Why Don't You Stay? ... Forever (McLaughlin Brothers Book 2)

by Jennifer Ashley

  Erin pops out of her seat, drink forgotten. “Come on.”

  She grabs me by the hand and leads me from our hard-won table, down the tiers and to the dance floor.

  I don’t recognize the music playing. Something with a fast beat, computerized voice modulators, and instrument simulation. I know how it’s created, but I’ve never heard the song.

  Erin and I squeeze onto the floor. Lots of dancing going on—groups, couples, women dancing together. Erin and I find a relatively open spot with some difficulty.

  She puts her hands on my shoulders and sways into me. Not the best way to get me to move—my feet are frozen to the floor. I want to savor the moment with Erin, not shake my body. I’ll look like an idiot anyway.

  Erin proves her dance knowledge goes well beyond ballet. She finds the beat and slides her body in effortless moves. She becomes the music, first flowing, then rocking, hips, arms, and legs moving in perfect time.

  She catches the attention of those around us. They gravitate toward her, naturally attracted. I kind of shuffle my feet and pretend to dance, but no one is fooled.

  “She’s outta your league, dude,” a guy informs me. He wants me to fade so he can dance with Erin.

  Screw that. I move closer to her. Erin lays her arms on my shoulders and rocks against me.

  “See? Can’t dance.” I canter back and forth, way off the beat. “These guys will lynch me to be with you.”

  “No.” Erin shakes her head. She takes off her glasses and stuffs them in the little bag she carries on her wrist. “I’ll show you what to do—Dean does a lot of standing while I work.”

  She wrinkles her nose as she confides this, as though pleading with me not to tell Dean she just said that.

  “Dean seems like he knows what he’s doing even standing still,” I say. “Not me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make you look good.”

  Erin spins around once, and I realize from the sudden gleam in her eye that she was just getting warmed up.

  The song changes to a new one, but to me it’s essentially the same, only a little slower. Similar wavering female voice, booming under-beat, and synthesized lead instruments.

  The slightly slower tempo makes Erin’s moves more sensual. She can take her time with her hip sways, her graceful arms, and her body swishing against mine and away. I’m afraid to move, because I don’t want the whole club seeing I’m getting hard for her. Desire can be so inconvenient.

  Erin rests her hand on my shoulder as she kicks her leg out, her skirt swinging. She arches back and then slides around me like a harem dancer in an old movie.

  People are watching, admiring, envying. Erin moves against me in beautiful waves, her entire body feeling the music.

  She places my arm around her waist, then shows me how to toss her from one half embrace to the other arm. Erin falls against me then pivots and falls again, as though gravity will take her at any moment. But I feel her strength, her perfect sense of balance that betrays how much control she has.

  I’m proud of myself for figuring out the move, but Erin isn’t finished. She tells me in my ear to lift her under her hips, and I scoop her up with one arm. She positions herself, which helps me shift my weight to do it right.

  I spin around with her. She’s half sitting on my arm, half holding on to me. The picture she makes is a graceful curve around my body, as beautiful as anything she and Dean do together on stage.

  Around and around we go, me getting slightly dizzy, but Erin never wavers.

  The song winds down as we glide in a wide circle like ice dancers. We have room because the crowd has backed off, watching us in awe.

  “Slower.” Erin’s voice warms my ear. “End with the song.”

  I don’t know when the song’s going to finish, but finally, the beats peter out, and the woman singer finishes with a whisper: I want to be with you, tonight.

  Erin and I halt, me on one knee, Erin draped against my torso. She cups my face with one hand, gazing down into my eyes.

  The dancers in the club whoop, amazed and happy with our performance.

  Erin smiles as she nuzzles my nose, and fire takes me. There has never been a more perfect moment—outside of bed with Erin—than this one.

  I decide to make it even more perfect. I brush her cheek with my thumb, gently pull her close, and kiss her.

  Erin’s lips are soft, her breath hot from dancing. She kisses me with abandon, wrapping her arms around me.

  The crowd cheers again, long wooo’s coming from the guys. Eat your hearts out, fellas.

