Whatever she wants out of life she can have, as long as that life includes me with my name tacked on after hers and the three kids I can already see growing in her belly and sucking at her magnificent boobs.
“Well, my work here is done. Let’s go fire up the grill, guys. We have women to feed.”
I follow Storm and just catch myself from freezing when I feel eyes on me that are not those brown pools I love so dearly.
“Keep walking, knucklehead, I feel it too,” King mutters, not giving his tension away with so much as an eye blink as we get the grill going and stand around the grill, drinking beer and shooting the breeze.
We all feel it though—eyes, on us. For whatever reason, I know they aren’t pointed at us in malice. That’s my instinct talking again, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to grab Cleo and get her to the safety of the house.
“This is starting to chap my ass. First the shit with Cleo, which is still stumping me by the way, and now this turd is back watching us, as if he doesn’t think we know he’s there. I want to know who the hell he is and what his game is.”
“Me too, King, me too, but since it feels friendly and we aren’t any closer to knowing who or why, I say we just pretend he isn’t there and enjoy our Sunday barbecue. Don’t you spook my wife, man.”
His grunt is followed by mine, and I hang with them a few minutes more before turning and heading for the pool. I may not want him to know I feel him, but I will be damned if I stand here while my girl is out in the open. One bullet is all it would take, and I will be there to take it first if it comes to that.
“Hey! You big apes ready to stop lounging around and join the party?” Lenny laughs, as I slide into the water with a sigh and make my way over.
Cleo scuttles back some and keeps looking anywhere else but at me.
“Hmm, hot as the devil’s nuts out here, ladies. You use the sunblock?”
“Yes, mother, we lathered up real good, and I even put that greasy gunk on my perfect face. Now stop fussing. Cleo tells me her daddy keeps calling.”
I grunt a reply and position myself slowly, my back to the eyes, my body blocking most of the women as I relax and keep looking at Cleo.
“He tries, and I keep thwarting him. He can talk to her when he’s ready to apologize.”
Cleo snorts at that and rolls her eyes at me, throwing her hands up.
“I keep telling him that will never happen, in which case, according to the great master over here, I will never get to talk to Daddy again, but he just refuses to understand. My dad isn’t a bad guy, he’s just, well…him. He’s strict and prudish and maybe not all that loving, but he’s my dad, you know?”
“Not if he can’t dig deep and apologize for insulting you.”
“Darn it, Evans! Why can’t you just lighten up a little? Daddy is an ass, I get that, trust me, but he’s not a bad dad. He’s taken care of me my whole life, and he just wants what he thinks is best for me.”
“Sure, if Marshall is the best, I agree. Oh, and then what about that voice message he left you, yelling about the church music room? He did not even utter one word of worry or ask after your injuries. Good dad my ass, Peaches. That man is an asshole, plain and simple, and I won’t have him in our lives if he can’t love you and want what is best for you.”
“Oh, and you think that’s you!” she charges, her temper flaring.
Hmm, Storm may be right, I think as I watch her chest heave, her nipples tighten and that flush streak down her neck. My girl is all kinds of frustrated with me and begging for a railing.
“Yep. Now stop trying to pick a fight with me, baby, and enjoy your swim. It’s coming up on midday, and I’m about to haul both your asses out of this sun.”
“Darn it. You are so infuriating. You never end things with a valid point, just yap your fucking way out of it and go all silent and broody!”
Lenny’s eyes go wide at the curse that seems to fall from her lips naturally, and I grin at her and wink, loving the giggle she puffs out while eyeing Cleo.
“That’s because no amount of arguing will change it, babe. You and me—we’re together. Your daddy will have to accept it or risk never seeing our babies, end of story.”
“Argh! You…you…we aren’t even together, you ape.”
“Sure we are, Peaches. You sleep in our bed in my arms and live in our home. Say, I was going to ask you later but now’s as good a time as any—do you want a house with more than four bedrooms? I’ve been eyeing the old Surrey place for a while, but it’s a little iffy on the structure and the asking price is ridiculous considering all the repair work we’d have to do. What do you think?”
