Lexi Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 25)

by Faleena Hopkins

  P utting my Bronco in park outside of Structure Four — after Lexi texted me earlier which building was hers — I jump out and relax, leaning against my spotless pride and joy in black pants and a black button-up shirt. Good boots on of the same shade.

  Gave my baby a slow cleaning after work was over. I like the set up at the shop — no better place in Atlanta to wash a vehicle.

  I didn’t do it to impress Lexi. Fact is, the truck was pretty clean already.

  I needed to clear my head, and taking care of this old girl always does the trick.

  It’s a good eight minutes of waiting before I see the beauty through glass, adjusting her hair with gaze cast down in thought as she approaches the exit-door.

  My chest tightens.

  Frown deep.

  Lexi’s in a red dress, a v-neck that cuts in around her middle with a belt, then flows to just below her knees, with short sleeves that look soft not tight. Her heels match it exactly, and as soon as she steps outside under a powerful streetlamp designed for safety, I get a look at shiny fingernails and toenails the same cherry-red.

  Lipstick, too.

  That’s the kicker.

  She’s got no other makeup on that I can see. Those lips are holding their own, framed by ginger hair and bright green eyes.

  “Damn.” I push off the truck, frowning because my stomach just tightened.

  Lexi pauses with a flicker crossing her smile like she didn’t expect me to be so obvious in my appreciation. Her “Thank you,” is quiet and unusually modest. “You look great, too.”

  Walking around to her side of my Bronco, I glance to its dark-blood shine and lock eyes with her. “You want to give a man a coronary?”

  A happy laugh bubbles out of her, the self-conscious tension dissolved from her shoulders. Lexi reaches up to caress hair back from my forehead, biting her bottom lip before she smiles, “Hi Gage.”

  Suddenly I forget what we’re even doing. Why I’m here. The reservation I made.

  I gather her up and kiss her, leaning my back against my truck, Lexi’s soft body crushed against me. She’s as responsive as ever, just as I need her to be. Lips mine all mine.

  Someone whistles at us, so close by that we break free to see where they are. A couple of guys in khakis, polo shirts, and flip flops, give us two thumbs up. “Lucky!” one shouts, and they laugh, heading for the opposite parking garage.

  Focusing back on my beautiful date, my eyebrows hike, “Um…” and I chuckle before adding, “Your uh, lipstick.”

  “Me? You should see your mouth!”

  “Really? Hang on, I think I’ve got some paper towels in here.”

  “I might have a tissue in my bag,” Lexi smiles, digging around as I open the door and find an empty glove compartment.

  “Forgot I cleaned this out.”

  She wets her thumb by sucking on it, “Here,” starting to come at me.

  I block her, grabbing her hand. “What’re you, my mom?” and tickling Lexi’s waist with my free hand.

  She screams, tries to get away, “Stop it!”

  I let her go, shutting the passenger door as my chin jerks up. “I need to use the bathroom anyway.”

  Cherry eyebrows fly toward the third floor balcony above us. “Oh…okay.”

  I watch her heels click away until shiny fingernails wink in the lamplight as she taps a password into the building’s security pad, two large potted plants on either side of her gorgeous legs.

  Glancing to my truck I ask, “Do they ticket here?”

  Lexi shrugs, “I think it’ll be alright for a few minutes.”

  “Cool.”

  I follow her inside, and into the elevator, hypnotized by her dress’s sway over calves I lay between just this morning. This is the first time I’ve seen them in heels, the toned curve a sight I won’t soon forget.

  It’s a quick ride, us standing apart with Lexi staring at the numbers lighting up one by one.

  A weird feeling settles in. “You okay?”

  She shrugs as we walk out. That’s all I get?

  I take her hand, “Hey.”

  Reluctant eyes meet mine. “I’m fine.”

  I step closer, volume low for the neighbors. “What the fuck is going on, Cherry?”

  The nickname relaxes her a little. “I uh…” She blinks away from me, adding a confused, “I don’t bring guys back here often.”

  “Place a pit?”

