by L. M. Carr
“I haven’t come with you yet.”
My face flushes red and my body sizzles. “Fiend!”
He responds with a slow nod of agreement.
The sexual chemistry between us is undeniable; it’s really only a matter of time before I end up in his bed.
“Behave!” I demand. “My older brothers will see right through your bullshit and eat you alive.”
“Eat me alive?” he cocks an eyebrow and grins wickedly. “Isn’t that my job?”
“Getting out now!” I open the door, jump out and retrieve my bag from the back seat.
After retrieving his own bags, he jogs next to me where we walk alongside each other and make our way to the front of the house. Warm, fall-colored hearty mums greet us on both side of the wide steps.
I notice Andrew stops abruptly so I turn to face him. “What are you doing now?”
“Wow! This is...” he mutters beneath his breath as he takes in the beauty of the lake surrounded by the mountains.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
Turning his head to look at me, he agrees with a genuine smile. “Yes. You grew up here?”
“I sure did,” I reply, climbing the few steps which lead to a huge wrap-around porch. My fingertips graze over the worn wood of one of the Adirondack chairs that face the pristine, cool water.
“I could almost picture you running around here all sweaty and dirty with skinned knees like a little tomboy.”
My hand freezes on the front door and I look over my shoulder. “Tomboy, huh? You have no idea how dirty I can be.”
The look on his face is priceless when my words shock him, causing his mouth to pop open and then close immediately. Those blue eyes darken with lust, desire and promise. I feel his hand tug on the crook of my elbow as he pulls me close. I feel the heat of his breath at the nape of my neck until his lips are at my ear.
He whispers, “A hundred buck says I find out by the end of this weekend...”
“You’re on!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I wrestle with every fiber of my being to refrain from turning around completely and smashing my lips against his even though my body is aching to feel him. His challenging words are an invitation I cannot—should not—accept. But God do I want to!
Andrew Darling will be the death of me of this I am sure.
“Morgan!” my mother calls out, “You’re here!”
My head whips around to face my mother and I pray my lustful eyes and the look of desire on my face for the man standing behind me dissipates into thin air.
“Hi, Mom!” I stammer nervously as though I’ve been caught doing something wrong. Smiling to disguise my desirous state, I cast my eyes away for a moment, wondering if the flush of my cheeks or the heat radiating from my body is a dead giveaway.
I feel the release of Andrew’s hand on my arm and I miss its absence immediately when my mother engulfs my body into a massive hug. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“It hasn’t been that long, Mom,” I quickly remind her, closing my eyes for a moment to gather my bearings.
When I’m set free from her embrace, she looks over my shoulder and smiles at the man who wants to fuck me senseless. “And who’s this?” she sings. I purse my lips and roll my eyes when I see the gleam in her big brown eyes. Stepping to the side, I introduce my guest and speak at the same time that Andrew thrusts his hand out. “Andrew Da—”
“Mom, this is Andrew.” I announce, placing my hand on his bicep casually as I send her a look, silently imploring that she understand who he is without having me declare his last name. It’ll just make things even more awkward.
Andrew flicks a quick glance to his arm then back at me and grins, knowing my inability to keep my hands to myself is becoming quite a struggle. I swallow thickly and drop my hand casually.
The warm smile on my mom’s face slips and transforms into a hard line. A sympathetic smile, riddled with pity settles in place.
“Oh,” she breathes.
With widened eyes and a subtle shake of my head, I warn her.
Either she doesn’t catch my drift or she chooses to ignore it.
“Oh, Andrew,” she sighs. “I’m so sorry to hear about your parents. Morgan tells me they were wonderful people.”
Andrew nods, darting his eyes from my mother’s to mine before speaking. “That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he mumbles. “You never know when it might be your last day on earth so we have to live each day as it comes and seize every opportunity that presents itself. Carpe diem.” His eyes cut to mine and I understand his silent suggestion.
