Unraveling Him: A Small Town Family Romance (The Bailey Brothers Book 3)

by Claire Kingsley

  “Does he actually sell any of it?”

  “Sometimes. That used to be his business before he retired. One time my dad’s shop was doing a custom Corvette Stingray and for the life of me, I couldn’t find an authentic speedometer. I don’t even remember how I found Denny, but he had one. Once in a while he has just the right thing to finish a build.”

  “How did you know he has the gauges for a Mustang?”

  “I’ve seen them. I can’t guarantee he’ll sell them, but I know he has them.”

  “Well I’ve seen you in action. I have a feeling you’ll convince him.”

  “That’s the plan.” I fiddled with my hands in my lap. “Can I say something?”

  “Sure.”

  “I really am sorry about… you know.”

  “Turning me down?”

  “Yeah. That.”

  “It’s okay.” He was quiet for a moment, his hands on the steering wheel. “Obviously I was pissed that you picked Evan over me. But did you notice that when I kissed you… nothing happened?”

  “Yes. Oh my god, you felt that too? Or didn’t feel it, I guess?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it was pretty clear. It doesn’t even make sense. You’re beautiful and I have every reason to like you. Or I did before you went Bailey on me. But it just wasn’t there. I could tell you felt it too. So, as much as it pains me to admit it, you probably made the right call.”

  “It’s very big of you to admit that, Luke.”

  “Don’t tell him I said that.”

  I laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t. So can I ask if you’re dating someone, or is that too weird?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not, but there’s a girl I’m thinking about asking out.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “Her name’s Jill.”

  “Wait. Do you mean blond-haired blue-eyed cute Jill? The one who Evan kissed in front of you?”

  He glanced at me. “He told you about that?”

  “Yes. He told me you were flirting with her and he totally cockblocked you. And then he blew her off, by the way. He never called her.”

  “Prick.”

  “I know, I’m not exactly on his side on that one. But are you sure about her?”

  “Why?”

  “First of all, didn’t she give Evan her number right in front of you? That’s kind of crappy.”

  “Yeah, she did.”

  “And this might make me sound like I’m being a jealous girlfriend, but I think she’s a little…”

  “What?”

  How could I explain this? “You know that ‘overly attached girlfriend’ meme?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s Jill.”

  He eyed me like he wasn’t sure if I was kidding. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s just that she seemed to think she was dating Evan, but they never went out. She broke up with him,” I said, making air quotes, “rather dramatically at the Caboose the other night. Walked right up to our table and said she’d given him enough chances, but now he was losing her. He had no idea what she was talking about. His brothers didn’t either.”

  “Hmm. Okay, thanks for the heads up.”

  We were quiet for a few moments while the scenery raced by.

  “Can I ask you something else that’s probably even more random?”

  “Why not.”

  “You know the old racing photos in your shop? Do you know anything else about them?”

  “Not really. Why?”

  “Just something Asher’s fiancée Grace has been trying to figure out. She found some stuff that belonged to a woman named Eliza Bailey. It’s old, early 1900s. She did a little digging and discovered Eliza went missing. There was a notice in the newspaper offering a reward for information, and someone named John Haven was listed as maybe being involved. She doesn’t know if he was, or how. But I keep wondering if maybe that has something to do with the feud, you know? A Bailey woman goes missing and they want to question a Haven about it? And then you have a photo of John Haven in your shop. It sparks curiosity.”

  “Wow, yeah.”

  “Does your family know how the feud started?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think anyone does. But Grace thinks this might be it? Something between John Haven and Eliza Bailey?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe the feud had already started, or maybe none of it’s related. That’s the thing, we don’t know.”

  “I don’t know anything about him, other than he raced cars. Did Grace ask my mom? They know each other, right?”

  “Yeah, but she didn’t know much about him. Your mom’s nice, by the way. I see her at Stitch and Sip, which seems weird but not. Anyway, I knew it was a long shot, but I thought maybe you’d heard a racing story about him or something.”

