by DL Roan
Beside her, Matt released a relieved breath and took her other hand back into his own. “I’m sorry, Claira. When I saw your reaction I thought you were one of those people.”
“No! That’s not what I have a problem with. I mean…” She lowered her gaze back down to her hands in theirs. Her stomach fluttered and her nipples pebbled beneath her shirt. Mason caressed gentle circles in her palm with his thumb, sending a throbbing tingle shuddering through her pelvis. She closed her eyes as she tried to remember what she was saying. Oh, yeah. That I can’t think when they touch me like this.
“Oh,” Matt chuckled. Her eyes flashed open to see a haughty grin plastered across his face. Oh my Lord, what have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Seven
Please, please, please let me not have said that out loud!
With one of his hands coupled with hers, Mason’s other arm came to rest on the back of her chair. He rubbed small circles at the base of her neck, fiddling idly with the strands of her hair. The muscles in Claira’s shoulders relaxed, only to tense up again as Matt leaned toward her.
Her eyes fluttered closed and she could feel his hot breath brush across her lips. Mason’s fingers slid up her neck, caressing and massaging as they progressed to the base of her skull, sending a rush of chills down her arms and a flood of heat between her thighs, causing her lungs to short circuit and refuse to release her last breath.
“I have that same problem when I’m with you.” Matt’s voice vibrated over her skin. His lips feathered over hers so softly it tickled, teasing her with tiny nips and caressing glances.
Claira swallowed as she fought against the need to lick her lips. The dire need to breathe began to burn in her chest and, God help her, she wanted to kiss him.
“Wha—what problem is that?” she finally asked, breathing the question out with a long sigh, her lungs clawing at the inside of her chest for her next breath.
She could feel Matt’s grin against her lips. His breaths came in short, rapid puffs as the tip of his tongue traced her bottom lip with flirty touches. “I can’t seem to keep my thoughts inside my head either when I’m around you.”
His hand came to rest on her cheek, the sudden touch startling her into a gasp. Matt captured the sound and took her mouth with his own, ever so tenderly prodding her to open to him.
Claira released a whimpering sigh when his hot tongue slid past her lips and caressed the tip of her own. A fire ignited in her womb, sending tendrils of heat snaking up to her breasts and down between her thighs as he deepened the kiss, twirling his tongue leisurely against hers and then retreating to nip at her bottom lip again.
Her body softened against him. She moaned into his mouth, surrendering to another invasion, this time meeting his demand with her own. It had been three years; three long years since she’d been kissed. And never like this. The way Matt was kissing her, possessing and teasing her, it was as if she were the most cherished person on Earth.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Taste him. You’re so beautiful.”
Mason hadn’t wanted to say anything, for fear of startling her out of the moment, but he couldn’t contain the rush of admiration and lust that accosted his senses. She was glorious, like an angel. She was so sensuous and responsive. The way she leaned into Matt’s embrace and her little moans of desire were killing him.
His heart pounded a rapid beat inside his chest in a vain attempt to circulate the blood that had vacated its chambers and flooded to his groin, creating the hardest erection he’d ever had in his life. He couldn’t wait until it was his lips that tasted her. He didn’t want to scare her off by pushing her too far their first night but, God help him, he didn’t think he could wait until the next time he saw her.
Claira wasn’t sure if it was the sound of Mason’s voice or the car door slamming in the distance that pulled her out of a near meltdown and back to the harsh reality of her life. She flinched away from Matt, sobering with regret when she glanced at Mason. How could she have kissed his brother while Mason watched?
She opened her mouth to apologize but Mason cupped her face in his hands and dropped an innocent kiss to the tip of her nose. “Don’t panic, sweetheart. It’s just our parents and the boys. They’ll be glad to see you.”
Just their parents? Just their boys? Someone, please dig a deep-deep hole and bury me. What had she been thinking, coming here? Kissing them? Well, technically she’d only kissed Matt, but even that was just…wonderful. No. No. No-no-no. It was wrong. She shouldn’t be kissing anyone.