  A grin flashes, “No!” and disappears, “It’s not that. I mean, we’re not the clean squad, but we’re not slobs either.” She frowns and repeats, “It’s not that,” like she’s stalling.

  “What is it? Brad never came here?”

  She blanches, muttering, “Can we not talk about him?”

  I grunt, “Sure,” irritated I allowed myself to forget her feelings for that asshole. Won’t happen again. “Why don’t you go get a napkin and let’s get outta here. I’ve got a reservation waiting for us.”

  “Oh!” Lexi’s eyes widen with surprise. “You made reservations somewhere?”

  “What, d’ya think mechanics don’t know how to use the Internet? I could rewire the damn thing if I wanted to.”

  “Stop it, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Why so surprised then, Cherry?”

  “I don’t like your tone, Gage.”

  Fixing my gaze on a scuff-mark probably made from a bicycle’s tire as it was carried upstairs, I nod and say nothing more.

  She walks away from me, carpet taking the sting out.

  I follow her. “Hey.”

  Spinning around, Lexi’s fire is in full force. “What?!”

  With zero aggression I tell her, “Let’s cut it out.”

  She blinks narrowed greens, repeating with less fury, more confusion, “What?!”

  I kiss her, and she melts in my arms while I explain what I can’t find words to say. Whenever I’m pissed they leave me hanging. But I know how to communicate like this. Lexi does, too, and her hands dig into my biceps as she pushes me against the wall, not the other way around. Our kisses are a fucking mess of arguing it out until we finally come up for air.

  “We good now?”

  She gives this dazed and sexy, “Mmmhmm,” taking my hand to walk the two remaining steps to her apartment.

  But the door swings open before Lexi gets a chance to insert her key, and here stands the blonde sister I barely caught a glimpse of on Saturday.

  “Hi!” Samantha cries out, glancing between us. “I heard something weird out in the hall!”

  Lexi announces, “That was us,” as if it’s supposed to make sense, and Sam makes room for our entry into a bright living room with two cats lazily staring our way — one ashen-furred on the sofa surrounded by colorful throw pillows, the other one a ball of white fluff on a chair almost as fuzzy. “This is Gage. Gage, my sister Sam.”

  “Samantha,” she corrects, adding, “You have to earn the name Sam,” with a smile much sweeter than that of the ginger’s who gives me a run for my money.

  I smirk, “Will do,” and shake her hand. “How’d the audition go?”

  Her brown eyes warm at my manners, nose crinkling at the touchy subject. “I’m still waiting to hear but thank you for asking. I’m sorry,” she laughs, “Your mouth is hilarious!”

  Lexi waves, “Come on!” walking ahead to lead me into a hallway with four closed doors, swinging open the one first on the left. It’s hard not to check out framed photographs from their lives, but her laugh captures my attention and gives me a distraction.

  “Mirrors aren’t my thing today!” she mutters, digging out a glossy packet from her medicine cabinet.

  I get a look at my face as she closes it, and cock my right eyebrow. “Should get a job at the circus.” She wipes at my mouth with a moist cloth oozing lavender and I grab it, “Thanks Mom. I’ve got it.”

  She teases me, calling out to Samantha, “He has a fear of not knowing things and of being treated like a little boy.”

  I grumble, “No, I don�
�t,” wiping away until my skin’s raw enough that it doesn’t matter there’s no lipstick left. “Well shit.”

  Lexi sighs, and turns for the reflection, gently patting her face back to cleanliness. Digging out the red lipstick, she stares at it, and frowns, “This isn’t going to work,” opting for a clear gloss instead.

  I lean against the open door, and cross my arms as I watch her slide it around. “Look at the brains on Cherry.”

  Trying not to gratify me with a smile, and failing, Lexi murmurs through the process, “You’re ridiculous.”

  “First your sister says I’m hilarious. Now you say I’m ridiculous.”

  With a firm tightening of the cap, she corrects me, “Sammy said your face was hilarious. Not you. There’s a big difference, Crocodile.”

