“You ever consider you might have a happy ending in you?”
His brother—what a comedian.
Good smells greeted Bing at the front door of the Alessio home. He rang the bell, then knocked, but nobody came to the door. The loud noise of combined voices and laughter seeping from the other side was the likely explanation.
Suddenly the door swung open and a body nearly collided with his. Alexa’s cousin Kyle skidded to a halt. “Hey.” He clapped Bing on the shoulder. “Sorry about that. I’m out for more ice.”
Bing lifted his hands. One held a bottle of red wine. In the other was a ten-pound bag of cubed ice.
The other man grinned. “How’d you know?”
“Hit upon it years ago. If you come with these two items, you’ll be welcomed as a guest even if you’re crashing the party.”
“Filing it away, man,” Kyle said, then turned back into the house. “This way. Everyone will be happy to see you.”
Unsure if that would include Alexa, Bing followed. He was immediately swallowed by the crowd and he had to sidestep and sidewind his way toward the kitchen where he assumed he’d find the hostess.
“Bing,” Alexa’s mother said in pleased tones when she caught sight of him. “You smart boy,” she added, de-boozing and de-icing him. They both were passed off to a dark-haired kid who looked about fourteen. “Give these to Grandpa,” she directed. “He’s out on the patio.”
The boy moved in the right direction but Bing wondered if he’d follow the instructions. At that age, if someone had handed him anything stronger than cough medicine, he would have squirreled it away for private consumption.
“Are you all right?” Patricia Alessio asked, a quizzical expression on her face.
“Yeah. Great.” Recalling his debauched past wouldn’t send out stand-up guy vibes. “Is there something I can do to help?”
She turned away to stir a sauce on the stove that smelled so good his stomach started to rumble. At the sound, she threw a smile over her shoulder. “Go out to the patio. All sorts of things out there for hungry men to eat.”
He grinned. “Well, since you mentioned it…” The sliding glass door to the back yard slid open easily. Another crowd was gathered there and in a shift of it, he saw her.
All sorts of things out there for hungry men to eat.
Where the hell did Alexa get those dresses? This one was a shade less golden than her skin, with black embroidery hemming the short sleeves and around the low-but-not-too neckline. It went halfway between her knees and her ankles and it fluttered in the breeze. She hadn’t seen him yet.
Her name was called and she spun, and he could see there was more embroidery on the back of the dress, a large cut-out that showed her smooth skin…and that her hair was twisted in a casual knot just above the nape of her neck.
Usually she wore her hair down. He’d seen it in pony tails when she ran. But this style was more sophisticated. Elegant. It wasn’t the Lex he knew.
It wasn’t the Lex who he’d stripped, touched, kissed. Devoured. Penetrated.
His temper burned and he didn’t know who he wanted to curse, her or himself, because it hit him, low and hard. Desire. He wanted to fuck the woman in the flowing dress. Once wasn’t enough with the Lex he already knew and forever might not be enough with this liquid-eyed, flush-cheeked beauty that was Alexa when she turned and their gazes met.
Forever. Shit.
But even as images of them on the rug played through his brain, all that he hadn’t touched, tried, tasted, put more tinder on the fire kindling inside. He didn’t even realize he was striding toward her until he could smell her perfume and saw her eyes widen in belated dismay.
She took a hasty step back as if to run, but he caught her hand.
Tenderness washed through him as they touched.
He bent his head so their noses were almost touching. She was taller than usual, her feet strapped into high heels and he wanted to fuck her when she was only wearing those and nothing else. But his voice was soft and he barely tightened his grip on her fingers. “I should have called you,” he said, feeling guilty all over again. “You doing okay?”
“Yes.” She swallowed. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
“Your mother invited me.” He hesitated, wondering if he could walk away if she asked him to. “Is that all right?”
A tiny shrug. “Sure.”
