The Barrett Brothers Collection

by K B Cinder

  “Who the fuck goes grocery shopping in cut-offs?”

  “Language!” she hissed, straightening with her eyes like slits.

  “Okay, since when does Josie Motherfuckin’ Roberts care about language?” I shot back, using her teenage moniker for herself.

  A little boy popped his head around from the other side of the display. The same boy I’d seen with her at the cottage. He bit his lip, an identical wild thicket of blond atop his head. “Mommy, I want to go home.”

  Holy shit.

  Josie had a kid.

  A kid with a full set of teeth and the ability to form complete sentences.

  It wasn't a cousin or a friend. It was a human she grew and birthed.

  She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him close. “It’s okay, Linc. This is my friend from when I was little. His name is Luke.”

  His lips twisted as he thought, just as hers always did.

  I stared at the miniature version of Josie, waves of shock still trickling in. “Hi, Little Dude.”

  “This is Lincoln,” she introduced, patting his shoulder. “We were picking out donuts. He likes powdered ones like you do.”

  I waved like an idiot, but the little guy offered a handshake.

  A little kid was giving me a handshake.

  A scared little kid that looked like he wanted to run away and never stop.

  I shook his hand, his little limb trembling in my grasp. “That’s because they’re the best, right?” I smiled, but he didn’t return the gesture.

  He nodded, his eyes locked on my tattoos. As soon as the handshake was through, he snatched his hand back to his chest, scared shitless.

  “Sorry about that.” I glanced back at Josie, who was flushed but didn’t look homicidal despite my crash landing. “Old habit.”

  “Forgiven,” she muttered, reaching down and tugging at her shorts with her free hand.

  “They’re fine, California,” I joked. I hadn’t meant to make her self-conscious. I was just messing with her. I peeked in her cart, spying hot dogs and a bunch of fresh vegetables. “Big plans for the holiday weekend?”

  “We’re going to the parade and the fireworks show,” she replied, squeezing her son’s hand.

  He was still looking up at me with wide eyes, not sure what to make of me. I didn’t blame him either. If I’d seen someone like me at his age, I probably would have been just as scared. Briar was full of polished yuppies, not tatted woodsmen.

  “The brewery opens tomorrow at five. You should come.”

  What the fuck was I saying?

  She smirked, rubbing a hand over Lincoln’s hair. “I’m not sure a brewery is a place for a little boy, but thanks.”

  “There’s a restaurant, Josie. I’m not suggesting he do a keg stand. Best barbecue in town. Guaranteed.”

  She continued to fidget with her shorts, covering up precious bits of skin I wanted to savor, not hide. “Maybe.”

  I offered my most disarming smile. “Come on. Free food.”

  Lincoln glanced at their cart and squeezed her hand a few times, the tiny knuckles flexing.

  Damn, I was ready to give the kid whatever he wanted with the level of cute he had going on.

  She stood firm, not giving an inch, immune to his adorableness. “Maybe.”

  “Suit yourself. Pretty much everyone will be there.”

  She nodded stiffly. “I know. It’s a big deal for Briar. Congratulations.” Her words were kind, but her tone was anything but.

  “Josie Roberts, are you getting spicy with me?”

  “It’s Josie Cross,” she corrected. “And I’m always spicy.”

  My eyes dropped to her hand, no wedding ring hanging out. “Is that so?”

  Damn. Divorced with a kid.

  I didn’t see any men’s stuff in the cottage. I didn’t think you could up and leave with a kid when there was another parent in the picture.

  She stood her ground, chin tilted high and shoulders back. “Yes, that’s so.”

  I tested the waters for the hell of it. “You can invite Mr. Cross too. There are plenty of spicy things on the menu.”

  “Linc,” she said, dropping her eyes to her son. “Adult talk.”

  He dropped her hand, his own flying up over his ears.

  Once she was sure they were covered, she glanced at me, cheeks burning. “Mr. Cross passed away. If you would please refrain from the back-and-forth bullshit in front of my child, I’d appreciate it.”