  “Give her a chance to get to know me and she’ll say both are pretty damn funny.”

  Lexi grins, spinning around, dress flying with her. “Funny looking!”

  “Come here.” I pull her to me and make that gloss a waste of her fucking time.

  In the distance we hear Samantha hurrying off to give us space. Lexi pulls back, eyelids heavy. “You ready to go?”

  “I’m ready for whatever you give me, Cherry.”

  As she searches my eyes, her smile comes slow.

  Uh oh.

  Chapter Sixteen

  LEXI

  O ur upscale dinner turned into wrapped up takeout from a restaurant that wasn’t made happy by our last-minute cancellation.

  But I was inspired.

  I’m ready for whatever you give me? That’s an open door I’ll walk through whenever given the key.

  Speaking of keys…

  I point to an old street sign overgrown with weeds, “Take a left right there,” warm Georgia wind blowing back my hair. My gaze travels to the sky’s glittering stars, attention drawn to its brightest ones. “Such an amazing night!”

  Slowing down to turn the wheel, Gage agrees, “We lucked out. Was supposed to rain.”

  “They never know, do they?” I wistfully smile, staring up at galaxies whose mysteries I’ll never fully understand. “Mother Nature laughs all she can, doesn’t she?”

  “Best way to live,” he quietly says while concentrating on a forgotten road skipped by renovation’s selection despite old rumors that this area would grow to be hip one day. Atlanta expanded several other directions instead, leaving these early twentieth-century buildings to decay until further observation.

  Lifting my head to look out the windshield again, I point to a large metal warehouse strong enough to withstand time. “That huge one on the right, Gage, park there.” With windows designed too high for easy breakage, the only damage done has been minimal, just some artless graffiti.

  Atlanta’s well known, beautiful murals are abundant elsewhere, done by street artists with incredible talent — their work preserved by the city’s officials as well as community.

  Whoever tagged this place knew nothing of art. But it was a long time ago, weathering even their paint.

  Gage puts the truck’s gear in park as he glances around silent weeds and cracked asphalt, eyes landing on a single door. “Why this one? What is this place?”

  I shuffle through my clutch bag for the key ring, selecting and holding up the only one I added tonight after he inspired me.

  Black eyebrows twitch. “Don’t tell me…”

  “Just another reason I made you wait with Sam in the living room while I gathered up some fun!”

  “How in the fuck do you have a key to this place?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  A grin flashes, but is quickly subdued by cool detachment — the man who must know everything, back. He’s not sure how he likes being purposefully kept in the dark about my treasure.

  So exciting!

  I wave the special key. “Are you going to open my door or aren’t you?”

  Playing along, he volleys back, “Which one?”

  “If you open my car door, I’ll let you open that dirty old metal door, too.” Slicing the air with it I smirk, “Interested?”

  Gage jumps out, “Deal,” shaking his head with amusement since he was going to come get me anyway.

  I snatch our take-out bag, hand it to him, carefully lifting my backpack to keep for myself.

  “What’s in that?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  He grumbles a funny, “Grrrrr,” helping me down to slide into his arms for a quick kiss before he snatches the keychain.

  “Hey!”

  He strolls away. “You said I could.”

  Shutting the passenger door I call after him, “Giving it and taking it aren’t the same!”

  “You said you’d give it, so I took it.”

  “Rude!”

  Jamming it into a rusty lock, Gage inspects the metal, “You should’ve been more specific,” and turns the key. I make it to his side as the door creaks open, darkness our eerie welcoming. “Cool!”

  I jump up and down before following him inside, quickly unbuckling my backpack. “The second surprise.”

  Appreciation glints his crocodiles as I present a lantern. Pushing its small button, light chases shadows away.

  He takes it for a closer look. “That’s a powerful one!”

  “My cousin Ben gave it to us for outages.” I widen my eyes for comic emphasis, because I never feel helpless. “Because we’re three girls living alone.”

  Gage walks the two steps to lock up, twisting a dead bolt that fights back. He pockets my keys for later. “Sounds like he’s protective of you.”

