Anna Martin's First Love Box Set: Signs - Bright Young Things - Five Times My Best Friend Kissed Me

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Anna Martin's First Love Box Set: Signs - Bright Young Things - Five Times My Best Friend Kissed Me Page 62

by Anna Martin


  “That’s why I let Lacey do her thing when she got married.”

  “So, when are you going to have kids?” Evan’s mom asked, and Scott choked on his latte.

  “Mom,” Evan complained, thumping Scott a few times on the back.

  “I’m fine,” Scott croaked. “Jesus, Stacey. Warn a guy before you say stuff like that.”

  “He’s trying to get me pregnant,” Evan deadpanned, just to try and get a rise out of their mothers. “It’s not working, though.”

  “Evan,” his mom scolded, and when Scott hit him on the arm it hurt a lot more than when his mom did it.

  “Can we take a rain check on that question?” Scott asked. “A really long rain check.”

  “You’re thirty-four, Scott,” Annie said. “And not getting any younger.”

  “You’ve already got three grandkids and another one on the way. You don’t need any from us.”

  “Lacey loves being pregnant,” Evan added. “I’m sure she’ll have a whole bunch of kids.”

  “We’ll keep nagging them, Stacey,” Annie said, patting Evan’s mom on the hand. “We’ll wear them down eventually.”

  She checked the watch pinned to her shirt and sighed. “I need to get back to the ward. I have three days off after today, though. Lunch tomorrow? Bring Mark, Stacey. I’ll call the kids.”

  “Family dinner?” Scott asked.

  Stacey nodded. “Family dinner. To celebrate.”

  Scott squeezed Evan’s knee under the table. “Sounds perfect.”

  Family dinner to Stacey meant more people around her dinner table than had made up Evan’s whole family growing up. Being the only child of an only child single mother whose grandfather had died when he was still an infant, meant the whole Sparrow clan had been a lot to deal with at first.

  Evan had made peach cobbler for dessert because Scott insisted it was his favorite and secretly claimed it was better than his mom’s. Their new marriage hadn’t changed much so far. For their Saturday night entertainment, Scott had ordered Thai food, and they’d watched The Addams Family on Netflix. Life was good.

  “Hello?” Scott called, letting himself into the house he’d grown up in.

  There was a cacophony of yelling in response, and Evan instinctively ducked, scooping up Tom’s youngest under his arm, pleased Scott had been the one to pick up the dessert.

  Having known this kid since the day she’d been born, Evan casually grabbed one ankle and dangled her from it as Scott closed the front door behind them. Violet was clearly still strongly influenced by her two older brothers, despite only being two and a half years old.

  “Hey, munchkin,” Scott said, turning his head to the side until she giggled and screamed again.

  “Fine, I’ll put you down,” Evan sighed. He set Violet back on her feet—carefully, because she was still small, bless her—and she immediately took off into the house again.

  Scott ran the back of his fingers down Evan’s exposed forearm and smiled. “Come on.”

  The real action was in the kitchen, as always. Evan’s mom was sipping pale liquid from a wineglass as she sat on a barstool with her ankles crossed. Evan went to her, kissed her cheek, and accepted her firm hug.

  From there, hugs were order of the day. Everyone knew they were married by now, but Scott had agreed that instead of touring all their family’s houses for the afternoon, they’d just catch up over dinner. That suited Evan just fine. He really didn’t want them to make a fuss.

  Mark too pulled Evan into a firm hug. Evan leaned into it, surprised to find himself almost choked up by the gesture. He and Mark were good friends, always had been, but Mark had no parental desire at all, and since Evan had known him, Mark had treated him like a friend. An equal.

  “Your mom and I are so happy for you,” Mark said, a small smile gracing his handsome features. “You’re a good man, Evan. I’m glad you found him.”

  “Thanks,” Evan said. He pressed a hand to his sternum, suddenly emotional, and hugged Mark again.

  He escaped with a glass of lemonade, finding Lacey in the living room playing cars with Violet.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Brought you this.”

  “Thanks.” She punched him hard on the arm.

  “Ow! Why do you people keep doing that?”

  “Because you fuc—because you freaking eloped!”

