Ask For It

by Selena Blake

  “Not you too. Gretchen’s our resident hopeless romantic.”

  JJ threw her sponge at her friend. “Like you’re one to talk Miss I’ve-used-up-all-my-minutes-talking-to-Adam.”

  The truth was, she absolutely was feeling romantic and wistful. After Trevor had told her about Stephanie and given her a pair of the most gorgeous shoes ever, they’d made slow, sweet love. Everything about that night had been different. More tender.

  Cindy handed the sponge back, glowing a little. She did that whenever they started talking about Adam.

  “Think he’d ever move out here?” JJ dared to ask.

  Cindy’s lips twisted. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if we’re at that point yet. All I know is long distance sucks and phone sex is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Then you’re not doin’ it right,” Beau drawled from the doorway.

  She and Cindy gasped and threw their sponges at him. Chuckling, he ducked the onslaught of cleaning supplies. “These boxes ready to go down?” he asked, nodding to the stack in the doorway.

  “Yep.”

  “Hey honey, we’re not moving the washer and dryer, right?” Trevor called, coming through the front door.

  “Nope. Sold them with the condo.”

  He nodded and helped Beau load the boxes onto the dolly. She smiled at the two men, thinking they could have been brothers. Both tall, bronzed, and golden blond…if they went out in public she was pretty sure women all over the south would swoon. Whereas her brothers had dark hair and blue eyes, Beau took after JJ’s aunt, right down to his light brown eyes.

  He was cocky and laid-back at the same time, which explained why he and Trevor had hit it off like long time buddies.

  “Fridge is done,” Cindy declared and JJ breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I did the oven the other day,” she said. Mostly because she’d made a frozen pizza that decided to melt all over the place.

  “So that just leaves mopping. Let’s wait until after we eat to do that.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The living room was empty, save for the pile of boxes and there was a cooler of drinks in the adjoining dining area. She’d vacuum last.

  There was a knock at the door and she peeked her head into the hall. The pizza delivery guy hovered on her doorstep, arms laden.

  “Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching for her purse.

  “The guy downstairs already paid.”

  Trevor… Somehow she knew he was the one who’d paid for the pizzas. He was so good to her.

  “Great.” She took the steaming pile of boxes. “Thanks again.”

  No sooner had the delivery man left than the five men strode through the doors. Yep. Typical males.

  Thankfully she’d remembered to keep the paper plates and napkins out. Pizza in hand, they sat down on the living room floor and used the boxes as impromptu tables. The boys told jokes and everyone laughed. They all shared war stories from past moves. Except for Trevor. The lucky duck had movers the two times he’d ever moved. Baby recalled the time JJ had called, freaking out over the dead rat.

  “You guys like that story too much,” JJ said.

  “It’s pretty funny,” Trevor chimed in, grinning over at her.

  “You four need to remember that I grew up with you and know all your secrets,” she warned her brothers and cousin. “And you three…I’ve known you since college.”

  Cindy stuck out her tongue. “I have no secrets left,” she said in a seductive I-could-have-been-a-Victoria’s-Secret-model sort of way.

  Everyone laughed because though she wrote steamy sex and looked like a bombshell, she wasn’t exactly promiscuous. No. That was Baby’s department.

  JJ looked over at Greg and saw him staring at Baby.

  Ah hah! Feeling sneaky she pulled out her cell phone and typed in a text message.

  YOU’RE STARING.

  His pocket buzzed and he retrieved his phone. She knew the instant he read her message. His gaze shot to hers and she gave him a warm smile.

  Frowning, he typed something back.

  WHAT OF IT?

  She raised an eyebrow as she typed back.

  NOT A THING, DEAR BROTHER. YOU TWO WOULD MAKE A CUTE COUPLE. BUT BE CAREFUL, BABY’S NOT READY FOR TILL-DEATH-DO-YOU-PART.

  He smirked.

  LIKE I AM?

