Complicated

by Kristen Ashley

  “I’ll come with you,” he said gently.

  She made a move to pull from his hold but he pressed his thumbs under her jaw and she halted.

  “I love you,” he told her.

  “I love you too. And I love my brother. And we got it down to a tag-team art to make hella-good homemade pizza. So get a move on, smokey.”

  He examined her face and saw she’d gotten over it after what her mother did to her ex.

  She wasn’t in a place where Tawnee Dare could harm her anymore. The fact that Tawnee Dare wouldn’t be physically in a location she could try to harm her was irrelevant.

  Greta had made it through the seventh circle.

  And now she was free.

  “We have another Christmas surprise, sugar,” he reminded her.

  Her expression turned curious. “We do?”

  “Andy’s bedroom.”

  She melted into him, her arms finally going around him. “He knows you’re setting that up for him, Hixon.”

  “He knows, but it’s now set up and he hasn’t seen it yet.”

  She grinned and gave him a squeeze. “You’re right. We do have a surprise. Because he’s gonna love the comforter Mamie and Corinne chose for him.”

  That surprised Hix because Andy might have a TBI but he was still very much a guy.

  “He will?”

  “He won’t care even a little bit, until we tell him Mamie and Corinne picked it. Then he’ll make a big deal out of loving it.”

  That, Hix had learned, was undoubtedly true.

  Hix had no idea about Greta and Andy’s fathers, he knew too much about their mother, so he figured it was down to that grit Tawnee Dare mentioned that Greta had that made her brother fall not far from his sister’s tree.

  He dug his fingers into her neck gently and said, “Let’s go get your brother.”

  She blinded him with a smile and replied, “Yeah, let’s go get Andy.”

  He kissed her. He walked her out to his Bronco.

  And even if she didn’t want to rejoice, that bitch was gone, so he did.

  Thus as a celebration, for the first time in his life with his ass in his Bronc, he let someone else drive her.

  And he was in no doubt Greta was the one.

  But how much she loved driving his baby proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

  “I was close.”

  “Mm,” he mumbled, sliding a hand over the curve of her ass.

  The scary thing was, she had been.

  Close to winning.

  Then again, he’d been dazzled by his Boxing Day present, a skintight, red lace teddy with fluffy, white feather trim at hips and chest, little straps over the shoulders, crisscross ribbons between her tits and even a thin, red-velvet belt with a tiny rhinestone buckle.

  Watching her walk into his bedroom wearing that, he hadn’t even paid attention when she tossed a tube of lube on the bed.

  His attention didn’t come back seeing as she tossed it then crawled to him in that getup with her tits almost hanging out and he had to devote his attention to all of that.

  So she’d laid down the gauntlet for their rematch, immediately got the upper hand and it took a while for her to lose it.

  This was why they were both covered in a sheen of sweat, on their stomachs, flat out across his bed, and he’d just slid out of her ass after making her come taking it then coming himself really fucking hard giving it.

  She was hot up there. Unbelievably tight. And she’d gone wild with his hands on her, his mouth on her, drilling her into the bed with his cock up her ass.

  It was Hix’s best Christmas present ever, bar none.

  Starting with the teddy.

  He slid two fingers through her crevice and held her there, murmuring, “You good?”

  She turned her head on her arms, her mass of curls shifting with it, and gave him her big, blue eyes.

  “You up for a bath?”

  He grinned at the look on her face that gave him his answer as well as her question. “Yup.”

  She grinned back and he slid his hand up and over, smoothing it on her hip.

  “After a recovery bath, loser gives winner a colossal blowjob,” he informed her.

  She frowned even if her eyes flared. “That wasn’t the deal.”

  “Winner gets to say the deal after he wins.”

  She started pouting. “You’re a terrible sport, Hix.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It’s not how you lose that tells the tale, it’s the class you show when you win,” she educated him.

  He leaned in and kissed her shoulder, saying there, “Maybe you can show me that if you win someday.”

