Blue Collar Bad Boys Box Set 2

by Brill Harper

  I shoot him a look, but Mark just chuckles, his stomach jiggling. “Carter told me you wanted to take Alan out with a punch the other day. That’s a ringing endorsement as far as I’m concerned. My daughter could do worse.”

  “I’d still like one shot at his nose.”

  “I can’t condone violence or breaking the law. But if you happen to find yourself in need of a lawyer...”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  My daughter could do worse. I let that sink in the rest of the way to the community center.

  At the party, I get swept up in helping Mrs. Jones and Mike the librarian for hours, but every sight I catch of Emily steals my breath. She hasn’t changed any on the outside—she’s wearing a heavy, dark, nearly shapeless skirt that comes past her knees, and her cardigan covers a blouse that buttons all the way up her neck—but she shines the way the moon glints off snow. She could probably wear a nun’s habit and I’d think she glowed. This is insane.

  Mrs. Jones finds me. It is time to fold the tables and put the chairs away. I like that she seeks me out to help. I don’t mind hard work.

  “Charlie, thank you so much for helping tonight. I wish I felt worse about using my houseguest as the hired help.”

  “I like feeling useful, ma’am.”

  “I hope you also feel included. You fit in to the community so well tonight.”

  I add another chair to the stack. It’s starting to feel like Mr. and Mrs. Jones are up to something. “Mrs. Jones, you know I can’t—Mrs. Jones?” She’s turned an ashen shade and her eyes are glassy. “Are you okay?”

  I think she is going to answer, but instead her eyes close and she starts to fall. I rush to her side, catching her mid-swoon and lowering to the floor with her. “I need help over here!”

  Tagged: Chapter Twelve

  Emily

  I PACE THE TOO SMALL waiting room of the ER. There are too many people in the small space. Too many voices. Too many questions. Unanswered ones.

  And Charlie. Walking toward me. Game face on. In control. He has my coat in his hands. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk,” he says, offering his hand.

  “I can’t. What if they come out to tell us something, and I’m not here?”

  “Your family will find you. They have this thing now where people can send messages to handheld devices. It’s pretty cool, actually. I think I saw one in your purse. You can bring it with us.”

  I sigh.

  Charlie steps into my space and speaks low in my ear. “I’ve been watching you for a week now. I know the signs, and you need some space and fresh air. And probably a snack.”

  We are close. Sharing the same air. But I don’t move away. He radiates strength, and I want to bask in it like a sun worshipper on a beach. “What signs? What are you talking about?”

  “You get a look in your eye when you’ve had too much people time.” When I scoff, he squeezes my hand. “Baby, let me help you.”

  Well, if he is going to call me baby, I’ll never be able to resist him. It doesn’t mean anything. It is just a nickname. Like mistletoe. But boy, do I like it.

  He slips my coat onto my shoulders and my hand into his.

  The night air is crisp and snow is falling. Some of the tension in my muscles lessens as soon as we get outside. He was right. I needed to get out of there. But only for a few minutes.

  “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.” I stop, hit full force with all the thoughts that have been racing through my head since Mom collapsed at the end of the party. “What if my mom is really sick? What if this is her last Christmas? God. She can’t be sick.”

  “Hey, hey, hey.” He pulls me into his arms, his hands cupping my head protectively. “She’s probably just got some kind of flu. Or she forgot to eat today. She’s been feeling under the weather all week, right? I bet she just overdid it tonight trying to make the party special for the kids.”

  I cling to the lapels of his coat, anchored by him. “Thank you for catching her when she fainted.”

  “Well, she’s not the first woman to swoon at my feet. I told you I was kind of a big deal.”

  I laugh. I actually laugh. Which only reminds me of how serious this night is. “Thanks for staying with us here tonight. I’m sure you’re tired, too.”

  “I don’t have anywhere else I want to be right now.”

  He lets go of my neck so I can look up. Our eyes meet and his drift to my mouth. Is he going to kiss me? Right now? Outside?

  “Your lips are turning blue.”

