Keeping Up Appearances (A Gass County Novel Book 4)

by Isabell Lawless

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  He opened a door to where the bathroom was. “I know you have a shower in here and I intend to use it to clean you up. But that means, first we need to get dirty.”

  He felt deliciously warm and pulled her closer. His hands roamed her back and reached down to grab her ass. She moaned and sighed into his mouth as he captured it with his.

  “So, moaning?” he asked after she’d made noised she couldn’t keep inside. “Seems more accurate for women than howling,” he managed as one of the dogs staying overnight gave a few howls in its sleep.

  “You get that a lot, women moaning?” she asked, a sudden anger fizzing inside of her.

  A wide smile spread on his face. Too cocky for her taste, and suddenly she felt like stabbing every woman that had ever been under his hand . . . or his body. Vaporize them all.

  “Never mind, don’t tell me the answer to that.”

  He pulled her closer and nuzzled his nose in her hair. “You’re loud.”

  She smacked him on the arm then.

  “It happens, the moaning I mean,” Val began, swallowing down the embarrassment of having ever made the sounds. They simply happened and she didn’t control them or even acknowledge any sounds when they came out of her mouth.

  “Anyway, moaning when having sex I get.” He pulled her even closer, her body aligned with his in all the best places. “Panting, loudly? Definitely.”

  Valerie locked her knees so they wouldn’t wobble. She put a hand on his chest because he had gone deep inside her circle of personal space. “I know your sounds,” he repeated, whispering close to her ear. “When will I hear them again?”

  She was already hot and bothered and a shiver of anticipation mixed with anxiety racked her as Bryce closed the bathroom door behind them.

  “We may be opposites Valerie but when we fuck it’s not like the stars align in the sky, it’s like a nuclear fusion. The amount of energy I need to release when I lay my first finger tip on your skin could easily blow the entire universe into nothing but dust particles. Yet, I’m willing to risk all that to be with you should it be for only one more time.”

  The bathroom felt toasty and warm, which was a good thing, because she had just asked him to take off his shirt. Close quarters, a man taking off his shirt, tousling his hair, and warm steam from the shower head were things made in stories. And holy shit, this story was going to be hers to tell.

  She wrapped her arms around Bryce’s neck and let them slide down his broad chest, her fingers teasing his nipples and perking against her touch. Her warm mouth touched one nipple and the lazy play of her tongue on his skin made him groan and close his eyes. Her hands continued down until her fingers teased just above his pant lining, jeans that felt tighter and tighter with every caress of her hands. He watched her head descend and when on her knees she pulled his pants down to his ankles, and with it came his blue boxer shorts.

  She slid her hand over him, pressing hard against his length, stroking with her palm. That gave her a moan in reply.

  “Fuck,” he said, and covered her hand with his showing her to go faster, grab him harder. Again and again she stroked him like she couldn’t get enough of his reaction to her hand. Hands, to be correct, this job was a two-hand deal.

  His cock jutted happily in the air, even more urgently as he watched her mouth get closer, opening to take him in. And when her lips locked around his cock, and she circled his length with her tongue she watched him grab the nearest handrailing on the wall before his knees gave in.

  An extensive amount of time later, Valerie waltzed out from the exam room number one looking a lot tousled and a whole lot of wet, in all the right places. She halted slightly in her step and smiled at the sight of Brody waiting by the front desk with a brown leash around his wrist, now chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek; like he always seemed to do when he had something to say but decided not to.

  “Dry up and for all that is holy don’t tell me what just happened in there,” he nodded to the room she’d exited and then looked out the window. She followed his gaze outside to watch Bryce’s truck pull out of the parking lot.

  She smiled at the event and shrugged her shoulders.

  “I was going to ask about some police dog training but I think I’ll save it for some other time,” Brody managed before he, as well, left the building and drove out of the parking lot.

  A text came in on her phone and she sighed at the possibility of it being her mother again but was happily surprised.

