Rocket Man
Page 27
Once again, she tried to talk herself into feeling that this whole ‘meet the family’ thing wasn’t happening too soon. It helped if she timed their relationship from the night at Eddie’s, instead of after the kitten revelation. Kitten! She diverted to her medicine cabinet to take an antihistamine, just in case its dander was on the car seat or anything.
She called Natalie for moral support.
“First of all, they’ll love you. Second of all, the baby is no judge of character. Third of all, I thought these guys were his friends as much as his family, right?”
“Right,” Serena admitted.
“So it’s the same as us meeting Dillon, which, by the way, you need to arrange. And fourth of all, I’m in the middle of showing a house and I can hear them coming back downstairs, so relax, go have fun, and don’t call me again.”
“Oops.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you. Relax. Bye.”
Natalie hung up before Serena could properly apologize, so she typed out a quick text and took a deep cleansing breath. Wildflowers and roadside barbecue. Nothing to stress over. No need to jump half out of her skin when Dillon rang the doorbell.
“Hey, lovely,” he said, scruffy in the best way with jeans and a French blue t-shirt that made his eyes practically glow. “Ready?”
Wow. Just the sight of him was insanely calming. This was an interesting development. She leaned in for a quick—maybe not all that quick—kiss, and headed out to the SUV where his family awaited them.
Okay, Serena admitted to herself, Justin and Shannon and even baby Tobias were great. They’d offered her the front seat, Shannon taking the entirely understandable stance that she wasn’t going to be able to stare at Toby’s every movement during this first long car ride of his life if she wasn’t next to him, and Dillon promising that if it was too cramped for his long legs, he’d kick the back of her seat the whole way in retaliation. Justin was a bit of a hottie, all broad and California in a way that Dillon and his sister weren’t, despite them all having grown up there. She could picture him, or at least a slightly younger version of him, playing beach volleyball. Shannon was more like Dillon—lean, with strong features and even darker hair than his.
“So Toby is one of those spitting-image-of-his-dad kind of babies, then?” she asked, half-turning to address both parents as Justin put the car onto the freeway out of town.
“Justin thinks his eyes will stay bluer, like mine, but a lot of infants have blue eyes. If they go brown, I’ll hardly be able to tell his baby pics from Justin’s.”
“Hey, I didn’t come out that big. That’s on you Hamiltons.”
“I was only nine pounds. Dillon was the hefty one.”
“Yo,” Dillon said. “I was adorable. Just because I weighed as much at six as you did at eleven is no reason to call me names.”
Serena laughed. “Oh, I hope there are pictures.”
“There are,” Shannon promised. “Play your cards right, because I’ve got them all.”
Dillon reached across Toby to tug at his sister’s hair. “You are not allowed to show my baby pictures to my girlfriend. You shouldn’t even still have them. Why isn’t that one of the boxes you left behind when I took over your townhouse?”
Girlfriend?
Okay. Girlfriend. There was no reason for that to be a bad word. It even made sense. Dillon was her boyfriend. Hey, y’all, this is my boyfriend, Dillon. Don’t call him Rocket Man to his face or I’ll eviscerate you. Sure. That sounded okay. Serena forced herself to relax and engage with the conversation. Justin launched into a long and sinful story about the machinations of a co-worker that seemed almost too calculated to relax her and ease the potential awkwardness of a longish car ride with strangers. Dillon had said his brother-in-law’s emotional intelligence was off the charts, so maybe Serena was watching for it, but she was still impressed. And grateful.
Toby wriggle-fussed a little as they approached the first group of cars pulled to the verge. Families moved en masse towards the biggest clumps of the bright blue flowers.
“It’s a little crowded here,” Justin said. “Want me to go on a bit further?”
“He’s going to wake in five minutes.”
“Okay, but further, or stop?”
Serena looked back at Shannon. She wasn’t looking up from the baby at all. Justin had tensed up his shoulders. She’d seen it before: every decision about what to do with every minute of a newborn’s life was vital to some parents.