  “It’s good I love you,” she groused.

  He lifted his lips from her shoulder, looked her dead in the eye, and there was no teasing in his voice when he said, “I know.”

  The pique went out of her face and her eyes got bright. “Don’t make me cry.”

  He shifted so he could pull her slightly under his body, but keep his place on his stomach and put his face in hers.

  “I’ll never make you cry,” he vowed.

  “Happy tears,” she told him.

  “Never,” he whispered, moved in and touched his mouth to hers.

  Hers opened so he took the touch into a full-blown kiss.

  When he pulled away, she didn’t look like she was going to cry anymore.

  There.

  All better.

  “Did you like your present, baby?” she whispered.

  “Are you in doubt, baby?” he whispered back.

  “No.”

  He touched his nose to hers and held her gaze.

  “Hated hearin’ you never had a dream, sweetheart,” he shared gently.

  She tightened. “Hix, don’t bring her—”

  “But I figure,” he cut her off, “when you’re a walking, talking, singing dream come true, you don’t get it the other way around.”

  Her eyes got bright again. “Shit, totally gonna cry.”

  He grinned again and moved his hand to cup her ass and give it a squeeze. “None of that.”

  “Boss,” she muttered, pulling it together.

  “I’ll run the bath,” he murmured in return.

  “I’ll lounge here and let you run the bath.”

  He pulled back an inch, thinking how hard she’d come.

  “Don’t fall asleep,” he ordered.

  Her brows shot together in insult. “Would I fall asleep?”

  “Not with the promise of sucking me off on our agenda.”

  “You like that more than me, Hixon.”

  “Considering you’ll be sittin’ on my face doin’ it, I’m not sure that’s true.”

  That got him another eye flare.

  “Bath,” she ordered.

  “Boss,” he muttered, kissed her nose and moved out of the bed.

  He ran their bath. He made it nice and hot.

  Then he walked out and smiled to himself when Greta let out a surprised scream as he grabbed her ankle, dragged her off the bed and threw her over his shoulder.

  “You fell asleep,” he accused, his woman’s ass in the air, her body draped over his shoulder, walking to the bathroom.

  “Whatever,” she replied to his back.

  They entered the bathroom with Hix still smiling.

  I Win

  Greta

  “BABE!”

  “Coming!” I shouted, sitting on the side of my bed, slipping up the zip on my boot.

  I dashed into the closet, grabbed a black pashmina, my black leather gloves, then I dashed out, through the room and down the stairs.

  I found Hix in the kitchen, fridge open, bent with his face in it, wearing a dark gray suit, his overcoat thrown on my kitchen island.

  “Hey,” I greeted.

  He straightened as he closed the fridge door and turned to me.

  Dark-green shirt, green and gray patterned tie.

  Handsome.

  I walked to him, asking, “Are y
ou hungry?”

  He looked to the fridge then back to me, putting his hands to my waist when I arrived at him.

  “Habit,” he muttered.

  “Ah,” I replied.

  He studied my face.

  “You okay?” he asked gently.

  “I didn’t know the man, Hix,” I reminded him, resting my hands still holding my scarf and gloves to his chest.

  “I know, but you know his wife and all funerals are rough. This one . . .” He didn’t finish that, but I got him.

  Three nights before, Mrs. Whitney’s husband had slid into the eternal sleep that was far more eternal than the eternal sleep he was in already.

  It was odd to think of the death of someone as a relief. However, Mr. Whitney had died long ago, so as odd as it was, it was still true, which made it difficult in a different way because, even if that might be logical to have that feeling, it still didn’t seem right.

  “I’ll feel better when I see her and how she’s handling it,” I told him. “We spoke on the phone but she sounded understandably preoccupied. It’ll be good to get a handle on where she’s at.”

  He nodded.

  I gave him a small smile and started to move out of his hold, but stopped when his fingers tightened.