Her mouth just flaps mutely as she gasps in a breath, and then I see her eyes spark in a way that makes me harder than I already was.
“A house? For children? And how the hell are we ever going to have those if you’re scurrying away every time I so much as breathe on your precious skin, you imbecile? Babies get planted with sex! Fucking. Intercourse. You know—one vagina and one…one cock!” she screeches, turning vivid red when she realizes what just came out of her mouth.
Me? I’m trying not to laugh my head off at her and rather focus on the fact that she didn’t once tell me to take a hike about babies with her or say no to any of it.
Hey now, things are looking up.
“Peaches.”
“I swear to the dear Lord you are the most confusing man I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Why I even like you is one of the seven mysteries of the world,” she says with a huff, glaring at me before sniffing and putting that nose of hers in the air. “Come in, Lenny. You promised me wine, and I’m thinking I should loosen up a little before I clobber this man. To death.”
Lenny’s biting her lips and struggling not to laugh as she follows Cleo out of the water, stomping into the house.
I turn to Storm, who gives me a thumbs up, and then turn and look off into the trees, grinning at whoever is watching.
You see that, fucker? Look at my girl again. I dare ya.
Chapter Eleven
Cleo
“He is so infuriating! I swear, Lenny, the man blows cold as ice one moment, and then he’s all hot and in my face with the marriage and baby thing.”
We’re sitting at the kitchen table, nursing wine, as I pull on my cover-up and stare at her with my emotions flitting across my face. I just don’t know what to do anymore. One moment he smiles at me and I think I finally have a chance to talk to him, but he switches tack and pulls away the moment I go anywhere near him with intent.
And do not even get me started on the last few nights. Have I said yet how furious it makes me that he sleeps with me plastered to his chest, that hard on snuggled in my butt, but never once makes a move to touch me.
The only time I get anything from him is when I wake with his hand between my legs, grinding into my sex, as he humps me from behind, but if I so much as twitch he shoots out of there like his butt is on fire.
Talk about a freaking tease. Just this morning, I came out of a great dream where he was loving up on me, only to find him between my legs thrusting his underwear-covered erection into my panties.
Just one more minute, and I know I would have gotten off and exploded like a rocket on the Fourth of July. I almost screamed and started beating my fists and feet against the bed in my first ever tantrum.
It was that close.
What did I get when I finally left the room after showering and dressing and making the bed? The man went along cooking breakfast and feeding me as if nothing happened. That there irked me because I know, I just know, he was in the other shower playing with his penis.
I want to play with his penis!
“Oh honey, that man is as wound up as a rattler. He’s been watching you like a hawk.”
My unladylike snort is loud, and I purse my lips with the new attitude I’ve acquired.
“Lenny, he does it all the time. I can’t go to the bathroom without him hovering outside the door listening.
It’s become awkward and more difficult by the day, and I haven’t been with him but going on two weeks at the most now. Not even. You know things are bad when time feels like a prison sentence rather than just minutes and hours.”
She sips her “wine,” a cranberry and lemonade concoction that she says fools her eyes if not her mouth and contemplates me for a long time.
“Is it that hard because you truly don’t want to be with him anymore, or because you do and you’re fighting it?”
“Fighting what? I want him. I’ve made that embarrassingly clear the last few times I’ve tried to get closer to him, but he acts as if I’ve got fleas or the dang VD. I can’t so much as sit next to him, never mind make a move on his hot self. I just don’t think…” I trail off and glug some wine, needing the calmness that it offers since I can’t put on my mask again.
This blows, and what makes it so hard is having him be this way and then saying things that make me hope again. Marriage? Of course, I want that.
Who wouldn’t want to marry a man who is hot, kind, and so darn strong that not a breeze could harm me without him running to the rescue? I want him; I feel things for him that I do not want to examine; and yes, I even want a home and those three blue-eyed babies. Eventually. After I get to enjoy him a little.