“Oh, yes. I agree,” my mom sighs, stepping forward to close the space.
Overcome with the need to save him from an awkward and uncomfortable motherly hug, I throw him a lifeline, exclaiming that we’ve not yet eaten lunch and are famished. With a final sympathetic smile, my mother clasps her hands together and brings them to her heart. “Well, put your things down and come eat. Gabe is outside with Dad and I’m sure they’re hungry too.”
I thank my mother as Andrew and I set our bags down by the staircase which leads to the second floor where the three bedrooms are.
Andrew’s arm locks around my waist and I yelp as his fingers splay across my stomach and he yanks my body flush against his front. Angling my head, my eyes grow wide then close when I feel his breath at my ear. “Do you like teasing me?”
Our eyes connect for the faintest moment and I lift my chin, moving my lips closer to his.
A quiet groan emerges from his throat. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
My cheek pulls back into a slight smile. “Good. Now you know exactly how I feel.”
Stepping away quickly when the sound of my mother’s footstep draws closer, Andrew returns to his previous position and glances at the coffee-colored wall.
“Oh God! Please don’t look at those! It’s embarrassing!” I plead and press my hands against his solid abs when I notice he’s still perusing the collage of family photos. Images upon images line the walls; each one chronicling a moment of time in our family’s history.
“What are you doing?” I screech when he covers my hand with his own and starts the slow, southward journey. A look of complete mischief sparkles in his beautiful blues. “You like touching me, don’t you?”
“I do not!” I counter.
“Okay.” He winks. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Know what I keep telling myself?”
He grins and swipes his tongue across his lips. “What’s that?”
“That you’re an entitled pain in the ass!”
The sound of Andrew’s light laughter makes me smile and I wish I could hear it more often.
“Holy shit! You guys have a lot of pictures,” he quips, although beneath his intended humor, I detect an ounce of unease or envy in his voice.
“My mom thinks she’s a photographer,” I laugh to hide the sadness in my heart thinking about the lack of family photos in the Darling residence.
Walking into the kitchen, Andrew follows me and I find my mom closing the refrigerator door also covered with magnetic picture frames.
“Morgan, honey, will you bring this down to your brother?” my mom asks, handing me a small dish piled high with thick slices of American, Vermont cheddar and Swiss cheeses.
“Sure,” I reply, looking back to silently ask Andrew if he wants to come with me or not.
He replies confidently, “I’m good.”
Apprehension fills me as I walk outside to where my brother, Gabriel, is flipping hamburger patties on the charcoal grill. The grease sizzles and sends orange flames high into the air while smoke seeps through the closed lid.
“Please don’t singe your eyebrows again!” I tease, mussing his dark brown hair.
Gabe leans over and offers his cheek. “Hey, sis.”
I lean in and kiss my brother’s cheek, feeling the heat of the grill on his face. “Hi! Where are Molly and Connor?”
“Home. They might co
me by later, but the baby’s been a bear all week.”
“Here.” I hold out the dish for him but take a small step back quickly when another flame shoots into the air again. “Good thing we have a fireman in the family.”
“Thanks. Very funny,” he says, lifting the lid and placing a slice of each type of cheese to the patties.
“Those look amazing!”
“Of course they do!” he laughs. “How long are you here for? Connor’s gotten so big.”
“I can imagine.” Sighing sadly because I don’t see my nephew nearly as much as I would like to, I glance out at the lake before returning my attention to my brother. “We’ll probably head out tomorrow afternoon.”
“We?” Gabe asks with a cocked brow and wide brown eyes. “Is Toni with you?”
I laugh at the hope in his voice and shake my head. “No. Dude, how many times have I told you she likes chicks not dicks?”
He tsks. “Always the gorgeous ones.”
“Dude, you’re off the market anyway!”
Gabe shakes his head playfully. “Not until she marries me.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it!”
My brother grins and uses a long spatula to transfer the cheeseburgers onto a platter.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask, again looking toward the water where small waves crash against the shore.