“We just passed Hempstead, right?” she asked. Justin nodded. “Jorge told me there’s a field near Chappell Hill, probably not fifteen minutes from here. There’s a big section of bluebonnets, and another part with mixed wildflowers—Indian paintbrush, blanketflowers, buttercups. Do you think Toby will be okay that far?”
Justin waited, silent. Shannon studied her son; Serena and Dillon studied Shannon. They were already past anywhere reasonable to stop, so Serena guessed the answer, but was almost as relieved as Justin seemed to be when she said that Jorge’s field sounded perfect.
“He took his fiancé out there for a photo shoot last week. They’re kind of precious. And I’m sure Toby will look even better, since he’s the cutest baby in the world.”
“I like this woman,” Shannon said.
“Agreed,” Justin agreed. “Where do I go?”
“Turn right on FM 1155. There’s a traffic light so you can’t miss it. Then it’s just past the Chamber of Commerce but before the historic hotel on Main Street.”
Justin almost giggled. “You Texans are so damn adorable.”
“Y’all sure are, little lady,” Dillon drawled from behind her.
Serena whipped around to give Dillon a pointed look, and caught Shannon pinching his ear. He grimaced and slumped a little, jamming his knees into the back of her chair. “Fine, fine, no accent. You’ve made your point.”
“Mockery is a low form of humor, little brother,” Shannon sang in a soothing voice, head bent over Toby’s car seat. Dillon instantly leaned over the baby and began humming softly, which took the knees out of Serena’s back, fortunately.
When the faint wailing started, Justin’s shoulders tensed up noticeably. His eyes were on the rearview as much as the road in front of him, and Serena wondered why these people weren’t just taking the baby to one of the patches of wildflowers growing in a city park instead. But Rachel and other mom friends of hers had taught her well not to question parent logic, and, besides, they were almost there.
“That’s Chappell Hill,” she pointed. Justin breathed a sigh of a relief, which did little to ease the fussy-baby tension bearing down on all of them. Serena employed her deep yoga breaths in a silly attempt to spread calm throughout the car. She’d have laughed aloud at herself if she weren’t worried it would upset the baby, and, therefore, every adult member of his family.
“Turn here,” she said quietly. “That’s the one. Looks like there’s parking past that gate.” The field was every bit as photogenic as promised. Large swathes of bluebonnets, a few lone oaks dotted around, and a white split-rail fence enclosing it all for the full countryside effect. And there were only three other cars parked by its side.
Justin whooshed out a lungful as he put the car in park. Shannon was already unbuckling the infant carrier straps, and when everyone else got out of the SUV, she was settling Tobias on her breast.
“He likes a snack when he wakes up,” Justin told her. He opened the back hatch to set up a changing station.
“Let’s take a walk,” Dillon said, grabbing her hand. “Kiddo snacks for twenty minutes at least.”
Serena smiled and off they went.
It was a perfect day. Seven fluffy clouds in an otherwise expansive blue sky, temperate, and that something fresh and green in the air that didn’t really happen in the middle of a city, Houston Green and its campaign notwithstanding. Serena’s honey-lavender scent fit right in with everything else soothing to his senses: the faint breeze, her cool hand in his, and the colors of the flowers.
“She’d be up for hours hanging out with a baby and your sister?” he’d asked.
“I think so. I’ll ask her. I just wanted to clear it with you guys first.”
“Dillon, if you want her there, I want her there. You—well, you want us to meet her, and I’m glad. Good for you.” Justin had a way about him. Toby had lucked out in the paternal department. Maternal, too, of course, but Dillon had known Shannon all his life. He couldn’t read Justin the same way, and didn’t know where everything was coming from. That slight uncertainty meant Dillon was often watching Justin for his reaction, and when it was positive, Dillon felt it.
“What do you think of them?” he asked Serena now. “They like you. Is it too much for you? Do you need me to find the one taxi this town has and send you back to Houston to escape us all?”
She laughed. “Somehow, I’m not so sure Chappell Hill has even the one taxi. I could always hitchhike if I get desperate. Plenty of guys in ball caps and pickup trucks passing by.”
