Poet (Avenues Ink Series Book 3)

Home > Romance > Poet (Avenues Ink Series Book 3) > Page 20
Poet (Avenues Ink Series Book 3) Page 20

by A. M. Johnson


  “I am.” I sank my teeth into my bottom lip.

  “I like it…” His fingers dug into the flesh of my hips as he lifted my body and aligned himself at my entrance. “But this is so much better,” he said. His blue eyes turned dark as he gave himself over to the storm and lowered me onto his body.

  I shivered as he slid inside me. The pulse between my legs welcomed the full feeling. I’d felt empty for far too long. An unrestrained groan rumbled in his chest, and I leaned down to kiss him. Our mouths moved in a smooth, measured pace that matched the rise and fall of his hips and the sway of my own. He was making love to my mouth, and the heat of our bodies coming together gathered along my skin and stuttered past my lips in shameless whimpers and needy moans.

  We stayed like that for most of the night. Wrapped inside the other. After I’d decided I wasn’t going to let my past haunt my future, I let go. I let go and I’d let him have every piece of me. I just hoped that, in the morning, he’d still want what was left.

  The next morning, the snow had slowed and the roads were not as treacherous as I’d thought they’d be. Kieran had been able to get to work on time without any problems, but he hadn’t left in a hurry either. When my alarm had gone off, I’d opened my eyes and, for a moment, allowed myself back into the negative head space. But that was before Kieran had flung his arm across my stomach, pulled me close and uttered in the sexiest sleep voice possible, “Don’t even think about moving.”

  He was a starved man on a mission.

  My muscles ached, but I’d let his broad, masculine form consume me again before we’d both begrudgingly left the confines of my bed for a long hot shower. Even now, as I stood in the kitchen at my family’s restaurant, my smile would not fade. The soreness between my thighs was a reward. A reminder that I was still a walking, breathing, human woman. I couldn’t decide what I liked better. His hands on my shower-slick body, worshipping every curve, or the noises he’d made when I’d washed his hair.

  “Mija. There are customers. Apúrate!” My father’s deep voice called from the kitchen doorway, breaking through my dirty thoughts.

  I tried to ignore how his knowing stare assessed me. I swear, my father could smell a lie and a man from a mile away.

  “I am hurrying,” I mumbled under my breath as I grabbed a basket of tortilla chips and a bowl of salsa.

  “You got your head in the clouds today.” He brushed past me and grabbed two more baskets. “Grab a tray, table six wants two waters and three Cokes.”

  He was a cyclone as he turned to our cook, Javier, and began to bark out orders in Spanish.

  He wasn’t usually this bristly. “What’s the matter, Papa?”

  He stopped mid-step and locked his eyes on me. “What’s the matter? We’ve been open for lunch for an hour already and your head is either buried in your phone, or like I said, up in the clouds. At first I was…” Worried. He was always worried, because no matter what I did, my parents would always think a change in my behavior meant I was back on drugs. I couldn’t be angry with them, because it was my fault they watched me like a hawk.

  “I’m not on drugs.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. His dark brown eyes searching mine. “I know that.” But his smile was forced.

  “The guy I was telling you about the other day...”

  “The ‘just one date’ guy?” he asked, his lips twitching into an almost real smile. “The boy from church?”

  I stifled my teenage angst-y ass groan. “He’s really… nice.”

  His smile spread slowly. “He’s nice?”

  I nodded.

  “You like him?”

  I nodded again because the relief on my father’s face had formed a boulder in my throat.

  “This is great news!” He clapped his hands before resting them on my cheeks.

  “What’s great news?”

  My mother’s eyes met mine from across the kitchen as she walked in, and I prayed she couldn’t see my sudden swell of tears.

  “The boy from church,” my father said by way of explanation.

  My mom’s eyes lit as if this was a topic of conversation they’d both had recently and my shoulders slumped. It didn’t matter how old I got, I’d always be their baby, and no matter what, they’d always support me. By sheer will alone my tears dried before they spilled, and I shrugged out of my father’s hold. “You are both nosy old bats.”

