I smiled back at him before I knew what I was doing. “Okay. Sounds like fun. How about a comedy? Or something with action and comedy, even better.”
“Not a chick flick? You surprise me.”
I shook my head. “I prefer to read my romance. Movies are too hokey and heavy-handed.”
Austin sat down in his recliner next to Blue and smiled at me. “Noted.”
“Unless it’s Princess Bride. That movie has everything—comedy, action, romance. It’s my favorite.”
“I’ll see what Cole has in his library, but I don’t remember seeing Princess Bride listed,” Austin replied as he picked up the remote and pressed a few buttons.
I stared at him for a few moments. His thin white t-shirt did nothing to hide the muscles and tattoos hiding beneath. And when he lifted his arm with the remote, the muscles in his arm flexed in an impressive display. I had a brief fantasy of climbing into that recliner with him and tracing all those muscles and tattoos with my fingers and tongue. And then pulling off his skin-tight jeans so we could—
“Rachel? Aren’t you gonna charge your phone?” Austin’s question tore me out of my dirty little fantasy.
Which is when I noticed that I was still staring at him.
I blinked furiously and looked away, my cheeks heating with my blush.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just a little tired I think,” I muttered as I crossed the room to plug in my phone. “I need to text my boss and check in at home. Go ahead and start the movie; I’ll catch up.”
And just like that, Austin’s mood changed. His expression grew dark, and he threw a frown at me before he turned back to the screen and punched at the remote—its clicks loud in the sudden silence of the room.
“Oookay,” I whispered to myself as I plugged in my phone and then tapped out a quick text to my boss.
Me: I80 closed before I could get down the mountain. Client letting me stay over.
Erin didn’t immediately text back, so I called home. My mom answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom. How’s he doing?”
“Fell asleep thirty minutes ago. Probably won’t hear a peep from him the rest of the night. How are you doing, honey?”
“I’m fine. I’m still at my last job. I’m sure you’ve heard they’ve closed the freeway. The client is really nice, and he has plenty of room, so I’ll have a warm bed tonight and should be on the road first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Maybe you should wait, let the roads thaw some, you know?” The worry in her voice was obvious.
“I won’t leave until it’s totally safe. I promise.”
“I know, honey. I just worry.”
“Me too. It’s hard being away from Wyatt. I don’t think I’ve spent a whole night away from him since he was born. It hurts.”
“Oh honey, he’s fine. I’m here, and he’s asleep. He probably won’t even miss you.”
The words were like an arrow to my heart. I’d somehow become that parent. The one my kid couldn’t count on to be there. The one who was always at work and never around. The one who missed everything.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I whispered huskily.
“Ah, honey, don’t. You know he loves you. And misses you. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s okay, Mom. He probably won’t even know I’m gone. Hopefully I can be back before he wakes up.” I don’t know if I was saying it to convince myself or her.
“So who’s your client? You’re in Tahoe, right? With all those huge ski cabins? You said there’s just one guy? Is he cute?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Is he single?”
I rolled my eyes and let out a husky laugh. Trust my mom to cut to the important info. At least she’d temporarily got my mind off Wyatt and my inadequacies. “Yeah, I’m not answering that, Mom. Listen, I gotta go. Give Wyatt a kiss from me, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Ah, is he right there? I got you, honey. Take care of yourself. Use a condom. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
I ended the call and shook my head. My mom was crazy. She firmly believed that all life’s ills could be solved with the love of the right man. Or the next man anyhow. I did not share her philosophy. One deadbeat ex was enough for me.
I looked down at my phone’s screen. Erin still hadn’t texted back. Given how dead my battery was, I’d need at least an hour to charge. Which I could do in my room, but I didn’t want to look like an ungrateful douche, especially when Austin was currently being so nice.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I surreptitiously swiped at my eyes, or so I thought. I could feel Austin looking at me, but I really didn’t want him to see me like this. So I took a few deep breaths and tried to suck up all my leaky emotions. When I felt a little more under control, I turned around and gave him a smile as I walked over to the empty recliner next to him. “What movie did you land on?”