Gabe motions with his chin. “He’s next door helping Mason with his boat.”
I gulp and my eyes widen into round saucers. “Mason’s here?”
“You didn’t know? He moved back after his divorce.”
My voice rises. “He got divorced?” I haven’t seen my childhood best friend turned high school boyfriend in years.
“Maybe if you came home more often you’d know.”
Guilt floods my conscience. For so many years while married to Sean, I missed spending time with my family because my ex-husband insisted that he should be my number one priority. On the rare occasions that I fought and won, Sean made our stay so uncomfortable and he was quick to offer lame excuses as to why we had to head home early.
Thank God I’m divorced. The idea that I’ll never have to choose between my family and a man lifts my spirits. I roll my eyes at my brother. “Shut up, Gabby. Maybe if you packed up your family and left this town, you’d see there’s a big world out there.”
“Whatever you say, Porgie Morgie.”
Laughing at the God-awful childhood nickname, I walk back toward the house and then stop, calling over my shoulder. “Hey, why aren’t you helping Mason? He’s your best friend.”
He shrugs. “I think Mason is trying to get on Dad’s good side again. Who knows...he might be trying to get some information about you after he found out that you were coming up this weekend.”
Waving my hand in the air, I snort. “Oh God, please! That ship sailed and sank a long time ago.”
“What ship sank?” Andrew asks when he meets me on the back deck.
“Nothing,” I lie and avoid his eyes. “You survived my mom?” I ask, changing the subject with a smile.
“Yeah, she’s nice.”
“I hope it wasn’t too awkward,” I whisper apologetically.
Andrew grins crookedly, arrogance seeping from his pores. “I’m actually pretty good with the ladies.”
The memory of Paige’s voicemail about last night infiltrates my mind and instantly sours my mood. “Yeah, so I’ve heard.”
Andrew stares at me while his eyes search for something. A moment later, his gaze drops to my mouth, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath.
My heart is pounding in my chest and my belly flip-flops with anticipation.
“Cheeseburgers are done—” Gabe calls, his tall body freezing on the last step. “Who are you? The token gay friend?”
My eyelids close and I inhale. Releasing the breath, I open my eyes and turn to my brother. “You’re an asshole,” I mumble under my breath. “Gabe, this is Andrew. Andrew, this is my brother, Gabriel.”
I notice Andrew’s jaw tightens, and the creases between his eyebrows deepen.
“Ignore my brother; it’s obvious my mother dropped him on his head lots of times.”
Switching the platter filled with cheeseburgers to his left hand, my brother grins and returns Andrew’s handshake but doesn’t release his hold quickly. “You fucking around with my little sister?”
“Gabe!?” I screech then cry, “Cut the shit!”
Laughter erupts from my brother’s lips. “I’m just kidding. You’re not her type...but you might be Trav—”
Humiliation washes over me. “Gabe! Stop being a jerk!”
Andrew looks back and forth between my brother and me, probably wondering what’s going on.
Gabe winks as he passes then adds, “Relax, sis. I love embarrassing you, making you turn all red and shit. It’s hilarious watching you squirm.”
I huff and grit my teeth, finally looking at Andrew. “Don’t mind him.”
Andrew shrugs then turns back with a salacious grin on his face. “Seems your brother and I have something in common.”
Confusion wrinkles my face. “What’s that?”
“I like to watch you squirm, too.”
Shock parts my lips as I gasp. Finally when I find my voice and I’m able to speak, I cast my eyes at him. “Remind me why I asked you to come again.”
“You like when I come.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear as I brush past him and step into the kitchen, asking my mother how I can help. Standing outside with Andrew for another second was going to lead to me dragging him out to the shed and begging him to bury himself between my legs.
What is wrong with me?
“Are you okay?” my mom asks after commenting on my flushed cheeks.
“I’m fine.”