  Oh. Guess not.

  “We should go inside.”

  I nod. “In just a minute, though, okay? This is nice. Being out here. With you.”

  He takes out the mittens that are flopping out of my pocket and slips them onto my hands. “This is the part where I get to say I told you so.”

  He takes such care, smoothing the material, making sure they are tucked under my coat cuffs. He probably doesn’t even know how well he takes care of people. Where had he learned that in a childhood of not being held by anyone who loved him? “Are my lips still turning blue?”

  “A little bit.”

  “Have any ideas how to warm them up?”

  The dimple pops out, making a rare showing. “I just might, actually.”

  “Emily!” Carter’s voice stops me mid-swoon. I turn to the doors where he is standing. “Dad’s come out. He has news.”

  I slip on a bit of slush coating the sidewalk in my haste to get back inside, but Charlie catches me by the elbow and keeps me upright. I’ll need to remember to thank him. Later. After I know.

  God, what if it is really bad? My mom is the center of all our lives. The idea of losing her...

  “Stop expecting the worst,” Charlie says as the doors slide open.

  How did he even know what I was thinking?

  Then I see my father surrounded by my family.

  “Dad.” I run to his open arms. He’s still wearing the Santa pants and suspenders, so out of place under the fluorescent light that blinks on and off a little. “Is she okay?”

  “I’m going to tell everyone at once, okay, sweetheart?”

  I nod and fold myself into the ring of family gathered around him. Charlie’s hand finds my shoulder, and I cover it with my own, grateful for his strength right now when mine feels in short supply. I try reading my father’s face. All I see is tired.

  “Sorry for the wait everyone,” my dad begins. “She’s fine. She’s going to be okay. We just needed a little time to process things before we could tell everyone.”

  Carter finds my free hand and squeezes. It isn’t lost on me how much I need the people in this room. How at this moment, I know exactly where I fit. How I’m scared, but not alone. Where their energy often depletes mine, in this moment, my brothers and sister and grandparents and Charlie are the ones keeping me upright.

  “Tell us what, Dad?”

  Cancer. It has to be cancer. My mom has been feeling off for days. Tired. Nauseous.

  He scrubs a hand over his face. “Your mom...well, there’s no easy way to say this.”

  My heart pitches down a cavern of sorrow.

  “Your mom is pregnant. We’re having a baby. Maybe two.”

  Charlie

  I CATCH MY SECOND SWOONING woman of the day when Emily’s legs collapse from under her as Carter breaks the awkwardly silent circle first to hug their dad.

  “I gotcha, mistletoe.”

  Wow. Another baby. Maybe two. That means Amy’s baby will be older than his aunt or uncle.

  Emily straightens in my arms. “I’m okay now, thanks.”

  But she doesn’t look so good. My pulse speeds up. Everything forgotten but Emily. I pull her back a couple feet from the crowd. “Your color is not great. Are you sure you’re not going to faint? Maybe you should sit down. I can get a nurse or a doctor to check you out.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m just...a baby? I don’t even know how to react. I’m honestly just shocked.”

  “It’s not good ne
ws?”

  “No, no, it is. It’s not what I was expecting, but it is great. Greater than great. But, well, I’m sure there are complications to think of. She’s fifty. But I’m happy. And I’m really happy she’s not sick.” She hiccups a breath. “And I’m babbling. I feel like I just drank an entire pot of coffee.”

  I frame her face in my hands, cupping her cheeks gently. Searching for what? How would I know if she is okay? I’m not a doctor.

  Her eyes are clear and shining with unshed tears. Her face is regaining its color. And then she gives me a lopsided smile. Everything inside me unravels while I look into her eyes. I meant to comfort her. To help her deal with the shock and the fear, but my emotions are unspooling wildly. I’ve lost all slack on the line to my heart.

  She doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t close her eyes as I brush my lips softly over hers in a hospital waiting room filled with her family. I scrape my teeth lightly over her bottom lip, and she closes her eyes and lets out a little purr of pleasure. I want to tip her head back, deepen this kiss. But no, not here. Not now. I let her go.

