by J. D. Dexter
My eyes are sparkling under the bright lights, the color high in my cheeks. A flushed and excited woman stares back at me from the mirror.
Oh, sweet Bessie. That man. Mmm.
I move back out to the bathroom to find all of the gloriousness covered. I pout for a second, sad to not be able to see it again.
Hunter’s laugh draws my attention. “Don’t get me started again. We don’t have that kind of time.”
I’m really glad we have similar senses of humor. Although, we could probably get into quite a bit of trouble quickly if we’re not careful.
“Sorry. I’ll try to behave myself.” I gripe, my mouth turning down at the corners. I really am sad.
“That was a little more explosive than I had planned on,” he says. “I wasn’t prepared for your…” his eyes drift back down towards my boobs. “oh, crap.” He closes his eyes, clenching them tight. His face, once again, tipped towards the ceiling. “Baseball, blood, old lady vaginas, prostate exams, infected moles.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, a little horrified. “Old lady vaginas?”
He bursts out laughing again before slapping a hand over his mouth. “I had to think of things that are in no possible way arousing.” His laughter dies off.
He turns to look at me, his face serious.
“Finley, your body almost stopped my heart,” he says earnestly.
“I really want to make out with you right now.” I hold up a hand as his eyes light up.
“But, since we’re trying to cool down, and rejoin the others, that can’t happen. You can’t even think about it.” I warn him. “Because then I’ll think about you thinking about it, and then I’ll want to do it, which will lead to me wanting to do more things. Which we also can’t do. But, holy crap on a cracker, Hunter, I really want to jump you right now.” I can feel the heat flashing through my body. Flashes of us together flicker through my brain like an old motion picture.
“Crap, crap, crap.” It’s my turn to inspect my ceiling.
“I feel the same way, about all of it. But, you know, I want to jump your body, not mine,” he clarifies.
“Otherwise, I would just be superfluous. And that’s just not fun for anyone but you.” I fire back at him, a smile tugging on my lips.
He takes a step back, shaking his head, hands on his hips. “Okay, I can’t think of anything that won’t lead us back down that path we can’t go down.”
He gives my mouth one last longing glance, before ripping the door open and stalking through it purposefully.
I follow him out. And yes, my gaze is glued to his butt.
I could eat that man alive.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Feeling okay, Hunter? You’re looking a little flushed.” Josh’s teasing whisper floats down the hall.
“Feeling good, Josh. You’re so kind to inquire.” Hunter replies piously.
I smother a chuckle as I walk the short distance to get back into the kitchen, falling in behind Mom’s shorter frame.
“Joshua, stop picking on the man.” Mom shakes her finger at Josh.
I stick my tongue out at Josh and narrow my eyes when he opens his mouth again. The devilish look glinting in Josh’s eyes lets me know he’s got another comment locked and loaded.
Glaring at him, I wrap my arms around my mom’s shoulders from behind her, kissing the back of her head.
“Thanks for looking out, Mom,” I tell her quietly.
“Of course, dear. I plan to become Hunter’s favorite superhero, too,” she says just as quietly. “I very much like your young man.” She gives my closest arm a quick peck.
“I’m pretty sure you’re more than half way there,” I reply, a snicker escaping.
“Good. I’d hate to fail.” She moves to step out of my arms. She turns towards me. “I’ve ordered some food. I need to go pick it up shortly. Want to help me?” she asks, her eyebrows raised, a glint in her eyes.
“Sure. I’ll let Hunter know.” I step around her.
“Hunter, I need to whisper in your ear.” I raise my voice marginally, not loud enough to wake the sleeping princes on the couch.
He flashes me his tiny dimple, and I have to remind myself that we do not have privacy. He walks up to me, invading my personal space, putting his arms around my waist.
Without thinking about it, my arms float up to land on his shoulders. He tips his head down for me to reach his ear.
Because I can, and more importantly because no one can see what I’m doing, I nip his ear lobe.
His reaction is instantaneous: his arms turn to steel cables behind my back, his hips crash into my own, and his breath catches in his throat.
“To steal your phrase, holy crap on a cracker, Finley.” His low groan is muffled by my hair.
I hear the gravel in my own tone, “I couldn’t help myself; I had to taste you,” I confess as I lave the skin with my tongue, kissing it one more time.
His fingers feel like they could leave bruises, he’s holding me so tightly.
I don’t mind one bit.
Pulling back just enough so that temptation is out of striking distance, I let him know that I’m going to go pick up dinner with mom.
“You revved me up, only to leave me with all of the males in your family?” He’s shocked, and a little sulky.
My giggles rush out, moving the hair falling over his ears. “I’m sorry.” No, I’m not.
“No, you’re not.” He must be able to read my mind. “But, I will make sure you get yours later...or not.” His warning is wrapped in sexy, dipped in sultry, and pulls at the deepest parts of me.
“Finley, we need to leave.” Mom calls at the door, interrupting our conversation from getting too carried away.
I’m not sure if I’m upset by that or not.
“Coming,” I say over Hunter’s shoulder.
“Not yet, you’re not,” Hunter growls his promise in my ear.