  Violet didn’t seem to notice the slip and continued to play quietly.

  “We did,” Evan admitted, holding out his hand so she could study the ring on his finger. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that the girls wanted to see the ring.

  “How was it? Hopelessly romantic?”

  Evan toed his shoes off and nudged them under a side table, then sat down cross-legged next to her and grabbed a tank to push back and forth aimlessly.

  “Yeah, I guess so. It was pretty special.”

  “My brother is pretty special.”

  Evan huffed a laugh. “I’m so happy, Lace. This is perfect.”

  She rubbed her heavy pregnant belly with the palm of one hand and nudged her shoulder against his. “You’re family now. Another brother. I thought I had enough of those, but apparently not.”

  “I like being family. Officially.”

  She took his hand and pressed it to the gentle rise of her stomach. After a moment, there was a firm kick from within.

  “Jesus, Lacey. That’s freaky.”

  “He’s in a wriggly mood.”

  “Baby?” Violet asked.

  “Yep,” Lacey told her. “Your baby cousin. He’s being a wriggle-bum.”

  Violet abandoned her tank formation and came over to press both hands to Lacey’s bump. For a second, she held herself there, then frowned at Lacey.

  “He’s not moving now,” she complained.

  Lacey moved Violet’s hands carefully, and a moment later, Violet jumped back with a squeak. Lacey laughed.

  “There you go. I told you he was wriggly.”

  Violet screwed her nose up. “I don’t like babies. I like cars.”

  “Me too, kid,” Evan said. Lacey bumped against him with her shoulder again.

  “How would you feel about being godfather to this one?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I was planning on asking you anyway. It seems even more fitting now, somehow. You and this little dude are the newest members of the family. You should stick together.”

  “I’d love to. Thank you.”

  Evan wrapped his arm around Lacey’s shoulder and squeezed her gently, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “I’m not sure what a godfather does, just as fair warning. You’ll have to give me very clear instructions.”

  “I do when I want you to do anything.”

  “That’s not fair,” Evan complained. Lacey just laughed.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  From farther in the house came the noise of running footsteps, and then Tom’s oldest child skidded to a stop in front of them.

  “Hi, Uncle Evan. Dad says I should tell you con… con-rat….”

  “Congratulations?” Lacey supplied.

  “Yeah! That. And tell you lunch is ready.”

  “Thanks, Drew. I’ll help your Aunt Lacey get up and be in in a sec, okay?”

  Drew nodded enthusiastically. “Come on, Vi,” he said, taking his sister’s hand and leading her into the dining room. Violet still had one red fire truck clutched in her chubby fingers.

  “I worry about that kid,” Lacey said under her breath.

  “She’ll be fine.”

  Evan got to his feet, then held both hands out to Lacey to pull her to her feet. She stumbled, groaned, then smoothed down the oversized shirt she was wearing so it covered her ass.

  From the feast spread out on the dining room table, Evan thought Annie must have been cooking for most of the morning. She’d made fresh biscuits, an enormous roast chicken, mashed sweet potatoes, ears of corn, a pot pie, meatloaf, green bean casserole, and a mo
untainous pile of buttered peas.

  “Jeez, Mama,” Scott said as he surveyed the table. “Did you invite half the naval base to come join us too?”

  “Just made a few of your favorites,” she said, grinning.

  “I’m not complaining,” Tom said as he reached for a biscuit.

  “Wait,” Ashley told him, slapping at his hand.

  Tom pouted at his wife, then turned and made sure both his boys sat comfortably. Drew was six, Owen five, and Violet had been contained in a high chair she was rapidly growing too big for, as it proved an effective containment device during mealtimes.

  Evan took a seat with Scott on his left and his mom on his right, then looked around the table. The Sparrows had been family since he was a kid. Having them all together, multiple generations, felt like the most perfect way to celebrate the next chapter of his relationship with Scott.

  Jim Sparrow tapped the side of his wineglass with his knife and rose from his seat at the head of the table. Before he had even said anything, Evan felt his face start to heat. Under the table, where no one could see, Scott squeezed his knee and left his comforting hand there.

