"Honestly?" A sad smile grows on my face as I sit back on the bed next to her. "I'd be doing exactly what I'm doing now. Fixing cars is what I know. I'm good at it. My dad built this shop with the intentions of passing it down. I never would have left it. I just didn’t realize that until it was too late."
I pull her against my chest, not wanting her to see the hairline cracks in my façade. "I was only starting to become a man. I still had so much to learn from him, but he left me too soon."
"What was he like?"
Explaining Anthony Morello Senior is like trying to smell the color nine. Those of us who had the honor of knowing him knew what an amazing person he was. He wasn’t just some dumb mechanic. He was so much more than that. “He was a goofball, a romantic, a natural leader, musical genius, and a born family man. He had funny nicknames for everyone; his smile never faltered.”
My fingers run through Casey’s hair, trying to control the trembling that’s taken them over. “He taught me about music and carburetors, and a basic knowledge of business that carries me through. Family is number one. He reminded me of that fact repeatedly until the very end. You never turn your back on your loved ones. No matter what.”
“He sounds wonderful. I’m sorry you lost him.”
Still losing my hands in her hair, I nod because the lump in my throat is too large to get around. My father was more important to me than anyone was. The morning I found him in his bed was the moment my life turned to shit. It ruined me, and I can never get that image out of my head no matter how hard I try.
Jillian had already gone off to the shop that morning, but I was dragging my ass, too tired from staying up late trying to impress some random chick with my musical prowess. Getting laid and playing music were all I cared to do. Fixing cars seemed beneath me. I was born for better things than that. I was sure of it.
I was dressed and ready to head down when I noticed my father’s bedroom door was closed. It was after nine o’clock. The old man was never late for work. The pounding of my heart drowned out the creaking of the ancient floorboards as I walked to his room. I knocked at first, calling for him and praying he’d answer. But he didn’t.
“Dad?” I said again, turning the knob with shaking hands. A tense knot formed in my stomach; my palms were clammy, but my mind was still in denial. It didn’t want to admit to what my body already knew. Something wasn’t right.
He was in his bed, lying on his back. The grayish blue hue of his skin stood out against all the white in the room. I ran to his bed, but it was too late. He was stiff and so cold; I felt like my fingers would freeze just from touching him.
Stumbling back, I searched my pockets for my phone to call 911. I didn’t know what else to do. When the operator came on the line, I couldn’t say the words out loud. I didn’t want them in the atmosphere; I didn’t want to believe it. The only thing I could think about was my sister. How the fuck was I going to explain this to Jillian?
A second death.
Another lost parent.
The end of life as we knew it.
I settle back in bed taking Casey beneath me. Her slender body molds against mine the moment our lips touch. Her legs hook around my waist, encasing me in warmth. It’s so intimate. Just holding her in my arms, surrounded by her sweet scent, is enough to make me happy.
For the first time in my life, my brain isn’t screaming at me. It’s not telling me I’m the family fuck up, and it’s not shouting at me to do something worthwhile with my life. The degrading voices have stopped, leaving me with nothing but peaceful quiet and a sense of contentment I’ve never felt before. It’s because of her. She’s the missing piece. The one I’ve needed all along.
12
Casey
AJ pushes the stick shift as he puts the massive truck in gear. This time, instead of leaving his hand on the knob, he rests it on my knee. When I grin, he responds with a flirty little squeeze. As comfortable as the touch of his hand is, it doesn't stop the bout of nervousness threatening to eat me alive. Meeting his sister is a big deal.
Using one hand, he cuts the wheel and swings into the parking lot of the bright yellow building where he works. Hidden behind it, a blue-gray house sits among the trees. A garden of pink and red pansies flanks the stone walkway leading up to the tall colonial with black shutters and a black front door. A lovely little dollhouse sitting alone back here in the middle of the woods, private and secluded from the busy street.
“Your sister lives behind the shop?”
“Yeah.”