She bolted from the chair and ran her trembling hands down the front of her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles. She checked all the buttons on her blouse and then ran her fingertip over her lips. With any luck, most of her lipstick had been wiped away with her napkin during dinner. Her gaze darted to Matt’s lips. Oh, thank God it wasn’t smeared all over his face. She was a teacher. Their children’s teacher. Their parents’ grandsons’ teacher. This was so not good. Not professional in the least.
She grabbed up her purse and ran a hand over her hair. When she noticed Matt and Mason slouched comfortably in their chairs, both sporting a mischievous smirk, she felt a spark of anger flash through her.
“You’re laughing at me.” She pulled her purse strap over her shoulder and crossed her arms over her chest. “You think this is funny? Oh my God, you do!” When their smirks turned to full-on grins and Matt chuckled, she turned on her heels and marched toward the door.
“Darlin’, don’t be angry!” Matt shot up from his chair and took off after her. He reached her in three strides and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to a stop. “We couldn’t resist, darlin’. You are so damn cute when you’re all flustered.”
“Don’t you darlin’ me. You…you set all this up. You never intended to talk about tutoring Con, did you? You—you what? You expected me to come here and—and…” God she didn’t even know what she thought they wanted from her.
“We expected—no, we hoped, you would have dinner with us and we’d get to know each other better.” Mason stepped around Matt and cradled her neck in his hands, tilting her head back to look at him, “That’s all, sweetheart. We do want you to help Con. We’d like for you to meet our parents, but we didn’t expect what happened in there tonight. Hoped, maybe. Prayed? Yeah, a lot, but not expected.”
Claira looked at Mason and her whole world was reduced to just them. She wanted to believe him. She did believe him. She didn’t know why, but she hated being angry with him. Matt, she could be mad at Matt. For whatever reason, Matt pushed her buttons; all of her buttons, including the ones that made her want to rip off her clothes. Mason was a gentle soul, gentle with her. She wanted to trust him.
She released a sigh and found herself snuggling into Mason’s chest when he wrapped her in his soothing embrace. “I believe you. It’s just…I’ve had a trying day and I’m a little overwhelmed by all of this.”
“Aw, Claira, darlin’. We didn’t mean to upset you.” Matt stepped up and ran his hand along her arm in such a gentle caress that she reached out for more when he pulled away. Darn, she wanted to be mad at him. “Let us get the boys settled into bed then we’ll sit on the porch for a little bit, have some coffee. We want to hear about your bad day. Maybe we can help you forget about it, or at least feel better about it. Our folks won’t stay long. I promise.”
Claira would bet they could make her forget. All it would take is two seconds of another one of Matt’s kisses to send her straight to Amnesiaville. That was part of the problem. She couldn’t afford to forget herself. She didn’t know if he was out there, watching her, but she did know the consequences for anyone she might let get that close.
Before she could tell them she was leaving, the front door swung open and two Tasmanian whirlwinds rushed inside. Claira wrenched herself from Mason’s arms.
“Daddy Mason! Daddy Matt! Papa Jake and Papa Nate want to see the puppies. Can we go show em’?” Car shrieked as he ran up to Mason, unfazed by the presence of
their teacher standing in the hallway with their dads. “I know we’re still grounded until tomorrow, but they haven’t seen em’ yet and we want Papa Jake to help us pick out the one we’re gonna’ keep.”
“Whoa there, sport. Aren’t you two going to say hello to your teacher?” Matt playfully scolded as he scooped Con into his arms.
Con smiled at her, Car sparing her the briefest of glances before he greeted her. “Hi, Miss Robbins.” Before Claira could respond, he looked back up at Matt and held his hands out in a show of impatience. “Now can we go show the Papas the puppies?”
Matt let Con slide to the floor. “Make it quick. You’re still grounded for tonight so that means lights out by eight.”
“Come on, Con! I bet they pick the white one.” Car pulled Con back through the front door, the screen door slamming behind him.