Oh, God. It’s going to be a long two days.
♦♦♦
Sitting across from my brother and my dad, I am sandwiched in between Andrew and my mom on the long wooden picnic table a few hundred feet from the water.
Enjoying the crisp late autumn breeze, we enjoy an outdoor lunch customary for the Fourth of July. Biting into the triple cheese layered burger, ketchup squeezes out as I moan my delight and praise my brother’s masterful skill at the grill.
My mother leans over and quietly chastises me for talking with my mouth full especially in front of my guest then shoves a napkin in my direction. “Wipe your mouth.”
I roll my eyes and reach for the bottle of water, taking a swig to wash down the food. “Seriously, Mom?” I hitch my thumb at Andrew. “He doesn’t care, do you?”
A small grin appears. “Nah,” he chuckles. “Morgan knows I’m a pretty messy eater too. In fact, I’m kind of used to seeing her with a mouthful of one thing or another.”
Coughing and choking, a spray of water and half-chewed food particles fly from my mouth and cover my brother’s face.
Shocked and disgusted, my brother yells, “What the fuck?”
“Gabriel! Language!” my mother rebukes as she passes him a small handful of napkins.
“Oh my God, Gabe! I’m so sorry!” I laugh, apologizing while wiping my mouth with a balled up, ketchup stained napkin.
I glance over and want to slap that shit-eating grin off his face.
Shrugging his shoulders, Andrew chortles. “What?”
My father finally chimes in after having only said a few words to Andrew when I’d introduced them earlier. A quick word of condolence was given along with a hearty handshake. I was grateful in that moment that my dad has always been somewhat taciturn with people he doesn’t know.
“So Andrew,” my father starts, directing his attention to Andrew’s hat. “You’re a Broncos fan?”
Before Andrew can reply, his phone rings. He glances at it quickly and his expression hardens. After snapping his eyes to mine, Andrew silences the phone. He clears his throat and puts a smile back on his face before confirming his love and pride for the Denver team, but adding that he pref
ers Colorado hockey best.
“The Avalanche are like fourth in their division, aren’t they?” Gabe asks with a sense of superiority.
“Fifth actually,” Andrew answers my brother’s question with a chuckle then asks one of his own. “Do you skate?”
“I did.” Gabe nods and his face beams with pride. “Class M State Champs 2001.”
My mother boasts, reaching over to pat my brother’s hand. “He qualified for Salt Lake.”
“The 2002 Olympics? Damn, that’s quite an accomplishment,” Andrew praises while helping himself to another scoop of my mother’s delicious macaroni salad.
“Yeah, would’ve been even better if my knees held out.” Gabe shrugs nonchalantly, attempting to hide the disappointment, but I know him better than that. “One too many torn ACLs sidelined me for good.”
Discomfort blankets us until Gabe breaks the awkward silence. Looking at Andrew, he asks if he’s ever played.
Andrew responds with a nod and a smile. “Actually, I loved being on the ice, but my mother hated the trek to the rink. She’d wished I played baseball like—” His gaze falls before he clears his throat and continues. A quick shrug accompanies his words. “I stopped skating when I was about fourteen.”
The bottle of water stills on my bottom lip as I freeze mid-sip. It’s the first mention of his mother that is unsolicited and unprompted.
“Really?” I blurt, surprising even myself. “The way she talked about you...seemed like you were the center of her world and she would’ve done anything for you.”
Andrew uncaps the bottle of water and takes a large gulp. “Not quite.”
“That’s impossible, Andrew! Mark always said she was a wonderful mother.”
His lips tighten into a hard line, and he exhales in exasperation. As I search Andrew’s face, I look for a hint of emotion, anything at all, but I find nothing to reveal the pain of a man remembering life before he lost his parents.
Once again, a sense of uneasiness settles over us.
“Dessert, anyone?” my mom asks, standing quickly to remove herself from the uncomfortable situation when her voice cracks.
