Kiss Me Crazy: Bridgewater County - Book 6

by Vanessa Vale

  Maybe if I ever did fall in love, I’d end up exactly like the rest of my family. Cold and bitter.

  Or uncaring. Jackie didn’t care about Collin’s feelings. She didn’t care about him.

  God. I was like that. I had one-night-stands and walked away. I didn’t care about a guy I was with past the sunrise. Even with Dash and Jackson, I’d had fun with them in Minneapolis and walked out. No goodbye. I hadn’t cared about them or their feelings.

  Deep down, I’d always known that was exactly what would happen and was why I ran from love. I’d rather live a loveless life on my own than be trapped in a miserable marriage. Or hurt someone like my parents hurt each other. Or how Jackie would ultimately hurt Collin once she had his ring.

  Anger coursed through me swift and fierce. Anger at my parents for raising us to be this way. Anger at Jackie for not caring enough about love. Anger at Aunt Louise for her part in the matchmaking scheme she and her friends had hatched. I mean, handcuffs?

  She knew what the rest of the family was like and should know better than anyone that I wasn’t capable of love…not that kind, at least.

  I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder and another at my waist, startling me. The feel of those warm, intimate touches brought tears to my eyes. I blinked rapidly, cursing the stupid surge of emotions. No one wanted to be that chick, the one who cried at a bar. And I wasn’t even drunk. No, I was too sober.

  “Want to get out of here?” Jackson murmured in my ear, close enough to be heard over the jukebox.

  The feel of his beard stirred me from my thoughts. I nodded. “Yes, please.”

  I let them lead me away. I should have said goodbye to my sister, but I couldn’t bring myself to face her just then. She only had interest in Baldie and besides, I’d see her at the rehearsal dinner. Maybe by then I could bring myself to talk to her without revealing my disappointment.

  Dash held out my coat and as I put it on, he opened the back door. A frigid wind came down the street and kicked my hair up into my face. While the sidewalk was clear of snow, piles of it edged the road.

  “Do you want to go home?” Dash asked, concern written all over his handsome features.

  I shook my head quickly, an image of my parents’ bickering made me want to cry all over again. “I can’t go back there right now.”

  Jackson gave me a small smile, tapped me on the nose. “He didn’t mean your parents’ home. He meant ours.”

  “Oh.” I thought of how safe and content I’d been in their bed just this morning. And even though I knew it was the wrong thing to say, I told them, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

  10

  DASH

  * * *

  I worried about Avery the whole drive home. We both did. I’d been keeping one eye on the road and another where she huddled between us. I caught Jackson watching her as well, one of his arms wrapped firmly around her in comfort.

  We hadn’t seen or heard everything that had gone on with Avery and her sister but from the aftermath it was clear that whatever it was, it had really shaken her. She looked distracted as she toyed with one of her rings, spinning it in a circle as we drove in silence.

  “Hungry?” Jackson asked, once we led her inside.

  She shrugged and when he met my gaze, I shrugged, too.

  “I’ll just fix a snack.” He went into the kitchen and I heard him pulling things from the fridge. I led her into the living room, pulled some wood from the basket on the hearth and started a fire in the fireplace.

  “This place is nice,” she said.

  I lit a match, set it beneath some kindling, watched as it took.

  “It’s so…” she shrugged as she ran a hand along the mantle with its lineup of framed family photos. Finally, she finished, “It’s so cozy.”

  I laughed, stood, scratched the back of my neck. “Cozy, huh? That doesn’t exactly scream masculine.”

  While she’d spent the night here, we hadn’t given her much opportunity to check anything out besides Jackson’s bed.

  She tipped her head back with a laugh. The sound made some of my anxiety ease. She couldn’t be feeling too terrible if she could laugh like that.

  “Are you sure you don’t mean rustic? Earthy, maybe?” I teased.

  Coming over to my side, she wrapped an arm around my waist and looked up at me, tucked her hair behind her ear when it fell in her face. “Hmm. Nope, I’m sticking with cozy.”