My burst of laughter breaks into the silence like a rock concert on full blast.
I’m surrounded by shushing noises, but I don’t get my hand over my mouth fast enough.
“Way to go, Finley,” Josh calls, accusation thick in his tone. He’s pointing towards the boys who are struggling to surface from their grief-induced nap.
Nice, Finley. Nice job waking up the traumatized men.
“Sorry, boys. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” I tell them both, moving so I can see them. Their working to disentangle from each other.
“It’s my fault,” Hunter admits from just behind me. His tone is sincere and full of regret.
“’s all good, you two. We probably needed to get up anyways. How long have we been sleeping?” Brent sits up, attempting to wipe the exhaustion from his face.
“Not long, son. The girls are going to go get some food. So, you both have some time to get your bearings again. We’ll eat as soon as they get back. I’m sure we men can get the table set before that happens,” Mark volunteers everyone.
I would love to stick around and see how six oversized men are going to fit in the small space I have available.
“I’ve got some table leaves in the hall closet. Dad can show you where. Feel free to pull chairs from wherever you can find them,” I tell them all right before I close the door to follow Mom out to the car.
It looks like I’m having quite the party by the sheer number of cars parked outside my house. Although, the only one I’m really in the mood to party with right now is Hunter.
Considering we both said we wanted to take things slowly, I think we’re going to have to pump the brakes. Too many other things are getting pumped right now.
I snicker. Sometimes I really crack myself up.
“What’s so funny, nugget?” Mom asks, her attention focused on the slow traffic.
“Just being inappropriate. You know? Like always,” I tell her truthfully.
“Thinking about how inappropriate you were being with Hunter before I broke you two up?” she asks pointedly.
I feel t
he heated flush of embarrassment flare over my face, like I’ve ducked down and opened the oven door, checking on food.
“I have no idea what you mean.” My innocent voice only gets a snort of derision.
“Don’t pull that crap with me, young lady. I might be old, but I’m certainly not dead…nor blind,” she says dryly.
“It just happened?” I try, although she never bought that excuse when I was younger. I expect her snort in three…two…
Her snort fills the car, followed by derisive laughter. “Would you also like to sell me a bridge you happen to have?” I could swim in Mom’s sarcasm.
“Now that you mention it…” I quip.
Her laughter shimmers in the air, I’ve always imagined that I could reach out and touch it. My mom’s not necessarily a delicate, snooty woman, but she’s also not down and dirty either. She matches her surroundings. Needless to say, when she’s with me, she’s certainly closer to the down and dirty side of femininity.
“Does this mean that you are serious about Hunter?” she asks, the laughter floating away on a breeze.
“Yes, I am.” I nod. “Very serious, actually.”
“I’m assuming he feels the same way?” She cautiously asks. She’s obviously waiting to hear my answer before giving away her thoughts.
“Oh yeah. We’ve already discussed that this is different, and more important, than either of us had expected.”
The whole idea has my breath backing up in my throat. I’m pretty sure I’ve found The One. But I also don’t want to make any decisions that I’ll regret later. I mentally start my ‘we’re taking it slow’ speech once more.
It doesn’t do a lot to slow my headlong drop.
“I’m so happy for you, nugget.” Her joy shines through her voice. “I noticed that you interacted with him differently than anyone else I’ve seen you with. Even the boys.” I can tell she’s digging for more information.
“Yeah.” I throw her a bone. I’ve missed my mom-and-me time since she’s been in the tropics. “Something about the way he looks at me; it’s as if he sees into me, instead of just seeing what everyone else does.” I wait a beat. “Does that make sense?”
“Yes, nugget, it does. I have that with your dad.” Her voice sounds a little teary.
“If Hunter turns out to be even a tenth of the man Dad is, I’ll marry him tomorrow.” I state honestly.
“Well, I wouldn’t advocate for that, but I definitely know what you mean.” She pats my leg.
“Why wouldn’t you advocate for that?” I’m curious to see why not.
“Nugget, you barely know the man, and most of that time has been in or around a crisis of some kind. While I think he is a good man, I hope you wait, so you can get to know each other during the normal and boring times. Marriage is so much more, and less, than Hollywood and your books makes it out to be.”
“Most of your married time will be routine, mundane, and, dare I say, boring. Although I don’t mean that you will be bored with each other. But it’s important to know that you can get along when no one is in danger, and when the risk is low. Learning about each other during the slow and easy times helps when you have to weather the hard and fast times,” she says earnestly.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you talk about marriage like this before, Mom.”
“Probably because I haven’t seen you react to any man like I’ve seen you react with Hunter.”
“I do understand what you’re saying though. We’ve both said that we want to take everything slow, and make sure we’re not just rushing into anything because we’re attracted to each other,” I admit to her. I find myself wanting her approval more than I thought I would.
“Good. That’s an excellent first step. I know you have your own life and your own values, but I want to say that I think it’s always best policy to wait for sex until after you’re married.” It looks like she’s wearing extra blusher, her cheeks are so red.
I laugh. “I know, Mom. I’m not a casual sex kind of person.” I try to reassure her.