“I won’t get too close.” He couldn’t, or else he might haul her off to some private place—or hell, semi-private—and start ordering her around again. Take that off. Touch me here. Promise you won’t have sex with anyone else, ever.
Ever. Shit.
“Um—” Her name came from inside the house and she looked over his shoulder. “I need to help in the kitchen…”
“Don’t worry about me.” He let her hand slip from his. “I can entertain myself.”
To do that, he fully intended to find some observation point from which he could channel Brody’s decency and knight-next-door demeanor. Nobody would know that inside was his own stained soul and a burning lust for one of their favored daughters.
But he hadn’t counted on Kyle. The other man bore down on him with a cold beer in each hand and a need for a team member for some game that involved tossing metal discs into boxes with circles cut into them. After that it was bocce ball. Then ping pong.
He was introduced to a dozen people, lost to half of them, and was exchanging horrible knock-knock jokes with an eleven-year-old girl who had a mean top hand spin, when he realized he was grinning like a loon and feeling…damn good.
Not bitter. Not angry. Not frustrated. Just relaxed and amused.
As the little Alessio went off to share her new cache of jokes, he tried figuring out what it was and why it felt the tiniest bit familiar.
The Alessios enjoyed their togetherness, he decided. They teased each other gently, laughed raucously, talked trash in ways that didn’t hurt but just added to the good-natured competition. It was…
Family.
The idea of it carved an ache the size of his fist in his chest. The damn Lemons hadn’t provided anything so wholesome, when maybe they could have at least raised their kids to bond as a more cohesive tribe. What his sister Cilla had been trying to accomplish ever since Ren Colson breezed back into town and shook up her world. Hah—that familiarity explained.
On impulse, he found a seat on a stray patio chair and pulled out his phone to make a call.
“Bing?” His sister’s voice, already with a smile in it.
“Hey.” What to say next, he had no idea.
“How are you?”
“I’m good, Cilla. I’m…more than good.”
“Yeah? Love to hear that. I myself am excellent.” Her girlish giggle and whispered “Stop it,” told him that Ren wasn’t far from her side.
“Tell your man I said hello.”
“Will do. But spill. Why’d you call?”
He just let it out. “You’re doing the right thing, Cill. I didn’t get it before. But I think we need to do this. Knit the nine together.” Didn’t that sound stupid and sappy? He clunked his head with the heel of his hand as the silence stretched on the other side of the line.
A new voice came through his phone. “What the hell, Bing? She’s crying.” Ren Colson growled out the words.
“She’s a sentimental fool,” he said. “You know that.”
The phone must have changed hands again, because Cilla’s voice came back on, sounding a little husky. “Call me whatever you want, but I’m just glad you called me.”
Bing found himself smiling at his kneecaps. “I should let you go.”
“Not until you agree to join us tomorrow night.”
“Us? Join you doing what?”
“Me, Ren, Payne maybe. I’ll call the rest too. We’re going to one of the clubs to hear Cami play.”
“I—” His head lifted as a familiar figure strolled past. On impulse, he caught Alexa’s wrist. Her sandal caught on his f
oot, tumbling her into his lap. She squeaked.
“What’s that?” Cilla said.
“It’s a who. Lex.” She was warm in his arms and her perfume was already going to his head. “I’m at her parents’ for dinner.” His sister would likely assume he’d tagged along with his twin.
“Oh? Well, tell Brody and her to come along tomorrow night too.”
“I’ll do what I can.” They hung up seconds later.
Alexa was giving him the side eye as she sat primly on his lap. She’d tried once to get up but he’d tightened his arm around his waist. “Bing—” she began.
“Go out with me tomorrow night. Some of us are going to listen to Cami.”
Her brows drew together, her lush mouth pursed. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
He didn’t want to label it. He also didn’t want to explain or explore the sudden urge. “I’ve spent time with your family. I want you around when I spend time with mine.”
Her big eyes studied him a moment, then a tiny smile tweaked the corners of her mouth. “You know, you made quite an impression with your knock-knock jokes.”