But that won’t happen unless he stops playing games with me and driving me nuts.
“Shoot, I know what this is,” Lenny says with a sigh, her face scrunching as she stares out the window to where the men are congregated around the grill, shooting the breeze and drinking their beer. “He…dammit, why didn’t I see this sooner? I think he’s trying to give you time to heal, ya know...inside. Like he thinks you’re all fragile still from what’s happened.”
Fragile? The only thing fragile about me lately is the leash I have on a temper that seems to be worsening instead of leveling out. I suspect all these years of keeping things bottled has made me into one of those festering sores that just bubbles beneath the surface before exploding. Lately, it’s all I can do not to yell and snap at every turn, and yes, I fully acknowledge that some of that is sexual frustration.
I’m green, not stupid.
“What should I do? Because I swear, Lenny, if it keeps up this way, I will hightail it back home to Daddy even knowing he’ll make my life a living hell unless I get back in line like he wants me to.”
Her expression is pained as she moans Marshall’s name, making me laugh.
“Ooooh, Marshall, the totally ineffective way you’re playing with my clit is getting me real hot and bothered,” she teases.
“Oh you! I don’t intend to do it; I’m just saying maybe. Maybe if he doesn’t do something soon, I won’t have a choice but to go.”
Her snort is loud, so loud I have to giggle, and she shakes her head at me and looks at me as if I’m missing a screw or something.
“Hon, if you think your ass stands a chance of stepping foot out of his line of sight, I feel sorry for you. That man all but has your house and ring all picked out already.”
“Dang it.”
“I suspect you won’t have to think about that though. Did you see that grin he gave you when you left that pool? I damn near dove for your ass to save it from burning off under that hot look. Nuh-uh, my money says Gentleman Jericho is about to experience a sudden death that will have your lady flower screaming for mercy tonight.”
My lady flower? God, what a hoot!
It does heat up though at the notion that he may lose all that restraint he’s practicing and let me have what I want. Him. Naked. Open and waiting on me to lick him clean like a bowl of ice cream.
“You better hope you’re right, or I’m likely to do something that will end up in the papers,” I moan, laughing when she starts waggling her brows at me and making naughty noises. “Stop.”
“Fine. Onto something else I’ve been dying to tell you even though I do hesitate to say it. Have you heard from that carrot-pated friend of yours lately?”
“Ginger? As a matter of fact, no.”
I haven’t had a call, text, or breath from her direction, and I have got to say I am equally as hurt as I am relieved. I love her, but she’s…hard to swallow sometimes, especially considering the way she laughed at me when I told her about my night with Jericho. Ginger can be a nasty piece sometimes, just nasty.
“Well, that’s good because I don’t think she’d make it past Smiley or Oak in one piece what with the crap she’s been spewing around town about you.”
“What?”
I know she can be snide, but the woman has been my friend since I was toothless and pigtailed. Surely she wouldn’t join the flock and start in on me, too. Ginger is the one who blackens eyes when folks start yammering on about me.
“Yep. Jill and I went to that diner last week to grab lunch, and that asshole walked in with that brother of yours trilling about what a slut you’ve turned out to be.”
“Slut? I slept with one guy. Once. One time. She’s been through half the town and back again!”
Not nice, Cleo. She’s your friend. Remember turning the other cheek?
Screw that! What was it Liddy said? My cheeks are all fucked up already, ain’t nowhere else for those idiots to slap me.
Stop cussing. Just because you’re the new improved version doesn’t mean you should be a potty mouth.
True, and yet I feel so betrayed I want to march into town and scream cusses at anyone who so much as looks at me in a mean way. I want to go to Ginger’s little house and give her a good tongue lashing for saying things she’s knows are not true.
“What did Garth say?”