  “I’m not old,” my father said a little dejected.

  “But I am?” My mother’s harassed expression made me giggle.

  “Gordita…” he hedged. “You are just as beautiful as the day I met you.”

  My mother rolled her eyes and the familiar banter actually made me feel relieved. I was dating again, it wasn’t an act of Congress.

  “This boy—”

  “He’s twenty-seven, so I think calling him a boy is sort of insulting.”

  My father narrowed his eyes at my interruption and asked, “When do we get to meet him?”

  I averted my eyes and started loading the tray with chips and salsa before I moved to the soda machine.

  “Melissa.” Mom had always been good at drawing out each syllable of my name like I was toddler.

  I filled one glass with ice and Coke and brought it over to the tray before meeting my parents’ curious gazes. Where was Maria when I needed her? She’d met Kieran, maybe she could whet their appetite for knowledge.

  “It’s really new. We’ve only been on a few dates…” And fucked like bunnies last night and this morning. “Maybe I’ll invite him to go with us to church.” I wouldn’t.

  This seemed to appease them because my mom strolled over to the line window and grabbed two plates filled with beans, rice, and tacos from under the warmer. Dad finally stopped stabbing me with questioning eyes.

  “Maria said he was very handsome, young, but handsome.” My mom gave me a small smile.

  “Why does Maria get to meet him?” my dad asked and then swore in Spanish under his breath.

  “It was a fluke,” I argued.

  I wanted to protest. Tell them I was almost thirty years old. That they didn’t get to gossip about me behind my back anymore. But for once they were asking me about my love life in a way that didn’t have guilt riding my spine.

  “Have you met his parents?” my dad asked.

  My pulse skipped a beat. I’d never get to meet his parents. “His parents passed away.”

  A small, strangled sound gasped from my mother’s mouth. “That’s terrible.”

  I nodded. “So, maybe lay off a bit, okay. His mom died last spring.”

  “His father?” My dad linked his hand with my mom’s and my throat narrowed.

  “A while ago.”

  I walked over to my dad and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Let me get to know him a little more before we bring him into our crazy family?”

  My mother’s soft smile reached her eyes as she watched us. My father gently tugged on my braid. “If he’s a smart boy, he’ll do whatever it takes to be a part of this crazy family.”

  My father had no idea how smart Kieran was, but I did, and I tried not to let that scare me.

  “He fell asleep on the weight of a woman and woke up tied to the sky.”

  Hayley Stumbo~

  There was something to be said about the side effects of sex and how once you’ve laid yourself out there for someone, there’s no turning back. Not that I wanted to, but I found it hard to concentrate on a minute-to-minute basis when Melissa wasn’t around and wishing that she was. I’d find myself lost in thoughts, pen to paper, and three pages later I’d wake up from my daydreams and read what I’d written. It was an out-of-body experience every time. Who wrote those words? She had me writing with a vivid, elicit, raw hand. I’d reread the passages over and over again and wonder how I’d never once been able to write like that before her. It was only after the nights she stayed over that the words leaked from the pencil as if the faucet inside my brain had no off switch.

  And I loved it, l
oved…

  Liam’s raucous laughter saved me from myself, saved me from thinking foolishly again, and brought my surroundings back into focus. The table I’d been sitting at for the past fifteen minutes was filled with food and family. Liam’s apartment smelled like cinnamon, sage, apples, and warmth. Paige and Kelly had spent all morning cooking while my brothers and I were forced to sit on the couch and watch football. Forced. I think I was the only one Kelly had to yell at to “get the hell out” of her kitchen.

  “See what I mean, he’s like a teenaged girl over there.” Liam’s smart mouth lifted my eyes from my plate.

  My brother’s lack of filter, those stern appraising eyes, he had a way of stripping a man to his core, and I could feel the flush in my cheeks as everyone stared at me. But, I recovered quickly, like I always did, and stuffed away my boyish embarrassment.

  “What stupid shit are you talking now?” I asked with a sly smirk and it made Kelly laugh and it pissed Liam off.

