by Laura Ward
“What are you doing here?” My fingers tangled in front of me. God, Daisy. Calm down.
He stood so close that his scent surrounded me. He smelled faintly of masculine cologne mixed with soap and leather. Leaning forward his lips brushed my cheek and I stopped breathing.
Oh, God. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.
He didn’t kiss me.
I blew out a breath, trying to remind my brain to get with the program.
“Thought you might like some company. Rough days suck.” Jon wrapped an arm around my shoulder and hugged me to his side as we walked toward the store.
I nodded, blinking back hot tears. Why am I crying? Belinda and Marnie no longer made me sad. But Jon caring about me? Thinking about me? That caused a torrent of emotions to bubble to the surface.
Jon stopped walking. He faced me, lifting his sunglasses on top of his head. His warm brown eyes sparkled in the late day sun. “You’re better than them, Daisy. Never forget that. You’re perfect just as you are. Five more days, Sunshine. You can make it five more days.”
Sunshine? A nickname? Swoon.
I wiped my tears away furiously. “Of course. Five more days.”
Jon wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I hesitated for a second. Should I hug him back? Could I hold him close and not let my body push for more?
Whatever.
I stopped second-guessing myself and went for it. I pulled myself into Jon’s embrace, burying my face in his neck and breathed him in. And just like that, everything I’d been feeling after the run-in with Belinda and Marnie melted away. I could get through five more years of high school with a daily dose of this.
Jon’s body became rigid, and he drew back quickly. I stumbled with him, and he held my forearm to keep me balanced.
“Sorry.” He slipped his glasses back on his face looking to his left and right. “Should we start shopping?”
My stomach dropped. Too much, Daisy. Too damn much.
“’Course. Let’s go pick some asparagus, shall we?”
I turned my attention toward my favorite hobby and forced myself to stop focusing on my favorite guy.
Good luck, asparagus. You’ve got your work cut out for you tonight.
Chapter Two
Jon
HER HOMEMADE NOODLES were my favorite. Not because they were melt in your mouth tasty, which they were. No, they were my favorite because to make them, Daisy had to do what she was doing now.
I leaned my hip against the kitchen counter and watched her work. Daisy kneaded the dough into a ball, working and re-working the lump until it was smooth. As she squeezed and formed and pressed the mixture, her ass shook in front of me. My dick swelled at the sight.
I was not a fan of skinny chicks. Never had been. I liked food too much to ever date a girl who felt otherwise. I liked a girl who would eat with me, and enjoyed her meal, and then didn’t bruise me with her bony elbows or knees when we hooked up after.
Daisy’s body was heaven. Curvy, with a round ass and more than ample breasts. God, all I wanted was to bury my face in her chest.
But that would never happen for several reasons.
First, my best friend was her older brother. I recently pissed Dean off when I interfered with his relationship and I would not piss him off again. I already had a punch coming—which I absolutely deserved—but I didn’t have a death wish to add to the top of that.
Second, my Sunshine wasn’t legal yet. In a few months she’d turn eighteen, but until then I was wrong to allow myself to lust after her. Couldn’t help it, though. She was hot beyond her years. And not just her body. She was smart, funny, and kind—the entire package. Fuck, I hadn’t met a girl in college that could compare to her.
Finally, and most importantly, I liked Daisy. I mean, she’d become my friend. I’d never had a girl as a friend, and it was freaking cool. I would not fuck it up by hitting on her. She needed to be around someone she could trust right now, and I wanted to be that guy for her.
Daisy grunted and groaned as she rolled the dough until it submitted to her and formed a rectangle. Holy shit, she sounded like I’d imagined she would when she was having sex.
I turned around and adjusted myself. Stop picturing it. Stop picturing her underneath you, asshole. I blew out a long breath and then faced her. She cut the dough into thin strips with precision. Focus on the knife, jerkwad. She’d cut you if she knew what you had just been thinking.