AJ grins, and my eyes focus on the crooked tooth that can only be seen when his smile is this wide. It’s so insignificant, but something about it drives me nuts. That tiny bit of imperfection on an otherwise perfect specimen that reminds me that he’s a real person. Reality trumps fantasy, always.
“This was my parents’ house. We grew up here.”
He jumps down from the truck and comes around to my side then opens the door for me. I’m fully capable of climbing down myself, but he’s always there to help me. Taking my hand or guiding my waist. Little things like that make it hard not to fall for him.
“What’s up, dick? What are you knocking for? Just come in.”
The guy in the doorway must be the brother-in-law. He’s tall, light, and has the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen on a human being, but the tattoos are a bit much. So much ink covers each arm it takes away from the size of them. I’ve never understood why someone would go through all that pain just for something that only fades over time. There are so many places to find art. Permanently embedding it into your skin seems like an unnecessary practice. AJ’s body, what I’ve seen of it, is smooth and flawless. Just the way I like it.
“I don’t want to walk in on you salivating all over my sister again, ass!” AJ threads his fingers with mine as we walk into the foyer together. “Jameson, this is Casey.”
A screech comes from deep within the bowels of the house. From upstairs, a squeaky voice bellows for her husband over the loud shriek of rock music. “Welcome to the nut house, Casey,” Jameson says turning toward the stairs, before addressing AJ again. “Zakk’s in the kitchen. You’d think the kid hasn’t eaten in days. Let me see what Jill wants.”
“My nephew is like a bear. Come between him and his meal and he’ll bite your damn arm off.”
Zakk sits in his highchair, trying like hell to get a Cheerio into his mouth but failing miserably. His lips pinch together in a pout, but his face lights up the minute he sees AJ. He pumps his little fists in the air, reaching toward him as AJ picks up the O-shaped cereal and lifts it to Zakk’s open mouth. “Miss Casey, meet Zakk Anthony Tate.”
Oversized green eyes blink at me as Zakk chucks me a toothless grin. They are the only evidence that ties him to Jameson. The thick black hair, smooth olive skin, and plump little lips are all too familiar. Zakk is a dead ringer for AJ.
As I watch him feed Cheerios one by one to the chubby version of himself, I’m so overloaded with cuteness that my ovaries quiver. I always thought nothing was sexier than a blue-collar guy, but I was wrong. Watching that same rough, blue-collar man fawning over a baby? That’s a box-clencher.
“Hey, little guy,” I croon, squatting down to his level and holding the edge of the high chair for support. “You’re a little heartbreaker, ain’t ya?”
“He’s handsome like his uncle,” AJ says with a sly grin.
Zakk smacks the tray again, making the Cheerios jump. He looks down at them in awe as if they are magic, having no idea that he was the one who made it happen in the first place.
“That he is.” I tap the tray with my fingernail. Zakk watches then repeats the action, making the tiny O’s jump again. “Smart too.”
“Yeah, he’s a keeper.”
Zakk opens his mouth, shaking his head back and forth trying to get the Cheerio resting atop AJ’s fingertip. A trickle of drool dribbles down his chin. AJ catches it with his hand, wipes it on his pants, and then goes about his business shoveling more food into t
he baby’s waiting mouth. It’s so natural. As if he's done this a hundred times and can do it in his sleep. The adoration reflected in AJ's eyes when he looks at his nephew is almost that of a parent rather than an uncle. He and Zakk have something special.
Footsteps shuffle in the hall. The tiniest, most badass looking woman I’ve ever seen comes through the doorway. A studded belt cinches her tiny waist, and a cutoff tee says Megadeth across her large chest. Jameson’s outfit is freakishly similar. “S’up, bro?” She wraps her arms around AJ’s waist and presses her cheek to his chest.
"S’up, sis?" AJ replies, returning her embrace with a kiss on her head. "Casey, this is my sister, Jillian."
“Hi, Casey! So glad you could come!” The faint smell of oranges lifts off her hair when she greets me with a less affectionate hug.
"It’s great to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Funny. I’ve heard very little about you.” She wears a sarcastic smirk as her gaze falls on AJ.