“What can I say? I’m a charming guy.” He traced her cheek with a knuckle. “Prove it by saying yes.”
The word was barely out of her mouth when a voice announced dinner was served. She slid off his legs but that didn’t diminish his good mood because he could trail behind her, watching the sway of her hips.
With full plates, they joined others sitting on chairs loosely grouped in a circle. There was grilled chicken and pasta dishes and a big green salad. Its pistachios and avocados and strawberries made him guess it was Alexa’s contribution. The young jokester dragged a stool near him. He met Alexa’s gaze over her head and they shared a smile as the girl came up with yet another groan-worthy knock-knock.
He’d just dumped his empty plate in the plastic bag an Alessio cousin was dragging around when a curly-haired toddler stumbled into their circle. Another girl, she was wearing a white shorts thing that was printed with cherries. Spaghetti sauce ringed her mouth and she had a few strands of the stuff threaded around the fingers of her starfish hands. A blade of grass tripped her up and she caught herself on Bing’s knee. Leaning there, she stared up at him with trusting eyes. She possessed four teeth and the kind of confidence that came from finding love everywhere from everybody.
She reached both sticky hands his way. “Up!”
His gaze jumped to Alexa’s. “What’s she want?”
“She-she up!” child demanded.
“That’s Lisa,” Alexa said. “And she wants up. Into your lap.”
“Uh…really?”
Tired of waiting on him, apparently, Lisa began climbing his legs. What the hell was he supposed to do but put his hands under her arms and haul her up? Once seated, she beamed at him, babbling nonsense as she pushed the spaghetti in her hands toward his mouth.
It was disgusting.
He ate the noodles anyway.
Maybe there was some kind of potion in the Alessio pasta. He was doing odd things. Feeling even stranger ones. He relaxed into the chair when the small kid clambered off him and found himself…basking.
He never basked. He worked, he ran, he drummed. He rarely stopped moving unless it was to sleep. But now, in the midst of this genial family group he sat back and…enjoyed himself.
It was almost as if he belonged, despite his dissolute youth. Among the Alessios, he felt less…tainted. No longer…
Cursed.
Glancing at Alexa, with her shining hair, golden skin, the entire package that was her wholesome beauty, he wondered if he’d really be so bad for her. Maybe dating—God, dating!—her wasn’t a terrible idea at all. Feeling eyes on him, he shifted to find fondness in her mother’s gaze. Even her father was looking at him with what might be called approval.
Being hand-fed lukewarm spaghetti by a toddler clearly was a ringing endorsement.
Alexa made some point to the person on her right, and her arm flung out, bringing attention to the fact that her wine glass was empty. Bing took it from her hand before she managed to bash him in the chin. “Let me get you a refill,” he said.
She smiled at him.
He decided he’d crawl through a desert if that’s what it took to bring her some fermented grape juice. Shaking his head at himself, he stood then made his way toward the table that held the drinks, stopping for a quick chat here and there. At the ice tub he found the bottle of white was down to dregs. Someone directed him to the beverage cooler in the kitchen.
The room was empty except for the lingering smell of garlic, rosemary, and tomato. After finding a new bottle, he stood at the window and watched the party out the glass. It was so…healthy, he guessed was the word. Good food, good people, just good.
And he felt good when he was in their midst. That taint diminished. The curse lifted.
A man came striding into the room. He halted at the sight of Bing, then came forward, grinning, his palm outstretched. “I heard you were here,” he said. “Bing, right?”
What could he do but shake the man’s hand?
“I’m one of the groomsmen,” the guy shared, reaching into the low refrigerator and pulling out a beer. “I heard you were going out with a bridesmaid.”
“Alexa.” He had wine for her, he remembered, and made for the door.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Bing stopped, and turned to study him. They were about the same age. The other man had his hair in a short buzz cut and a colorful sleeve of tats covered his right arm. “Sorry, I don’t.”