“Whew,” Daisy breathed out as she dumped the noodles into a huge pan of boiling water. Her hand moved across her forehead, and she brushed away a piece of her long blonde hair, leaving behind a streak of flour just above her right eyebrow. “Sorry, that took so long. My arms were burning from the constant rolling.” Her hands braced on the counter behind her, causing her breasts to jut out. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning. “Guess I’m out of shape, huh?”
I took two cautious steps forward. Careful. Not too close. Watch your hands. Don’t touch any place you want to but shouldn’t. “You’re in ideal shape, Sunshine.” I used my thumb to wipe the flour off her forehead, and Daisy’s blue eyes flashed with…what? Heat was my first thought, but there was no way. She didn’t want me the same way I wanted her. I was pretty damn sure of that.
Daisy was too sweet. She had no clue what she did to me. Just this afternoon at the grocery store, she hugged me close, and when her face got close to my neck, I had to jump back, or she would have felt my dick right in her belly. I wouldn’t scare her. I wouldn’t make her feel like those asshole guys she always told me about who yelled at her on the street or posted comments on her social media pages.
I would be her motherfucking friend.
Even if I had blue balls for the rest of my life because of it.
“Mmmm,” Daisy closed her eyes and smiled. “Glad you think so.” When she opened them, they focused on my mouth. Seemingly on reflex, she licked her lips. “Are you hungry?”
Yeah, I’m hungry all right.
I shifted forward, close enough to breathe in her sweet sugary scent, and my brain screamed: Warning! Danger! Danger zone! I angled back and gave Daisy a lazy grin, hoping she wouldn’t ask specifically what I hungered for these days. “Always.”
Daisy opened her mouth but quickly clamped it shut, moving to the refrigerator as the kitchen door opened, banging against the wall.
“Daisy! It smells fuckin’ fantastic in here.” Damian announced as he and Delilah walked through the door, throwing their backpacks to the ground and clambering to get close to the stove. “Hey, Jon!”
Delilah waved at me before lifting the top off the large silver pot simmering on the stove and inhaling deeply. “I love this sauce.”
Daisy shooed them out of the way, dumping a pot of fresh noodles into a large colander in the sink. “Dinner’s in ten. Wash up and let Ma and Dad know, k?”
Damian saluted, and Delilah gave a thumbs up as they exited the kitchen walking down the hallway toward the family room.
The Goldsmith family was large. Poor Mrs. G liked to remind us that she got pregnant with Daisy when Damian was only a month old. That made Damian and Daisy Irish twins. Coupled with the fact that she was already saddled with a four-year-old terror named Dean and actual twins, two-year-old Devin and Dianna, we’re all shocked she survived trying to manage the brood. Not to mention that Delilah made an appearance just two years later.
All the Goldsmith kids but Daisy were loud, athletic, loud, and full of personality. Did I mention loud? With Dean in Chicago and Devin and Dianna spending the summer at Purdue, the house was somewhat quiet for the Goldsmiths. I’d hung here since I was six years old, and at times it was the most chaotic place I had ever known. But it was also the closest thing to a real home I had ever experienced.
Being an only child with a single mom wasn’t uncommon. But my mom wasn’t like other mothers. She wasn’t… maternal. Coming here and being around Mr. and Mrs. G was the only example I had of a loving family throughout my life.
; Daisy spooned some red sauce onto a spoon and blew across the top. “Taste?” she asked, a flush creeping across her cheeks.
I nodded and leaned closer to her. She stepped forward and brought the spoon to my lips. I opened, and she tipped the warm, rich, salted tomato sauce into my mouth. I swallowed with a groan. “Daisy, you’re amazing. That tastes so freaking good.”
Her eyes danced with happiness. “I’m glad you like it.”
We stood too close. Her family would be in the room in just a minute, but I didn’t move back. Not yet. “Your noodles and chicken cacciatore are one of my favorite meals. You know that?”
She licked her lips again, and I swear to Christ a slow fire kindled in my body. “I know.” Her grin was flirty, but as soon as we registered the sound of footsteps, we broke apart. Daisy turned to the stove, stirring her sauce. I picked up a basket of rolls, holding it in front of me like a complete doofus.