  I roll my eyes, voice echoing, “I’ll say!”

  “That’s a good thing, Cherry,” he says in all seriousness. “Your family should look after you.”

  I blink at him, voice quieting, “I know.”

  He stares off for a moment like his mind traveled elsewhere. “Speaking of looking after you,” he announces, strolling by me to check out the place. “I’m gonna make sure we’re alone here.”

  “There are only two other doors beside this one. And one’s…like a garage. I don’t know how to describe it. The kind that rolls up.”

  “I gotcha,” he nods, “Come with me.”

  We explore the facility, pointing out to each other interesting things abandoned long ago — iron shelves with papers strewn about, none dated past 1959. We both love the twisting, ratty conveyer belt that’s off its hinges and metal file cabinets, desks, chairs and tables askew where once they probably lined the rooms in perfect symmetry.

  Gage notes, “Not as much dust as I expected,” after we’re sure that we’re alone.

  “Maybe because there’s so little traffic in the area to kick it up?”

  He jogs his chin to the windows while laying our takeout bag on an old metal desk. “Strong seals. Back then they made things to last.”

  Digging in my backpack I ask, “Want to use the hand towel I brought to wipe this down?”

  “What else you got in there?”

  “This.”

  Gage’s eyebrows lift at the sight of my portable stereo cylinder. “Music?”

  “Uh huh.”

  He kisses me. “You thought of everything.”

  I smile, not telling him I’ve wanted to do this for years but Brad wasn’t interested. He wasn’t the type of guy I could surprise, so I’d instead shared my idea about the warehouse. Brad shot it down. I didn’t argue. Where was the fun in convincing someone to have some?

  Recyclable containers of seafood pasta and crispy, fluffy garlic bread with biodegradable utensils get spread between us as we talk about what this building might have been used for. When we’ve exhausted people industries back then, Gage asks, “Are you gonna tell me how you got the key? Your family own this place?”

  Mischief bleeds into me. “Nope. We don’t own it.”

  “We’re trespassing?”

  “Uh huh!”

  Gage grins, “I signed up,” and crunches garlic bread.

  “You sure did.” I
’m chewing happily while the hits-playlist changes songs to one I absolutely adore. “My dad produced this one! I visited the studio on the day this song finally found its groove. It was so cool, Gage!” Spreading my arms dramatically I describe how it went down, gesturing throughout the story. “I walked in and the air was tense. Nobody talked. Dad didn’t say hi to me. He’s got these light eyes that are so sharp when he’s focusing and unhappy. You feel it in your gut. I love it when he gets like that! I silently lowered myself to the sofa behind his mixing board, careful to blend in. You cannot disturb their focus when it gets like that in there. You’ll get your head bitten off! I learned that the hard way. So there I am, a dragonfly on the wall, observing the signs of imminent meltdown, when all of a sudden Dad says, ‘How about this?’ and drags his levers over the chorus.” I freeze and Gage stops chewing as the song echoes well known verses throughout the forgotten building. “There! That harmony? It brought depth to a voice that sounded shallow until he did that.”

  Gage frowns, “That’s how most of the song is.”

  “Right! But it wasn’t until Dad did that. They flipped out. The whole room came to life — disaster averted!”

  “He welded his idea into the base structure?”

  I blink at Gage’s question, and realize he’s putting it in terms he can understand since music isn’t his thing. A smile spreads and I nod, “Exactly. He welded it.”

  We listen to the remainder of the song while eating, a new appreciation suspending our conversation.

  When the outro fades, Gage locks eyes with me. “Nice.”

  “What happened this week?”

  His expression darkens as he considers whether or not to tell me. It’s been on my mind, and I didn’t mean for it to slip out just then. But now I can’t take it back.

  It’s up to Gage.

  I just shared some of my life. Will he do the same?

  I don’t push him, but my patience softens me.

  Gives him an in.

  He chews.

  Takes another bite.

  Chews some more.

  Swallows.

  And finally says…

  “You really want to know?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  GAGE