Austin gave me a once over but said nothing about my little break down. “Cole doesn’t have Princess Bride. Looks like he’s only got recent releases, and I think a few that aren’t even on video yet. Here’s what we got to choose from…”
And that was how I ended up watching a still-in-theaters comedy in Cole Jackson’s chalet with Austin Burns.
5
Austin
It was a dick move, but I eavesdropped on Rachel’s phone call. Since I only heard her end of the conversation, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but it sounded like she had a kid who was sleeping over at her mom’s place. And something that her mom told her tore Rachel up, except she didn’t say one word about it to me. What I did notice was that there wasn’t a single mention of the guy who’d put that ring on her finger or the father of her kid.
What was the deal? Was she separated? Widowed? Married to an asshole who couldn’t be bothered to watch their fucking kid?
I’d love to give her something to take her mind—and mine—off our individual dramas, but I’d be damned if I’d poach on someone else’s territory. As long as she had that ring on her finger, I’d be keeping my fingers off her.
Instead I sat in silence and stewed about my fucking family drama. The movie played on in front of us, but I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t even notice the damn thing. I knew I had to come clean to my brothers—they’d need time to prepare for the upcoming D-day—but I was still having a hard time coming to terms with it myself. How could I expect them to wrap their heads around our father’s release?
Stupid, fucking parole board.
How anyone thought that fucker was “reformed” when he was obviously blowing smoke up their asses was beyond me. Dumb fucks. And in three months my sperm donor would be walking free and probably trying to wedge into our family and bumming money off his fucking kids. Son of a bitch. My hand tightened around my beer bottle as I remembered that night everything changed for me and my brothers. The look on my mom’s face. The sound of her muffled screams. Huddling with my brothers behind my locked bedroom door. Twenty-five years wasn’t long enough. A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough.
Fucking bastard.
My beer bottle exploded in my hand.
“Oh my god! Austin? Austin? Are you okay?”
I blinked a few times as my rage dissipated. Rachel stood in front of me, her hands covering her mouth as she stared at me with wide eyes. I shook the liquor and glass off my hand then reached up to scratch my head. A mixture of beer and blood ran down my arm and soaked the side of my formerly white t-shirt.
“Fuck!” I sat up with a wince as the sharp spear of pain finally pierced my clouded brain. I ripped my shirt off over my head then wrapped it around my bleeding hand. “Son of a bitch.”
“It’s okay. We can take care of this. You wouldn’t believe the number of scrapes and scratches I’ve patched up in the last year.” Rachel gently held my wrist, tugging on my arm to keep it aloft. “Let’s head over to a bathroom. I totally know where that is since I spent
the better part of the afternoon cleaning it. People usually keep their bandages in bathrooms, right?”
The combination of her touch and her endearing babble had me transfixed. I docilely followed her as she held my wrist and tugged me in the direction of a downstairs bathroom.
“Here. Hold it above your heart. That’s a thing, right? I think I read it somewhere,” Rachel muttered as she shoved my hand up over my head.
Given our size difference, the movement pulled her loose shirt taut over her breasts. It was a fantastic distraction from the throbbing pain in my hand. Rachel’s body was curved in all the right places. I could easily imagine myself spending hours nuzzling the two firm mounds, thrusting my dick between them, shooting my spunk all over her gorgeous face.
Son of bitch. Now I had a hard-on.
Rachel didn’t seem to notice as she turned around and pulled open every cupboard, continuing to mutter to herself. “I keep my bandages in the bathroom. Do other people put them somewhere else? Maybe the kitchen? Crap on a cracker, where are they?”
I chuckled as I leaned against the countertop. The room swam around me a bit. It must’ve been the booze because I wasn’t bleeding that much. Lord fucking knew that I’d had it a hell of a lot worse before. Like that one nosebleed dear ol’ dad gave me when I was seven. Or that one time in the shop when my wrench slipped and I fell on that freshly grinded metal. This right now was barely a nick in comparison, but no one would’ve known it by the way Rachel was freaking out.