“I’m starving!” Dale Goldsmith, father of the crazy brood, boomed as he walked into the kitchen, sporting the tan uniform shirt he wore each day to the factory where he worked. Many nights while watching television at the Goldsmiths, I watched Mrs. G sewing name badges on her husband’s shirts and jackets. Dale wasn’t a man of fashion, so if he wasn’t in his robe, he was usually in his uniform shirt and jeans.
He lifted Daisy, swinging her around in a circle. “Thank you for spoiling us, my Flower.”
Dale, or Big Kahuna as he called himself, looked like a heavier set version of his sons. He was tall, probably verging on six foot, five inches. He had gray hair, but still looked as strong as an ox. Dean always bragged that his clan came from early English farmers, thus explaining their height and general scrappiness.
Daisy giggled as her Dad set her feet back down on the ground. She picked up a large dish of chicken and sauce and positioned it in the center of the table. “My pleasure.”
Dorothy Goldsmith walked into the kitchen and picked up the asparagus and hollandaise sauce, placing it on the table. Just watching how much butter Daisy added to the rich concoction as she made it almost caused my arteries to clog. Having to run longer and lift a lot harder tomorrow to make up for the decadence was totally worth it, though.
“I’m so glad you could join us, Jon.” Dorothy passed the water pitcher to Delilah, and she filled glasses as Damian placed plates and utensils on the table. “Have you started working at Carmichael and Krebs, yet?”
I grabbed the noodles and then sat down next to Daisy. My thigh pressed against hers and I thought I felt her tremble at the contact, but I couldn’t be sure. “I start on Monday, Mrs. G. I’m looking forward to clerking for the firm before law school. Plus, the extra money will come in handy.”
“Smart thinking,” Dale said as he nodded, adding a mound of noodles to his plate, then waved the serving utensil at his children. “Damian? Daisy? Do you have jobs in mind for this summer? I expect you both to have something lined up before you graduate next week.”
“I have regular babysitting jobs all set up, Dad,” Delilah chimed in.
Damian coughed “Kiss-ass” into his fist, and Mrs. G slapped him playfully upside the head in response.
Daisy and I laughed.
“Well,” Daisy wiped her mouth with her napkin. “I applied two weeks ago for a position at Helping Hands of Indianapolis.”
I put my fork down and waited. Daisy hadn’t told me this, and oddly enough, I was mad that she had never mentioned it. Since I’d come home from college, we spoke or texted each other almost every day.
She shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. Which to her it might not be. To me, it was a huge deal. “I talked to Grace, and she suggested it. Amy and some friends with developmental disabilities are living in a group home together that is owned by Helping Hands. They’re looking for qualified adults to cook, disperse medicine, and drive them to activities or their jobs.”
Grace and Dean were recently engaged, but back at IU Grace had befriended Amy, a young woman born with Down syndrome who also had a sharp tongue and a wicked sense of humor. Dean and I knew Amy from high school, although back then we hadn’t been friends.
Dorothy frowned. “You aren’t living there, Daisy. You’re too young to move out.”
Dale pointed his fork at Daisy, a bit of chicken dangling from the end. “Exactly. And you won’t even be a legal adult by the time you’d start.”
Daisy frowned, looking down at her plate. I pressed my leg closer to hers, to show support the only way I could without anyone noticing. She looked at me sideways, and I nodded, encouraging her to speak up for herself. Daisy was the quietest of the clan, but she had a voice, and we all wanted her to share it.
“Grace and Amy’s mom wrote letters of recommendation for me. The agency is willing to hire me on the condition I won’t start working with clients until I turn eighteen. In the meantime, I’ll attend training and help with paperwork in the office. It’s a great opportunity, Dad.”
She lifted her water glass and sipped, her hand shaking slightly. I looked around the table, but each person was focused on their plate, missing Daisy’s physical reaction. My heart beat faster as I watched her, the desire to protect her, to eliminate any nerves she had, was overpowering. Crippling, even.