“That’s all right. The name’s Ruben. Ruben Scott. I had longer hair then.” He rubbed a palm over his crown. “And when I visited the compound we were usually both pretty messed up.”
Bing’s pleasure in the day began diminishing, like air let out of a balloon. “I should go—”
“Best time of my life,” the man continued. “Wildest time, anyway. All that free booze, free drugs, free—hot and easy—pussy.”
Shit. Bing glanced over his shoulder, hoping no one else would come in to witness this dude wax poetic about those sordid years.
“I heard you took off. Can’t see why you’d do that.”
“Yeah. Well.” Bing began edging away, wanting escape from this man, the memories, the way they both were reminding him of what he couldn’t have. What he didn’t deserve. What he might ruin just by reaching for it.
With a rueful shake of his head, the guy kept on talking. “Really can’t understand why you left. Last time I saw you, there was a mirror filled with lines on your right and a candy jar full of weed on your left. Two naked girls crawling all over you.”
If there were more lewd details to follow, Bing couldn’t stand still for them. He rushed around the corner, then came up short as he almost plowed over Alexa’s mother. From the expression on her face he couldn’t tell if she’d overheard it all. Or even a single word.
But the idea she might have sickened him. All the pleasure of the day fled.
Chapter Ten
Alexa cast Bing a glance as he drove them to the club on Sunset Boulevard just as the summer night was closing in on the warm day. Beyond a few grunts, he’d been silent since she’d climbed into his vehicle twenty minutes before. “You know, if you’re not in the mood tonight, you could have just let me know.”
Another grunt. “I wasn’t going to back out on you. If I make a promise, I keep it.” He shot her a look, then grimaced. “Most of them, anyway.”
She had no idea what that last meant exactly, but she thought the mention of promises kept was a great big hint that there was no hope for Alexa getting seconds with him.
It was true she’d been thinking about it. A lot.
Who wouldn’t want another round of incredible sex? Hot, rude, delicious sex?
Sighing, she looked out at the cars around them. The traffic was terrible and they were all stuck on this same path. Stuck like she was, unable to move.
Stuck on Bing.
“Who else is going to be there tonight?” she asked.
Instead of his truck, they were in the Triumph he’d rebuilt and she watched his large hand cover the knob of the shifter to smoothly change gears. That hand had been on her, all over her. Those long fingers in her. Squeezing her thighs together, she clamped down on an inner spasm and tried remembering good Alexa who wasn’t obsessed with what that man’s touch had done to her. His words.
When I pinch your nipple, don’t make a sound.
“I’m not sure,” Bing was saying now. “Ren and Cilla and whoever else she manages to round up.”
Alexa decided right then that she was going to pump each and every one of them about Bing. Before, she’d always avoided talking about anything that had to do with him, afraid she’d give away her interest. But now, now it was much more important that she hear the truth from those who knew him best.
There would be stories about numerous women. Surely they were aware of his no second helpings rule. They could underscore what he’d made clear himself: that for him, it was one and done. Hearing it from other voices would squelch the stupid hope that he’d make an exception for her. Yes, making herself miserable would have a positive outcome.
As they turned into the club parking lot and pulled up to the valet station, she mulled over who she should speak to first. She didn’t think she could count on Brody to give her the whole truth and nothing but the truth, because there was that twin-loyalty thing going on. He might shed his brother in too-good a light.
“I hope Reed’s going to be there,” she said aloud. They’d had a nice conversation at the compound recently. His aloof demeanor didn’t make him any less interesting, and as a writer he probably absorbed a lot about other people.
Bing said nothing, though he sent her a sidelong look before getting out of the car. She met him on the curb as he handed the keys over to the uniformed attendant. When she moved toward the club entrance, he caught her arm and hauled her close.
The warmth of his body set fire to hers. She tried not to quiver. “What?”
His blue eyes could look so hot. “Reed. He’s not for you.”
Love Her Madly Page 13