  Another song begins. I barely hear it. I have Erin kissing me, and we’re together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

  Erin lifts her head and brushes a kiss across the bridge of my nose. She looks into the throng around us, and abruptly freezes.

  “Oh, shit,” she whispers.

  I stand up and assist her to her feet, though she’s steadier than I am. I glance to where she’s staring, and understand her alarm.

  At the edge of the group, eyes fixed on us, are my brothers. Ryan, Zach, Austin. With Ryan and Zach are Calandra and Abby. Austin is alone, and he’s the only one laughing his butt off.

  Standing beside my brothers are, unbelievably, my mom and dad. Here. In a club in downtown Phoenix, on a Friday night.

  Erin starts to tear her hand from mine, but I don’t let go. There’s nothing we can do now.

  The secret is out. My whole family has seen me kissing Erin, and now we find out what kind of shit will hit the fan.

  Chapter Nine

  Erin

  The entire McLaughlin family has just witnessed me kissing the hell out of Ben.

  I scan their faces—what are they even doing here?—and find mixed reactions. Austin is grinning as though he’s not a bit surprised. Ryan’s not surprised either, but he’s glancing at his parents as though worried about their response.

  Zach is amazed. His mouth is open, his eyes wide, and he’d look comical if I wasn’t so mortified.

  Abby, next to him, is beaming at me. She gives me a fist pump. I don’t know Calandra well, but she appears happy with me too.

  Now for the McLaughlin parents, the people I actually work for. Mr. McLaughlin—Alan—regards us thoughtfully. I can’t tell what he thinks. Virginia does not look pleased. Not outraged or shocked or anything. She’s … disappointed?

  “Holy crap.” I try again to wrest my hand from Ben’s, but his grip is tight. “I’m outta here. It was nice working for you all.”

  “No way.” Ben tugs me closer. “They saw. They can suck it up. They’ll like you better if you don’t run.”

  I know that’s true. I’m not usually such a coward. But now I have to look Virginia McLaughlin in the eye and admit that, yeah, I’m sleeping with her son.

  We don’t have much choice about fleeing anyway. McLaughlins surge around us, three brothers, Abby and Calandra, and the parents. Austin is the first to reach us. He winks at me and slings an arm around Ben.

  “Nice dancing, bro. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “I don’t,” Ben says. “It was all Erin.”

  “I saw that.” Austin gives me a thumbs-up. He lets Ben go to put his arm around me. “Chin up,” he says in my ear. “Mom’s scary, but she’s got a good heart.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter. “Wait a minute. Why don’t you seem surprised? Ben, did you tell him …”

  “Nope.” Austin cuts in quickly to save his brother. “I guessed. Plus, Ben asked me for a good place to take you out. I said this club. Am I right?” He waves his arm at the room like a proud parent.

  “This was your idea?” I’m not sure whether to be angry or laugh. “Well, it was … actually, this was wonderful. Thanks, Ben.”

  Ben, who’s been watching Austin warily, blows out a breath. “I felt stupid asking a dancer to go dancing.”

  “No, it’s perfect. I love to dance. It’s nice to do it for fun, no pressure.”

  Until now, with his family bearing dow
n on us. Austin and Ben remain on either side of me, a buffer against the rest of them. Abby tells me they have a big table on the first tier, and invites us to join them. Zach, recovering his shock, rushes off to get us fresh drinks.

  I’m not sure how it happens, but I find myself seated next to Virginia. She’s watching me with eyes the same color as Ben’s, though Ben overall looks more like his father.

  I decide to confront her head on. “If you want me to quit, I will.” I lift the glass of wine Zach has just set down in front of me. “But I’m not sorry I’m going out with Ben. I really like him.”

  “Why should you quit?” Virginia asks. Her drink is a blood red wine, same as mine. “I need your help.”

  I’m relieved she hasn’t instantly demanded I stay away from Ben, but I’m a little confused. “If it’s awkward,” I try.

  Ben is next to me, his arm around me, but he’s fending off questions from Zach on his other side.

  “It doesn’t need to be awkward.” Virginia has a piercing gaze. “But I wish I’d known. You don’t have to sneak around, you know. I really like Ben too.”

