“Brother, sometimes you need to worry about yourself, before meddling in my business.”
I scoff. “The hell I do. It’s my job to keep you on track and make sure you stay out of trouble.” I leave out the rest of what I’m thinking. About how he needs to get his ass back to school to do something with his life like Mom and Dad would want.
“Maybe years ago, it was, Clyde, but I’m a grown man now. I can hold my own.”
His words spark my temper, and I meet him head-on with a pissed off glare. “Then maybe it’s time you start acting like it.” With that, I barely miss slamming into his shoulder as I yank my clean shirt over my head and make my way downstairs.
At this rate, it won’t only be my parents that I lose to a car wreck, but also my younger brother because he can’t put the bottle down long enough to drive home sober. It’s a miracle he hasn’t already killed himself or anyone else. The last thing I need him to add to that list is dealing with the dipshit neighbors.
I can’t stand the thought of losing him to anything, and he’s wrong, it is my responsibility. When our parents passed and left me in charge of my younger brothers, they became my entire life. They always will be too. No matter how old they get or how big and bad they believe they are.
“Shyla?” I find her truck parked next to the house with her stretched out on top of the back table soaking up the sun. She’s already a bit tan; she doesn’t need to get any more perfect.
“Hey.” She sits up and shields her eyes from the sun.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I wanted to give you some space.” She shrugs. “But I could only wait so long before checking back to see if you’d found my necklace anywhere.”
“You could’ve just called the house instead of driving all the way out here.” The number’s stayed the same since I was a kid.
She scoffs. “You never answer that thing, and we both know you wouldn’t have called me back if I left a message.”
With a shrug, my eyes rake over her stretched out form. Watching me with a smirk, she gets to her feet, stopping to stand right in front of me. She’s short and spunky and freaking beautiful.
“So…” She trails off, not breaking our heated stare that’s building a spark of tension between our bodies. There’s always some sort of crazy feelings going on whenever I’m around her, especially after that kiss we shared.
“So?” I mimic like a brainless idiot completely taken with her.
“Did you find it?”
Oh right, the necklace. I don’t know why I ever took it from her neck in the first place. Maybe I just wanted to have a chance to get a better look at the picture inside or to have something of hers again close to me for a while.
With a blink, I nod and pull it free from my pocket.
“Oh my god! Oh thank heavens, I was worried.” She reaches for it, and I grunt pulling it away.
“It goes here?” I state it as a question as I lift my free hand and press the pad of my thumb in the spot the heart had rested against.
Her breath catches with my touch, and she whispers, “Yes, right there.” Her teeth bite down on her bottom lip like my touch makes her react the same way as hers does to me.
Her skin’s so soft right there, and I lean in, running my nose along her throat. Breathing in, I smell the light spritz of gardenia perfume she no doubt rubbed there this morning. She’s worn it for as long as I can remember. It makes me want to bite her neck and hear her moan.
“Lily’s?” I grumble.
“No, Gardenia,” she mutters a bit irritated at my guess.
“I know.” With a rasp, my nose takes a deep smell of her hair next. She’s just like I remember.
Pulling away from her, my gaze flicks down and brings the necklace up. Using both hands, I drape the silver chain around her throat and secure the latch. Fixing the heart in its usual place, my fingers trail lower, over one mound and start to dip into the crevice of her cleavage before I take a step away. Her chest rises and falls with her quick breaths, and I know I’ve affected her exactly the way she does me.
“You need to leave,” I state with a groan, watching her chest move with each breath. I want to rip her shirt straight down the middle, but hold myself back.
“What? Why?”
“I have someone stopping over.”
Her eyes slam shut, her face cringing, no longer hiding her thoughts. With a disappointed breath, she asks, “A woman?”
With my pointer finger, I tip her chin up, and her eyes flash open, meeting my stare. “No, Shy. It’s business.” At that, I lean in to kiss her but stop close enough that I can feel her breath.
I don’t kiss her but wait there a beat until her eyes fly back to mine, this time in confusion from me not kissing her as she was expecting. When they do, I rasp, “I don’t want another woman.”
Dropping my hand, I turn and quickly stride to the front porch, leaving her in my wake.
Minutes later, her truck follows the dirt road circling around the property, and I watch from my rocking chair as she leaves. Not ten minutes later, her dust’s replaced with the roar from motorcycles. It’s usually only one, belonging to Chaos, but this time he has a few other men riding along with him.
I remain in my same spot until they’ve all downloaded off the motorcycles and he’s made his way to the front porch before I stand and greet him.
“Chaos.”
He nods, making his way up the stairs to shake my hand. “Clyde. I appreciate you having me back. These are a few brothers from my club.”
“Anytime.” I gesture to the chair beside me while the other unsavory looking guys wait at the bottom of the stairs. “Do they want to sit?”
He flicks a glance at them then lands back on me. “Thanks, but they’ve had a long ride. They’re not much of talkers either.”
“Gotcha. Was your trip down all right?”
“Yeah, no trouble. It’s always one of the most comfortable rides.”
“Good.”
“Has your brother mentioned when he and my daughter would be down visiting again?”