Lenny shrugs uncomfortably, no doubt seeing my hurt and anger, and seems ready to change the subject. Nuh-uh, she started this, we may as well finish it so that I can understand what I have to work with.
“Nothing. He didn’t say a thing, just slunk himself into a booth and ordered lunch. I have to ask though, are you sure he’s gay?”
“I met one of his boy toys last year. If he isn’t gay, that kiss he gave him sure was a waste,” I say distractedly.
“Aw, come on now, I didn’t mean to make you sad, Cleo honey. I just, I want you to know that me and the girls, we would never do that to you.”
Her hand meets mine and squeezes, and I shake off my mood and smile back, nodding.
“I know that, and I am grateful to know y’all. I just wish I could talk to Ginger. Maybe she’s angry that I haven’t been around for a while. You know how temperamental redheads can be.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “All I’m saying is if you keep her as a friend, do not ever invite her to a barbecue if Jill is around. That little blonde piranha almost attacked Carrot Top. I had to wrangle her out of there in a headlock with a hand over her mouth. She’s a biter too.”
That makes us both giggle, and we spend some time gossiping about her last adventures with Jimmy of the nasty feet before starting on the side dishes and carrying them out to the table Storm set up beneath an umbrella.
Jericho, as usual, is on me, filling my plate and seating me out of the heat before grabbing his own food and sitting beside me. I eat. I’m an eater—and darn anyone who has anything to say about it—and join in the conversation where I can while thinking about what is to come next.
Not to say that I’m unhappy right now, but I need for this killer-stalker thing to be resolved soon. Even if Jericho and I have something more than what is currently on the table, I want to go back to my job and the teens waiting for me, and I still have unfinished business with Daddy.
“Eat, woman.”
“Oh hush up, Evans. I’m not a garbage disposal. I actually chew before swallowing. I can show you how if you want to learn,” I snipe, getting a laugh from King, as Lenny and Storm choke out their amusement.
“Smart ass.”
Sure. If I’m so smart, why can’t I find a way to have more than idle chitchat with the man I’m living with?
***
“Bye, honey. You call me tomorrow and don’
t forget to come by sometime during the week so I can check your charts and make sure your shot is still effective. One of the shots I gave you when I stitched you up can really mess with the birth control shot, but I didn’t have anything else at hand to combat infection in case it set in.”
I hug Lenny back and whisper back my thanks while the men say goodbye and Jericho opens the back door for me.
For some reason, I get the back while the King himself gets to ride shotgun. Stupid males and their paranoia. I hate riding in the back while they whisper and mutter in code as if I’m too dumb to know they’re discussing me.
For instance, right now as he turns onto the main road after shaking us all up on the dirt track that Storm refuses to pave—he says it discourages visitors, which is just fine with him—he and King are muttering again.
“For Pete’s sake! I am here, you know. I can hear your muttering and code words and everything. Do you think just maybe y’all can tell me what has you both so tense, and maybe, just maybe, I might not shatter to pieces if I hear something scary.”
Sarcasm is new to me, but with Lenny and her teachings, it comes out real easy lately. Especially when faced with two men who seem to think I’m the glass that no one wants to touch in case a stiff breeze shatters me.
“She was so much easier to manage when she was sweet and docile, man. Why’d you have to go and turn her into a ball buster?”
“Shut up, ass. Look, Peaches, we’re just discussing something work-related is all.”
“Huh,” I huff, sitting back with my arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “And I guess I should just fall for that and hold my peace?”
“So much nicer before you fucked her.”
“Shut up, King!” I spit, jamming myself between the seats. “Is it too much to ask, since I’m all vulnerable and all, what you two have planned for the rest of my life? Now, I know this isn’t your fault, and I am grateful, trust me I am, but I can’t stay hidden in that bar another day without losing my mind. I want to go to work. I want my books and the snotty teenagers who depend on me to get them through school, and yes, I want to walk into the diner and flip them all the bird and order the pie I have never had because I never had the chance.”
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 24
