Gibson (The Brothers Book 1)

by Mia Malone

  “Heard about the break-in at your place, Gibson,” the man continued. “Your chief of police put the word out. Found a man in the river, matches the description of one of them. It’s a long shot, but I’d like you to take a look at him.”

  Why the hell would a petty idiot of a criminal breaking into his home turn up floating in the Chicago River?

  “That’s a fucking long longshot,” Gibson said.

  “I know. Can you come?”

  “Yeah,” Gibson sighed. “Fuckall timing, but I’m on my way.”

  “Busy?”

  Gibson grunted as he got out of bed and kicked the clothes on the floor around to find a pair of jeans that looked clean enough.

  “A hot piece?”

  His former partner suddenly had both laughter and curiosity in his voice.

  “That’s for me to know and you to never, ever find out. Get me?”

  Now, why the hell had he said that?

  “Aha, like that, is it?”

  “I’ll be there tonight,” Gibson said instead of answering.

  “Let me know where you stay. We’ll have a beer.”

  “Yeah,” Gib said and hung up.

  Hell.

  There wasn’t anything to do about it. Convincing Lee she should join him in his bed would have to be postponed, which seriously sucked, but perhaps it was better this way. She was getting used to him, but he knew she wasn’t interested in getting involved with anyone, so he’d have to figure out how to get her to think about him, and him fucking her, while he was gone. He planned while he packed what he’d need for a few days, slung the leather duffel over his shoulder, nabbed his phone and wallet, and walked downstairs.

  Lee was sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking coffee.

  “You’re awake,” he said, feeling a little disappointed.

  He would have wanted to wake her up.

  “Always wake up early,” she said, noticed his bag and frowned. “You’re leaving.”

  “Got a call about the break-in. I need to go see about shit.”

  He braced because leaving with no notice at all and without sharing any details about his trip would have been something that made either of his ex-wives start a loud shouting match which lasted until he was out of the house. And restarted when he got back.

  He’d had a lot of make-up sex in his two marriages. A hell of a lot.

  “Okay,” she said calmly. “Will you have time for breakfast before you leave?”

  He blinked.

  “Yeah,” he said slowly.

  “Pancakes?”

  “What?”

  She didn’t reply. Instead, she walked over to the fridge, pulled out a bowl, and then a skillet. As he watched in surprised silence, she turned the heater on and plopped a piece of butter in the pan.

  “Coffee’s ready,” she murmured and stirred the batter she’d apparently already made.

  “You’ve been up a while.”

  “Half hour,” she said and started making him goddamned pancakes for breakfast.

  When they’d finished eating, he made a move with his hand to indicate that she was supposed to remain seated while he put their plates away. Her soft smile was full of surprise, and he wondered if that dumbass ex-husband of hers really had been that much of a dick. He grabbed the coffee pot to top her cup up and got another surprised smile.

  Yeah. He had absolutely been that much of a dick.

  “I’ve been thinking about those toys of yours, baby,” Gibson said as he closed the dishwasher, and got exactly the reaction he wanted from Lee.

  He had her full attention.

  “Um,” she said, and he felt like laughing when he saw the blush on her cheeks.

  “Why do you need them?”

  “Why do you think I need them?” she asked. “I’m not really interested in getting involved in a relationship with anyone, Gibson.”

  She tried to be just as casual about the whole thing as he was, but it was clearly a struggle for her.

  “I get that, but life’s too short to spend it with a piece of plastic,” he said calmly and added with a wink. “Or several.” She didn’t say a word, so he went on, “You could have the real thing instead, without the relationship part.”

  “Okay, that might be true,” she conceded after a while. “There was that man who wanted to show me his burrito, and I think he probably meant it in a casual way, but what if he’d wanted more? I’m living in Wilhelmine now, and I don’t want to mess things up.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she said quickly, seeing his brows go high on his forehead. “I didn’t get it, Gibson. I thought he honestly wanted to teach me how to cook Mexican food, but he probably meant it as a pick-up line. Jenny said something to him, and he went away.”

  “Jesus,” he said and couldn’t hold back surprised laughter.

  This conversation wasn’t going exactly as he had planned.

  “Both Joke and Jenny laughed,” she admitted.

  They would have done just that, and he would buy Jenny flowers when he got back.

  “I guess I could go to one of the resort towns to pick someone up,” she said and raised her brows haughtily, reminding him about how this was what he’d aimed at doing when they met the first time.

  He wasn’t going to tell her that he hadn’t failed.

  “Or you could have me,” he said calmly instead and leaned forward to put both hands on the breakfast bar in front of her.

  “What?”

  “You’re not looking for a relationship. Neither am I.”

  She stared at him openmouthed, and he grinned.

  “You’re a good-looking woman, I’m a healthy man. We both need to fuck.”

  “How,” she started, closed her mouth but opened it to start again, “What would?”

  She clearly had no clue what to say, and he felt his mouth widen in a smile.

  She hadn’t said no.

  “It’s not complicated, baby. When we feel like it, we fuck.”

  She blinked.

