. “Come on, put your shoes on. I guess we’re going mini golfing.”
Sara<
br />
I’m in complete panic. I’ve got less than half an hour to get to my shift and I’m not close to changed yet. It took far too long to get Dixon off my doorstep. He’s a pesky fellow, I think to myself, a grin on my lips. I laugh and Brant, seated on the floor on his favorite pink and blue blanket, looks up at me. He grins this gummy little grin and laughs shrilly before shoving the plastic pretzel in his hand into his mouth. He’s teething. The happiest little guy I’ve ever seen with the white caps of little teeth sprouting into his smile.
I stare at him for a second longer than I have time for and sigh, “How did I get so lucky to have you and Dixon in my life?” For a moment, I imagine that this is what princesses must feel like.
There’s a knock on my door. Dixon probably forgot something, or is just gambling to see if he can get away with bothering me for a few more seconds. He always can, because I’m too weak to say no. I’m light on my feet as I approach the door and when I wrench it open, I’m startled as it springs back when the chain catches. Standing there is a white male with light brown hair and blue eyes and a subtle scar marring what would otherwise be a near perfect face. Perfect, but not the one that I dream about.
“Oh hey, Neil. What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” he breathes and there’s a tension in his forehead that transforms his face. He looks worried, and it’s that worry that keeps me from trying to shoo him away. “I didn’t know what else to do. It’s Sherry.”
“Oh my god, what happened?” Everything in my chest shudders to a stop and I forget all about work and any other obligations that I might have had. The warmth that had been sitting so high in my ribcage freezes over and my bones turn to splinters underneath my skin.
“It was an accident. I’m worried though…” His voice trails off and he glances at the chain between us.
“Oh sh… Sorry. Just a second.” I close the door, rip back the chain and hold it open. But then Neil’s face softens, the anxiety gone from his expression as his shoulders roll back and his mouth relaxes into a natural frown. Suddenly he isn’t the man I saw that one night at the bar, or the sweetheart who showed up with Sherry on his arm at the strip club or the concerned friend he appeared to be seconds ago. He’s a stranger I’ve never met before.
The Hunting Town (Brothers Book 1) Page 28