Given the Big Kahuna’s stern, unyielding expression, Daisy must have sensed she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, so she diverted back to Mrs. G’s earlier question. “No, Mom, I don’t need to live there. Amy and her friends are high functioning and sleep alone in their house. I would come in the morning and help with breakfast, supervise their cleaning and laundry, and on weekends I could organize activities to keep everyone busy. I think it will be a great job until I leave for culinary school.” Daisy took a bite of food and chewed, seeming to wait for the barrage of questions to continue.
Dale and Dorothy looked at each other for a long minute. I held my breath on Daisy’s behalf. Finally, they gave one another a slight nod.
“Sounds like a plan,” her father said. “Except for culinary school. We aren’t ready to discuss that.” Daisy looked down at her dinner as her father turned to his son. “Damian, are you this organized?”
Damian chuckled. “No one is as organized as Daisy. But I applied to a bunch of places. I’ll save up some dough from whatever job I get before football camp in August. Go Hoosiers!” Damian yelled as he and I bumped fists.
“The Goldsmith tradition continues.” Lifting my chin to Damian, his face grew serious.
“I’ll do him proud, man.” Damian idolized Dean, and the fact that he could follow in Dean’s footsteps and attend IU on a full football scholarship was amazing.
Dinner conversation turned to professional football, with Damian, Dale and I debating the strengths and weaknesses of the Colts’ and Bears’ upcoming rosters. When everyone was finished eating, we cleared our plates, and Dorothy tagged Damian and Delilah with the task of washing the dishes.
“This is wrong. Daisy can cook, but she makes a huge ass mess,” Delilah grumbled, rolling up her sleeves and filling the sink with warm water.
Dale tossed Damian a towel. “Pipe down and clean up. I’ll be spot checking after I read the paper.” He shook my hand on his way to the family room.
“See you tomorrow, Jon?” Dorothy asked, propping a laundry basket on her hip.
My eyes pinched, and I looked at the floor. Was it too much? Dean was gone—were they tired of me hanging around? I just didn’t want to go home until I had to. Fucking twenty-two-year-old man and I still felt like a pussy, unsure if I was annoying them or if I was wanted hanging around.
Daisy elbowed me, and I looked up into her soft blue eyes. “What do you think? Risotto and pork tenderloin? Want to help me shop after school?”
My mouth twisted to hide my grin.
Dorothy laughed. “I think he likes that, Daisy. And we love having you here, dear.” Dorothy waved as she headed into the laundry room.
I tilted my head toward the kitchen door that lead outside, wanting Daisy to come wit
h me, but not wanting to draw attention from the two jokesters at the sink.
She followed me onto the porch. “You okay?” she said as she rested her hand on my forearm. My muscles tightened reflexively, and she dropped her hand. I felt the loss of her touch immediately. Damn, I wish I could control my reactions around her.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, sure. I-umm, are you okay with me hanging out with you? I know I drive Grace and Dean nuts, but I actually care if I annoy you.” My stomach flipped. What would I do if she told me she didn’t want me around as much? Who was I kidding? I knew exactly what I’d do. Go through the worst form of withdrawal because there was no cure. I’d spend most of my days wondering where she was. Who she was with. If she was okay. If she was happy.
Daisy giggled, and the light sound took my breath away. “Jon, you’re…” Her voice trailed off, and I waited. She smiled and continued. “I feel like the one that has to check in with you. Am I too much? The annoying little sister? It’s just you’re my only friend other than my family.” Her smile faded, and she looked away.
Guiding her chin with my hand, I turned her back to face me. “You’re my friend too, Sunshine. The first girl who’s ever been my friend. I love being with you.”
Her eyes glistened, and I dragged her to me, hugging her tightly. She paused and then wrapped her arms around me, hugging me back. Relief filled me, just knowing she wanted me around. I held her for longer than I should, and when I pulled away, Daisy’s face was soft and relaxed.
Jesus, she was beautiful. Her eyes sparkled and her pink lips lifted at the corners. The blush on her cheeks traveled down her neck. After the day she had, knowing I could help her relax made me proud. Whatever desire I needed to suppress to be friends with her, I would, just to see that face. The fact was, we were helping each other, and that felt good. It felt right.