  “Sorry. I don’t know.”

  “That’s okay. It was worth a try.”

  We made good time getting to Denny’s place. His house looked like a museum, even from the outside. Vintage gas pumps flanked his front door and he had old signs and artwork everywhere.

  As predicted, Denny was skeptical about parting with his set of Mustang gauges. About halfway through negotiations, I’d wished I’d brought cookies to sweeten the deal—literally. But in the end, I talked him into it. Luke gave him a fair price, and we left. Mission accomplished.

  Mostly.

  “Well, you held up your end of the deal,” Luke said as we headed down the highway back to Tilikum. “I’ll sell Evan the carriage. But what if you can’t convince him to buy it from me?”

  I shrugged. “Then consider the gauges a goodwill gesture. But I’m on a roll, now. I’ll convince him.”

  He shook his head. “I probably shouldn’t doubt you.”

  I smiled at him. He shouldn’t doubt me, because I knew Evan Bailey’s weakness.

  Blackberry cobbler.

  36

  Fiona

  Evan was working when I got back. Although I was excited to tell him I’d found a convertible carriage, this was delicate. I needed to handle it carefully or he’d just get mad.

  Step one: blackberry cobbler.

  Step two would undoubtedly involve getting naked. Was I a terrible person for planning to use sex to butter up my boyfriend? Maybe. But honestly, what other recourse did I have? Evan Bailey was the most stubborn man I’d ever met. A full stomach and empty balls would at least make him pliable.

  Besides, he was going to thank me for all of it.

  I flitted around the kitchen, getting out ingredients and humming along to the music I had playing. I’d stopped at the grocery store on my way home to get fresh blackberries. It was getting late, and it would take about an hour once I got it in the oven, but that was fine. I popped a blackberry in my mouth, savoring the burst of tart sweetness on my tongue. Oh yeah. This was going to be good.

  The front door flew open and I whirled around, my heart suddenly racing. Evan stood in the open doorway, huge and imposing. He had a groove between his dark eyebrows and his chiseled jaw was tight. Eyes fixed on me.

  A predator who’d just spotted his prey.

  Me.

  He kicked the door shut behind him and stalked straight into the kitchen, his eyes never once leaving mine. I skittered backward a few steps, helpless as a baby gazelle. All my plans dissolved to nothing, evaporating from my mind like a puff of water vapor, replaced by the scorching need in Evan’s eyes.

  For half a second, I wondered if he was mad. Did he know what I’d been up to?

  Wordlessly, he caged me in against the counter, crowding me with his huge frame. He smelled faintly of rubber and oil, the scents of his shop layered over the intoxicating smell of his body. He was so ruggedly male, so big and powerful. His closeness made my heart flutter and sparks dance across my skin.

  Leaning in, he slid his nose along my neck and inhaled deeply. “I missed you today.”

  That tiny brush of contact sent a shiver down my spine. Nope, not mad. “I missed you, too. Where’s Sasquatch?”

>   “In the shop with a bone.” He inhaled again, then pressed his lips to my neck, just below my ear, leaving a hot brand on my skin. His low growl reverberated through me. “I thought you’d come find me when you got home.”

  “Oh, I…” I’d been about to do something, here in the kitchen. What was it? He palmed my breast, his thumb sliding over my nipple through my clothes. My eyelids fluttered and a soft sigh escaped my lips.

  “I was thinking about fucking you over the hood of the car.” His thumb traced circles over my stiff nipple, that little movement and his low voice in my ear making me squirm with need. “But the kitchen works, too.”

  Fuck me in the shop? On the kitchen counter? Any of it. All of it. Yes, please.

  His big hand kept kneading my breast while his mouth found mine. He kissed me deep, with slow thrusts of his velvety tongue. I slid my hands along the hard ridges of his abs and fisted his shirt when he pushed his erection against me.

  Why weren’t we naked yet?