“Found it,” Rachel crowed as she held a first aid kit aloft. Her eyes darted to my covered hand, and the little bit of color leached from her face. “Oh God, that’s bad.”
I dropped my hand and looked at the small spot of red darkening the shirt. “Shit, sweetheart. Please tell me that you’re not studying to be a nurse. Or a fucking poker player.”
“What? No. I’m not studying anything. Why are we talking about this? We need to stop the bleeding.”
“I think it’s already stopped. It’s just the spilled beer thinned the blood out and made it look worse.”
“Well, we need to clean it at least. You can’t be running around with glass sticking out of your hand. How will you build Cole Jackson another motorcycle like that?” Rachel grabbed my hand again and tugged me toward the sink.
But what she’d just said rolled around my head. I must’ve been drunker than I thought because it took me a minute to figure out why that was important. Then it hit me. “You know who I am?”
“What?” Rachel threw her long, brown hair over her shoulder and bent toward my hand over the sink.
I smirked. “You know who I am.”
“Are there any tweezers in the kit? I think I see a piece of glass in here.”
“You know I didn’t peg you as a gearhead. Or was it the layout in The Californian that caught your attention? I think I had a helluva lotta skin showing in that one. They had me hold an exhaust pipe in front of my junk.”
“What?” Rachel stood up and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Why are you talking about your junk? Don’t you care that you have glass sticking out of your hand?”
“This is nothing, babe. You wanna see the scar from where I landed on a scrap heap? It’s pretty badass.”
“I’m good. Thanks.” Rachel shook her head as she held a pair of tweezers over my hand.
I felt a little pinch, and I closed my eyes as the room swam again. “I have another good one on my chin from when my dad punched me. See? Right here. He was wearing this big fucking ring that ripped open my chin. I bled like a son of a bitch.”
Rachel swiped my hand with something that made it sting.
I hissed a breath but kept babbling. “It wasn’t even my fault he was pissed. I took the blame for something that my little brother, Nathan, did. I doubt he even remembers, but I have this little fucking line on my face that I see every time I look in the mirror. I don’t forget. I can’t forget.”
Rachel wrapped my hand in gauze and applied some medical tape. “That’s nice that Nathan had you to stand up for him. He’s pretty lucky to have a protective older brother looking out for him.”
I laughed darkly and swiped at the wetness hazing my vision. “I’d like to see you tell the fucker that. He thinks that I was put on this earth to boss him around and get in his face. Like I have nothing better to do than make sure he doesn’t fuck up.”
“You two sure do butt heads a lot.”
I blinked at her factual delivery. I didn’t know this woman from Eve a few hours ago. “How do you—”
“I, uh, I caught that Urban channel special of your shop—Badass Builds. They showed how you and your brothers all work together and argue, and at the end it had that fight with you and Nathan.”
“Right. Yeah, I remember.” We’d had cameras following us around for weeks. The director kept poking and prodding us behind the scenes about things my brothers had apparently said during their interviews. One thing led to another, and Nathan and I blew up on each other. Then it’d been another trip to the E.R. with cameras along for the ride. Fucking bastards. “The show made it look worse than it really was. My brothers and I scrap all the time. It’s kinda how we show affection.”
“Mmmhmmm.” Rachel murmured as she packed away the bandages into the case. “It can’t be easy working with family.”
I shrugged. “I don’t really know any different. I started tinkering in our garage, and it built up from there. I don’t think any of us would hack it in a corporate garage or job or whatever. We’re dysfunctional as fuck, but it works for us.”
“Well I don’t think you’ll be holding any wrenches any time soon, but otherwise you should be good to go.” Rachel stooped to stash the first aid kit.