  I swallowed hard, each word a punch to the gut. “Sorry.”

  Holy fuck.

  “We clear?” she asked, still smoking with fury.

  I nodded, and she tapped the boy’s shoulder, his hands falling to his sides.

  “Nice to meet you, bud.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, his tiny eyebrows snapping together. “You’re our neighbor.”

  I nodded, surprised he noticed. Then again, there weren’t many men that looked like me. “That’s right.”

  “Can I play with your dog?”

  Josie stiffened, not hiding her disdain.

  “You’ll have to ask your mom,” I replied, not wanting to risk life and limb to answer for her.

  He glanced at her, and she crushed his dreams with the classic mom reply, “we’ll see."

  “Jos-” I started. She shouldn’t punish the kid because of our issues.

  She shook her head, stopping me in my tracks. “Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  "Okay,” I muttered, still flustered. “Don’t freak if you see strange faces around my place either. My brothers are visiting this weekend. It might get a little noisy, but we’ll try to keep it down.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate the heads up.” She grabbed Lincoln’s hand and her cart. “See you around, Luke.”

  “See you later,” I echoed, watching her and her sexy ass walk away.

  To my surprise, Lincoln turned as they did, giving me a small wave. “See ya, Mr. Luke.”

  Josie

  The cottage still smelled like lost causes and broken dreams, a funky odor that was as depressing as it was disgusting.

  Liv joined in the fight first thing to start the assault against the funk, not needing to be at work until noon. As usual, her help came with iced coffees and a side order of bitching about Mom and Dad, not that I minded. I appreciated the help and caffeine.

  So far, we’d scrubbed most of the downstairs, cleaner and elbow grease not touching the smell. Years of being closed off likely allowed the stench to permeate to the studs, but I wouldn’t admit failure without a fight. It was our new home, dammit, and it would not smell like mothballs forever.

  I’d already scrubbed the loft after Dan’s creepy confession, not that it seemed to make a dent in the smell or the memory of what he’d said. His constant attempts to connect went unanswered, his calls sent straight to voicemail where he’d babble on about grabbing coffee together.

  Linc was playing with his tablet on the back deck away from the fumes, his occasional grumblings of frustration drifting in the open windows. It was one of the few places he’d sit willingly, lounging in an Adirondack chair for hours if I let him.

  “So Dad doesn’t want to pay for a DJ,” Liv huffed, dunking her rag into the bucket of sudsy water. “And he doesn’t like the song I picked out for our Father-Daughter Dance.”

  “It’s your wedding, Liv,” I reminded, joining her in the bubbly water before turning my attention back to the wall. “You need to do what makes you happy.”

  “Yeah, but you know how that goes with him…”

  Boy, did I ever.

  As if dating a Barrett wasn’t bad enough, I’d married a man he refused to acknowledge, let alone accept. Even in death, he hadn’t budged in his disgust for Scott.

  “You can do no wrong, Liv…” I muttered, meaning every syllable. She could announce she was joining the circus, and Dad would support her. “Hire a DJ and play the song you want. It’s your big day — not his. He had his. A long, long, long time ago.�
��

  She was marrying Alex, a doctor that made our parents swoon. She’d have beautiful, well-bred babies someday and continue to be their pride and joy even if she played 70s porn tracks during the reception.

  She giggled, studying her hands despite having thick rubber gloves up to her elbows. “Daddy has a temper.”

  “Liv, he’s never even raised his voice at you. You’ll be fine.”

  While I could do no right, Liv did no wrong, skating by with average grades and shunning college for cosmetology school. I eventually got my degree, but Dad still scoffed at it and my career.

  Her shoulders sagged, eyes defeated. Forever sensitive, a hint of honesty always sent her into a spiral, probably from the coddling. Coddling that I was guilty of as well.

  “Liv-” I plopped my rag into the bucket and tore off my gloves. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

  True, but insensitive.

  “I tried talking to him about you,” she admitted, gnawing on her lip. “I don’t know what his problem is.”

  “You don’t need to worry about it, Liv. I’m used to it.”

