“Well, ready to meet the family?” He smiles as he opens the passenger door offering Aislin his hand. Always a gentleman.
“Sure.” She smiles, praying that she is actually ready for this. Though she knows Gabe’s parents, she has never met his cousins. They are young and from the stories Gabe has told her over the years and the theme of tonight’s party, they are pretty wild--much more so than her, anyway. But, she muses, maybe wild is exactly what she needs. She clasps Gabe’s hand and uses the other to smooth her pale yellow cotton sundress and comb through her hair. The two friends climb the concrete staircase and emerge facing the large white wooden door. Gabe rings the doorbell.
Gabe’s cousin Parker greets them at the door. Aislin’s mouth drops open as she takes in his GQ good looks. She forces her mouth closed and silently prays that no drool has already run down her chin. Parker and Gabe clasp hands and embrace each other in a man-hug, slapping each other’s backs and laughing. Then, Parker notices Aislin standing to the side. He brushes his dark blonde hair from his dark brown eyes and looks over at her, smiling, revealing sparkling white, straight teeth. “Well, well, well. Gabe, what have we here?” He crooks his head, smiles over at Gabe and then looks back at Aislin.
“Mac, this is Parker. Parker, Mac.”
Parker’s brows raise and then scrunch together. “Mac? This is Mac? I always thought Mac was a guy. I mean, no offense, but Mac is a guy’s name and I…I’m sorry. I’m just surprised.” He chuckles, shaking his head. Aislin and Parker shake hands, their laughter surrounding them.
“My name is Aislin MacKinley Evans and Gabe and my brother dubbed me Mac,” she explains.
“Gotcha!” He laughs, ushering them into the living room. The room’s focal point is a large brick fireplace surrounded by a dark brown leather sectional sofa. Two wingback chairs upholstered in complimentary maroon-colored leather sit opposite the enormous sofa. Soft-colored chenille throws and matching pillows added to the comfort of the space. The dark wood of the coffee table holds several scattered parts of a newspaper, three coffee mugs and several remote controls. It actually looks inviting. Lived-in. Aislin had expected it to be stuffy and uncomfortable, having never been in such a large house. She had always assumed rich people had perfectly uncomfortable dwellings, making visitors afraid to mess up any of the designed perfection.
“Parker?” A sweet, feminine voice calls from down the hallway. “Who was at the door?” A short, average-sized woman with platinum blonde hair, cut in a chic bob framing her face enters the room from the hallway. Her eyes are the color of bluebells, her features slight and elfin. She wears a pretty floral shirt and skinny jeans and is barefoot, revealing sparkly purple nail polish on her toes. She smiles sweetly, clinging to Parker’s side. The beautiful man is Parker, Gabe’s cousin. And this is his wife.
“Hey Gabe!” She looks over at Aislin, smiling. “Who is this?” She gives him a sly grin and looks back toward Aislin again, appraising her.
Parker holds his hand up to Gabe and proceeds to interject. “Oh, you’ll love this. Amy, meet Mac.” He waits for her reaction.
Confusion knits her perfectly-arched brows together. “Mac? Like the Mac? I thought Mac was—”
“A guy, right?” Parker howls with laughter and explains my nickname to her.
She laughs and says, “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mac, and I’m so glad you could come to the party. Is the guesthouse okay, Gabe? A few girlfriends and their fellas are staying in the guestrooms here. They’ve kind of already unpacked.” She winces.
“Of course. Care if I grab some drinks and snacks? We’ll go get settled and chill a little while before the party.” After an affirmative, Gabe heads to the kitchen and Amy and Aislin discuss the party’s theme—Taboo Couples: Past or Present. Amy gives her an ornery grin after Aislin explains their costumes, but says her and Parker’s costume choice is a surprise.
†
Gabe drives to what appears, from the outside, to be a huge, modern-looking white metal barn, trimmed in hunter green. But, its outward appearance is deceiving. It is a massive bar in the form of an enormous barn, complete with a loft. The metal of the outside cannot be seen within. The walls, loft and ceiling are made with beautifully hand-stained dark wooden planks giving the place a rustic and authentic feel. High-top tables are set up around a wooden dance floor, even hay bales line the perimeter. A large wooden bar topped with marbled black granite with slices and slits of tan slashing through the exquisite rock, sits across from the expanse of dance floor and tables, opposite the entrance under the small loft area. The bar itself is well-lit and well-stocked. Aislin swallows nervously, suddenly aware of the extremely short skirt she is wearing. Glancing around, people seem already well on their way to intoxication. Thank goodness.