  Alan leans around her, his expression kind. “She’s only mad because you didn’t tell her right away. Ginny hates being surprised.”

  “I don’t hate to be surprised …” Virginia begins.

  “I threw her a surprise party for her fiftieth birthday, and I thought she’d blow a gasket.” Alan lifts his hands. “Never again.”

  “I wasn’t mad. It was a wonderful party.” Virginia sips wine, as though realizing she’s losing control of the conversation. “I was just … surprised.”

  “You should have heard her language. I don’t think our friends ever laughed so hard.”

  “Are you talking about Mom’s surprise party?” Ryan leans over. “Yeah, that was something.”

  “Will you stop going on about the party?” Virginia demands. “This concerns Erin and Ben.”

  Alan pats her hand. “I think they have things figured out. Abby and Zach work fine in the same office. Erin and Ben will too. They have so far.”

  “I’m not angry at—”

  Alan doesn’t let her finish. “Come on, let’s dance. I need to shake it. The music is calling.”

  Virginia shoots me an appealing look, as though begging me to save her, but I decide to sit back and smile. Alan tugs her up. Virginia releases her wine glass at the last moment and lets her husband tow her to the dance floor.

  Austin slides to take Virginia’s seat, watching his parents. “Do I want to see this?”

  “Of course you do,” Abby says across the table. “It’s sweet.”

  “Bleh.” Austin shudders.

  Ben takes my hand. “You okay?”

  “I think so.” I let out a breath. “Your mom is scary. Especially since I work for her.”

  “We all work for her,” Ben reminds me. “Don’t worry. She likes you.”

  I’m starting to feel better. Virginia didn’t glare me down and fire me on the spot, and the others seem to be okay with me sticking my tongue down Ben’s throat. Zach has lost his dumbfounded expression and is smiling at us now.

  “Wow.” Austin continues to watch Virginia and Alan, who are on the dance floor, Alan holding one of Virginia’s hands. They spin and sway, perfectly at home with the music. “Hey, who knew Dad could boogie?”

  “I did,” Ben says. “Mom and Dad dance all the time. They did competitions when they were in college.”

  “Seriously?” Austin leans back with his drink. “How do you know this and I don’t?”

  “I pay attention when they talk.” Ben relaxes, his arm resting on the back of my chair.

  I like the feeling so much, I snuggle into him. Austin’s eyes glint, but what the hell? They know. Now to find out if they think me a temp girlfriend, like in my job, or what I hope—that this happiness I’ve found with Ben will last.

  Ben drives me home. “Good night,” he says when he pulls into my driveway.

  He’s not turning cold—I understand he’s trying to be nice. Worried I’m upset about his family descending on us and thinking I might want to be alone. He’s already told Austin he’s a dead man for bringing them all there. Austin looked cheerful about that.

  Virginia was much happier by the end of the night. Dancing with her husband, surrounded by her kids, a grandchild on the way … I think she decided that me and Ben snogging on the dance floor was not so bad in the grand scheme of things.

  Maybe that’s what Austin was trying to show her. I won’t let Ben kill him, in that case.

  I reach over and take Ben’s hand. “Stay,” I say softly.

  His grin flashes, the crooked one I’m growing to love. Ben sets the brake, turns off the truck, and kisses me.

  We steam up the windows by the time we’re done. Then Ben hops out, dashes around to my side, and escorts me from the pickup. We dart inside the house—no dropping my keys this time—kiss frantically once the door is closed, and make our hurried way to the bedroom.

  Ida had been right that Clarice wouldn’t pair me with Reuben. All week, he dances with the corps de ballet in a secondary male part Clarice invents for him. Dean and I rehearse separately from them.

  When I peek inside the large practice room at Clarice’s studio, I have to admit Reuben is good. He picks up the steps quickly and even helps those who are in the scene with him without losing patience.

  He could be like that, nice to the point of donating a kidney. Before, I’d thought him a wonderful human being. Now I have to wonder what he’s up to.

  When I reach the theater Saturday, with Ben, Reuben is even apologetic.