  JJ was starting to think she was ready. Heck, just because she loved sports didn’t mean she hadn’t been daydreaming about her wedding for…well, ever. One of her earliest memories was playing wedding with Barbie and Ken after her mother and Ron Fairchild had walked down the aisle. She’d been a little obsessed with weddings after that.

  Not because her parents’ big day had been elaborate, but because her mom had looked like an angel in her white silk dress. They’d gone small but traditional. Her brothers had stood with their father and she with her mother. And before God and a little group of friends and family they’d vowed to love each other and make a family together.

  “Why are you crying?” Trevor whispered in her ear.

  “Am I?” She wiped a hand under her eyes and felt the moisture. “Just thinking about my mom.”

  He squeezed her shoulder.

  “How about a toast,” Greg called, lifting his can of Coke Zero. “To JJ. My partner in crime. Talented author, designer and kick ass home stager.”

  She liked how he stressed the kick ass part.

  “Here, here,” everyone called, saluted and clinked their cans together.

  “To new friends, old friends, and the best family a girl could have ever asked for,” JJ said, lifting her own can.

  “And to quick sales and easy moves,” Cindy added.

  “I second that,” she said. Easy moves indeed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  It was the last Thursday in November and JJ couldn’t figure out where the last three months had gone. Autumn had positively flown by. She was semi settled in her new loft, as much as one could be with half a bathroom and a nonworking kitchen. Thanks to online shopping she already had several items knocked off her Christmas list, but she was still searching for the perfect thing for Trevor.

  She was hunched over, basting the turkey, when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ve got it,” her dad called.

  “That should be Trevor and his family,” she called back. Her brother’s had already arrived which just left the Wyatts.

  Ever since her mother had died, JJ had taken it upon herself to ‘do’ Thanksgiving. But following in her mother’s footsteps meant a heck of a lot of work.

  She usually lost count of all the side dishes she made. In fact, she started cooking on Tuesday. Since she was still brushing her teeth in the kitchen at the loft, she’d been spending more and more time at her parents’ house. Even though the appliances were a little dated, they were installed and actually worked. Which was more than she could say for the empty spaces waiting for a refrigerator and dishwasher in her new place.

  Voices echoed through the entry way and she recognized two in particular. Trevor and his mom.

  She smiled and shut the oven. A football went sailing by the window over the kitchen sink and she saw a flurry of bodies diving after it.

  “Julia, you’ve out done yourself,” Patricia Wyatt said as JJ started for the front door. “This place smells fabulous.”

  Her father hung Patricia’s coat in the entry closet, beaming as she oohed and ahhed at being back in the south. She went on about the accents, the chivalry and how welcoming the gas station attendant had been.

  “Our JJ takes after her momma. My Leigh Ann was a great cook.” Her dad patted his belly which was far too trim since her mother died.

  JJ brushed off the compliments and gave everyone a hug. “I’m so glad you guys could make it.”

  Trevor was the last in line. “Got a hug for me?” he murmured, his eyes alight with mischief.

  “You betcha, handsome.” She pecked him on the lips for good measure.

&n
bsp; “What can I help with?”

  “Not a thing, Mrs. Wyatt. Come on out back. We’ve got an early football game going. And Trevor,” her father said over everyone’s head. “I took your advice about that outdoor TV.”

  JJ heard Trevor’s mom ask them to call her Patricia as they headed toward the back of the house.

  “They had a ball putting that thing up,” JJ whispered to Trevor. “Who knew there were so many kinds of drill bits at Home Depot. Go fawn over it and act impressed,” she added, just loud enough for her dad to hear.

  Chuckling, her father led them through the French doors and onto the back patio.

  “I’m amazed you can still enjoy the outdoors,” JJ heard Patricia say. “It’s such a toss-up in New York. Either cold or rainy. Sometimes both.”

  JJ was mashing potatoes when she felt Trevor’s hands slide over her shoulders.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

  She sighed and leaned back against him. Everything in her softened. “I’ve missed you too.”

