by Layla Hagen
“Julie,” I start calling. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen,” a muffled voice sounds, and my heart regains its normal rhythm. I hurry to the kitchen and find Julie looking out the window to the backyard with wide, fearful eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask her.
“I don’t understand,” Julie murmurs. “How can Max be in two places at once?”
“Two p—? Oh, no,” I groan, realizing what this is about. Opening the door to the backyard, I yell at no one in particular, “Christopher, Max, show your faces. Both of you.” My prankster brothers. They said they’d join us later because they had some business downtown, but I didn’t see them arrive. Within seconds, both of them walk to us, and I can’t help grinning. They are both wearing dark burgundy polo shirts and jeans. The jeans aren’t identical and neither are their haircuts, but for someone who doesn’t know them, I can see how this can be confusing—and scary. Christopher also looks much more tired than Max. He has dark circles under his eyes, and it’s not surprising; he’s been traveling back and forth from Hong Kong lately.
“Julie, my brothers are—”
“Identical twins,” Julie exclaims. “Max, you never told me you have an identical twin. That must be so cool. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it at the wedding.”
“What were you thinking?” I admonish them.
“When you told us she was coming, we realized she’s the only person here who doesn’t know we’re twins. We couldn’t pass up the opportunity,” Christopher says. Or it might be Max. Goddammit, I can’t believe I have trouble telling them apart even now. I concentrate on their haircuts, trying to remember who had the longer hair. It was Max, okay. So my first instinct was right. He’s the one talking. “For old time’s sake, you know.”
“You scared the living daylights out of her.” I work as much severity in my tone as I can. But one look at Julie reveals that all traces of fear are gone from her expression. She’s giggling.
“You’re adults,” I tell my brothers.
“A fact we like to forget whenever we have a chance,” Christopher says seriously. “Most of the time, we aim to achieve that as soon as we’re out of the office.”
“And especially when we’re in the company of a fellow like-minded young lady,” Max adds. Julie’s expression lightens up at being dubbed ‘young lady.’ Typical of my brothers to charm everyone into forgiving them.
“Pity we don’t have any nephews yet,” Christopher says. “So many new possibilities for pranks.”
Max opens his mouth, then closes it again as the sound of loud cheers reaches us from the front of the house.
“Looks like the game’s over. Let’s see who won,” he says.
The four of us walk outside, and I turn to Julie, informing her, “Julie, I need to teach you basic survival skills in the Bennett family.”
“Sounds exciting,” she says.
“Whenever someone pranks you, you have to make them pay.” I give my brothers the stink eye.
Julie frowns. “How?”
“You have the right to ask them to bring you whatever you want.”
“Nah, don’t teach her that,” Max complains in a low voice.
“You mean like ice cream and stuff?” Julie asks.
“Exactly. The key is to make sure whatever you want isn’t easy to get. Make them jump through hoops, and be obnoxious,” I elaborate.
Julie turns to the twins. “I can’t decide yet. I’m thinking either cheesecake or ice cream from my favorite gelateria downtown.”
“You’re a pro at this,” I say appreciatively.
Christopher sighs, telling Max, “Man, I just met her and I’m whipped already.”
That’s when I notice Eric watching us from afar. He stands at the far end of the makeshift soccer field, away from everyone else. I leave Julie with my cousins’ girls again and then jog to my man, who’s a little sweaty from the game and a lot sexy.
“Great game, Callahan. Word on the street has it your team won.”
“We did.” He pulls me in to a quick kiss and then goes inside the house. Mom has a number of T-shirts ready for people to change into after a game.
I wonder why my brothers haven’t ambushed Eric or flexed some of those alpha muscles they’re so proud of. They are being remarkably civil, and whenever they talk to Eric, they stick to business topics. By late afternoon, most of the guests are gone, except for the kids, who will stay here overnight. My mom has grown attached to the little ones. They belong to some cousins from my dad’s side, who moved to San Francisco about four months ago. Mom has been inviting their children for sleepovers almost every weekend during school days, and now that they’re on vacation, they’re here during the week too.
“Mom is in dire need of grandchildren,” Alice remarks. Right now, Eric and I sit outside at the table with her, Sebastian, Ava, Logan, and Nadine. “She keeps organizing sleepovers for all her nephews.”
“Don’t look at us,” Nadine says at once, then points at Sebastian and Ava. “They’re married already. They should have kids.”
Sebastian gives Logan an uncharacteristically smug smile.
“Now, now,” Logan says, patting Nadine’s arm. “If we could set our wedding date—”
“Oh, my God,” I blurt, realizing what Sebastian’s smug smile was about. Looking from him to Logan, I ask, “You two are still trying to win that bet, aren’t you?”
“Pippa,” Logan and Sebastian warn me in unison, but it’s too late. Nadine and Ava are already glancing at me curiously.
“What bet?” Nadine asks.
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
“Pippa Bennett,” Ava admonishes, “spill it.”
My brothers are shooting daggers with their eyes at me.
“Well,” I say, “they made a bet about ten years ago about which one of them will have the firstborn in our family.”
Nadine elbows Logan. “So that’s why you’re in such a hurry to have the wedding?”