  “You want to be my… fuck-buddy?”

  He couldn’t hold his laughter back then, and she relaxed a little while he struggled to calm down.

  “Yeah,” he said finally, not trusting himself to say anything else.

  “How would that even work, Gibson? Would we see others at the same time? Would it be a secret?”

  Holy hell, she still hadn’t said no. His gut clenched, and he wished both the crook and the dead man in Chicago would go to hell, which was where at least one of them probably was anyway.

  “No others. While it lasts, it would be just you and me. And it would not be a secret. That would make it dirty.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “I have to leave, Lee. Let’s talk about it when I get back.”

  He hoped he’d put the idea firmly in her head so she would think about it as a real possibility while he was gone.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” she said.

  “I’m sure it would be very good,” he said and leaned in so close he could feel the warmth of her cheek. “Very, very good, baby,” he murmured and felt her shiver a little.

  “Gibson,” she breathed.

  “Yeah?” he murmured,

  “Why would you want this? You can get… that, anytime you feel like it.”

  “I want you.”

  She pulled in air and moved backward.

  “I’m not very... sexual.”

  He grinned then. A woman who admitted to having several toys tried to convince him she wasn’t sexual?

  “How often do you put your hand between your legs, babe?”

  “That’s none of your business,” she snapped.

  “Fair enough,” he agreed. “How about this, Lee; You don’t touch yourself, your goddamned toys do not touch you, not for a week. Then we talk again.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t keep your hands away?”
<
br />   “What do you mean? Of course, I can.”

  “So, don’t.”

  He walked out, not wanting to give her the chance to back out of a deal he knew well he’d pushed her into.

  “Gibson,” she called out.

  Shit. She was going to back out of it.

  He turned slowly.

  “If I don’t then you can’t either.”

  Jesus Christ, he thought. She was still blushing slightly, but she’d raised her chin defiantly and was watching him with a look in her eyes that went straight to his dick.

  “You have no idea how much I want to take you upstairs to my bed right now,” he said hoarsely.

  She smiled then and pursed her mouth a little.

  “I might not agree to this fuck-buddy thing, Gib.”

  “That’s your choice,” he said. “Think about it, Lee, and if you want it, just say the word.”

  She held his gaze for a few long beats and then she nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  Then he walked out and almost groaned at the thought of not touching a part of him that was so hard it hurt. The goddamned hotel would have a water bill from hell with all the cold showers he’d be taking.

  ***

  Charlene

  Why had I agreed to Gibson’s stupid request? I was a goddamned grown up woman, and I touched myself whenever I wanted, and as much as I wanted, didn’t I? It wasn’t as if I got myself off every night but since he’d left, it had been all I could think about.

  Fuck-buddies with Gibson Ward.

  Friends with benefits.

  I had to talk to someone about it, or my head would explode. He’d said it wouldn’t be a secret because that would make it dirty. He didn’t know, but that was one of the things which made me seriously consider the whole thing.

  That, and what looked like a pretty darn impressive erection in his pants.

  And his ass.

  And his silver-gray eyes.

  “Earth to Lee?”

  I jumped when Jenny called out to me from the other side of the kitchen. She’d pleaded and begged for me to do a few hours each day with her in the restaurant, and I’d caved in. I still had most of the money I got from Bob for the house and the rent I paid for the cabin was virtually nothing, so I’d manage the year in Wilhelmine without working. I liked what I did at the diner, though, and loved hanging out with Jenny and her part-time waitress Mae who was an absolute sweetheart. No waitressing, Jenny had said. No cleaning up. Just come in and make the baked goods look good and decorate whatever cakes anyone ordered. It was late afternoon, and I was putting the finishing touches on a cake for a wedding anniversary.

  “You should have chocolate chip cookies. And snickerdoodles.”

  “What?”

  “You could sell them in bags, a dozen in each like they do in the supermarket but tasting better.”

  “Okay, Lee.”

  “And cinnamon rolls. Huge ones with loads of glazing.”

  “Okay, honey.”

  “Apple pie.”

  “Okay.”

  “And mud cake. Everyone loves mud cake. You could make it with pecans and globs of condensed milk. Or marsh -”

  “Lee.”

  “What?”

  “Do you need tequila?”

  “God, yes.”

  She giggled and waved the pale blue spatula she’d been stirring a fantastic smelling stew with.

  “Give me half an hour, then Mae can handle the diner. We’ll go to Oak.”

  “Thank you.”

  She laughed some more, and muttered, “You’re totally welcome.”

  ***

  “God, that man is clever!” Jenny squealed.

  I had shared every little detail about Gibson’s proposal, and we’d discussed it at length, all the while fueling the discussion with tequila. The last part I’d shared was his stupid, stupid idea that I couldn’t touch myself.

  “And hot,” I added, nodding sagely.

  “Clever and hot,” she agreed.

  “Smoking,” I said.

  “Whatever,” she said. “Will you do it?”

  “Maybe,” I said, but amended it to, “Probably.”

  “I think you should. Word back in High School was that he was good.”