Claira was stunned on so many levels. She’d been worried about the twins seeing her with their fathers. They obviously couldn’t have cared less.
The biggest thing she was still trying to process was the ‘Papas’, plural. Did that mean their dad and Sarah’s dad? Or were they saying they, too, had more than one father like the twins. And how did that work, really? How did they know which one of them was their biological father?
Her first question was answered when the screen door opened again and a petite, dark-haired woman was ushered in by the tallest man she’d ever seen. He held two bags in his long arms and reached for one of the trays in the woman’s hand.
“Don’t just stand there, boys. Help your mom get this stuff to the kitchen,” the man ordered.
Matt and Mason jumped to their mother’s side and began taking the load from her arms. “Hey, Mom. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble. You know we can cook for ourselves these days.” They each laid a kiss on her cheek.
Once her hands were free, their mother reached up and patted them both on the cheek. “It’s never any trouble taking care of my boys.”
Matt and Mason walked back toward the kitchen with their goodies, leaving Claira alone in the hallway with their parents. She stood unnoticed and watched as their mother turned and removed her sweater.
“Most of it is leftovers from the Ladies Auxiliary luncheon this afternoon,” their mother shouted down the hall as she searched through her purse for something and then hefted the designer bag to the top of the growing pile in her husband’s arms. “I think Mrs. Porter made an extra apple pie just so I’d take it home to you boys. I had room in the oven for an extra pan of chops when I made dinner tonight. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know those boys can eat you out of house and home. Never hurts to have…Oh!”
Claira felt like an intruder as the older woman froze in mid-turn and looked at her with a wide eyed expression. She made her way to Claira with her arms outstretched in a warm greeting.
“Good Lord, boys. You didn’t say you had company.” She pulled Claira into a friendly hug. “I’m Hazel McLendon and I apologize for the lack of manners my boys are showin’ tonight. But,” she shrugged, “you do the best you can while you have them and then their fathers go and mess it all up.” She turned a slanted gaze back to the man at the door. “Josiah McLendon, did you know about this?”
Josiah’s sheepish grin said he did.
“I’d extend a hand,” Josiah lifted the bags in his arms, which were now weighted down with all of the other things Mrs. McLendon had piled on top of them, “but I drew the short stick and got to play pack mule.”
Claira suppressed a giggle when Mrs. McLendon rolled her eyes and swatted his backside, prodding him toward the kitchen. “Nice to finally meet you, Claira,” he mumbled as he marched obediently down the hall.
“You know her name?” Mrs. McLendon shouted after him. “You did know about this!”
Well, shit. Joe bit his lip to keep from cursing aloud. When Matt called and told him about Claira, and asked them to take the boys for the afternoon, he and the other dads had made up some crock about them not having time to get to town for supplies and groceries. He didn’t know what their sons were up to and hadn’t wanted Hazel to go nosing around. Joe made a mental note to tell his brothers that one of them was sleepin’ on the couch tonight. It sure as hell wasn’t gonna be him.
Hazel shook her head and grabbed up Claira’s hand with a chuckle. “It’s not every day they get one over on me, but when they do…”
Claira liked the woman on the spot, but she still felt out of place. She had no experience with a family dynamic like theirs. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding. I drove out to speak to Matt and Mason about tutoring Con. I guess dinner ran a little later than they planned.”
“No need to apologize, honey. It’s been a long time since my boys entertained anyone of the female persuasion in this house. And don’t you worry, as soon as I get the food put away, and my men gathered up, we’ll be heading out and you can carry on with your dinner.”
Her men?
“Oh, that’s ok. We were pretty much finished up anyway, Mrs. McLendon.” Claira lied. They hadn’t even discussed Con at all. Of course she had no problem feeling guilty about that now.
“Call me Hazel, dear,” the other woman insisted as she pulled Claira toward the kitchen.
She could hear voices as they approached the kitchen, but a sudden silence filled the room when they entered. The men shared glances with their father and then their mother. Josiah cleared his throat and smiled at his wife. “Am I released from duty, Mrs. McLendon?”