“We’re going to be the first ones anyway,” Sebastian says.
“We’ll see about that,” Logan counters. There’s so much testosterone at the table it’s nearly suffocating. Nadine and Ava look at their men, both incredulous and proud.
“There goes your Keeper of Secrets title,” Eric whispers to me.
“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Sebastian says, his tone serious again. “The ranch renovations are going well, but Dad wants to keep a closer eye on the team. Thankfully, he understands he can’t do it himself. It’s a miracle that he’s on board with it.”
I smile to myself, certain that my little tough love speech at the hospital is the reason for that, but seeing how I just outed my brothers’ bet with my big mouth, I’ll keep the bragging to a minimum.
“We could oversee the construction project by rotation,” Max suggests.
“Yeah,” Christopher agrees. “I’ll be flying back to Hong Kong in two weeks, but I can help until then.”
“I was going to suggest we do it by rotation too,” Logan says. “Sebastian and I worked out a schedule.”
Logan takes out a folded paper from his pocket, which I suspect is the schedule. Blake, who is inspecting the paper from behind Logan’s shoulder, whisks it from his hands, staring at it incredulously.
“Logan, if you spend so much time at the ranch, your fiancée might decide to dump your ass,” Blake says, and adds with a wink to Nadine, “In case she does, there are plenty single Bennetts waiting to take your place.”
Nadine immediately protests, and Logan is red in the face. It’s almost hilarious watching how quickly Blake can rile up Logan. Sebastian, who has his arm around Ava’s waist, merely cocks an eyebrow.
Daniel and Blake exchange glances, and the former steps up. “Yeah, you two have pretty women waiting for you back home. Why don’t you leave the shifts to the single men in the family?”
“That’s a great idea,” Max jumps in, then turns to Sebastian and Logan. �
�Besides, you two shouldered a lot of the work at the ranch when we were kids. Time for us younger ones to pick up the slack.”
No one speaks for a few seconds, and the air is thick with emotion.
“Thanks,” Sebastian says eventually. “Logan and I will stop by on weekends anyway."
“Your family is interesting,” Eric says as we leave the group a while later, walking toward the house to find Julie and leave.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. The way you go from annoying each other to working together like a team.”
“Never a dull moment with the Bennetts. I couldn’t imagine what being a single kid is like.”
“Much duller.” Eric’s eyes cloud for some reason, and he shakes his head as if to clear his mind. “What were Max and Christopher doing with Julie earlier?”
“Initiating her in the arts of being a Bennett,” I explain.
“She looked very happy.”
“Yeah, I think they want to teach her some of their mischief skills. You might have a lot on your hands afterward,” I warn him.
Eric flicks his hand. “I can handle mischief.”
“Like you handled the glitter episode?” I ask as we step inside the house. I love my parents’ home. It’s warm and cozy, perpetually smelling of something delicious. Right now, I detect cinnamon and vanilla in the air.
“That was an ambush. Big difference.” He hooks an arm around my waist, pulling my body against his. We’re alone in the hallway, but with so many people on the property, it’s very likely we’ll be interrupted soon. Still, feeling the hammering of his heart against his chest makes all my girl parts tingle and yearn for him.
“You look happy too,” I murmur.
“I am. I would’ve loved this as a kid. Family gatherings were always formal. I had to dress up like I was going to the opera every time.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Did you wear a bow tie?”
“Of course. It was obligatory. Cufflinks too.”
“Oh, my God, you must have been so cute. I mean, you’re cute now too.”
“I refuse to be described as cute.” Eric steps back, folding his arms over his chest as if he’s serious.
“Why?” I ask, baffled.
“It’s not manly at all.”
“How about if I add shark to it? Cute shark.”
“How about Master of Pleasure? I can also work with Master of Orgasms.” The fact that he says this with a straight face makes me laugh.
“You’re singing your own praises,” I tease.
“Are you saying I don’t deserve those names?”
“Mmm,” I say coyly, shrugging.
“I’m warning you, that is a dare. I will make you regret teasing me.” Eric accompanies his warning with a heated gaze, and even though my entire body flames up under his intense scrutiny, I hold my own, not breaking eye contact. Within seconds, the sexual tension between us is so thick you couldn’t even cut it with a knife. You’d need a machete.
Or my mother.
She clears her throat loudly, and I snap my head in the direction of the sound. She and Julie are walking toward us like two women on a mission.
“Eric,” Mom says, “would you let Julie spend the night here with the other girls?”
His expression grows tense within seconds. “She has—”
“Please, please, please, Dad,” Julie says. “All the other girls are staying overnight, and they are awesome.”
Her eyes are wide and pleading. Ah, she’s bringing out the big guns.
“She’ll be safe,” I murmur to Eric.
“Whose side are you on?” he asks me. I wink at Julie, and Eric shakes his head. “Fine.”
Julie smiles brightly, and Eric all but melts looking at her. “You are the best dad in the entire world.”
“Mrs. Bennett, when should I pick Julie up tomorrow?”
Mom waves her hand. “Give me a call in the afternoon. You and Pippa enjoy the time together.”