  “I need another shower. At home. Still dirty. Need your help – Bryce.”

  ~ Chapter Twenty-One ~

  Valerie woke up to an empty bed, larger than her own. She was definitely not in her own bedroom. She dared a peek around the room and remembered. What the hell time was it? Why was she alone? And why hadn’t she gone to her own house across the street? She sat up and rubbed her eyes, ran her fingers through her hair and decided no matter where her hotness of neighbor was at the moment this was the time to escape this bedroom and head home. In shame. She grabbed her purse hanging from a wooden chair against Bryce’s bedroom wall, pulled up and buttoned her jeans, then threw her thick sweater around her shoulders. The faster she could hightail out of here the better.

  She made her way downstairs and stopped short when she saw him in the kitchen: jeans, perfectly cupping his most amazing behind, a blue faded Nirvana t-shirt stretching across his wide shoulders and before she had time to ogle much longer he turned with a smile and a plate stacked high with pancakes in one hand, the other pointed to the kitchen table. It was hard to escape a plate full of carbs after an evening of alcohol and Bryce.

  She sat down across from him at the small table, his long legs bumping into her knees underneath and damn him for looking sexy as hell with ruffled morning hair and an unshaven face. Gosh, the memory of his face last night, the beard teasing everything that was sensitive on her body. The memory made her blush and caused the host across the table to smile even wider. The cookies on the table tasted marvelous: as light as air, crisp to the point of shattering, the creamy filling a smooth dense vanilla with just a hint of almond and lemon.

  “You bake, too?”

  He smiled behind his cup of coffee. “I do.”

  She snorted. “Damn it,” she mumbled and cut down deep through the pancakes stacked five high, dripping with warm Boysenberry syrup.

  “I’ll add that to the compliments you said last night. What were they again,” he pretended to be deep in thought, scrunching his forehead in the process. “God, holy fuck, and just fuck me now, were all phrases I from now on will think of as the best of flattering remarks.”

  She coughed slightly and dabbed the paper napkin at the side of her mouth. Hiding behind it wouldn’t help, it was too small.

  “Don’t stop your foul language, Val. Your vernacular when horny is of the best kind.”

  She stood at the comment, face burning, and pushed her chair away from the table to leave. Before she’d made the first step away he’d done the same and hoisted her up onto the kitchen table.

  “Bryce, this table won’t hold me!”

  “It will hold plenty.”

  “You are not making it any better by serving a million carbs for breakfast. That might taste great but do me no good in the end. Probably have to do something to get the calories off.”

  He pushed her legs apart and stepped between her thighs, holding his hands on the table, framing her. “Do me. Get me off.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” he growled in a sexy morning voice she wished she would hear more often and sat himself down on his knees between her legs. “You can think about it while I do you off.”

  Valerie was about to answer something intelligent but forgot it the moment he ran his lips along the inside of her thighs, scratching her skin with the rough stubble on his face and when he pulled her panties aside and placed his mouth on her she stopped breathing. She couldn’t remembered anyth
ing when his tongue pushed inside her, just to be replaced by a finger, then two, and she mouthed everyone of those words from last night and fell back onto the table and her plate filled with boysenberry drizzled pancakes.

  ***

  All houses downtown were built decades ago, some even in the last century. New buildings now mixed with red brick facades and in one of those Bryce pulled her inside and through an empty galley kitchen they entered a small office. In this part of the building things were a little shabbier and calm. This high above the ground one could see the roofs of some one story houses tucked in between taller two or three story Victorian’s fighting to stay alive against the rejuvenating area. Tree limbs dotted in brown autumn leaves spread out across the street and up to the office window, seemingly knocking on the glass attempting small talk and conversation. The old fire station felt surrounded by history.

  “Are these the old offices? Valerie followed him into the small room where two desks stacked with paper, files, and two computers held up space.