I took a second and admired her ass. It was pretty spectacular—plump without being all in your face. I could easily imagine myself kneeling behind it for a few hours. Maybe with a handful of her hair. I’d bet she’s a moaner. Damn.
When she stood back up, her ring glinted in the light, reminding me that she wasn’t available. Fuck, I must be pretty drunk or lost more blood than I thought if I was having a hard time remembering that little fact. Maybe I should write it down or some shit.
Rachel reached for the blood-spotted wipes she’d cleaned me up with and swayed. “Whoa.”
“Shit, you okay, sweetheart?” I grabbed her arm and led her to the toilet, but she balked at sitting down.
“Yeah. I think the adrenaline or whatever just wore off. I’m fine.”
I raised an eyebrow. She’d been able to keep it together while cleaning out my little cut, but now when faced with a little bit of blood, she got all pasty? Testing my little theory, I reached for the tissues and held them at my side but within her eye line. “If you’re sure…”
Rachel glanced at the bloody tissues and immediately went white. She swayed and this time didn’t fight me as I pulled her down to sit on the closed toilet lid then shoved again until her head was between her knees.
“You’re really that squeamish about blood? How did you keep it together while digging the glass out?”
“I don’t know.” Rachel moaned as she clutched her head. “It’s a mom thing I guess. I can do it with Wyatt when he gets a cut or has a scraped knee. It’s only after when he’s all patched up and distracted by a cartoon that I fall apart.”
“His dad doesn’t help you out with that?”
Rachel gave a little snort. “Yeah no. Wyatt hasn’t seen my ex since he was about two weeks old. Neither have I. But if you see him, the California Department of Child Support Services has a long letter for him.”
I rocked back on my heels as I absorbed that little nugget. “I take it he’s not the one who gave you that ring then.”
Rachel stilled and audibly gulped. After a moment she shook her head and whispered, “No.”
“What’s his name?”
“Her name.”
“What?” It’d never occurred to me that Rachel was gay. Or bi. I thought she’d been throwin
g clear interested-but-taken vibes. Fuck me. Clearly I’d had more than enough booze. Maybe it was time for some coffee.
Rachel sighed and finally looked up at me. The chagrin in her expression would’ve been endearing if I wasn’t so fucking flustered. “My mom gave me the ring. It’s a family heirloom. I wear it to keep guys at work from hitting on me and judgmental assholes from sneering at us when I’m out with my son.”
“People really do that?” I asked before my brain caught up with the meaning behind what she’d just confessed. Rachel didn’t have a husband. “Wait, you’re single?”
“Yes, they do that. I once had a woman come up to me, ask if I was married, and when I told her no she said that she was going to pray for my soul. Like I was a heathen for not having a husband. Judgmental bitch.”
“Rachel?” I waved a hand in front of her face. She still hadn’t answered the question I really needed her to.
“What?”
“You’re single? There’s no guy waiting at home for you or worried about you staying here alone with me?”
Rachel hunched over and crossed her arms over her chest. Then she shook her head. “No, there’s no one. Hasn’t been anyone in years.” Closing her eyes, she winced. “I don’t know why I told you that. I think I need a drink.”
After taking a step forward, I dropped to my knees before her. “I think there’s been more than enough drinking here tonight. And I’d really prefer it if you were sober for this next part.”
“Why? What’s going to happen next?”
“This,” I murmured as I leaned forward, stopping when my lips were a hairbreadth from hers. After a beat, Rachel closed the distance and pressed her lips against mine.
Her lips muffled my groan of triumph. She tasted sweet—like a mixture of sugar and vanilla and Rachel. I took the kiss deeper, flicking my tongue against the seam of her mouth, silently urging her to open to me. Rachel moaned softly as I buried a hand in her hair and kissed her like I wanted. Her hands fluttered against my chest then glided up my bare skin to loosely clutch the back of my neck. No longer passive in our kiss, her mouth moved against mine, her lips soft and supple and so fucking amazing, I couldn’t wait to feel them on my dick later tonight.
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