AJ rolls his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.” He pulls two beers from the fridge and opens mine before handing it to me.
“Thanks for havin’ me, y’all. Smells delicious in here."
"Compliment my sister's food and she'll love you forever."
"If she puts up with your shit, I love her already." Jill opens the oven door a crack to peek in then goes about stirring a pot of potatoes as Jameson starts laying out plates on the table.
"Let me help with that." I take the silverware from his hand and make quick work of setting it all out.
"So, Casey. You're from the South," Jillian says with a matter-of-fact tone.
"No, ma’am. I’m from Texas."
Three sets of eyes turn to look at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Texas is a whole world of its own. So much so, that it actually wanted to secede from the United States and become its own damn country. To say Texans are proud folk is an understatement. “Texas isn’t Southern. Texas is Texas.”
"What the hell are you doing in New Jersey?" She wrinkles her nose when she says the state as if it feels funny rolling off her tongue. She’s so dang cute, I kind of want to squeeze her. I’m not a big woman, maybe five-foot-five, but AJ’s sister is so little, I could put her in my pocket. With her deep brown cow eyes and fair skin, I never would have guessed she and AJ were related. Except for the smile—they both have the same wide, infectious grin that takes up half their face.
I feel AJ's eyes on me and wonder what I should say. Lying to AJ's family isn't the best way to start on the right foot, but I don't want to get into that mess about Davis and Austin either. Now is not the time to be letting out the skeletons I’ve kept well hidden in my closet. "My boyfriend at the time came for work. I followed."
"Ah, yes. What is it about men that makes us willing to drop everything for them?" Jillian turns to face me, but her gaze lands elsewhere. The fire in her eyes burns fierce and bright. I follow it and see she's looking at Jameson.
"For you, it was greasy hands and a cool car. I didn’t even have to try," he says with a lopsided grin.
"What can I say? I like them kind of dirty." Jillian shrugs.
"Aw, heck yeah. I'm so down with that," I drawl, giggling along with Jillian.
"Two peas in a friggin' pod over here," AJ mumbles with a roll of his eyes.
"Zip it, peanut gallery." Jill opens the oven and carefully removes the roast with her oven-mitted hands. "Everybody sit. Time to eat."
She and her husband aren’t what I expected. They're both so hardcore in their metal tees, him with his tats and her with her nose ring, but they’re both so friendly and welcoming. It goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover.
"Thanks so much for dinner, guys. Everything was great."
"Our pleasure." Jill smiles.
"Don't lump me in with that. Jill bought it. Jill cooked it. All I did was eat it," Jameson adds. "Beautiful and a good cook. I'm a lucky man." He drops a kiss on his wife's upturned face as he carries their plates to the sink.
"Y'all are too dang cute for words."
AJ snorts, and Jill shoots daggers at him. "All right, guys, scoot. Casey and I can't talk about you if you're sitting right there."
"You all right?" AJ mouths to me from across the room. I smile and nod. He knows how nervous I was. His family is so important to him, and I worried I wouldn’t fit in, but Jill and Jameson are great. I feel completely at ease in their company.
“Come on, Zakky. Let’s find some trouble.” Jameson pulls Zakk from his chair and disappears into the living room with AJ following close behind.
The sound of running water fills the kitchen as I stand next to Jillian at the sink, towel in hand. "So ... you and my brother, huh?" she asks, handing me a freshly washed dish.
I dry it off and set it on the counter. "It's lookin’ that way."
"I'm glad. He's been alone way too long."
"What about you and Jameson? How long have y'all been together?"
"About six years now. Damn, it feels like a lifetime. But we grew up together, so I guess it kind of was."
I do some quick math in my head. AJ was twenty-one when he had the accident. Suddenly, his grumbling and snarky behavior whenever Jameson and Jill show a little affection makes sense. "Jameson was the secret boyfriend?" It flies out faster than it takes my brain to tell my mouth to quiet down. Damn, my loose lips.