  “Aha,” he mumbled and bent to print something off of the computer. It was unavoidable; her looking at his behind like that, him leaning over was a fatal view for anyone with female hormones. Damn. He grabbed the paper, stapled it, signed it, and filed it in one of the binders on the shelf above.

  “Just time cards,” he said and moved closer to her. One large hand slid down her spine, pulled her closer then fell lower and grabbed her ass, possessively.

  “I’m wearing scrubs,” she managed in a low voice.

  “I see,” he answered. “I’m in uniform. Two adults who’s working. Strange,” he chuckled low and let his other hand follow his first. Holding her to him he let her feel what she was doing to him.

  “You all right?” His eyes looked dark and wide. A smile playing on his lips.

  “The door is open,” Val eyed the door behind Bryce’s back.

  “Noted,” he managed and bent down and there was no denial. His lips wanted hers and he took them. His tongue slid over her teeth, sucked her bottom lip into his, and let his hands roam up and under her shirt.

  “I love your boobs,” he mumbled into her neck as he kissed his way down finding her collar bone wish he traced with his tongue.

  “We just did this not too long ago. We’re becoming animals, Bryce,” Valerie whispered into the air.

  “I know, my little fuck-bunny.”

  Suddenly the sound of large garage doors opening cut the moment short.

  “On that note,” Bryce pulled away, “time to stop this before I have to pull your pants down and take you across this desk and probably let the entire crew coming in know how much you like it.”

  Valerie’s face turned beet red and she fidgeted with her clothes making sure everything looked in order. “Um, I need to go back to work and finish up . . . something.”

  Bryce leaned in and placed a last kiss on her mouth before pulling back, talking for her ears only. “I need to go home and finish something up,” he grabbed her hand and placed it on the erection pushing hard against the fabric of his uniform pants.

  Valerie gasped and left the room, jogged down the stairs, and exited the station as quickly as she’d gotten there. She hadn’t been seen and she needed to cool down. Maybe have some cold water, a strong drink, or maybe just follow Bryce’s advice and do something about the burn between her legs.

  ~ Chapter Twenty-Two ~

  “Mom,” Valerie swallowed and felt the sensation of panic creep like a vine from the bottom of her feet, up along her back, and creating a drop of sweat down her back. Dinner with her parents and Ford was not as easily done as she’d hoped.

  She wasn’t sure when she’d implanted in anyone’s mind that she and Ford were giving their old relationship another round. She was not in for it at all but apparently both her mom and Ford were all for the idea.

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.” Valerie stood at the table, framed by surprised looks from the three guests around her dining room table. Her parents and Ford cut the awkward moment short and went back to talking about Ford’s last victory on the race track. Ford placed his hand on top of Valerie’s, squeezing it hard to make her sit back down in her seat again. Of course the only one listening one bit of what she said was JC, the dog she’d taken in for surgery while its owners were on vacation but who couldn’t stay at the clinic because of his large size. The dog had just found her dad’s reeking shoes under the table and went to town inhaling their musty scent.

  She clasped her hands over her mouth but couldn’t stop what was about to come. “He does nothing for me,” she squealed. The guests fell silent. Crickets could have played a one-man-orchestra and been the loudest in the room.

  A voice next to her coughed. Ford took a drink and placed the napkin on the table. Her mother interrupted his coming exit from the dining room.

  “Valerie,” she yelped. “I’m not sure what happened to you while you were gone, sweetheart, but that is no way to talk to a man who has cared for you, both emotionally and financially, and is here today to ask you in the most sensible manner to have you back in his life. How on earth can you see this as a bad idea? Tell me, I am curious to hear, because this is as good as it gets, Valerie. Tell her Gary, tell her.”

  Her mother nudged Valerie’s father sitting at her side whom in stutter managed to begin a sentence to please her mother.

  “Thank you, Gale.” Ford rose from his seat at the end of the table and pushed out his chair, still fidgeting with his tongue inside his mouth, possibly trying to get a piece of Gale’s mother’s tangy meat unstuck from his polished teeth.