  Win number one.

  “I think…” Kelly sipped from her glass of white wine. “What Liam was trying to say, is that you’re a little head over heels for Mel.”

  “Maybe,” I admitted with a nonchalant shrug, but I was feeling anything but. Melissa had changed me… turned me inside out.

  We’d practically spent every night together since I’d stayed over at her place almost two weeks ago. Things between us had been moving fast, but I loved it. Loved waking up with her in my arms. Loved smelling her on my skin, my sheets. Loved how her toothbrush had found its way into my bathroom. We always seemed to blame the icy roads, or the late hour. “Might as well stay,” I’d say. Or “I don’t want you driving in this shit.” Both being true, but I loved just being with her, too. The feelings I had for her were becoming something bigger, more infinite, and maybe it should’ve worried me, but I welcomed it, welcomed her inside my heart and my head.

  “She’s at his place every damn night.” Liam lowered his eyes with a smirk before shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

  When I’d bucked up and told Liam about being with Melissa, he’d given me advice instead of giving me shit. He’d told me, over our usual morning coffee, to be careful, that love was half hope and half fear. Hope that the feeling inside your heart would never fade, and fear that the feeling might not have been real in the first place.

  “Don’t mix that shit up, little brother. Sex is sex. Love is an entirely different beast. Have fun, be safe, and know when to walk away if that feeling in your heart fades… don’t fucking stay because you think you should, or because you think you owe shit to anyone. Take care of you…”

  Those words of wisdom came with a hard punch to the shoulder and a box of condoms that he’d stashed in his workstation ages ago. He hadn’t asked for any details, and he spared me the awkward jokes at my expense. Maybe I’d been feeling nostalgic that morning, the first morning after getting laid could do that to a guy, but he’d treated me like I was his son instead of his brother, and instead of annoying me, it had felt pretty damn good.

  “I’m excited to meet her,” Paige said with a genuine smile in her voice, and I turned my gaze. “I’m starting the mural at Irene’s on Monday. It’s her first day, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, she’s nervous as hell, but don’t tell her I said anything.”

  Paige laughed and the sound of it made Declan smile. Ever since Kelly had asked Paige to paint a mural on the back wall of the main room of the shelter, Paige’s baby blues had seemed to slowly disappear. Declan had told me just the other day Paige was going on about having a purpose, getting out more, and he’d said she was starting to get better day by day. The smile on her face, and the way it turned her alabaster cheeks pink was proof enough she was on the mend.

  “I won’t say a word,” Paige promised and shifted Royal from her left side to her right and settled him on her lap.

  Declan kissed the top of Indie’s head. She was sitting in his lap blowing spit bubbles and when I chuckled, he gave me his full attention. “Is Melissa with her family today?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but she works tonight, so they had dinner earlier.”

  “She has to work on Thanksgiving?” Paige asked with a furrow in her brow.

  “It’s her last night.” I said with more enthusiasm than I should’ve, and I immediately felt guilty.

  It was her last night at The Western, and I couldn’t help that I was somewhat relieved. I cared about Melissa, and some primitive part of my soul hated that she had to cater to men as if she gave two shits about them. Melissa wasn’t property, I knew she wasn’t mine, but she was a part of me now, she was special to me and deserved so much more than a dirty little spot behind the bar.

  “She’s off early though, right?” Kelly asked, and I nodded.

  “Yup, and I’m supposed to save her some pie, so keep the pumpkin pie away from Liam’s fat ass.”

  Liam gave me the middle finger, and I laughed as he growled, “Fuck off.”

  “Guys!” Kelly almost squeaked. “There are children at the table.”

  “Don’t bother, Kelly. At this rate, their first words will be R-rated if Liam has anything to do with it.” Declan’s smile reached his eyes and Paige just shook her head with a soft giggle.

  “I’ll take them to church with me, Declan, it will all even out,” I joked and the table erupted with laughter again.