  As much as it sucked to admit, it was true. I was used to being the outcast. The troublemaker. The mistake. I wore it with pride, happy to be nothing like him. The only things we had in common anymore were his big, brown eyes.

  “But he’s so hateful to you, Jos.” Her eyes misted with tears. “I can’t look at wedding stuff without my heart breaking for you… for you and Scott.”

  “We did it our way, Liv, and I loved it. I’d do it all over again.”

  And I would. Dad skipped our day, but I had the people that mattered with us, and I’d cherish it forever.

  “But it’s not right! You shouldn’t accept that! You deserve better!”

  “I do,” I sighed. “And that’s why I stay away from him, Liv. He loves Linc, and he can keep loving Linc, but he won’t rob me of sunshine anymore.”

  “I wanted him to do a dance with you too.”

  I stared at her for a long moment, took in each blonde curl that rebelled from her bun, her perfect lashes, and porcelain skin. She was too good for our family. She always had been, and I hated that I hadn’t been able to pry her away to California.

  “Liv, I don’t want or need to dance with him.”

  Every little girl dreamed of it, but I’d given it up years earlier, somewhere between him backhanding me outside of a police car and shipping me off like some sort of burden.

  “I’ve wanted it for you for so long.” She wiped a stray tear away with the back of her gloved hand. “Mom does too.”

  Mom never talked to me about Dad, excusing his behavior at every turn. That's what good political wives did. They glossed over the shit behavior of their spouses.

  “Liv, I want you to have your day. Let me be there for you as your maid of honor.”

  I sighed, reaching back for my gloves before freezing, hearing Linc giggling, his feet tapping around the deck.

  “Lincoln!” I called, standing and making my way across the kitchen towards the backyard, my heart in my throat when I looked out the glass.

  Lincoln was jumping around the deck with a dog. The pink collar gave her owner away, and the instant fear was replaced with frustration, knowing I had to be the bad guy who hiked across the street with it.

  “I’ll be right back. Luke’s dog is here.”

  I stepped onto the deck, the big-headed beast turning my way, one ear cocked high in the sky.

  “This is my friend, Mommy!” Linc introduced, proud as could be of his fur-covered buddy.

  “That’s Luke’s dog.” I glanced back at the brown and white pup, her head almost too big for her muscular frame. “And he’s probably looking for her. Go inside with Aunt Liv while I take her home.”

  I wasn’t looking forward to it, but it had to be done. After our last run-in, I wasn’t wading into another conversation with Linc present. God knows what would fly out of either of our mouths.

  He scowled, crossing his arms defiantly. “YOU ALWAYS TAKE MY FUN!” he screeched, his tone sending the dog scampering down onto the grass.

  “Lincoln David, you’re scaring her!” I ground out, not wanting the frighten her further. “She’s Luke’s dog, and she needs to go home. He’s probably worried sick.”

  He glanced at the dog, a pit bull mix if I had to guess, and then back to me, dropping his hands into balled fists. “I hate this place, and I hate you.”

  “Go inside. We’ll talk when I get back.”

  He continued to glare, his little chest huffing, tears shining. “You always do this!”

  I held my ground while he came down from his fiery tantrum, hands slowly unclenching as his breathing steadied. We’d been circling his temper ever since he raged into his terrible twos like a bull in Pamplona, and after two years, I was a pro.

  “Go inside, bud. I need to take her home, okay?”

  “Can you tell Mr. Luke I said hi?” he asked, his voice breaking my heart in two.

  “Absolutely, babe.”

  He plucked his tablet from the armrest of his chair and headed inside, shutting the screen door gently rather than letting it slam, eyeing the dog as he did.

  “Come on, dog!” I called as I headed onto the grass, the tank following close behind, muscles just as impressive as her owner's.

  As menacing as she was, she was well-behaved, other than refusing to stay in her yard. Then again, knowing Linc, he probably lured her over. I couldn’t blame her then; he was awfully convincing when he wanted to be.

  When we reached the road, she stopped and waited, seeming to recognize the danger. Smart for a dog. Especially Luke’s dog.