  I feigned offense and she squeezed me, letting her head fall against my chest in a way that made me ache for her to be ready for the next step. I couldn’t wait to say the words I love you and maybe even have her say them back. I was a Bridgewater man through and through and holding it in was killing me. She was The One and I was so fucking glad we ran into her at the airport.

  “Cozy is perfect,” she said. “This place feels like a real home.”

  The sound of the logs crackling from the growing fire sounded good and the heat against my legs did feel…cozy. Especially with Avery in my arms. Maybe it was cozy now that she was here.

  I grinned as I kissed the top of her head. “Good. I’m glad you like it since we’re hoping you’ll make this your home someday, too.”

  Her head snapped back and I bit back a curse at my stupidity. I shouldn’t have pushed the issue, not now when she was obviously feeling vulnerable and even more prone to flight. Yeah, she was a runner, that was for damned sure.

  We turned at the sound of Jackson’s grumbling coming from the kitchen doorway. “Forget he said that,” he said, his easy charm coming in handy at the perfect time. He had no snacks in hand, so I had to assume he’d heard our conversation and abandoned them.

  I could feel Avery’s body relax as he moved toward us with a grin. “As you’ve probably figured out, Dash doesn’t exactly do subtle.” He paused just long enough to give me a warning look.

  Point taken.

  He turned to Avery again.

  “Besides, it’s not like we’re going to handcuff you to our bed or anything.”

  The sarcasm made her smile.

  “Tonight isn’t about trying to convince you to be with us for the long haul. We just want to show you what it could be like at home with us. A nice, normal night in.”

  She pulled out of my hug, crossing her arms over her chest as she moved around the room. I would have thought she was studying the pictures and knickknacks if I hadn’t heard her short, humorless laugh. “Normal for whom? Nothing about this house is normal in my world.”

  Jackson and I shared a wince.

  “Your parents’ party last night?” She turned to face us with raised brows. “That was not normal.” She was starting to get worked up as she paced. “The loving family that welcomed me into their home with open arms? Not normal.” Spinning to face us once again, she gestured wildly to Jackson, herself, and then me. “This…whatever this is…is not normal. You guys are being too nice to me. You expect things of me as if…”

  We waited for her to finish her rant and when she didn’t, Jackson prompted her. “As if what, sweetheart?”

  Her eyes came up to meet mine and I flinched at the pain I saw there.

  “As if I’m capable of giving it to you.”

  I moved to her then, enfolding her in my arms and crushing her to me once again. I’d do just about anything to keep from seeing that look on her face again or the hurt in her eyes. “Baby doll, you have more love in your heart than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  She was stiff against my chest but I heard her sniffle. I knew she was listening, and I knew she wanted to believe. She wanted love, wanted everything she said was not normal. Hell, she just wanted a new normal. It was right there for her to take, she just had to take it. Choose it.

  Choose us.

  Jackson moved to her side, stroking her hair. “You’re not like your family, Avery. We’re not like them.” He gave a short laugh. “Hell, no one else in Bridgewater is like them. You can choose to be in a relationship completely unlike your parents.”

 
She shook her head against me and I just barely heard her mutter something about her sister was like them. Jackson and I shared a look. So that’s what had set this off.

  “You are not your sister, baby doll. I assume the guy she was with wasn’t her fiancé?”

  She shook her head against my chest.

  Fuck. There was no doubt where those two were headed after a few drinks. I sighed.

  “You might not be able to stop your sister from following in your parents’ footsteps, but that doesn’t mean you’re destined for the same.”

  I loved having her in my arms, loved the soft, warm feel of her, but she was so strong and independent, I was torn between being thrilled she sought comfort from both of us and sad that this was making her so upset enough to accept it.

  “You’re meant for more than that,” Jackson said firmly.

