The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection

by Alexis Winter

  He shrugs as he brings his glass of wine to his lips. “I took a cooking class back when I was in high school. I had already taken every other elective available. We had to create our own specialty dish. This was my midterm final.”

  “You totally got an A, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t want to brag,” he says, looking down at his plate.

  I roll my eyes. “I never got an A in my life. I really fucked up my teenage years. I wish every day that I could go back and live them over, so I can make the right choices this time.”

  “Everything you did back then made you who you are today. You never know. Changing one little thing could change your whole future. We may not be sitting here right now if it wasn’t for every single one of your mistakes.”

  I wind some pasta around my fork. “I guess you’re right,” I agree. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Where do you see us going? I mean, I know this is all still new, and it’s impossible to know the future, but if things continue to move forward the way they’ve been going, where do you see us?”

  He chews his food and swallows before taking a drink. “To be honest, I don’t even know where I see myself yet. For the longest time, I’ve had goals set for me. You know, graduate high school, join the army, retire from the army. I never thought past that because I didn’t realize that I’d be retiring so soon. After my last eye injury it was clear that my time in the military would be cut short. I expected to spend my life there. So now, here I am, and I’m completely lost and confused about where to go from here. I mean, I have a piece of property and enough money to build a rather nice house, but I’m living here for the simple fact that I don’t know where life will take me.”

  I nod. “Say life takes you to L.A. or New York or Florida. Where do I fit in?”

  He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. “I don’t ever want to be without you, Deven. I would like to think that if I leave, you’ll come with me. We can still do what we’re doing now.”

  “And if I can’t or don’t want to go, will you stay?”

  He tears his eyes from mine, looking at his plate as he thinks it over. After a moment, he looks back up, but I can see it written on his face. He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he admits, shaking his head slightly.

  Pain strikes me in my chest and starts swirling around inside of me, turning to anger. “So, I’m important enough to drag around with you but not important enough to stick around for?”

  His mouth drops open as his eyes widen. “I didn’t say that.”

  “That’s what you implied though, isn’t it?”

  “Deven, I—”

  “What?” I ask, cutting him off as my anger boils beneath the surface. Destiny was right. This could never work between us if we’re not allowed to be who we are, and we can’t be who we are if we’re always hiding. I want to know what it’s like to fall asleep beside him, to wake up being held to his chest. I want to be able to plan our future, not wonder whether or not we’re going to be allowed to kiss in our own apartment or walk outside holding hands. I want to know that everything will be okay and that things will work out with the two of us. If he can’t give me that, what are we even doing here?

  He takes a deep calming breath and trains his eyes on mine. “I wish I had all the answers right now, I do. But you have to understand that things like this take time. Why the sudden rush to figure everything out right now?”

  I toss my napkin down on the table and shake my head, no longer hungry. I push my chair back, needing to be able to move, to think, to put some distance between us because lately, that line has become really blurred.

  “I…I don’t know, Hudson. All I know is that I need to know where we’re going, that everything will work out, that I won’t lose you or Brad. I need a little bit of security here. Is that too much to ask?”

  He stands up and takes a step toward me. I step back, placing my back against the counter. “It’s not too much to ask, Deven. Not from a normal relationship,” he says, shaking his head.

  “But we’re not normal, are we?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and tilting my head as I watch him.

  “What do you want form me, Deven?” He holds his arms out at his side.

  “I want you to tell Brad what’s going on between us. I mean, yeah, he’ll probably be mad, but he’ll get over it. If you don’t want to tell him, I can.” I point at my chest.

  He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not ready for that. We’re not ready for that.”

  “What will make us ready, huh?”

  He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We need to know that things will work out between us. There’s no sense in ruining my friendship and your relationship with Brad over something that may not work.”

  “And how do we know if it’ll work?” I look at him. “Oh, that’s right. We have to be a normal couple!”

  I turn to leave, tired of the conversation already. He needs to know that we can be normal, so we can see where we’re going. Right now, all we’re doing is stumbling around in the dark. We’ll never find our way out, not without the light of day.

  He catches my hand and pulls me to his chest, his lips finding mine. He kisses me hard, full of passion and love. I can feel it. Why can’t he?

  His hands start on my hips, holding and squeezing so tight that I’m sure I’ll have bruises. He’s holding me like he’s afraid to let go, like he’ll lose me. Shouldn’t all this tell him something? If he’s scared to lose me, then we need to be together, not hiding.

  He picks me up against him and I don’t fight it. I can’t. I’m not strong enough. A part of me knows that this is our last time together. I want to enjoy it. But I also wonder if he’s using this as a way to distract me. Is he hoping that we can just screw our brains out some more and I’ll forget every thought in my head, every worry? If he thinks that, then he doesn’t know me very well at all. But maybe that’s because we haven’t been together long enough. He knows the part of me that I’ve allowed him to know. If he doesn’t even know me, why am I fighting so hard for this, for something that probably won’t work out, for something that will wreck me? If it hurts this much now, I can’t even imagine what a year or more of stolen kisses and hushed promises will feel like later.