  I blinked. He had been good already back in High School?

  Yowza.

  We grinned at each other, and I leaned forward.

  “I’m so happy I met you, Jenny. You know that, right?”

  Her grin turned into a smile so bright it almost blinded me.

  “I know and right back at ya, Lee.”

  She put her hand on top of mine, and we grinned again.

  “I want another shot,” I shared. “Do you want another shot?” I asked and added with somewhat drunken logic, “We deserve another shot.”

  “Abso-fucking,” she said and raised both her hands. “Joke, oh brother of mine…” she shouted but trailed off when she realized he was right next to us behind the bar. “There you are,” she grinned. “Best of all my brothers.”

  “Only brother you have,” he retorted. “You’re shit-faced.”

  “We deserve to be shit-faced,” I shared.

  He stared at me.

  “Why?”

  That was a relevant question to which I had no answer whatsoever.

  “Because of Gibson and his big dick,” Jenny shared gleefully.

  “What?” Joke asked.

  “Gib has a big penis?” I asked, wide-eyed.

  “Jesus,” someone said at my side, and I swiveled around so quickly I almost fell off the chair.

  “Hey, Mac!” I cheered. “We’re completely smashed.”

  “I can see that,” he said calmly, although his eyes were full of soft humor.

  If he could see it, then everyone else could too, and maybe we weren’t supposed to be that drunk in public. Not at our age. Or?

  “Are we too old to be this drunk?” I asked Jenny in a whisper which didn’t come out quite as silent as I’d intended.

  “No,” she whispered back. “We’re too old to puke on the floor, though.”

  “This is true,” I agreed.

  “But not too old to have,” she made a pause, lowered her voice and hissed, “sex.”

  “Jesus,” another male voice said.

  Paddy had apparently also decided to spend the evening at Oak.

  “Paddy!” I squealed. “I really want to see you with your ass in the air,” I shared.

  “I’m sure that can be arranged,” he said with a grin.

  “Why would you want to see Paddy with his ass in the air?” Joke asked and put two glasses of water in front of Jenny and me instead of the shots we’d ordered.

  I’d meant that I wanted to do yoga with him, but I could see that I’d not been entirely clear in how I expressed myself. Before I could amend my statement, I felt warmth at my back, and a strong arm wrapping itself around me from behind.

  “Hey, babe,” Gibson said quietly.

  His beard scraped softly against my cheek, and the way his lips moved over my ear made all blood in my body move south. All air left my lungs, but I sucked it back in and turned.

  His gray eyes were on me, and he was smiling.

  “Jenny said you have a big dick,” I whispered.

  There was laughter around us, which I totally ignored because the way his eyes filled with mirth was just beautiful.

  “I do,” he said.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  He tilted his head back and laughed loudly, and I watched him. I hadn’t seen him look that happy before and it was beautiful too.

  “Good to have you back, bud,” Joke said and handed him a beer.

  “Yeah,” Gibson agreed.

  Chapter Seven

  Charlene

  I had another hangover.

  Since I moved to Wilhelmine, I’d had more hangovers than I’d had in t
he previous fifteen years altogether. Three precisely, which didn’t exactly put me on the path to alcoholism, but I still vowed yet again to never have another shot of tequila.

  “Coffee,” Gibson’s voice said next to me, and I pushed my face deeper into the pillow and groaned.

  We hadn’t talked much the evening before, but he’d been at my back with an arm around my waist for what remained of the evening. This could admittedly have been because I was on the verge of sliding off the barstool, but I didn’t care because it had also felt nice. Then he’d helped me into his truck, where I promptly fell asleep, after which he carried me into his home.

  “How bad do you wanna hurl?” he asked matter of factly.

  “Scale of one to ten?” I mumbled, and went on, “Three. Maybe four.”

  “Not too bad then,” he chuckled and turned my head around to look at me.

  “I look like shit,” I said and tried to keep my face hidden in the pillow.

  “You’ll feel better after some coffee and a shower,” he said, which I guessed was his way of saying that I did indeed look like garbage and needed to wash the makeup off my face. Then I remembered that I had washed my face. Then I remembered some of the things I’d said.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  “For what?”

  “For last night,” I said.

  “Why?”

  I had been way out of line, and I had to get my apology out of the way, so I braced and said quietly, “I’m sorry I just blurted out what Jenny said about the size of your… um.”

  He grinned.

  “What?” I asked, probably a little more sourly than the situation warranted but I was also embarrassed.

  “My cock.”

  I stared at him.

  “Say it,” he murmured, “and we’re even.”

  Oh, God. That was not a word I’d ever said out loud. Penis or dick, yes. That? Um, no.

  “Say it,” he prompted again. “What Jenny said about the size of my…?”

  “Can’t I use another word?” I asked.

  He grinned.

  “Penis is a perfectly appropriate one,” I heard myself saying.

  He started laughing.

  “My cock,” he repeated.

  “Dick?” I suggested.

  “Baby, what are you afraid of?”

  He’d stopped laughing and was watching me intently.