Hazel reached up on her tiptoes and kissed Josiah’s chin. “Yes, dear. I’ll only be a minute. Go pry your brothers from the twins so our boys can get them ready for bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Josiah turned and gave Claira a fatherly squeeze. “Don’t let our boys cause you any trouble, missy. If they do, you give me a call and I’ll straighten them out for you.” Claira chuckled and nodded her agreement as another deep voice called out from the hallway.
“Mom! Poppa Joe! Did you guys buy a go-kart? What is that thing parked next to Matt’s truck and how did that big dent get—?”
Grey froze in the doorway as he took in the scene in his kitchen. His brothers, who were both sporting shit-eating grins, were leaning against the sink behind their mom, who still wore the look of sympathy she’d had for him since Sarah passed away. His dad had his arm wrapped around the one and only star of his recent and unwanted wet dreams.
The delectable Miss Robbins was standing in his kitchen. In Sarah’s kitchen. His cock sprang from half mast, where it had pretty much stayed since the last time he saw her, to a full blown hard-on right there in front of his mom. Ho-ly hell.
Chapter Eight
Guilt slammed into Grey’s chest, squeezing the blood from his heart. What the hell was she doing in Sarah’s kitchen? And why the fuck was his dick inflating like a damn parade float on speed?
“What’s wrong, Grey, honey? You eat something for lunch that didn’t agree with you?” His mom discarded the pie she was putting away in the fridge and reached up to place a hand on his forehead like he was still a two year old. Grey jerked away from his mother’s ministrations and glanced at his brothers, and then back to Claira.
“Yeah, bro. You look like you’ve been suckin’ on a sack full of lemons all day,” Matt taunted him with a knowing smirk.
“Daddy Grey is home!” Two small but loud voices called from the hall. The twins slammed into Grey’s legs with unabashed excitement. “Daddy Grey! Daddy Grey! Papa Jake says he likes the gray puppy, but…but Papa Nate says we should pick the white one.” Car pulled at Grey’s pant leg and reached up to tug at his hand. “I want you to help us decide, daddy.”
“I like the black one.” Con sniffled and wiped at his runny nose with the back of his shirt sleeve.
“Here, Con.” Hazel ripped a paper towel from the roll on the counter. “Blow,” she ordered and Con complied without complaint. She dabbed at his face and then tossed the towel into the trash. “What did the pediatrician say about his allergies, Grey?”
Grey stared at Claira. He couldn’t look away. He’d spent the last three days trying to work her out of his system and now she’d invaded his home, his only safe place.
“Grey?” Hazel prodded. “Con’s allergies?”
Grey snapped his focus to his mom and scrubbed a heavy hand over his face. “They’re running tests, Ma. Doc Jessop said we should keep him out of the barn during haying season.” He looked down at his sniffling son. “Which, other than being grounded, is another good reason for both of them to stay out of the barn.” He ruffled Car’s hair and gave them a both a pat on their rumps. “Go brush your teeth and get ready for a bath. Then it’s bed time for both of you.”
“But, daaaad! I’m not sick!” Car whined.
“I’ve had enough of your arguing, boy! Do what you’re told! Now, or you can kiss your puppies goodbye!” Grey snapped back. The boys’ excitement withered and they sulked their way up the stairs without any further arguments.
Grey’s burning glance shot to Mason and Matt, daring them to challenge him, then back to Claira again. She felt it hit her square in the stomach like an invisible force. The tension in the room was thick enough to stir with a wooden spoon.
She found herself pinned by Grey’s icy, green stare. Besides her embarrassment over their first meeting, she also began to feel like Alice in Wonderland; specifically the part where she would drink the potion and shrink to the size of a thumbtack. Or was that when she ate the cookie? Either way, Grey’s intense stare had reduced her to the size of a bug and he was looming over her with his big foot poised above her head, about to crush her to smithereens. The expression on his face told her that was exactly what he thought of her; a parasite that had invaded his home.