  The next thing I know, he’s pushing everything off of the table, including our plates and drinks. Food and wine spills across the floor, the glass clattering from the impact, but it doesn’t pull him from his thoughts or actions. He lays me down on the table. With his eyes locked on mine, he pushes my jeans down my legs. I wrap my fingers across the edge of the table as he makes quick work of stripping me of my clothes. I memorize the way his jaw ticks, the heat in his eyes, the way his tongue darts out and wets his thick lips, the way his biceps flex, and the way his abs and chest look between my parted legs.

  I’m so caught up in memorizing every little detail that I don’t notice him freeing himself from his jeans. When he pushes into me, I suck in a loud breath of surprise and pleasure. My eyes flutter closed as he pushes deeper, harder. I let out a moan. My hands cover his hands as they clutch my hips, pulling me into his every thrust. A slow burn begins building in my lower belly. With each thrust, with each grunt, with each roll of his hips, I come a little more undone until I’m spiraling out of control.

  I call out his name and moan, enjoying this last ride, this last high. When everything calms down, he picks me back up against him and sits down in a chair with me on top of him. We never part. My eyes gaze into his own, his hands holding my hips painfully hard.

  “I don’t know where we’re going,” he says, lifting me up and lowering me back down on his length. “But I know where we’ve been. I know I’ve felt more with you than anyone I’ve ever been with in my entire life.” He lifts me again and lowers me, and this time, I rock against him. His jaw ticks and his Adam’s apple bobs.

  “I know I’m not ready to let go,” he manages to get out, e
ven though his body is coming undone. “I know I’m not ready for this to end.”

  I’m not ready for this to end. I never will be. But it’s better to jump from a sinking ship than to drown with it. I know that. Deep down, I think he does too. He’s just not ready to admit it yet.

  Nine

  Hudson

  Her eyes stay locked with mine as we ride out our last waves of passion together. When I’ve emptied myself inside of her, we both freeze. She rests her head on my shoulder and I rest mine on hers. I keep my arms locked tight around her, afraid she’ll run if I don’t keep her tied down. I’m not ready for this to end, but I don’t know how to keep it going, and I don’t know why I’m fighting so hard to keep her with me when before, I was fighting to keep her away. These last couple of weeks have done something to me, changed me in some unseen way. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know that when I come home nowadays, all I want it to see her, to talk to her, to hold her. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have her.

  “I don’t want you to walk away from me, Deven,” I say as I press a kiss to her collar bone. “What we have, it’s too special to run away from. Can’t you see that?”

  She pulls her head back and looks me in the eye. “I do.” She nods. “But I don’t want to be a dirty little secret anymore. And if you can’t promise me that one day I won’t be, I don’t see a point in moving on.” She stands, causing me to pull out of her. I’m cold without her.

  “Deven,” I try, but she shakes her head and gathers her clothes, walking away. I don’t move until I hear the bathroom door shut between us. It’s over. She and I, we’re done and even though I know it’s all my fault, I can’t help but to blame everyone else. Brad for keeping up apart and making us sneak around. Her for being so goddamn irresistible. Me, for letting myself get so fucking wrapped up in her. We’ve broken up, even though we can’t because technically we were never together. How do you grieve the loss of something you never had, of something that was never yours?

  I hear the sounds of the shower turning on and the sinking feeling of being all alone swallows me up. I fix my clothing and get to work on cleaning up the mess I made in the kitchen. I have to scrub sauce off the floor and the cabinets where it splattered. I scrub the floor and put the dishes into the sink but don’t bother with them. Instead, I grab my keys and head for the door, needing to blow off some steam.

  A little while later, I find myself pulling into Drake’s drive with a beer between my legs. I shut off the truck and take the beer into the barn where I find him and Colton working on the loft upstairs. I can hear banging and them talking. I take the stairs two at a time until I come into their view. They both stop what they’re doing and turn to face me. I plop down into a lawn chair and tip my beer back.

  They study me, wondering what I’m doing here and probably sensing that something is off.

  “What’s going on, man?” Drake asks, coming to sit on a pile of lumber that’s beside me.

  I shrug. “Nothing much. What’s up with you guys?”

  Colton drags the cooler over and sits on top of it. “Working. What’s brought you out so late?”

  I tip the beer back again, this time finishing it off. “I’m fucked up,” I confess, noticing the way I see two of them instead of just one.

  “How much have you had to drink?” Drake asks, always being the responsible one.

  “I don’t know. I lost count. Since I lost her. I lost her,” I repeat it again, trying to make myself accept it. “I fucking lost her,” I say, but this time, it comes out with a bubble of laughter.

  Drake and Colton look over at one another with wide eyes and then back to me.

  “Who’d you lose, Hudson? I didn’t know you were even seeing anyone,” Colton says, standing and taking out three beers. Drake gives him a sidelong glance for offering me another beer, but he does it anyway.

  “Deven. I lost her because I was too fucking afraid to tell Brad about us.”

  “Deven? Brad? Who the fuck is Brad?” he asks.

  Drake hangs his head and rubs his brows. “Brad is the brother of Deven, the girl that he’s been seeing.”

  Colton looks from Drake to me. “So why are you afraid to tell her brother?”