  I went for his pants, but he grabbed my hair at the base of my neck and jerked my head back. Dove into my mouth with his tongue, leaving me breathless and trembling.

  He wanted control. I happily gave it to him.

  His mouth left mine long enough to pull my shirt over my head. He kissed me again, then ripped his shirt off and let it drop to the floor.

  God, he was massive. His broad chest and thick arms rippled with muscle. Smooth olive skin. Tattoos down his arm. He was absolutely gorgeous.

  And that was with his pants on.

  Those huge hands picked me up and set me on the counter. I spread my legs wide while he yanked my bra straps off my shoulders and pulled both breasts out of their cups. With a groan, he held my tits in his hands and hungrily licked my hard peaks. My head dropped back as sparks raced to my core.

  The throbbing pressure between my legs grew with every lap of his tongue. He licked and sucked and teased, making me ache for him, flooding me with warmth.

  Finally, he headed south, but not because he was ready to take mercy on me and fuck me senseless. I braced myself against the counter while he took off my pants, but his remained frustratingly on.

  “Evan—”

  He silenced me with a look, his whiskey-brown eyes molten with lust.

  Licking his lips, he leaned down to kiss my inner thigh. His stubble grazed my skin and he put his mouth everywhere but where I needed him most.

  He was doing this on purpose.

  Driving me crazy.

  I loved it.

  The tender flesh between my legs cried out for his touch, so sensitive the mere whisper of his breath sent a tremor through me. His tongue flicked out over my slit as he crossed from one thigh to another.

  Fucking tease.

  I hoped he’d do it again.

  “You taste so good.”

  He nibbled and kissed, giving me quick brushes of his tongue, making me shiver and moan. My nipples puckered in the air, still glistening from his mouth, and if he didn’t make me come soon, I was going to—

  Without warning, he slid two thick fingers inside me. I cried out at the sudden pressure—glorious, glorious pressure. It wasn’t his dick—and I really loved his dick—but it was so, so good.

  Evan’s hands were literal magic.

  He licked my clit and pumped his fingers, finally giving me what I desperately needed. I held onto the edge of the counter for dear life, my breath coming in shallow gasps, pleasure consuming me.

  His eyes lifted and I watched with erotic fascination as he sucked on my clit. Was there anything hotter than the sight of Evan Bailey’s face between my legs? I couldn’t think of anything.

  Then again, I couldn’t think at all.

  Like the wolf he was, he growled against me, sending shock waves of vibration through my body. His fingers inside me and his tongue on my clit were a wicked combination.

  And then he slid a finger from his other hand lower. A little lower. Pressed the tip against my ass.

  “Oh god,” I cried out, throwing my head back.

  He played with my ass, swirling his finger around, applying gentle pressure. The new sensation made my head spin and my body teeter on the edge of climax.

  A part of me wanted to wait and come on his cock, but Evan was having none of that. He curled his fingers and flicked my clit until I was panting for breath, my inner walls quaking. A ripple passed through me, making him growl.

  I was hot and wet and so fucking ready.

  Another lap of his tongue was all it took. Closing my eyes, I cried out while I shattered to pieces. My pussy spasmed around his fingers in a quick rhythm while he stroked and sucked, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure my body had to give.

  He slid his fingers out while I tried to catch my breath. I was still braced on the counter, and he still had his pants on.

  Not for long.

  His eyes locked with mine and he slowly, methodically unfastened his jeans. Dear god, he’d gone commando. That thick cock appeared in all its unbelievable glory as soon as he popped the button. It was so big, I didn’t know how he’d kept it inside his pants at all.

  He lowered the zipper so his pants hung loose at his hips, then fisted his cock. His eyes tracked up and down, taking me in. I had to look a mess—sitting on the counter with my legs spread open, my bra half on, and I had no idea what was happening to my hair. But whatever he saw, he liked it.

  The way he bit his lower lip and stroked his cock a few times told me that much.