A lean shirtless guy clad in a huge white cowboy hat, boots and jeans smiles and moans loudly as he staggers by humping a stuffed-animal goat as he passes. Holy crap. What have I gotten myself into? She nervously looks over at Gabe, who is cracking up laughing at the apparent horrified expression on her face. He pushes his fake thick black glasses frames, taped in the middle, up onto his nose and grins. His hair is greased down as flat as his short haircut will allow. His khaki pants are hiked up way too high and fastened with a belt over his button-down white shirt, which is buttoned all the way to the collar. With his pants hiked up, you can see his mismatched socks and penny loafers. His pocket protector, filled with pens and his armful of books completes the look they’ve deemed “nerdy student.”
A pregnant nun waddles dramatically by next, dragging her priestly baby-daddy behind her. OMG. Gabe snaps the back strap of Aislin’s garter and that peeks from the too-tiny black skirt suit that she had borrowed from Ella. The differences between Ella’s height and Aislin’s means that Ella’s skirts ridiculously short on her taller frame. Smacking Gabe’s arm and giving him a stern look, Aislin makes a mental note not to bend over at any point tonight. Aislin’s outfit is rounded out with a silky pink shirt, unbuttoned to the point that her black lace bra peeks out and black suit jacket. Her long auburn hair is sleeked back into a bun, two number two pencils duel through its center. The six-inch black patent leather heels are already making her feet ache.
And, thus, Aislin is dubbed “the naughty professor.” A red pen is tucked behind one ear. Ella made Aislin promise to wear a smoky-eye and, as she described it, “whore-red” lipstick to complete the look. Aislin had complied with her friend’s request. And truthfully, she knows she looks hot. Slutty, but hot nonetheless. Gabe seems to have approved. He’s given Aislin the once over a few times and is giving anyone else who checks her out death stares. Knowing that his intentions are honorable and purely brotherly, she just hopes he loosens up and lets her have some fun. She wants to drink and dance and relax and attempt to have fun and forget about Ty. Maybe it will be possible. Maybe.
Gabe looks at her once more. His eyes travel down to her chest, then sink lower and lower until they seem to burn into the garters that hold up her black lace-topped thigh-highs. As the pair make their way through the crowd, Aislin searches her memory for any time in history that Gabe has looked at her like that, like a woman, and cannot recall a single one. She has caught him staring several times, at various parts of her ensemble and each time has left her blushing fiercely, her heart slamming up against her ribcage. Of course she loves Gabe. She always has. But, could there be more between them?
The thought sends the proverbial butterflies aflutter in her stomach. He certainly is handsome.
Chapter 3
Three amaretto sours in and Aislin is feeling warm and fuzzy. She and Gabe dance between a woman huntress and the lion that she is actively trying to mount, and a vampiress and her werewolf who is actively trying to mount her. The music slows and Aislin motions Gabe back toward the bar. He sees someone and threads his fingers through hers, leading them over to a section of hay bales arranged in a large rectangle with a couple of corners left open from which to enter and exit. He bro-
hugs a couple of guys and lightly hugs the girls that are seated with them. Parker and Amy are in the corner making out like teenagers. Amy looks up at the commotion and gives Aislin the sly grin that Aislin has noticed a few times now. She can’t help but laugh and Amy joins her. Parker’s neck and cheeks flush red.
Parker is shirtless, his man-parts covered by a barely-covering-the-goods golden fabric genie lamp. Amy, of course is dressed as a bright purple genie. She keeps grinning naughtily while rubbing Parker’s lamp, too. OMG. One of the other couples is dressed as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. The other is Gargamel and Smurfette. Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinski sit in the corner sipping beer and talking intimately, giggling occasionally. The girl’s blue dress has a huge white stain on it—appropriate. Aislin laughs. Gabe squeezes her hand and grins down at her.