Jillian snickers. "He told you about that, huh? Shocker."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep."
"No," Jill says, with a dismissive wave. "No trouble on my end. I'm just surprised is all. He’s got a sweet, gooey center, but it’s well hidden under a thick, candy shell."
I open a random cabinet trying to figure out where to put away the stack of clean dishes piling up in front of me. “What do you mean?”
“He’s not real big on feelings.” She points to the cabinet I’m looking for. “He’s like Robocop. Never shows emotion. Never talks about anything serious. Even when our folks died, he was so blank-faced. I don’t even think he cried.”
Now that she mentions it, I have noticed his tendency to turn to stone at the drop of a hat. He’s funny and sarcastic, with an easy smile when we’re playing, but the minute he starts talking about anything serious, he clams up quick. A mask falls over his face. Deep down, he feels so much. I can see it every time he looks at me. However, for some reason, he’s chosen to box it up and hide it from sight.
It's the same thing with his Chevy. On the outside, he appears to be all big and bad with his monster truck, but it's obvious he only drives that beast because he's afraid. If he's the biggest thing on the road, nothing can hurt him.
Jillian and I finish the dishes and meet the boys in the living room. Mechanical music plays in the background as AJ smacks the mini bongo drum in front of Zakk, baiting him to hit it. He looks up at me from the floor, and all I want to do is wrap my arms around him. His confidence comes and goes in crushing waves of disappointment clearly visible in his sad eyes. I know how he feels. Both of us are stuck in this life, unhappy and unfulfilled. Maybe together we can each find the inner peace we need.
13
AJ
“Your family’s really great, AJ. I loved meeting them.”
Casey sits next to me on the bench seat, twirling her hair around her finger. She’s given up on the passenger side of the bench, claiming the center as her seat, and I’m not complaining.
My hand rests on her thigh. I move it to shift gears, and then set it right back where it belongs. On her. Not touching her is an impossible feat. The light pink color of her tank top blends in so damn perfect with the peachy glow of her skin that I’m having trouble controlling the semi I’ve been toting around all night. Her light hair is curled at the ends, just as it was the day we met, flowing over each shoulder and down her back to the waistband of her jeans.
“They seemed to love you too. Then again, what’s not to love?”
I glance in her direction before locking my gaze back on
the road. A shy smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. I want to pull this truck over and run my lips over her flushed skin, kiss the adorable pink circles on her cheeks, and lick down her chest to see how far it goes, but I already know that gorgeous shade of pink is everywhere. It blooms on her skin, darkening the more excited she gets.
The sign for Route 3 breezes past. “You missed my exit.”
“I know that.”
My gaze flickers in her direction again, and just as I anticipated, the flush deepens. Last night’s little make-out session was just a taste. An appetizer. A tiny little nibble compared to the way I intend to feast on her tonight. She's perfection in every way; I knew it the day we met, but seeing her with my family sealed the deal. Not that I ever had any doubt. Jillian would love whoever I love. She's not a stubborn ass like I am.
I pull into the driveway and cut the engine. Casey looks at me wide-eyed. “Is this your house?”
“Yep. Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”
She follows me inside as I open the door and flick the switch, bathing the open floor plan in yellow light. The house is small and sparse, but it’s mine. At least, it will be after three hundred and twenty-four more payments. I pull her to the center and point out each room as if she can’t deduce what everything is for herself. “Living room, kitchen, dining room …”
I turn and lead her down the short, narrow hall next. The only room I really wanted to show her. “Bedroom.” The clean scent of her hair and flowery fragrance of her perfume assault my senses as I back her against the wall, tasting her neck like I wanted to in the truck.
“Does this conclude the tour?” Her voice is breathless as she kicks off her boots and socks.
“Not for me.”
Her pulse beats against my tongue as it trails along her skin, wanting to sample every inch of her. My dick pushes against my fly, begging for freedom. He’s been furious at me since last night, but tonight, nothing is stopping us. I’m a man of my word, and I’m going to savor this moment.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 10