  She pulled back again, but slowly this time. She looked between us, but wasn’t running away. “How do you know?” Genuine confusion filled her eyes as she took another step back. “I don’t get it. Why do you guys want me? For all you know I could be just like them, blasé about relationships and unable to commit and—”

  I cut her off with a kiss. “You aren’t any of those things.”

  “But how do you know?” she insisted. “I ran out on you in Minneapolis, just like Jackie will with that biker guy in the morning. I’ve never been in a real relationship. I wouldn’t even know how. For all I know, I’d be just like them and—”

  “Are you dating anyone other than us right now?” Jackson interrupted.

  She stared at him for a second before rolling her eyes. “Of course not.” Then her mouth hitched up in the start of a smile. “When would I have time? I’m either with you or sleeping off what we did together.”

  Jackson grinned. “And you just said you’ve never been in a real relationship before, right?”

  She nodded.

  “So why wouldn’t you be able to commit?” Jackson took a step toward her and I wrapped my arms around her from behind.

  I picked up where he left off. “Being able to commit isn’t a hereditary gene,” I said. “It’s a choice. You can decide whether you want to be like them or whether you want to use that experience as a guide for what you don’t want in a relationship. You could learn from them and make different choices. Better choices. Besides, it’s easy to commit when it’s with the right person.”

  Jackson nodded in agreement. He stood right in front of our girl, his hands cupping her cheeks. “When Dash and I see you, we see that big heart of yours. There’s no doubt in our minds that you’d be the most loyal and loving wife and mother two men could ever hope for.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Leaning over I whispered in Avery’s ear, loudly enough for Jackson to hear. “I’d like to note for the record that it was Jackson who mentioned marriage and kids tonight. Not me.”

  She giggled and I loved the sound. “Duly noted.”

  Jackson pretended to scowl, but I knew he was just as happy as I was to hear her laugh again.

  I felt her back expand and contract as she took a deep breath. “You really think I have what it takes to commit, huh? And you’re willing to bet on that?”

  “Baby doll, we’d put our money on you any day of the week.”

  She squeezed my forearm that was around her waist in thanks.

  “It’s a choice, sweetheart,” Jackson added. “We’re just hoping that you choose to be with us.”

  Her silence lasted so long I started to worry that we’d pushed her too hard. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she said she needed some time to herself tonight. But instead, her tone was low and sexy when she half turned so she was facing us both. “No handcuffs needed?”

  All the blood in my body went straight to my cock.

  “No handcuffs needed,” I confirmed. “If you’re a good girl.”

  “What do I get if I’m good?” she asked.

  “How about a bigger sized plug and a good fucking?” Jackson asked.

  “And if I’m bad?”

  She was a vixen. Instead of answering, I bent down and threw her over my shoulder. Jackson stepped out of the way so he didn’t get taken out. She laughed the whole way upstairs as Jackson pretended to chase us. I gave her a swat on her jean-clad ass and knew she’d like whatever we did to her, bad girl or not.

  11

  AVERY

  * * *

  As I sipped my glass of cheap wine at my sister’s wedding reception, I’d have preferred to be just about anywhere else. In bed with my men was the most attractive option and one that made my panties wet.

  Yes, I was crazy since I thought of them as my men.

  They were here, somewhere, but I’d had to leave them behind to go off and do the ridiculous family photos. I told my parents I was bringing them as my dates and neither of them had reason to refuse, or argue. They’d wanted me to date a nice Bridgewater man and I was giving them two. As long as I didn’t do the walk of shame, they didn’t seem to bother me about it.

  Even the photographer looked depressed by the way my parents were behaving. They stood bickering and squabbling until the photographer said “cheese” and then they burst into fake smiles for the camera. My sister and Collin were faking it as well, albeit to a lesser degree. A quiet dig here, a not so quiet sigh of annoyance there. Over and over. Wash, rinse, repeat.

  The groom’s brothers and I stood on the sidelines, entering into the frame when the photographer beckoned but largely ignored on the whole. Which meant I had nothing to do but stand about and watch my family in all their dysfunctional glory.