  “I’ve given a speech at all of my kids’ weddings,” Scott’s dad said, looking around the room. “So I hope you didn’t think I would give up the tradition this time. Yesterday my son married the love of his life… literally.”

  Evan chuckled softly, and Scott’s hand on his knee tightened again.

  “I have never been more proud of Scott, and I have never loved Evan more. It took them plenty of time to figure out what we’ve all known since they were children—that they are, undoubtedly, the most perfect match for each other. I wish for you love and happiness and friendship. To Evan and Scott.”

  Around them, family raised their glasses and one sippy cup. “Evan and Scott.”

  Scott put his hand on Evan’s cheek, drawing it ’round to plant a firm, important kiss on Evan’s lips. Their moms were sniffing, hiding tears in the good napkins.

  “Eat!” Annie insisted, and Evan laughed with Ashley as Tom reached again for the basket of biscuits.

  It took plenty of fussing and passing dishes back and forth across the table until everyone had something resembling a balanced meal, and Evan wanted Scott’s hand back on his knee. Instead he satisfied himself with his foot hooked around Scott’s ankle, almost resentful of Scott needing a second hand to eat with.

  “So, are you Sparrow Kings, or King Sparrows?” Anthony asked, wiggling his eyebrows while Lacey rolled hers and elbowed him in the ribs.

  Evan gave Scott a look, and they both grinned back.

  “We’re not sure yet,” Scott said. “Sparrow King sounds like a football team mascot, and King Sparrow sounds like a young adult fantasy novel.”

  Anthony barked with laughter. “I won’t argue with that.”

  “We’re thinking of absorbing each other’s surname as middle names,” Evan added. “We’d keep our own last names that way.”

  “That could work.” Anthony nodded.

  “How about you? Any potential names for my nephew yet?”

  “I am no longer allowed to make suggestions,” Anthony said, smiling sweetly at his wife. “Am I, darling?”

  “After the great Brayden/Cayden/Jayden argument of last week, no.”

  “Are those names in or out?” Scott asked.

  “Don’t,” Anthony said, holding both his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I can’t go there again. I’m not strong enough.”

  Tom’s middle child poked Lacey in the arm. “I think you should call the baby Owen.”

  “I think that could get a bit confusing, sweetheart,” she said. “But it is a good name.”

  “It is,” he agreed solemnly, then dug back into his peas.

  “I think he might be a Cooper,” Lacey said, rubbing her belly again.

  “I like Cooper,” Annie told her.

  “Me too.”

  Anthony wisely stayed silent.

  While the others cleared the table, Evan divided the peach cobbler into bowls and let Scott scoop vanilla ice cream on top of each portion. They’d already agreed to take dessert outside, where the afternoon had turned unseasonably warm.

  “Here,” Scott said, holding out the spoon for Evan to lick clean. It was good ice cream, the fancy kind that his mom used to get for special occasions when he was a kid. Evan wrapped his tongue around it, then pulled Scott into a kiss to share the flavor.

  “Gross.”

  “Sorry, kid,” Scott said, pulling away and laughing.

  Evan handed Drew a bowl, then held another out. “Think you can manage taking one for Owen as well?”

  Drew nodded and let Scott slip a spoon into each bowl before carefully walking away with them, his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration.

  Evan caught Scott’s gaze again and couldn’t help the dopey smile that spread across his face.

  “I love you,” Scott said, crowding in close once more. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

  “I know,” Evan said cheekily.

  Scott laughed. Their next kiss was sweeter, ice cream free, and chaste.

  “Would you make love to me tonight?” Scott whispered, his voice a husky growl in Evan’s ear.

  “You wanna bottom?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay.”

  Scott didn’t bottom all that often. Evan loved it, craved the feeling of his man inside him, and didn’t mind one bit that Scott preferred to top. It had taken almost a year of their relationship growing and filling with color and detail before Scott was ready to try that. In the years since, he only asked for it every few months.

  Evan smoothed the pad of his thumb over Scott’s palm, enjoying the tiny shudder that seemed to crawl down Scott’s spine.

  “Any particular reason for that request?”

  Scott leaned over and kissed Evan’s neck below his ear. “I just realized I never had my husband inside me before. I want to fix that.”