  “We got a few minutes, and after this goes down, I gotta get changed and back to work, so need to tell you something now,” he shared.

  I nodded and it was my turn to study him.

  It was mid-February but something had been bothering Hixon and that something started bothering him right after Christmas.

  It became more pronounced around January fourteenth, Corinne’s birthday, her sweet sixteen.

  I got the idea that a father had issues with his daughter becoming more of a woman, especially since that daughter now had a boyfriend. I also understood that, this being the first event where the families had to officially merge—Andy, Lou, her brood and me going to the party because Corinne wanted us there, a party that had Hope and all her brood there—that this would cause everyone, especially Hix, some unease.

  I couldn’t say it’d gone great. Hope, Lou, Jessie, Molly and I hadn’t stood in a corner and cackled like the sisterhood we were.

  I couldn’t say it was a bust. I’d been nice but distant, as Hope made it clear she wished me to be, even though she too had been nice but distant. And Molly had clearly gotten Reed’s head out of his ass about things so he’d been civil.

  It still was awkward. But it didn’t appear Corinne felt it at all.

  I thought once that occasion was done, Hix would relax.

  He hadn’t.

  February third had rolled around, Shaw’s eighteenth (we’d just say it was a one, two, three punch with the Drakes: Christmas, Corinne’s birthday, then Shaw’s—fortunately Mamie’s birthday was June third so there was a breather).

  Again, it was a momentous occasion, his son officially becoming, for all intents and purposes, a man.

  Hix showed pride, affection and obvious emotion at that birthday party that, at Shaw’s request, had been split. His dad, Andy, his sisters and me for dinner. His mom and her family for a big weekend do, with Shaw and the girls going to Hope’s house for a few hours before we had dinner and cake at Hix’s in order to share some time with his mom on his big day.

  But two weeks had passed since then and Hix’s manner hadn’t changed.

  And it was beginning to dawn on me that it was Corinne becoming a woman, with the unavoidable threat of Mamie not being too far behind (she’d started her period, another hit for Hix that he couldn’t ignore that his kids were growing up).

  However, it was mostly Shaw.

  It wasn’t about him being officially a man.

  It was about him intending to be the man he intended to be and that being official.

  Shaw had an appointment to go to the marine recruiting office with Hix in a couple of weeks.

  And that was where it was at.

  Every day that passed was a day closer to him losing his boy, him losing his boy to the marines and the marines taking over the process of making Shaw into the man he’d become.

  I had no idea how to make things better for Hix, and in wracking my brain, it was becoming apparent that there was no way to make things better.

  He had to ride this out. It was inevitable. He had to see it through, support his son. In the meantime, I just had to be there for him, keep a finger on his pulse and do what I could to see Hix through.

  So this could be anything. Hix didn’t hide the fact he was aware his kids were getting older and going about their own lives and he wanted them to do that responsibly, but he also wanted them to know they’d always be his kids and he’d be there for them. Alternately, he did hide (from all of them but me, though he didn’t tell me outright) that he was struggling with it.

  I wanted him to open up to me. I also didn’t want to open up a dialogue about it with him if he was dealing or he just didn’t want to talk about it yet.

  Hix was communicative. He shared. You didn’t have to guess about stuff with Hix. If it meant something to him, you knew.

  But if he wasn’t ready to talk, you waited.

  “Owners of my house got in touch with my real estate agent,” he announced.

  That I wasn’t expecting.

  “Yeah?” I prompted when that was all he said.

  “Their son got a transfer. He’s moving from Virginia to Florida. They have a kid, the wife is pregnant again. They’ll be living about an hour away.”

  I arched into him, getting excited. “Really?”

  He grinned down at me. “They’re asking for an offer.”

  “They haven’t even experienced a full Florida summer yet with its attendant humidity,” I pointed out, some of my excitement melting away.