  “Gary, do something!” Valerie’s mother stood to block Ford’s exit from the house dining room, placing her hands on his arms.

  Ford stopped halfway to the door before he turned. “If I’m not doing anything for you, Val, who can?”

  Val’s annoyance bubbled like a mixture of baking soda and vinegar and there was nothing she hated more than when his arrogant mind came down his brain and out his mouth: not now and not when she’d been his side-kick during all his highlight times winning racing and posing for pictures.

  “Full of yourself as always, aren’t you?” Val bit out and the moment she’s said it turned to face her parents, making sure the audience of three heard her voice and took a deep breath.

  “I make my own money so I don’t need yours, Ford,” she began. “I run my own business and I’m quite successful, you didn’t see that coming did you. Any of you!” she raised her voice and pointed her finger to all three.

  “I’ve had enough of sweet nothingness from you, Ford, and you,” she turned to her parents, “I’ll never be a church practitioner or marrying any of the ushers. And to be completely honest . . . I had an affair while abroad and as it happens that man is living in this town. Didn’t see those odds, did you now?”

  Ford threw his sports jacket over his shoulder; slightly ruffling his elegant blonde strands and asked. “Who is it?”

  Valerie hadn’t thought of that, what if Ford would do something really despicable to Bryce?

  “None of your business,” she answered too quickly and heard her mother inquire the same. “You know what, it doesn’t matter who it is,” she managed just as her side door opened and Bryce stepped inside with a big pile of chopped wood for the fireplace. He was dressed in jeans fitting him utterly perfect, cupping his bottom as he bent to set down the wood in the living room. He pushed a hand through his dark hair as it had fallen across his forehead as he bent, and rolled up a sleeve on his arm which happened to show his forearm tattoo.

  “Didn’t mean to barge in on this—" he began when he stood and looked around the room. “Whatever this is. Call me later, Val, will you.”

  He nodded his head as he exited the house but stopped as Ford spoke.

  “Him? You like him?” Ford asked exasperated. “He couldn’t even pay for the shoes I’m wearing.”

  “I don’t need shoes to let a women know how great I am.” The cold air from the ope
n door brushed passed the table and Val’s breath caught in shock.

  “Val,” Bryce said in a low, soft voice. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to say that you like me,” he began. “Too long. I’m just glad you figured it out.” He took a few steps across the wooden floor and embraced her and she noticed she was still stiff of surprise from her confession. Her arms hung to her sides like those of a limp puppet and somehow she was glad he hugged her, pulled her closer to his chest. He felt warm, strong, and carried a scent of chopped lumber and fresh outdoors. She could have stayed there longer, his embrace was the right place, shouldn’t Ford have thrown his jacket on the floor.

  “Ain’t this just great you son-of-a-bitch! You don’t deserve her,” Ford bit out and pointed an ill willed finger at Bryce holding Val tight to his chest.

  “Now, now,” Gary said, leaving a trail of surprised faces around the room as the man rarely found enough space in a family where he was outnumbered by women. “Not to say that you’re a not stellar man, Ford, and that you for sure have provided graciously for our daughter for the period you were together, but there is no reason acceptable for your current behavior. I will not allow it.”

  “Gary—“

  Gary held up his hand to his wife, immediately stopping all further conversation.

  “And you, young man,” he turned to face Bryce. “I’m neither blind nor stupid. It hasn’t come to me as a surprise that Valerie like you very much. From the way her eyes wander around town looking for you when I’ve met up with her. Perfecting her hair, fiddling with her jewelry in nervous anticipation should that someone appear around the next block, or see if you are having lunch at a restaurant we might walk by. I know love when I see it, and from being married for many years I would like to say this is a good start.”

  Val took a shallow breath against Bryce’s shirt and realized her hands had moved from hanging by her sides to fisting into the lapels of the shirt.

  “What is your intent here, son. Because if this is nothing more from your side than a quick roll in the hay—“