  Dazed, she joins the rest of the mob around her dad. Mrs. Jones will be staying in the hospital overnight. No, they hadn’t done an ultrasound to see if there were two in there, but it was a real possibility given that she’d given birth to two sets of twins and the fetal Doppler seemed to detect a second heartbeat. No, they hadn’t been planning or trying for another, but yes, once the shock wore off they were both happy. Nervous but happy.

  And he wants them all to go home. He’ll bring their mom home tomorrow after the ultrasound, but she gave strict orders that they were not to hang out in the hospital all night. She is fine. This is just a precaution.

  The siblings scatter after Mr. Jones returns to his wife. Since their mother won’t know, Amy, Mal, and Emily all want to go to their own homes for the night and meet back at the parents’ in the morning. Without a single excuse that makes sense, Carter gets me to take Emily home. Even though she has her own car. Even though someone will have to take her car to her in the morning. It is a set-up. When Emily doesn’t fight it, I decide not to either.

  “Walk me up?” she asks when I pull up in front of her building.

  And this is it, isn’t it? The inevitable I’ve been trying to put off?

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you from here to your apartment.”

  My heart thuds loudly in my ears as I follow her in. She unbuttons her coat and pulls the chain on an old-fashioned lamp. The warm glow from its leaded-glass pattern catches all the different shades of her hair.

  ...inevitable.

  The word echoes in my head, mocking me. Encouraging me.

  She throws her coat onto a chair and stretches her ear to her shoulder, elongating that neck I’d like to spend hours nibbling and sucking.

  ...inevitable.

  She rolls her aching shoulders back, lifting her pert breasts in their prim blouse and cardigan.

  ...inevitable.

  Who am I to fight it? If she’ll have me, I am hers. At least for tonight.

  But only for tonight.

  The weight lifts off me. I’ve probably already fallen in love with her. There is no way around that. But she will be more careful with her heart. I’ll leave town before she gives it to me. We’ll have this night. Then she can move on from the shadow she’s been hiding in. Find the guy that is right for her. Smart like her. The guy who knows how to stay.

  “You can stay,” she nearly echoes my thoughts. “If you want.” She fidgets with her sleeves, pulling them down like she prefers them, so that only her fingertips poke out.

  “I do.”

  I shrug off my own coat, watching her watching me. She doesn’t seem frightened, but I want her to be sure. Sure she is ready. Sure she understands what I can and can’t give her. I move slowly, dropping my jacket on the same chair she put hers.

  She reaches for me first. An innocent caress from my temple to my cheek that damns me forever to a longing I know time will not erase. She’ll move on, but I have a feeling I never will.

  She unbuttons her cardigan with trembling fingers, eyeing me warily. As if daring me to react.

  The blouse comes next. Slowly, God so slowly, she undoes the buttons. The scant inch of skin exposed by the two pieces makes me harder than any lacy lingerie or tight mini-skirt ever could. She presses her lips together, tension tightening her features, going someplace else mentally. As she is about to separate the blouse from her body, I tell her to stop.

  I want all her attention to stay right here. In this room.

  “Just wait,” I say as I cross behind her and undo her hair from the elastic band that holds her braid. Fingering through the golden waves, I feel the relaxed sigh of her muscles as she eases closer to me. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her all the way to my chest and resting my chin on her shoulder. Holding her, just holding her. I commit the moment to memory. The way she melts into me. The fresh linen smell of her. Even the way I hurt with wanting her so much.

  I nuzzle her neck, remembering how much she liked it last night when I took her earlobe in my mouth. When I repeat the move, she squirms against me, shuddering with pleasure. Feeding my own.

  It is my hands that remove her blouse as she comes alive under my caresses with little quivers. All the things she’s been hiding so deeply inside her rising to the surface. For me. Pushing her hair over her shoulder, I nip and lick a trail up and down her spine, pausing briefly to unfasten the bra that keeps getting in my way. She stiffens for a second, but relaxes again by the time it hits the floor. I try to stop thinking of her tits the way I saw them on the screen last night. Try and fail. I really want to see them again now, but worry my reaction might damage the ground we’ve gained.