  “Because she’s his baby sister. He told me to keep my fucking hands off and of course, I didn’t!” I shake my head and scoff at myself. “Not only did I not keep my hands to myself, but I didn’t keep my dic—”

  “Alright, we get it,” Drake cuts me off.

  Colton laughs. “So, your friend told you she was off-limits and you’ve been fucking her behind his back?”

  I nod. “Pretty much, yep. That’s exactly it. And not only have I been fucking her behind his back, but I’m been falling in love behind his back too.” I look up, glancing at the both of them. “I fucking love her, guys.”

  My head falls back so I can only see the metal ceiling above me. “I love her, and I lost her. She’s gone. She’s never going to talk to me again. She’s never going to smile at me or look at me again. She’ll never let me touch her or fuck her again,” I ramble on.

  “Okay, I think someone needs to sleep it off,” Drake says, grabbing me by the shoulders and lifting me up to my feet.

  He wraps one of my arms around his shoulders, and Colton grabs the other as they help me down the stairs.

  “God, I miss her already. Her smell—she smells so fucking good. And her soft skin, I swear it’s made of fucking silk or something. And her lips, they’re so soft and sweet.”

  The two of them can’t do anything but laugh as they carry me toward the house.

  “God and her fucking body.”

  “Alright, easy now,” Drake says.

  I shake my head. “No, I’m fucking serious. Goddamn, she’s sexy as fuck. Her tits are like fucking melons. Melons I want to stick my face between and go…” I make the motorboat sound while shaking my head back and forth.

  Colton breaks into hysterical laughter, but I don’t stop. I don’t know why I don’t fucking stop.

  “And I swear, her pu—”

  “Nope, that’s enough, Hudson. Shut your mouth before you embarrass yourself any more than you already have,” Drake says.

  “I don’t see how that’s possible.” Colton laughs out.

  The two of them mange to get me inside and toss me down on the couch. It screeches across the floor with my weight.

  “What in the holy fuck is going on out here?” Celeste asks, walking out and wrapping her robe around herself.

  Drake looks at her, me, then back. “Drunk brother. Nothing to worry about.”

  Celeste looks down at me. “Hudson, what’s wrong?” Concern shows on her face as she sits on the edge of the couch by my feet.

  I lull my head back as sleepiness takes over. “I fucked her on the kitchen table just a few hours ago,” I confess. “I threw everything off of it, picked her up, and fucked her right on her brother’s kitchen table.”

  Colton dies laughing, nearly falling over.

  Celeste’s eyes grow in size as she looks at Drake. “What’s he talking about?”

  Drake waves his hand through the air. “He’s drunk, in love, and now single. You know the combination.”

  She nods. “Hudson, you just sleep it off. Everything will be better in the morning.”

  I shake my head. “Nothing will be better in the morning.”

  “Shhh, you just get some rest.” My eyes close, but I feel her stand up.

  “God, I miss her,” I mumble, sleep taking over.

  I wake in the morning to the sounds of a crying baby. I groan and roll over, refusing to open my eyes in fear of the blinding pain that I know will be shooting through me.

  “He’s still asleep?” I hear Celeste ask. “Are you sure he’s alive? Have you checked?”

  Drake chuckles. “I saw his chest move. He’s breathing.”

  “Okay, I just don’t want a dead guy left on my couch all day.”

  “I’m alive,” I shout toward the kitch
en where I hear the voices coming from.

  Drake walks out, hands in his jean pockets and smile on his face. “How you feeling?”

  “Like dog shit that’s been eaten and then thrown back up. And then run over by a car.”

  He laughs. “That sounds pretty bad.” He walks over to the recliner and sits down. I force myself to sit up, resting my elbows on my knees as I hold my head in my hands.

  “You want something to eat?”

  “God, no,” I answer, afraid to even think of food.

  “Are you sure? Celeste and I can whip you up some eggs and some bacon. Maybe some biscuits smothered in greasy gravy,” he jokes, smiling the entire time.

  “Are you trying to get me to barf all over you, ‘cause that’s all that’s going to happen if you keep talking.”

  He laughs. “Alright. Well, you heading home then?”

  I groan. “Home.” I throw myself back. “How am I supposed to live with her and not touch her?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know, but you’re going to have to unless you move out. You wanting to move out?”

  “No,” I reply. “Brad needs help paying the rent right now, and I don’t want Deven pitching in. She needs to save her money to get her own place. I’m kind of trapped at the moment.”

  “Well, then it looks like it’s just something you’re going to have to deal with.” He slaps my knee as he stands up and leaves the room.

  Two hours later, I’m walking back into the apartment, hungover as fuck. Brad and Deven are both sitting on the couch, laughing and watching TV. It’s nice to see her laugh. Wish it was something I felt like doing.

  “Whoa, walk of shame!” Brad says with a smile as I come walking in.

  “Shh. Not so loud, man. I’m hungover as fuck,” I mumble, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. I notice how clean the kitchen is and know that I didn’t do it. Not only did I walk out on her, but I left her to clean up the mess of our demise. I walk back through the living room, heading for my room.

  “Who was the hot date?” Brad asks.