“No, as far as I know, they’re planning to fly in for Christmas depending on how the season ends up.”
“Bet. I’ll make my plans accordingly then. I might freeze my dick off tryin’ to ride for that long in December, though.”
I chuckle and stand. “Well, I won’t keep you. How many jugs do you want to take with you?”
“They’re still in the smaller size containers?”
“Yeah, I did them the same as you asked me to last time.”
“Perfect, then I’d say twelve if you have it.”
“Good thing I made a lot. I have it. I did twenty of them, figured they’d keep for the next time if you decide you want some more. I can make another batch when you come for Christmas if needed; just let me know.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Y’all wanna follow me to the storage?”
“Sure thing.” He nods as I head down the stairs toward my father’s storage building. “Come on, Spidey and Ex. I need you to carry some of these.” He grumbles at the other bikers he brought with him. I’m not fond of people just showing up, but Chaos is practically related with Ty and Kadence being together, and I trust he wouldn’t bring anyone around not trustworthy.
We all trek toward the building by the barn. I keep the liquor with the extra ranch supplies just in case someone ever finds the still, so they don’t find the product at the same time. It was one rule my father insisted on. I also change the location with every batch I make, another habit he had that I still follow.
Chaos hands me a rolled up wad of cash once we’re out of sight in the small building. I stuff it in my pocket, and we all grab up a few jugs of moonshine to get loaded on their bikes.
“Everything going well out here for you, Clyde? One less brother to worry about.”
I shrug. “Fine, I suppose. Taking a while to get used to the added quiet.”
“I know exactly wha
t you mean. It’s different once they grow up.”
I nod. It’s very different. Like a piece is missing or something, but I’d never voice that out loud.
They secure the liquor in their saddlebags, the two quiet men giving me a thankful nod before climbing on their bikes.
“You hit me up if you ever need anything. I’m not too far down the road—just a few states. Otherwise, I’ll plan to get the rest from you at my next visit.”
“Thanks. See you then.” We shake hands, and he mounts his own bike, the engines rumbling loudly as they head on their way, back to wherever they came from. Supposedly he lives in Texas, but being a biker, I’m not sure how often he’s actually there. Last time I was in Texas, I went along to help my dad pick up a horse. Seems like forever ago.
Now that’s out of the way, I have some spare cash to put up and don’t have to worry about making any more moonshine for the time being. A few batches next month and I’ll have plenty in time for his visit. I can sell off what jugs remain and not have to worry about the law coming around about it. For a time I was making so much of it, I was watching my back constantly. This small reprieve of having one main buyer is a luxury I’d never expected to have.
Now, back to the Shyla visit…that was unexpected. I was a dumbass for holding onto her necklace rather than just handing it right on over. I couldn’t help myself though. The lying about not knowing where it was isn’t like me at all. I wasn’t ready to give it back to her when I saw it though; it took me off guard to discover what she had inside.
I never lie about jackshit. That’s a lie…fuck. I guess when it comes to Miss Shyla, I’ll tell a fib or two or three or what the fuck ever. The woman ties me up in knots, no matter how much I fight against it. It goes to show that when you love someone, rules and personal standards don’t apply when it comes to them.
Don’t fret. It’ll all come out in the wash.
“Now what are you going to do with him?” My mother asks after I’ve filled her in on everything that’s happened where Clyde is concerned. Well, almost everything. I seemed to have left out the part of me getting nearly naked in his pond.
“That’s the part I was hoping you could help me with,” I admit reluctantly. I was hoping to figure this out on my own in the end, but still, no such luck.
“Oh, my Shyla…have I not taught you anything?”
“Mother what on earth are you talking about? I made the biscuits, remember.”
“And the pie, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, good. Now you get pregnant.”
“Holy shit, Ma!” I can’t hold back my curse, though if she were in front of me, she’d be smacking me for it. It’s so much easier talking to her over the phone. She can’t catch me as easily when I slip up.
“You watch your tongue, young lady. I don’t care if you’re grown or not; it’s not becoming of a woman.”
Snickering, I roll my eyes to myself since she can’t see me do it and hold in my snort.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, either.”
I swear she’s a damn witch.
“I’m not getting pregnant, Momma.” End of story. I’m not entrapping that man to stay with me.
“I’m afraid if the pie and biscuits didn’t work, then it’s time to get a bit drastic. Clyde’s an honorable man. If you get pregnant, I’m confident he’ll marry you and make a good father. He’ll do the right thing.”
“Oh lord.” He would make a fantastic father, but that’s beside the point. “I’m not going to entrap him, Mom. I love him and want him to eventually marry me because of love, not from forcing his hand.”
She sniffs, not pleased with me rebuking her suggestion. “Well, if that’s what you think is best, just save it for a backup plan, I reckon.”
I barely hold back my next snort. “Okay, I’ll do that. Do you have any other suggestions, other than giving birth to another human being?”
“You realize it’ll happen eventually, right? You having children…you are a woman.”
“Geez, Mom, I wasn’t aware. Thanks for opening my eyes.”
Sometimes I wonder how I’m related to her.
“Don’t you get sassy about it, just thought I’d point it out.”