Gabe introduces Aislin to everyone, but with the bubbly feeling overwhelming her brain, there is no room for her to commit all of their names to her memory now. She decides to refer to them by costume instead. Settling down on a hay bale beside Amy, the pieces of hay poke into the flesh of Aislin’s legs uncomfortably. She begins to stand when a large, calloused but warm hand settles around her forearm, pulling her up. Looking up into the strangest eyes she’s ever seen, settled into a face she is sure has been chiseled from stone, Aislin sighs audibly. The eyes look as if they are a cloudy jade color—as if the iris had been painted white and then pastel green painted over top—the color of the scummy stuff that gathers on the top of ponds. Black lashes blink and she is pulled from the trance. He said something. Crap. What did he say? One corner of his mouth curls on a sideways grin.
“Stand up a minute, sweetheart.” His deep voice resonates through her; his hand burning into her forearm. Aislin finally stands and looks at his other arm. He’s holding a blanket, which he unfolds and then lays over the bale for her and Amy. Amy must be immune to this Adonis as she stands next to Aislin smiling and then, nudges her and giggles. He takes Aislin’s hand and lowers her back to a seated position. She becomes aware of her lack of clothing and crosses her legs trying to retain an ounce of her normal modesty. Finally, she breathes and takes in his costume, which doesn’t looks like a costume at all. He wears worn jeans, work boots, a flannel shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up, and a miner’s hat. His face is streaked with black. He’s a coal miner. And a damn fine one, if I do say so myself.
“Thanks Jaxon!” Gabe slaps him on the shoulder. “I’m sure Mac appreciates not being poked by straw in all the wrong places.”
“We keep a few behind the bar. Such lovely ladies as Amy and Mac should not have to sit on straw when wearing such little amounts of clothing.” He grins and winks at Aislin and she notices him wobble slightly. He’s drunk. Really drunk. He blinks his glassy pale green eyes and then his smile fades, his brows knit together. “Wait. Mac? I thought Mac was a—”
“Guy.” Aislin, Amy, Parker and Gabe say in unison, after which they collapse into uncontrollable laughter.
“Who are you here with, Jaxon?” Amy chimes cheerfully.
He grins and says, “It ain’t who I’m here with, darlin-’. It’s who I’m leavin’ with.” The others just shake their heads and laugh. And just like that, Aislin’s vision of an angel of a man crashes into the Earth. He’s a man-whore and she’s had enough recent experience with cheating bastards to know that she never wants to go down that road again. He and Gabe talk for a bit and Aislin watches the costumed crowd sway and bounce to the beat, mixing sweat and motion into a fun Saturday night.
Aislin decides it’s time for another drink and heads to the bar, perching on a barstool while she waits her turn. The bartender is young, lean and unfortunately very busy. His short coppery hair and freckled nose speak to the boyish charm that he still possesses, while his neatly-trimmed short beard and mustache and the muscles stretching his white t-shirt hint of his manhood. Aislin decides that it’s an oddly sexy combination, on him at least. But, she is finding a lot of these guys hot tonight. Maybe she just misses Ty, she muses before her mind realizes who just crossed it. She cringes. And, there he is. He’s not gone. Hasn’t disappeared after all. The bartender makes his way over. She orders a beer for Gabe, and a round of Jose Cuervo shots, limes and plenty of salt for Gabe’s friends.
Returning with the tray of tequila and accoutrements earns cheers from her now adoring fans. “A naughty professor, indeed,” teases Gabe before he suggests they make things more interesting by licking the salt off a person of the opposite sex before downing the shots. Smurfette shoots up and suggests that to make it really interesting, it should be someone they didn’t arrive with tonight. Everyone agrees and Aislin suddenly feels nervous. She doesn’t know anyone but Gabe and while Amy and Parker are sweet, she doesn’t really feel the need to lick salt off of their skin. Smurfette agrees to start and she heads toward Gabe. His eyes light up in a silent blue dare. She licks her blue finger and spreads a line down Gabe’s jaw line, then coats it with salt. She licks her way up toward his ear and throws the shot glass back, earning cheers from us all. Gabe gets slapped on the shoulders by the guys. Aislin laughs, but inwardly she cringes. She does not like the thought of another woman touching Gabe so intimately. Though she knows it’s just a party game, she regrets even having purchased the shots now.