“Not a chance I’m giving you up to one of those guys. I guess you’re stuck with me.”
She halted, pulling their clasped hands around so he was circling her waist. Her other arm smoothed across his chest as she leaned into him. “Well, I’d best to make the best of it then, Boyfriend Dillon.”
Uh-oh. He eyed her. He’d slipped that in while she was facing forward, so he couldn’t see her reaction. It had been deliberate. Dillon was trying to not count her tiny hesitations and delayed reactions when he talked about their relationship, or plans, or being public together. Saying ‘girlfriend’ when she wasn’t facing him gave her the time to adjust unobserved.
But she’d just called him ‘boyfriend,’ and her tone was teasing rather than displeased, and Dillon pressed her closer.
“Okay, Girlfriend Serena, what is your version of making the best of it?”
In answer, her fingers raked into his hair and their lips met and the sun was shining and birds were twittering and all was right with the world.
Walking back, Serena kept looking at the flowers, enchanted. She’d done the photos in bluebonnets thing a few times over her thirty years. Not too often with her mom, but periodically with her dad and whichever wife he had at the time.
“Dad and Flan brought us out every year after Jonas was born,” she told Dillon.
“Flan?”
“Fran! Fran. Jonas’s mom is Fran. I can’t believe I still do that—bad holdover from a bad joke. Mom and I found her a little...uninspiring.”
He snatched up her hand and kissed it. “Clearly. Now I’m worried about what you call me behind my back. Chillin’? Willin’? I am willing, you know.”
“Stop leering. I was a teenager. It was practically the law that I give my steps insulting nicknames.” Poor Flan. She was the only one Serena still saw regularly, since she made a point to get together with her young half-brother every few months. She wondered if Jonas was still dragged out here every spring now that he was a teenager. She wondered if Fran still had some of those old photos of them on display—her sullen college-age self holding the squirming toddler still long enough for an in-focus shot, or the earlier one when she’d allowed Fran to color-coordinate them and she held baby Jonas upright and an opportune butterfly had helped Dad catch their delighted smiles. Probably Fran kept that one up, at least.
Dillon was running her hand down his torso. “Want to see how willing I am?”
“Your sister is right there,” she protested, although, really, they were a ways away still. “Besides, they have to be insulting nicknames. Like if I switched the ‘i’ for a ‘u’ or something.”
Narrow-eyed, he tugged her to him. “You’re going to pay for that.”
“It was just an example.”
“Right,” he drew out the word, clearly contemplating retaliation. Serena scrambled for a diversion, and, even though she felt the tiniest bit silly, pulled the digital out of her bag.
“Hey, go lean against that fence post,” she directed. She’d only half-planned to take photos of him, but he was beautiful in the setting, and all these memories were getting to her some. He caught her gist right away, but instead of censure his eyes lit up, pleased. And why shouldn’t they? Nothing wrong with a girlfriend taking a picture of her gorgeous boyfriend. His soft blue shirt and jeans delineated all of the muscles she adored, the hues playing tag with the blues of the sky and blooms. The white fence was a strong line in her frame, and he was smiling just a perfect half-smile as he regarded her steadily. The breeze kicked up a notch, ruffling his dark hair, and Serena nearly forgot to hit the shutter button, he was so beguiling standing there.
“Now you,” Dillon surprised her, approaching fast while she was still studying the image on her screen.
“I refuse to fuss with my hair like a girly-girl,” she said, surrendering the camera, “but wait until I touch up my lip gloss. It feels like it all disappeared.”
Dillon bared predatory teeth and snatched a kiss before she could get the gloss on. “I like the color your lips are now. They’re the same shade as your nipples when I’ve been kissing them.”
Dear lord, where was that breeze when she needed it? She shot a quick glance towards the SUV, but they were still well out of range of his family. Defiantly she used the gloss, and smoothed back her hair as she walked to the fence. She hitched herself up onto the highest rail, pulled a half-turned, leaning back pose that sent her breasts skyward. Dillon shook his head at her grin and took a couple of quick shots as he stalked towards her.