  They hadn’t seen each other since he’d helped her move earlier in the month. He’d been busy with appearances and endorsement deals and John had kept her busy with work. Any day now she expected her first round of edits to arrive from Scott Spangler.

  Cindy was right. The long distance thing was getting old. She’d never thought of herself as a particularly physical person, but there was no denying that she craved being near Trevor. Most days she felt restless, almost unhinged. Hearing his voice on the phone soothed her. Seeing him on video chat was nice too.

  But there was something about being in the same room with him. Feeling his energy. Just knowing he was so close. Being able to reach out and touch him whenever she wanted. It went beyond the sexual.

  “Let me help with that…”

  “You know how to mash potatoes?”

  He laughed and took the masher from her. With a quirked up eyebrow, he bumped her out of the way gently with his hip. “How hard could it be? Besides, I’ve gotta make myself useful somehow.”

  As he mashed, very well by the look of it, she popped the rolls into the oven to warm up.

  “You’re very useful,” she murmured, hugging him from behind and placing a kiss in the center of his back. “And have I mentioned how sexy you look in a sweater?” she asked softly.

  “Stop that woman or I’m gonna make a mess.”

  Laughing softly to herself she turned and glanced around the room. After retrieving her notebook, she marked off mashed potatoes and rolls.

  “You can go out back and play, you know. You won’t hurt my feelings.” She cut chunks of butter and tossed them into the potatoes.

  “Knee’s a little stiff today,” he muttered, as if it pained him to admit it. She supposed it was. Men, especially tough alpha men, didn’t like admitting to pain or injury.

  Her first instinct was to offer him an aspirin or order him off the bum leg. But she bit the words back. Her mother had hovered…often too much. She’d made a concentrated effort to be caring without suffocating.

  “Besides,” he added, “I want to be with you.”

  And just like that, she lost the last piece of her heart to the sinfully handsome wide receiver.

  Ron Fairchild loved having all his kids under his roof and he used any excuse to get them together. He and Leigh Ann had always wanted a big loud family, full of love and laughter. Today, there were three extra men at his table, cutting up and eating like food was going extinct. She would have loved it.

  She would have loved Trevor Wyatt. He had no doubt about that. Right now, the big man three seats down had his head bent toward JJ, listening to something she was saying. He looked at her like she was the sun and the moon and the stars.

  Ron knew that look. Knew that feeling…missed that feeling.

  “Thank you again for having us,” Patricia was saying. He glanced to his right and found her smiling at him.

  She was really lovely when she smiled.

  “Our pleasure.”

  “I can’t believe you cooked two turkeys.”

  “I’m officially a fan of deep fried turkey,” Marcus inserted.

  Ron chuckled. “Glad to hear it. I doubt we’ll have much left by tomorrow. Sometimes I think my boys never stopped growing.”

  Patricia made a sound of agreement as she reached for her water glass. “They sure do eat like they’re going through a growth spurt don’t they?”

  “Yes, ma’am…”

  The boys were making plans to go paint balling the next day. As usual, JJ fit right in. She might wear dresses and high heels these days but since the moment she’d moved into his home almost twenty five years ago, she’d been holding her own with three rowdy brothers.

  “Since the kids are planning their own outing tomorrow, maybe you’d let me show you the high spots of Atlanta,” Ron said to Patricia.

  “What high spots?” Greg inserted but quickly turned back to the conversation at the end of the table.

  “I’d love that.”

  “Excellent.”

  “That was so good I could have another round of everything,” Marcus said, his hand on his belly.

  Ron grinned. That was one of the highest compliments in his book.

  “Better hold off, son. JJ’s been cooking pies all week.”

  “You’ll love JJ’s pie,” Ronny said from the other end of the table. “What kind did you make this year, sis?”

  JJ wiped her mouth and held up a hand. “Pumpkin.” She extended one finger as she counted off. “Pecan. Sweet potato. Apple.”

  “I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Kyle said, reminding Ron of Greg. Such youthful exuberance.

  “You and me both,” Trevor added, but he was looking at JJ.