Gabe corners Monica and licks a finger, trailing it down toward her cleavage. The guys erupt in howls. Aislin’s entire body clenches watching Gabe’s tongue in action. After his shot, Monica crooks her finger at the Big Bad Wolf. She instructs him to lick his lips and she salts them. She licks the salt off and takes her shot. The Wolf man howls animatedly in approval. He starts walking around sniffing the ladies. Aislin, wide eyed, silently prays he doesn’t find her scent appealing. He zeroes in on Amy, circling her and sniffing, until she smacks him. Thank Goodness! He drops to his knees in front of her and howls again. She laughs and he licks around her exposed belly button. After his shot, Amy approaches Bill. He laughs as she straddles him and waggles her brows at Monica. “You’ve been replaced, girlfriend!” She laughs.
Monica replies, “As long as I get to keep the dress!”
Bill approaches Little Red Riding Hood and tugs on her braided black hair. He licks his finger and swipes down her nose, earning a cringe and laugh from her. After his shot, he says in a horrible fake Clinton voice, “That was, well, that was really great Red. Really great. Thank ya,” as he shakes her hand in typical politician fashion. Red corners Parker and rubs his lamp provocatively. Amy fakes a scowl and playfully removes Red’s hand from Parker’s lamp, earning laughs from everyone. Red licks his collar bone, salts him and takes her shot. Parker stands up, the spout of his lamp pointing gallantly ahead, toward Aislin. Oh, no. He’s coming toward me. She tries to duck behind him, but Gabe grabs her and nudges her forward toward Parker’s pointy lamp. He can obviously see her deer in the headlights looks. Damn Genies!
Parker smiles a bit shyly and whispers, “I know you’re uncomfortable but I have to. There’s no way I’m licking my brother.” Aislin nods and nervously giggles. I can do this. Parker licks his finger swipes it up the curve of her neck before sprinkling it with salt. Her skin feels cool where it’s been wet. He turns around, raises his arms inviting cheers from his friends. Whoops and wolf-whistles erupt and Aislin is sure that her skin now matches her ‘whore-red’ lipstick. He saunters back to her, his lamp spout poking her as he slowly slides his warm tongue up her neck, earning shivers and goose-bumps in his wake. No one but Ty has ever touched her like that. And...he’s back. The asshole is back. He’s like an annoying gnat. He just won’t leave me alone and no matter how many times and different ways I try to swat him away, I always miss.
The tipsy crowd of crazy costumed friends begins to chant, “Jax-on, Jax-on, Jax-on.” Aislin looks over at Mr. Miner himself as he grins wolfishly, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. He is the last man standing. The only one who hasn’t been licked and it’s Aislin’s turn to do the licking. And, she knows exa
ctly what to do. He smiles smugly and invites the cheers, reveling in the attention. Attention he will get, she decides. Aislin roughly pushes him down onto a bale of hay and approaches slowly. Gabe holds the tray for her. She pulls the pencils from her hair letting it fall in loose waves down to her lower back before seductively shaking it out. She uses her knee to nudge his knees apart and steps into the space between. Jaxon’s hands automatically go to her the edge of her stockings and the garters holding them up. The skin of her thighs pebbles. But Aislin isn’t sure if it’s from the chill in the air or the warmth of his calloused hands. She scowls and snatches his hands away in mock admonishment. His eyes widen and dilate, jaw clenches as if hungry. Could he be attracted to me? I hope so. I hope this is divine torture—especially if he really is a cheating man-whore.
Aislin leans down slowly, his eyes leaving hers to evaluate the lacy black bra before they snap back up to her face as her warm breath approaches. “Ooooo’s” erupt behind them. She slowly licks his dimple, raking her tongue across his coarse stubble. He might have just come from working in the mines, but the man smells delicious. His cologne is intoxicating—masculine and strong like him. Jaxon grins at her, deepening that dimple. She sprinkles salt on it as best she can, tiny grains pepper the tops of her feet. Jaxon’s eyes widen but his smile never falls. Aislin hears a “Damn, girl. That’s hot,” and a “Do me next!” from a couple of guys behind them. She forcefully grabs his jaw and slowly licks the salt away from Jaxon’s deep dimple before throwing back her shot. The liquid mixes deliciously with the salt, burning a fiery trail down her throat to her belly, erasing the memory of the taste of Jaxon’s skin, and his lingering scent. The crowd…goes…wild! She giggles, stepping away from Miner-boy and looks over at Gabe, whose denim eyes now flash almost black with anger. Uh-oh. I was just playing around like everyone else. Time for a diversion.
Devil Creek Page 3