  “Sorry I went off on you,” he says to Ben. Reuben’s face is half made up, his skin powdered and rouged, lips outlined. A paper bib protects his shirt. “I confess, I was crazy about Erin. You can see why. But hey, I had my shot. Now it’s your turn.”

  Ben’s obviously not buying the contrite act, but Reuben doesn’t notice and rushes away to finish dressing. Dean, already in full face paint, risks wrinkling his thick eyeliner by scrunching up his face.

  “Kiss-ass,” he says in Reuben’s direction. “How are you, Ben?”

  “Just fine.”

  Dean looks him up and down. “I can see that. You’re glowing. Erin’s good for you.” He pauses thoughtfully. “You’re good for her.”

  I have to get into costume, so I kiss Ben quickly and slip away, trying not to blush at Dean’s assessment. Dean, instead of making for the warm-up area, holds back to speak to Ben. They’re getting along well, those two.

  The performance tonight is excellent, all of us on peak. Reuben is really good, I have to admit, injecting an energy into the part of the show that had needed something more.

  Dean, who will never let any male dancer upstage him, does better than usual. Competition brings out the best in him. He also gives fair dues, and when Reuben gets great applause, Dean brings him to the front with us and we all three take a bow.

  Afterward, Reuben remains cordial, congratulating everyone on a good show.

  When Ben comes backstage, Reuben gives him a friendly greeting and disappears into his dressing room.

  I still don’t trust him.

  Ben takes me home. And he stays. This time, he’s brought an overnight bag and has stocked up from the drugstore. At the rate we’re blowing through condoms, we’ll need reserves.

  As I lay next to him, trying to catch my breath after an intense round of lovemaking, I wonder where this is going.

  Should I worry about it? Or simply enjoy what I have? Ben and I might not last together—the future is always uncertain. Being with Reuben taught me that.

  My thoughts scatter when Ben rolls onto his side and softly kisses me. The kisses grow stronger, Ben’s hands bringing my body to life.

  Before we go further, we clean up with a shower, which involves more kissing, caressing, sliding soap in all the right places. When we return to the bed, I push him down onto it and climb on top of him. He’s surprised, but does
n’t argue when I straddle him, lowering myself onto his waiting cock.

  It’s wonderful rocking on him while he cups my breasts and smiles up at me, his eyes dark and soft. I’ve done things with Ben I’ve never tried before, and my heart is full.

  The next day is the Sunday matinee, where Reuben again performs well, and the show is a hit.

  When I hop into Ben’s truck afterwards, he hesitates before he turns on the ignition. “I’ve been instructed to show up at the folks’ house for Sunday dinner,” he says, sounding apologetic. “I’m supposed to bring you. But if you’d rather go home, I’ll drop you there. I won’t inflict my family on you if you don’t want to see them right now.”

  My heart sinks, but I force a smile. “No, it’s fine. We can go.”

  Ben’s brows rise. “You sure?”

  I shrug. “I’ll have to face them sooner or later. Better now, with food and wine to make everyone mellow, than on Monday morning before coffee.”

  He watches me another moment, then starts the pickup. “All right. But anytime you want out of there, tell me and we’ll leave.”

  “It will be okay.” If I say it often enough, I’ll believe it.

  We arrive at the house, Ben holding my hand as we walk in. We’re immediately intercepted by Calandra and Abby, Zach behind them.

  “We need to talk wedding plans,” Abby sings to me.

  Zach claps Ben on the shoulder. “Run,” he says to Ben. “Trust me.”

  Ben clearly doesn’t want to leave us, but Calandra and Abby promise to take good care of me, and Ben finally lets Zach lead him off.

  The ladies take me to the corner of the backyard where a bar has been set up, and Abby thrusts a glass of wine into my hand. Calandra is drinking water but doesn’t seem unhappy about it.

  “First order of business,” Abby says. She points at me. “You, my bridesmaid. Is that okay with you?”

  I smile with genuine pleasure. “I’d love to. Thank you.”

  “Good. I wanted to ask you before, but I wasn’t sure you’d be interested. But now that you’re with Ben … you’re family. You can’t say no.” Abby beams at me and sips her wine.