  A feeling bloomed in my chest. So much more than the happy brain chemicals and hormones rushing through me after an admittedly fantastic orgasm. The way Evan looked at me was lustful, yes. He wanted me. And I loved that—loved being wanted.

  But it was more.

  There was something else in his eyes and it was both beautiful and terrifying.

  It was something that looked an awful lot like love.

  Did Evan love me?

  Before I had a chance to get lost in pondering the look in his eyes, he grabbed me off the counter and took me to the couch.

  Not complaining.

  I bounced on the cushions and giggled. He pulled a condom out of his pocket—he really had been planning to fuck me in the shop—then kicked off his pants.

  “Ready for more, beautiful?” He rolled the condom onto that magnificent erection.

  My core tingled with anticipation and I took a second to pop my bra the rest of the way off. “Yes. Yes, please.”

  He knelt on the couch in front of me, holding my legs open, and tilted his head. “Such a pretty pussy. She needs my cock, doesn’t she?”

  “Oh my god, so much.”

  His lips curled in a smile. “I’m going to fuck you hard and deep. Does that sound good?”

  “Yes,” I whimpered.

  He moved closer, his swollen cock jutting out in front of him. His body was a masterpiece of masculinity—every bit of him thick and hard. He was rough around the edges, but in those whiskey eyes, I could see his melty center.

  And I almost said it. I almost uttered the words.

  I love you, Evan.

  In my heartbeat of hesitation, he thrust inside me.

  If I’d been any less wet and ready, I’d have struggled to accommodate him. He stretched me open, filling me to my breaking point.

  His abs flexed as he thrust his hips, driving his cock into me. That groove between his eyebrows was so deliciously sexy. I loved the way he looked mean when he fucked me.

  But he wasn’t. He was tender, even when he was aggressive. Taking his pleasure, but always making sure I had mine.

  Holding my legs open, he pounded me into the couch, grunting hard. Sweat glistened on his chest and his eyes didn’t leave mine.

  One orgasm was just a warm-up when you were Evan Bailey’s girl, and in minutes I was racing to the edge yet again. He reached down and rubbed his thumb over my clit, making my eyes roll back and my inner walls clench tight.

  “Fuck, your pussy feels good. I could do thi
s forever.”

  A whimper was all I could get out. He thrust harder while he rubbed my clit. A flush raced across my cheeks and my nipples tightened.

  His cock demanded another orgasm and my body happily complied.

  Pulses of hot pleasure rolled through me like slow waves, the sensation deeper than before. My eyes fluttered closed as sensation washed over me. Evan’s thick erection, thrusting, stretching me. His hands, his body, his skin against mine.

  By the time it was over, my body was trembling. And Evan had yet to unleash.

  He licked his lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

  I let out a breath, feeling like I could sink right into the couch. How much more could I take?

  “Knees.” His voice was low and demanding.

  I turned over, arching my back for him. I could take it all—everything he had to give.

  He palmed my backside and traced his thumbs along my very wet slit. “So pretty. So wet. And fuck, this ass. I fucking love this ass.”

  Giggling softly, I arched harder.

  Groaning, he slid his finger into my ass. Just the tip. It was wet, but I felt my muscles tighten around him.

  “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice surprisingly soft.

  “Yes,” I whispered back.

  He pushed in again, further this time, and his throaty growl was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard. While he gently massaged my ass, he slid his cock into my wetness. Thrusted and pushed his finger in deeper.

  “Still okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He thrust again, groaning, his finger working me. Evan was the only man who’d ever touched me there, but I liked it. I wanted him inside me, everywhere.

  I wanted him to own me. Mark me. Claim me as his.

  “You want it?” I asked, pushing my hips back. “Take it.”

  He grunted, his cock pulsing inside me.

  “Fuck my ass, Evan.”

  His answering shudder made me feel strong and powerful. He was putty for me. He was mine.

  “Holy fuck,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Do it. Come in my ass. I know you want it. Take it.”