  I shook my head, remembering what the guys had said about choosing to be different. I didn’t have to let my parents’ toxic relationship define me. I could choose a different pattern, to respect the men I chose to be with. To like them as people. As friends. As lovers, even. I could love them.

  It was a choice. Instead of standing in my heels that were starting to pinch my toes and obsessing over my family’s irritating ways, I tried counting my blessings.

  The wedding cake had been surprisingly good. My Aunt Louise had made for an excellent partner-in-crime at last night’s rehearsal dinner. I hadn’t been allowed to bring a date, let alone two—the reservations had been made ages ago—so Dash and Jackson hadn’t been by my side to keep me company. I’d had my aunt in my corner, taking on the guys’ unofficial role of buffer between me and my family. Aunt Louise had been a blast and it had given us a good chance to catch up.

  Of course, my persistent aunt had spent the better part of our catch-up time trying to finagle details out of me about what happened with Jackson, Dash and the handcuffs—which I refused to share—but it was still fun nonetheless.

  I would have paid money to have her by my side to distract me from the photo shoot from hell. I caught my sister making sexy eyes across the room at some guy I didn’t recognize, but who sure as heck wasn’t her husband. It was her wedding day, for god’s sakes, what was wrong with these people?

  I took a long swig of my wine and tried to focus on the positives again. The DJ didn’t totally suck, playing more than just my sister’s favorite, Country. And best of all, I’d met some people who wanted to chat me up about my writing.

  It seemed Rory and Cooper from the Wray holiday party had spoken to some friends of theirs who ran a local guest ranch. I’d heard of Hawk’s Landing, but never stayed there. I did know where it was and the setting was perfect for a getaway. Apparently, the helicopter pilots had sung my praises because the owners, Ethan and Matt, were eager to hear how I might be able to feature their ranch in an upcoming article.

  They grew men big in Montana because the duo was as big as Dash and Jackson. Their wife, Rachel, stood between them, and since she came up to their shoulders, she only accentuated their size. Clearly pregnant, she was super cute in an empire-waist velvet dress.

  Rachel mentioned the idea to a few others in the tourism industry—she was the guest ranch’s office manager—and were brainstormi
ng of starting up a magazine that was entirely devoted to Montana travel. They all seemed to think there was a market for it and the idea had taken hold and started to grow. Even now, with the ridiculousness of my family front and center, I felt that rush of adrenaline that always came with a new story idea. And I didn’t have to go to Brazil or Mexico or even Thailand for it. It came to me at Jackie’s wedding reception.

  Focus on that, I told myself. On all the articles that could be written about this gorgeous state and its fascinating people.

  But no sooner had I started brainstorming than an all-out war erupted between my mother and father that sent the groom’s brothers running. My sister and Collin got in on the act, Jackie taking my father’s side and Collin taking my mother’s. Over what? It was hard to tell. Judging by the volume levels, one might have guessed that my mother had just accused my father of murder. But once their words started to register, it became clear that this particular battle had to do with the amount of liquor being drunk.

  My blood boiled at their rudeness and I was completely embarrassed I was related to them. I fought the urge to throw myself into the mix to put an end to the scene they were causing. I might have, but my guys came along and saved the day. The wedding? Not savable.

  “Come on, baby doll,” Dash said as he wrapped an arm around my waist and steered me away from the bickering. “This isn’t your problem.”

  Jackson walked beside us, his smile already distracting me from my anger. “We’ve missed you, sweetheart. We’ve been waiting for you to finish up your work talk so we can take you out on the dance floor.”

  Some of my tension melted away as my guys took care of me. I wasn’t in this alone. And my family? They could be miserable without me.

  “I don’t know if I’m up for dancing just yet.” I held up my near-empty wineglass and lifted my foot in the air and wiggled my ankle. “My feet are killing me. Maybe another drink first to take the edge off and numb my toes.”