  It wasn’t long before everyone broke off into their own side conversations, and I was left to my own thoughts again. The snow was falling outside, and the city lights reflected colorful prisms through the frozen flakes as I looked out the open, floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the back wall of Liam’s place. The city seemed motionless and cool, but this room, this apartment, it was heated with words and love and family, and even though this was the first Thanksgiving without my mother, our mother, it wasn’t a somber event. She was present in Declan’s eyes, and in Liam’s smile, in my heart. Each one of us boys had our beliefs, but sitting here, watching the happiness hover over the table like an ethereal fog, I had no doubt she was here with us.

  It wasn’t until an hour later while Declan and I pulled cleaning duty in the kitchen, that one of us would finally mention her.

  “I wish Mom could’ve been here,” Declan said in a low whisper as he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I know. Me, too.”

  “We should’ve said grace.” His watery blue eyes found mine.

  “It’s Liam’s place, and it’s not his thing.” I clapped Declan on the shoulder and gave him a quiet smile. “I said it in my head though.”

  Declan’s chuckle made my pulse jump. “Me, too.”

  “See, we covered our bases.”

  “We stopped by the cemetery on our way over today. Paige put two pumpkins on her gravestone.”

  “Pumpkins?”

  He laughed and took a deep breath as he pushed off the counter. “Yeah, one said happy and the other said Thanksgiving.”

  “Paige is good people.”

  He nodded and lifted his chin. “Melissa… is she good people?”

  Something inside my chest squeezed so tightly it stole my breath. My stomach felt light as I answered, “I think so.” My lips spread involuntarily into a slow grin.

  Declan’s eyes smiled. “Liam told me about… that you…”

  “Fucking, Liam. He’s like a high school chick. I bet the whole shop knows.”

  Declan shook his head as he laughed. “Nah, if they know it’s only because they watch her leave every morning.”

  I huffed out an exhale. “It’s not a big deal.”

  He raised a brow. “It’s not? You went twenty-seven years without, and now…”

  “I like her.”

  More than I should. Liam’s whole “love is half hope and half fear” bullshit started to make sense.

  “I think you’ve stepped beyond the word like.” He playfully shoved my shoulder as he moved toward the sink. “But I fell in love
with Paige the day she gifted me her gaze, so what the fuck do I know.”

  He knew more than any of us. Declan was honesty. He was truth without fear. He was human without any type of artifice. And he had me pegged. I had been fighting over words in my head for the past few days. Lust and love. Their meanings stirred inside my stomach as we finished cleaning. I wanted to be full-speed ahead in Melissa’s life, and maybe thinking over definitions and labels was a waste of time. I was in her life. She’d been in my bed nightly, for crying out loud. Maybe I had fallen for Mel the day she’d gifted me her gaze in that stuffy old cathedral after all.

  “I want what you and Paige have,” I said, and he turned to look at me.

  The soft lines around Declan’s eyes crinkled as he smiled bigger than I ever thought possible. “Then never, ever, let her go.”

  My eyes closed briefly and the picture flashed behind my lids. It was her smile, her hair, and how it always billowed across the sheets of my bed, her dimples, just for me, and those dark eyes, and how they always seemed to hold me in place, level, and relieved.

  My eyes opened and met Declan’s. When I said the words, everything inside my heart clicked, and a new rhythm snapped into place. “I won’t.”

  Melissa moaned and all the blood in my body drained to my groin.

  “You’re even sexy when you’re shoveling your face with pie,” I said with a grin, and Melissa glared at me from across the breakfast bar.

  “I do not shovel.” She smiled around another large forkful of pumpkin pie. “This is just so damn good.”

  An easy laugh split my lips and my chest filled with heat. “You’re lucky I was able to save you a few slices. Liam is a bastard when it comes to dessert.”

  “Isn’t he always a bastard?”

  “You speak the truth.”

  Her eyes darkened and she lowered them to her plate. I wasn’t sure what I’d said, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin the mood. I moved around the counter and stood next to where she sat on the stool. I lifted her chin and smiled at the stray bit of whipped cream she had on the corner of her lips. I leaned down and licked the seam of her mouth, tasting her along with the nutmeg and cream.

 

‹ Prev