The colors flares brighter in her cheeks. “I know you’re not, nugget. But if you are this serious about Hunter now, before you’ve gotten to know more about him, how quickly do you think you would be able to hold back on sex?”
“I have no idea, Mom. Are we really having a sex talk right now?” I laugh uncomfortably. Not exactly the conversation I thought we would be having on our way to go get lunch.
“Yes,” she nods her head definitively. Her eyes, if I could see them, would probably be blazing with the fierce love of a momma bear protecting her young. “Because, again, I’ve seen how you are with him. I just want you to be as safe, happy, loved, and secure as you can be, nugget. That’s all this is. You’re a grown, responsible woman. You can obviously make your own decisions. I just want you to know that I love you so very much.” She looks at me this time, catching my gaze with her own. Her own is shimmering with tears.
“I know you do, Mom. I love you, too.” I reach out and grab her hand with mine. “I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind. I promise,” I tell her. I don’t want to screw anything up with Hunter.
I have so many friends and acquaintances who are already on their second, third, and even fourth marriages. I’m getting married once, if I can help it. And if holding off on sex will cement the foundational relationship even more, I’m willing to give it a shot.
I might have to invest in a chastity belt, but I’ll certainly give it a shot.
Mom and I make it back home, food in tow. She ordered from the delicious wood fired oven pizza place that I love, Il Vicino’s. The smell of the food in the car is making me ravenous, so when we pull up back at my house, I jump out of the car, my share of the bags in hand.
Racing to the door, I didn’t even have to stop to open it. Apparently, the menfolk are just as hungry as I am. I quickstep through the door, sliding past Brian, the helpful doorman.
His arm snags around my waist, pulling me close for a quick peck on the cheek.
“Thank goodness you got back when you did. I was about to cook Hunter over an open flame,” he jokes.
“I think he tastes good.” My brain is on food, not thinking about my words.
Brian’s head tips back, his laughter exploding out of his chest.
“I immediately regret saying that,” I tell him bashfully.
I rush into the kitchen, looking for the tasty Hunter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I tell him, my eyes wide.
“Whatever for?” he asks, perplexed.
“She says you taste good.” Brian roars from the front door, helping my mom through the door.
Hunter’s eyes widen, before a sly smile tugs at his mouth. “The feeling’s mutual,” he says just as loudly.
My arms still full of food bags, I just let my forehead fall forward against his chest. I really need to get a better brain-mouth filter. My brain and mouth are typically getting me in trouble. I’m just glad that Hunter’s not embarrassed.
Hunter’s chest is still rumbling under my forehead, his laughter shaking his chest. “It doesn’t bother me in the least. Although, your dad might have something to say about all of it,” he tells me quietly.
My heartfelt, despairing groan fills the air.
“Nugget…” Dad’s got his I’m-not-angry-I’m-disappointed voice going strong.
I lift my head, knowing it’s just easier to get the lecture over with as soon as it starts, instead of letting it drag on and on. I steel myself for whatever Dad has in store for his lecture.
I turn to find Dad amongst all of the guys. He’s standing just inside the division between kitchen and dining room. His arms are crossed over his chest, and a huge smile is trying to win control of his face.
“Maybe you could leave your tasting party for later, hmm?” he manages to get out before joining Brian in loud, deafening caws of laughter. “We’re all a bit famished…for actual food.”
“I would, if you guys would ever leave,” I taunt th
em all. Hunter’s shocked expression turns into a smoky look.
“Finley Marie!” Mom scolds me from the far side of the dining room. Her startled gaze flips between Hunter and me, before settling on me with a stink eye.
“Yes, mother?” I ask innocently.
“For shame.” She shakes her finger at me.
“Consider me shamed, Mom.” I hang my head—to hide my smile.
Her loud snort has me struggling to swallow my laughter once again.
“Yes, yes, Finley is a shameful little girl. Can we eat please? I’m wasting away.” Brian’s whining puts an end to our conversation and pulls everyone to the ready table.
Mom and I get the food out of the containers, putting salads and pizza in the middle to share family-style.
We all settle around the table, Mom next to Dad, and Hunter by me. The Hastings men fill up the other side of the table.
Dad clears his throat and says prayer.
Brian, Brent, and Josh howl out a cheer that they finally get to stuff their faces, diving in to get their plates full of food.
The rest of us, not wanting to risk life and limb over pizza, wait until they’ve finished scavenging.
Everyone has had a full plate, and a full belly, by the time we’re done. We’ve congregated back in the living room, sprawled across couches, loveseats, and even the floor in Brian’s case.
“What are we doing to do about Finley’s safety?” Dad asks solemnly. A return to the seriousness is a sharp contrast to the jovial atmosphere of dinner.
“Well, the police know she was involved in something again. I’m not sure what else we can do. Unless someone wants to hire around-the-clock personal protection, which I’m sure would drive Fin crazy,” Josh says. Right before he wraps me in a loose headlock.
“Yeah…no. I’m good without Bruno following me everywhere.” My voice is muffled against Josh’s body.
“What are we going to do if it gets back to DHS that she’s been targeted?” Hunter asks, his hand warm around mine. Not helping me get out of the headlock, but not making it worse.