I blush furiously as Eric bids her good-bye and takes Julie to one side, presumably to give her instructions to be on her best behavior. As if it’s necessary. This girl is precious.
“Pippa, can I give you a piece of advice?” Mom asks me.
Uh-oh.
A truth that should be universally acknowledged is mothers are always right—whether they give you advice or a warning. It took me a while to accept this truth. I’ve never been rebellious, though I did have a wild streak here and there toward the end of high school. My rebellions were more of the ‘Of course I’m going to wear this mini skirt, even if it’s below zero outside’ type, despite my mother’s advice. I’d remember that when I got sick. In my mid-twenties, I progressively realized all of my mother’s warnings turned into reality. At thirty, I’m almost afraid her words have prophetic qualities.
“Sure.” I eye my surroundings, wondering if I can find an excuse to make a quick escape. Not likely. She cornered me in the hallway.
“If you find a good thing, don’t let it go.”
My heart squeezes, and I blink rapidly. “Mom—”
“I want you to be happy again.” She pulls me in to a hug I return.
“I am happy,” I whisper in her hair. “I have all of you.”
“There are several kinds of happiness, Pippa.”
I pull away from her as Julie and Eric approach us. He attempts to hug Julie good-bye, but she pushes him off, mumbling, “Dad, I’m too old for hugs in public.”
“You’re never too old for hugs,” I tell her, but she shakes her head. Eric looks taken aback by her declaration, and I feel for him, so I squeeze his hand lightly. After verbal good-byes to Julie, he and I walk to the car together.
Once inside, he says, “We are about to have some alone time.”
I sink lower in the seat, blushing. “Yeah. The evening got much more interesting.”
“Let’s not forget the night too,” Eric says in a husky, delicious tone, which sends a jolt right through my center.
“What about the night?” I tease.
“So many possibilities,” he whispers. “All of them involve you staying up and screaming my name.”
“Eric.” The word leaves my mouth almost on a moan.
“Stop saying my name like that, or I’ll pull over somewhere dark and make love to you right here in this car.”
“Then drive faster, Callahan,” I challenge. “Can you do that for me?” The skin on my entire body tingles. I can’t believe all it takes for me to ache for him is some sexy banter.
***
I will never know how we made it inside my apartment.
“Your couch is about to see some very X-rated action,” Eric says, lowering me on it.
“I think it can take it,” I assure him. “It’s a naughty couch, like its owner.”
“Oh, you’re not just naughty.” He brushes his thumb against my temple, kissing the tip of my nose. “You’re feisty and sexy.”
“Admit it,” I say. “I’m perfect.”
He pauses a beat before answering in a serious tone, “You are.”
Levering himself over me, Eric brushes his mouth against mine, then gently nips with his teeth at my lower lip. His eyes sparkle with desire, and something deeper.
“I love having you in my arms, Pippa. You belong here.”
I quiver under him with unspoken emotions. I needed so much to hear that. Eric’s grip on my waist tightens, and he sighs against my neck. The muscles on his arms tense under my touch.
“What’s wrong?”
“You make me want to give you more.”
“More what?” I ask, confused.
“More of me. The trouble is, I loved and lost, and I don’t know what’s left of me.”
This moment is so real and raw that it almost frightens me. As does the realization that he has my heart, I have his, and neither of us knows what to do about it. I take his hand, turning it palm up and planting a kiss in the center, watching him all the while.
“We’
ll find out together,” I whisper. “You have so much to offer, Eric, and you have given me so much already.”
There’s uncertainty in his eyes, and I know that words alone won’t change that. I resolve to show him, in every way I can. He smiles and nods, but his vulnerability is almost palpable, and all my instincts want to put him at ease. That’s why I kiss the corner of his lips, adding, “I like what I’m seeing so far.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yeah. A man who is loving and caring.” I kiss down his chin, his faint stubble grazing my lips. “It doesn’t hurt that you have a hot body too,” I add as an afterthought, and his face instantly lights up with the Cheshire Cat grin I love so much.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re sweet talking me so you can use my body. You’re taking advantage of me.”
“Who knows,” I tease. “Maybe I am. But I do really like you, though.”
“I suppose that makes it all right.” Eric laces his fingers with mine, pushing my arms against the couch. The corded muscles of his thighs press my legs together. He’s trapping me beneath him, and he leans in to a deep kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth tenderly for long minutes, until I whimper with need and desire. He moves down my neck, nipping and biting me gently. I roll my hips in to him, beyond aroused, but Eric merely shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips.
Staring me straight in the eyes, he presses the head of his erection against my thigh. I fight to keep my composure, but my shallow breath gives me away. When he rubs himself slowly—oh, so slowly—against me, I nearly lose it.
“Oh, God.” I lick my lips, writhing under him, the feel of his hot length against my skin almost too much. “I need you.”
Eric takes off my shirt and jeans, nudging my knees open with his, and then he slides back, kissing my neck before descending to my breasts. My nipples pucker, begging for his attention, but he ignores them, sliding further down. The bastard. He stops at my navel, swiping his tongue over it. The gesture sends deliciously hot and cold shivers all over my skin. He moves to my thighs, completely ignoring my throbbing center.