  Ron didn’t miss the way his daughter swayed a little toward her boyfriend.

  “We usually eat it in the living room, if that’s okay,” JJ said. “I’ve got vanilla ice cream and whipped cream for anyone who wants it.”

  There was a bevy of discussion of flavor combinations.

  “Sounds wonderful dear,” Patricia said. “Boys, clean up.”

  Ron watched, amazement bubbling through him, as all three Wyatt men jumped up to clear the dishes. Trevor pecked JJ on the lips as he scooped up her plate. Marcus gathered Greg’s and Patricia’s before reaching for Ron’s.

  Patricia chuckled. “They’ve been doing their own laundry since they were little too,” she said, obviously reading his mind.

  “Obviously Leigh Ann and I coddled ours too much.” He loved his late wife, but she had been a bit of a coddler.

  Not to be out done, his sons gathered up everything that was left and headed for the kitchen.

  “Pumpkin pie with whipped cream, dad?” JJ asked, standing.

  “You know me too well, honey.”

  “Mrs. Wyatt?”

  “I think I’ll have the apple with the ice cream.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Ron was glad to see that Patricia ruled her family with an iron fist and didn’t let her boys get away with anything. It eased his worry about his only daughter dating such a popular man. Trevor seemed like a great guy, but since Leigh Ann’s death, he’d felt extra protective where Julia was concerned.

  But after meeting the rest of the Wyatt clan, he realized she was in good hands. He added that to his list of many blessings.

  JJ’s laughter carried through the house and someone turned the game back on. Ron pushed away from the table and then helped Patricia to the living room. Was it too soon to wonder when they’d be hearing wedding bells?

  Whatever the case, it was good to see his daughter so happy.

  Now if only he could get his three knuckle headed boys into good stable relationships. He was counting the days until he could bounce grandbabies on his knee. Yes, sir. Counting the days.

  After her morning interview with a contractor for an article about flipping houses, submitting her latest piece to John and having lunch with Trevor at her parents’ house
(yay for leftovers) the next day, JJ found herself on a paint ball course trying her hardest not to pass out from exhaustion. But sneaking through the woods, trying to move undetected had her adrenaline pumping. She crouched behind a small, rustic structure and tried to steady her breathing. How Trevor and the guys had talked her into this she didn’t know.

  But him cooking breakfast for her on her little portable grill had surely helped.

  As long as she lived, she’d never forget the startled look on his face the first time she’d put a bright turquoise paint ball in the center of his vest. The sinful mouth she’d kissed most of last night had dropped open in disbelief. But before he could return fire she’d run off.

  That’d been ten minutes ago and she’d hit him twice since then. Her dad would be so proud.

  She wasn’t sure where her teammates had ventured off too. And she didn’t much care. She’d only been half listening to the instructions about getting flags and taking them back to base. At the time she’d been more concerned with the gleam in Trevor’s eyes and the fact that the enormous paint ball course was several miles across.

  Pressing her back against the aged wood shack, she held her breath for a few seconds to see if she could hear his approach. Nothing.

  In the distance a phbt-phbt-phbt rang out. Then a curse and a laugh. But in her corner of the world, things were quiet. While the idea of shooting her lover with tiny balls of paint hadn’t been particularly appealing, JJ could appreciate the running and activity involved. And besting Trevor at his own game was growing on her.

  Feeling bold she called out “it’s a good thing you know your way around a football field.”

  His rich laughter rang through the woods. “I never should have given you a head start, sweetheart,” he called back.

  Her lips twitched.

  “Keep telling yourself that, big-boy.”

  She was pretty sure he was coming up the left side of the building. Flanking right, she kept her finger on the trigger. If only her momma could see her now.

  Sure, she’d been something of a tomboy after her mom had remarried. She’d had to be with three rough and tumble brothers. Her dad had taught her how to shoot right along with the boys. And while she’d been good at hitting stationary targets, skeet shooting reminded her too much of hunting ducks.