“Mom, are you feeling all right? First, it was the jail, and now you’re talking about babies.”
“I just figured at this point in your life, it could go in either direction.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence; now, any other suggestions?”
“I’m not too sure, honey, but whatever you do, it has to be significant. You did his momma’s fruit salad, then the wreath and dinner…”
I didn’t mention the incident of me taking my bra off and sleeping next to him in his truck to her, or she’d be in church right now praying to save my soul.
“See, I’m at a loss.”
“Hm,” she hums, even making that come out sounding proper like a good Southern woman. They manage to do everything they set their mind to it seems and look good doing it. “When was the last time you danced with him?”
“Danced?”
“Yes, Shyla. You two went to all those school dances. Surely he must love it.”
My cheeks heat with the memory. We didn’t spend much of that time dancing, but she’ll never know that. “What else do you have? What did you do to get Daddy to fall in love with you?”
“Things were so much simpler in my time. It was different. Men were the ones to initiate their interest, and once they did, well, they courted you and married you. That’s what happened to your father and me.”
“So, I should just sit back and wait for him to court me?”
“Oh no, honey; times have changed. Mrs. Wanda was just telling me how her daughter’s husband ended up taking her name rather than his! I couldn’t believe it. So clearly, you need to jump on the ball.”
Like I don’t know this already; hence, me not giving him much space.
“I think I got it then, Ma.”
“What are you going to do?” she asks in a whisper.
“I think I need to get him to go to a football game with me.”
“Oh, heavens no! Are you crazy? Don’t remind him of that horrible night. I’m telling you to have the man’s baby.”
“You know what? You’re right, Mom. I’m going to get right on that.” I roll my eyes.
“All right, you let me know how it goes.”
“I will, Momma.”
There’s no way in hell I’m getting pregnant on purpose or telling her about it. The woman has had one too many sugar cookies with her morning coffee break today. Not only that, but my father would probably have a stroke if I randomly popped up pregnant without having a marriage certificate.
“Love you.”
“I love you too, talk to you soon.”
“Bye, honey.”
A breath escapes as I set my phone down. I’m not even one step closer to figuring out my next move. On a positive note, he didn’t seem too upset the last time I stopped over, which is huge progress where we’re concerned.
Maybe my mother has a point though, not with the getting pregnant part, but perhaps I should try to get him to have sex with me. There’s no way he could deny the attraction between us when it comes to that. We’ve always had intense chemistry like no other, and the sex was explosive. In fact, there’s never been another man who even comes close to what Clyde does to my body.
Mission: sex with Clyde Owens, is officially in full effect.
“So, you’re going to start stopping by everyday rather than once a week now?” the broody ass grumbles as I climb out of my pickup truck. What is it with this man being so grouchy all the time? Broody can be sexy on the opposite sex, but I miss the smile that I’ve seen light up his face in the past.
I shrug, playing it cool when the man actually has me on edge whenever we share the same space. To silently answer his question, if I need to stop over daily to break through his tough exterior, then I will. “You’re a
bit pensive, as usual. Where’d your smile run off to, Clyde Owens?”
He grunts, hiking an eyebrow up at my reply.
“Fine. I thought we were becoming friends, and friends visit each other.” And frequently in this case.
His chest rumbles as he flicks his penetrating hazel gaze from my feet to the top of my head, pausing a bit longer on my breasts. They’re covered, although his special attention has me wondering if I should’ve worn a halter top to garner his response a little more strongly. Naturally, I straighten my shoulders a bit, making myself a tad bit taller and my chest pops out, enjoying his lingering eyes.
He clears his throat, and a pleased smirk overtakes my lips.
“Friends,” he eventually huffs, like he’s testing the word and not to thrilled with it.
“We could always be more.” My sea green eyes twinkle with mischief, naughty thoughts always taking over when I stare at him. My feet move of their own accord, each step pulling me closer to him until I can smell him. His scent is all man, spicy aftershave and tangy deodorant with just a hint of sweat from working the ranch. I swear I could lick every inch of him and never get enough.
He doesn’t respond, but yanks me to him, my hands falling to his sturdy chest. The man is a force made up of strength and determination. I’ve never doubted him or his abilities. To have him near, holding me, steals my breath in the best way. I love being like this with him. I wonder how awkward it’d be if I leaned in and just breathed his scent in?
“Clyde?” It escapes with an exhale, and then his mouth’s on mine. It’s demanding and overshadowing any touch of resolve about offering him my body I may have possessed when I’d first arrived.
“More?” he growls between kisses, his hands all over my figure, tugging at my clothes, wanting me free of the restricting garments. “I want to fuck you, Shyla. I want to bend your body to mine and hear you scream my name. I want you to beg me to make you come again and again.” He nips at my neck, lifting me until my legs eagerly wrap around his waist.
The breeze flutters wisps of my ashy pale hair in every direction as he swiftly strides toward the house, carrying me along, braced to the front of his body, so our touch isn’t disconnected. It’s like I’d always remembered, being like this with him. We’re so close, and the contact between us is so damn consuming. It’s as if nothing else in the world could break through the spell; his touch is far too magical.
3 Times the Heat Page 11