  “That’s not my concern, babe. They have experienced most a Florida winter and I’m thinkin’ they dig it. I’m thinkin’ they dig more the idea of close proximity with their son and his growing family so I’d guess they’ll learn to put up with humidity. But if they’re ready to let go of the house, I’m jumpin’ on that.”

  “Totally,” I agreed.

  “And I want you there.”

  “Of course. That house is perfect for you. Close to work. Close to Hope for the kids. Lots of space for everybody. Why would I not—?”

  “No, babe,” his hands slid from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me closer to him, “I want you there. We come to terms, I buy that house, I want you to move in with us.”

  I stared up at him.

  He wasn’t done speaking.

  “And Greta, I want you to think on it, it’s your choice, but when you do that, I want you sellin’ this place. We’ll talk about furniture because I prefer your dining room table to mine. You got some other great stuff that’d fit. But the rest you can let go and invest all the money you make on it so you can breathe easy about Andy permanently.”

  Throughout this, I didn’t stop staring at him.

  However, it didn’t matter.

  Hix still wasn’t finished.

  “And I’ll state plain I got more than the obvious reasons for askin’ you to think about that. But I’ll point out the obvious just to make sure you know. I love you. I’m sure about how I feel about having a future with you, and by that I mean I’m sure I want a future with you. And this two-house stuff is gettin’ old. I like this place. The kids do. But I want you in my bed every night and I don’t want you to have to lug your Crockpot or griddle or whatever over every time you’re cookin’ up something that you need them. Most important, it’s time we got serious about this. It’s time to take that next step, because that step’s gonna lead to the next one and I wanna move on through all of them with you. But the reason that might not be obvious I want you to let go of this place is your ex gave you this house and I’m down with him providing for Andy because of who he is to your brother. But where we’re at, you’re mine. So I’m not down with him providing for you.”

  “Hix—” I for
ced out, having to force it because I was dealing with all he’d said, all it made me feel, how awesome all that was, but I got no further.

  “That’s where I’m at. You’ll call it alpha-male behavior and I’m okay with that. It is. And that’s who I am. You need to know how I feel and I gotta share that honesty. That said, if you think on it and you love this place and you wanna open up the possibility of me and my kids movin’ here, we’ll talk. I’ll listen, sweetheart. I swear it. You love your porch. Your street. You want it, I’ll see if I have it in me to give it to you. But to do that, I might have to let go of my place so the owners can sell it and I still want us takin’ the next step, wherever that step will lead us.”

  When I had my shot, I responded immediately.

  “You buy your place, I’ll sell this place, Hix.”

  His chin jerked into his throat. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  His brows drew together. “That easy?” he asked.

  “Your street is the same as my street in all the ways that are important. And I love this house, but your kitchen is bigger, it’s nicer. And the kids are settled in.”

  “Your bathrooms are nicer.”

  “Your bathrooms aren’t awful, but you can gut a bathroom and make it pretty. We have room to put Mamie’s barre in my basement, but the floors in yours are wood so she can dance there and mine are carpeted. There also isn’t a bedroom down there for Shaw or a man cave for you.” I pressed my scarf and gloves into his chest and grinned up at him. “And if it bothers the alpha, I don’t wanna prod that beast.”

  His eyes warmed, his face going soft. “You wanna stay here, baby, honest, you make that case, I’ll find a way to be cool with it.”

  God, but I loved him.

  “I failed to mention your mudroom and attached garage,” I noted.

  “Babe—”

  “It’s a house,” I whispered. “And yes, it’s the house that Keith bought me. And after what happened, where he is, how he’s made it clear he’s not gonna go back on what he said and find some way to make things all right between us again, for us or for us to share our love for Andy, I’m where you’re at in a way. It’s a reminder of that. And that isn’t a pleasant reminder. But more, if it bugs you, I can’t have that. So it’s a house, Hixon.” I pressed even closer and lowered my voice so he’d understand how much I meant what I said next. “I’m all in for taking the next step. I’m also all in, doing that, leaving behind what needs to be left behind so we can move forward through the rest of them.”