  As soon as we crossed, she bolted towards the house. I scanned the property, coming up short in my quest for her owner, so I followed her onto the porch, knocking to deliver her safely. I could hate Luke until the cows came home, but I couldn’t leave an innocent dog unattended, even if he didn’t seem to care about her well-being.

  He didn’t come right away, but once the door popped open, I wish he’d taken a second longer to pull a shirt on at least.

  Standing inside was straight temptation, a cut body wearing nothing but blue boxer briefs. His chest engulfed the doorway with thick, inked muscles stretching across his shoulders to his pecs, a tiny piece of metal clamped in each nipple. Sunlight danced on his skin, beads of water and wet hair signaling he was straight from the shower.

  “Can I help you?”

  My eyes fell from his chest, only to land on a crotch bulge for the history books, a thick rod at its center.

  “Your dong was in my yard,” I muttered, swallowing hard and flicking my eyes back to his face, meeting the blue eyes that melted my core. “Dog! Your dog was in my yard.”

  “Well, thank God, I wouldn’t want my dong wandering without permission,” he teased, a sly smile spreading wide. “But thanks for bringing my girl back. She used to visit Mrs. Sutton, so she wanders that way sometimes. Sorry.”

  “You should watch her. Cars drive fast out here.”

  He yawned, stretching his hands high, putting on a hell of a show as every bit of him flexed. “Yes, mom.”

  In the sliver of space surrounding him, I could see the bungalow that once felt like home.

  Luke caught me staring, craning his head. “Like what you see?”

  I liked everything I was seeing, not that I'd ever admit it. “It looks great inside.”

  “Thanks.” He snapped his fingers, and the dog ran in, sitting at his heel. “You want a tour?”

  I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the dog, the happy-go-lucky pup oblivious to how dangerous her master was. The last place I needed to be was Luke Barrett’s house, let alone with him barely dressed and a door shut behind us. I’d melt.

  “Come on, I don’t bite.” His words didn’t match his appearance, looking capable of so much more.

  Nipping.

  Punishing.

  Pounding.

  All the while, I longed for the comfort of
the bungalow, the long-lost retreat inches away. It’d be a sin not to step inside for old times’ sake, to borrow some of its warmth.

  I glanced over my shoulder back at the cottage, not spying Linc or Liv. If I were quick, neither would know any better, though Liv would drop dead if she saw me chatting with Luke in his undies.

  “I can’t be long. Liv is helping me clean.”

  “Dust still bothering you?” he asked, stepping aside to let me in.

  “Yep,” I muttered. He always had a sixth sense about how I was feeling, so lying was pointless. “But I’ll get used to it.” I wasn’t so sure about that, but I was running with it.

  “I know a lot about dust,” he sighed as I stepped in, my breath hitching at all the changes.

  The water-stained ceilings were gone, exposed beams soaring high, making the quaint space seem exponentially bigger than I remembered. He’d plowed through a wall, opening the space to the kitchen, installing huge windows overlooking the water along the rear of the house.

  The delicate aroma of Nan’s beloved vanilla candles was long gone, a masculine wave of cologne moving their warmth aside, though I couldn’t get enough of it. Not that the freshly-showered man feet away helped.

  “Wow, you’ve been busy.” I scanned the place that was once my second home, and strangely enough, despite all the changes, it hadn’t lost its homey feel.

  “It’s been eleven years. Had to keep busy somehow.”

  The rumble of his voice was unmistakable, my eyes flicking his way, spying him leaning against the door. His eyes burned, the turbulent oceans of blue offering adventure I couldn’t imagine.

  “You’ve been busy too, I’m sure.”

  “Linc keeps me on my toes. He says, “hi” by the way.” I bit my lip, breaking the hold he had on me, studying the living room, fluffy throw pillows dotting the sitting area, not a hint of the gritty fiend anywhere.

  “I’ll say hi to him later at the opening.”

  “We’re not…” I trailed, but he shook his head.

  “You’re going. You and I both know you will.”