  It dawns on me just how much responsibility I have tonight. All the ways I can screw it up. A hot ball of panic rises in my throat, but I swallow it down, fire and all. What she needs is a man. A confident lover to erase the touch of her last. I will be that man or I will die trying.

  I spin her around and latch on to one tit using my whole mouth, my tongue, my teeth as I walk us to the wall so she has some support. She is going to need it. I intend to turn every muscle she has to jelly.

  She arches and cries out, first maybe in shock, but then in a desperate keening sound I’ll hear long after this night is gone. Her fingers grasp my shirt like a lifeline as I drive her on and on with my mouth. Her breasts are perfect. Better in person. And that they’ve been in protective custody for so long is a crime. She is sensitive, more so on the left, so I spend a lot of time there.

  Sucking. Biting. Sucking some more.

  Desire claws at me inside like a feral beast. I am sure we are both going to come just from me sucking on her breast.

  I pick up her hands and pin them against the wall on either side of her head. “I just want to look at you.” For both of us, she needs to be okay with that.

  She nods and I touch her with my gaze. The milk-pale skin, red where I scraped with my teeth. The rose-tipped nipples, proudly hardened with desire. The freckles that dot her chest. I don’t know much about art, but I know it when I see it.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  “Charlie...” She pauses. “I want to feel you. Your skin.”

  Done. I need it too. To have nothing separate us. Flesh to flesh.

  I take my hands off her long enough to reach back and pull my flannel and undershirt over my head.

  She wraps her arms around me, holding me tightly to her. Her heart drumming against mine.

  I am lost to her now.

  My hands skim the column of her waist, and my mouth takes hers hotly. She begins to move instinctively against me, her tits crushed between us. Nothing in this life has prepared me for this. For the feelings coursing through me like blood. I want to protect her, and at the same time, devour her. There is nothing safe about love. Not for me. Not for h
er. I know that now.

  Her skirt and panties get pushed down, and I follow them, dotting her body with kisses as I go. I murmur words of love against her stomach, her hip, the top of her thigh. She tenses when I kiss her in the soft curls of her pussy, but goes lax as I draw all her passion to her clit.

  “You taste so fucking good,” I say into her cunt, and her fingers go to my head.

  She’s wet and getting wetter. And I just keep lapping her up. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here, right here. In her perfect folds. Her juices coating my tongue.

  I pull one of her legs over my shoulder so she needs to rely on me for balance. “Ride my face, Emily.”

  She stills. Paused like I just stopped a movie.

  “Baby, you’re the sweetest thing I ever tasted. I want that honey all over my face.”

  Her legs are trembling.

  “Am I the first man to eat your pussy?”

  She nods, that pretty pink stealing over her face, neck, and chest.

  “I like that. Love it. Knowing I’m the first one to taste you here. I’m going to ruin this pussy for all other men. The things my tongue is going to do to you...you’ll be begging me to fuck you with it before long. And I will. I don’t care if you feel embarrassed right now. I don’t care if you used to think this was dirty or wrong. All that matters to me is getting every last drop of your cream now. You understand.”

  She moans. “Yes.”

  “Then fucking ride my face, Emily. Give me what’s mine.”

  I dive back in, swiping her folds with my tongue. Nuzzling my nose against her clit. She moans again and starts grinding back. I’m in fucking heaven.

  My balls are full and aching. I want to come inside her. Inside her mouth. Inside her pussy. Inside her ass. I want it all. I want to see my seed dripping out of her. I’m like some kind of animal.

  My tongue starts fucking her like it’s my dick, and she tightens around it. I want to tell her to come, but I’m not moving my face away from this pussy.

  She doesn’t take long to climax, and I watch her face as the pleasure overtakes her. Her shock. Her smile. Her surprise when it starts rising again when I get my finger in her and find her G-spot.