  “Seems as good a reason as any,” Evan said. He hoped his voice didn’t sound as thick as it did in his own ears. He hoped Scott couldn’t see how his whole body had suddenly gone tight with desire. He hoped, and knew Scott would see all of it anyway. There was very little Evan could hide from Scott.

  They stayed another half hour, watching the night creep down to meet the sunset. Lacey was asleep on a lounger, Anthony with her feet in his lap, gently smoothing them as she dozed. Tom had long since rounded up his kids, carrying a sleeping Violet, draped over his shoulder, to the car.

  It took a little longer to say their good-byes to their mothers, who had decided they needed to share at least one more bottle of Prosecco to celebrate their children’s nuptials. Evan held Annie close as she sobbed something about him being her son too now, after all these years, and tried very hard not to cry. He was pretty sure Scott was going through the same conversation with Evan’s mom.

  They got back to a cool house and a cat who demanded love and attention before she went back to sleep on her big leather armchair.

  “I’m going to go take a quick shower,” Scott said as Evan started his routine locking the house up for the night.

  “Okay.”

  They stared each other down for a moment, and when Evan surged forward he was met with Scott’s fingertips on his mouth.

  “Don’t,” Scott said, shaking his head. “If you kiss me now, I won’t be able to stop, and I know what I want.”

  “Shower,” Evan said. His voice came out much lower than usual. “Quickly.”

  Scott took a deep breath and turned on his heel, marching off to their shared bathroom. Evan adjusted himself in his jeans and went about his usual evening routine, making sure Princess had water for the night and drawing curtains where needed. In their bedroom he lit the few candles he kept for nights like this, when they wanted to make love in the warm glow of candlelight. It was romantic; he didn’t care about the cliché.

  The shower was still running, so Evan stripped out o
f his clothes, dumping them in the laundry hamper, then lay facedown on the bed and pillowed his chin on his fists, face turned to the door. It didn’t take long for Scott to come out, toweling his hair with one hand.

  “Jesus.”

  “What?” Evan asked.

  “Your ass. You need to keep that covered. You make me want to change my mind, and I just went to some effort to prepare myself for plan A.”

  Evan snorted with laughter and attempted to hide it in a pillow.

  Scott finished drying off his hair and tossed the towel on top of the laundry basket. His skin was still damp when he flung himself onto the bed, and Evan attached his lips to the skin on Scott’s shoulder.

  “If you change your mind, that’s fine,” Evan murmured, then accepted Scott’s tongue in his mouth. Their kisses were always so sweet, so fucking good that Evan almost wanted to whine at the contact. At the taste.

  “I won’t change my mind.”

  “Okay,” Evan said. “Can I lick your ass?”

  “Jesus,” Scott breathed. His tone alone was enough to make Evan laugh.

  “You can say no.” Evan skimmed his hand over the smooth skin of Scott’s ass, then squeezed it gently.

  “I don’t want to say no.”

  “On your front.”

  Scott wasn’t a blushing virgin, but he always seemed to turn into one when he bottomed. He buried his face in the comforter and hugged a pillow to his chest. Evan bit one asscheek, where it met the top of Scott’s thigh, just to make him yelp.

  “I fucking hate you,” Scott grouched. The words were muffled, his face still hidden in the pillow.

  “I love you too, baby,” Evan said.

  He settled himself between Scott’s thighs and placed his hands one each on Scott’s asscheeks, lifting and spreading them. Scott whimpered and canted his hips back. They were still working out Scott’s comfort zone, though it was a journey Evan was having hell of a lot of fun on. There was no need to rush to the finish line.

  Evan leaned in and lapped at Scott’s taint, dainty little licks that got Scott groaning. He was loud in bed, Evan loved that about him, and it spurred him on to get that reaction more and more often.

  He was teasing, and Evan knew it, biting and licking and rubbing his thumbs along Scott’s crack, getting him wet and needy. Both were important. By the time he got his tongue flickering over Scott’s asshole Scott was moaning long and low, filthy noises, and the way he was rutting his hips told Evan he was rock solid hard. Evan loved him like this.

 

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