“Are you trying to get us rolling around in this field?”
“I’m sure that wouldn’t scar the baby for life or anything.”
He grabbed her off the fence and plastered her body to his, holding out the camera at arm’s length. “Smile, funny girl.”
She kissed him instead, but he took the photo regardless.
“It’s a damn good thing I didn’t pack condoms for a day trip with my sister,” Dillon growled into her ear, making her both shiver and giggle. “If I had half a chance to get you alone right now I would be indulging in some very bad behavior.”
It was wisest, all things considered, not to mention the contents of her purse.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“You never answered my question,” Dillon said later, as they waved off Shannon’s family and went into his townhouse.
They’d managed to behave like sensible, mature adults for the rest of the afternoon. Toby had been relatively cooperative about the photos, and once Justin’s fancy lenses were in play, they’d gotten lots of shots of various groupings. Mostly Toby with one or several adults, but a few of Dillon and Serena together (behaving maturely and sensibly), and even the two of them with the baby. That had felt strange, to say the least, but Justin had been so matter-of-fact about it that Serena had just dropped to the blanket and leaned up against Dillon's knee as instructed. Still, she was glad he’d forgotten the tripod and been unable to take a photo of all five of them. The server at the barbecue joint had obliged with a group shot, but that didn’t feel as intimate, somehow.
“What question?”
He pushed her flat against his door, an echo of that allergic kiss but one which made her breathless for such better reasons.
“Do,” he nibbled at her neck, “you like,” he slid his leg between hers and rocked his thigh at her apex, “my family?” his hands were pulling her breasts from the silk cups of her bra.
Dropping her head against the door, panting, scraping nails up his rib cage as she wrest the shirt off his back, Serena hummed her approval. “I didn’t get that taxi, did I?” His chest was right there, slightly salty, ready for her teeth to lay claim to
his pecs, and the jeans weren’t going to be a barrier for long. “I didn’t even pull the condoms out of my bag, that’s how much I enjoyed their company.”
He groaned. “How dare you?”
“Anticipation, Rocket Man. I don’t know if you noticed,” she got both of their jeans unbuttoned, her shirt lifted over her head, “but I am really, really ready for you.” She stopped the aggressive riding of his thigh long enough to allow him to shove his hand into her panties, his long fingers finding the slick proof while he sucked her always-wanton, eager nipple deep into his mouth. Now she was moaning. She got his jeans lowered, and his erection fit into her hand as if they were made for each other. Yanking her bra off, she shoved him to perch on the back of his sofa.
There it was, the full unfettered length of him, pulsing gently as she gazed. Dillon's hands were circling her waist, but she resisted, bending forward so that she could rub the moist tip of his cock against the aching underside of her breast. She sank lower, pressing her breasts together to make a valley into which he thrust, unhesitating, the head coming closer and closer to her mouth as she lowered her chin to take in the sight of his erection and her taut nipples and her hands on her breasts and his hands covering them.
She licked the head of his shaft as he bucked against her, then arched and threw back her head to give him a clear view, and his eyes burned, the blue of a storm and a raging sea. Dillon chanted her name and hung on as she knelt and licked and circled and sucked. He’d managed to kick off a leg of his jeans and he spread his legs wide, giving her plenty of access to his hard muscled, smooth skinned, fever-hot erection.
She took her time, then didn’t, then taunted him by backing off again. “Serena,” he moaned, and the tenor of that moan she knew now, knew intimately, and she sucked hard one more time, never letting go of the base of his cock. Then she licked, just the tip, once, twice as he breathed hard and she was breathing hard, too, because his tension was exciting. So exciting. Straightening, arching again, she brought him back to her chest and they both watched her breasts bouncing while she pumped his thick hard erection, and with a final cry of her name, Dillon came over her breasts. She held him, stroked him as the fluid traveled up and out, coating her hand so she could spread it to her nipples which peaked even more tightly in the cool wet air.