Chapter Fourteen
Lit. Patricia had told me her birthday party was going to be lit, but right up until about an hour ago when a battalion of people started marching through my front door, I believed she hadn’t understood what the word meant. As for that part about Sean and Skyler knowing how to throw a bash, I didn’t take that one seriously because I assumed a bash for my mom might be—high side—ten people.
I hauled from the garage to the kitchen another case of beer, set it on the island, and began to restock the pink tub filled with ice. It was gaily decorated—oh fuck, I think with puff paint, and no pun intended—with what I thought were supposed to be inspirational quotes and the penned well-wishes for another glorious year that I was positive were Sean and Skyler’s handiwork.
Un-fucking-believable.
After tossing aside the empty box and twisting off a bottle cap from a brew, I leaned back against the counter and stared.
The party flowed from the living room across the back lawn. Nearly every inch of space in my generous open floor plan was filled and the music—hip hop, since when did my mom even know who Kayne was?—blasted from the installed sound system in the ceiling.
Where the fuck did all these people come from?
Mom was popular.
I shook my head—popular was an understatement.
“Are you going to stay in the kitchen and brood all night?”
I turned to see Jared’s wife, Bree, staring at me from the doorway.
“I’m not brooding. I’m on KP. Every time I turn around someone—Patricia, Sean, or Skyler—asks me to do something. I’m holed up here so I can finish one beer while it’s still cold. Go back to your husband and bother him, dear.”
Her small nose crinkled beneath shimmering eyes. “I’d rather stay with you. Jared’s all butt-hurt tonight, grumbling in my ear every five minutes about work junk I don’t want to know. What’s going on with the two of you that you can’t even speak civilly to him at a birthday party?”
I shrugged. “Nothing important. A minor business disagreement. It’s already blown over.”
Not—I let loose with both barrels the second I got him alone at the party and then pushed for intel on Lee which Jared wouldn’t cooperate with. I wanted to know if there was another way to track Leland. Not knowing if he was OK was growing to a crisis state inside me.
Bree looped her arm around mine. “Come dance with me? Jared doesn’t dance.”
I set my cheek on the top of her head. “Neither do I.”
“You’re a great dancer, Graham. Come out back and enjoy the party with me. I can’t enjoy myself with you all glum and not having fun.”
I adored Bree and that made saying no not an option. “Fine. And I’m not glum. I’m in shock here. When did my mom become the prima hostess of Newport Beach?”
She laughed and latched onto my hand. “The second Skyler moved in with Sean.” She made a face. “He hangs out more with Patricia now than he does the family. I think she’s his best friend after Sean.”
“I knew there was a reason why I never wanted to date Skyler.”
“As I recall the story, you did more than date him. Player,” she chided under her breath as her cheeks pinked prettily. “It’s nice he found someone right for him. He’s an acquired taste. Don’t have to tell you that. But he and Sean have a good thing going. Jared and I didn’t think that would ever happen for him.”
Another prick to my heart—I never thought I’d find someone right for me. And in nearly all ways Leland was my right man except in that way that ended us.
One foot on the patio pavement and I was waylaid by Patricia. “Finally,” she announced pertly. “Now I can get my birthday dance with my son.”
Bree choked on a laugh and released my hand. Crud. Inside my head, I wagged a finger at her. Before I could stop her, I was being dragged to the makeshift plywood dance floor and had my mother in my arms when coincidentally—not—a slow country-western song that was her favorite started to play.
This was a setup between Bree and Patricia. I’d avoided the outside festivities, particularly the dance floor, to avoid this: having my partner on the dance floor be my mother. Not that I was such a prick that I couldn’t make Patricia happy with a dance, but doing it would only add to my melancholy.
Christ, it was like being on Noah’s Ark attending a party of Mom’s. Everyone in her social set was either married or attached—well, except me, Patricia, and mom’s clubbing buddy, Margie. Her being unattached: no surprise. Her thinking herself a cougar: delusion. Mom was the only attractive senior woman here. Biased, maybe, but my eyes said differently.
“Stop scowling, Graham,” Patricia rebuked playfully as she swayed in my arms. “It can’t be that bad dancing with your mother.”
I rallied a smile because, hell, she deserved more than that from me. “Not bad at all. It’s the song.”
The smile filled her face. “You remember. It was your father’s favorite. I just wanted to dance tonight to it with you. See, even I get a little nostalgic. You look so much like him. I’m not grossing you out, am I?”
I laughed since even the awful was delightful from Patricia. “Not at all, Mom. I wasn’t scowling because I’m dancing with you. What is it about country songs? They sing sad stories and make them sound hopeful even in a love song.”
She lifted her chin. “Love is hopeful. Even when it’s on the skids. Remember that, Graham.”
Skids—that zinger hit me.
Subtlety wasn’t in Mom’s bag of tricks.
When she pressed her cheek into my chest, her unartfully delivered advice didn’t matter. There was no denying she was happy that I was doing this with her, and there wasn’t anything more I wanted for her.
But watching over her head, I could have done without Sean and Skyler wrapped around each other like octopuses looking like they were about to sneak off to reenact a scene from From Here to Eternity.
“Christ, Mom, you need to put a stop to that in front of Ella. Why do they always have to be so…so…overtly affectionate?”
She tilted her face in the direction of my stare and laughed. “They’re in love. You should understand that better than me.”
Zinger number two in under five minutes.
“They don’t have to advertise it,” I countered disapprovingly, though I really wasn’t disapproving. In fact, I was a tad jealous of what they had.
“They’re a bit over the top,” she admitted, “but delightfully sweet together, don’t you think?’
I stared at Mom. Was Patricia really asking me to weigh in on her created love connection with my ex-lovers?
“They make the case that two wrongs do make a right sometimes.”
“Graham.”
She swatted my arm, but I laughed because that was the most generous thing I could think of to say about Sean and Skyler.
“Since when did I raise such a mean-spirited son?” Patricia scolded in affectionate annoyance. “You don’t have an issue with Zac being happy with Kevin.”
My gaze strayed to my former partner dancing with his husband. It had bugged a little navigating the party solo with Zac and Kevin here à la wedded bliss.
“Zac and I were together five years. We’re still friends. And Kevin isn’t Skyler. You have to admit that Skyler gets a bit carried away with everything. Don’t tell me you don’t find it annoying at times.”
“They’re happy together. What could be annoying about that? Love is never wrong.”
I felt a spear rend my heart as thoughts of Leland broke through my iron resolve not to think about him. Happy together. Love is never wrong. But, oh, Patricia, you are wrong…
“I enjoy being surrounded by people in love. You don’t have to be in love to appreciate it. They’re almost as delightful to watch as that couple over there.”
She jutted her chin and I turned my head.
My body came to an abrupt stop mid-step and my heart dropped. There, not ten feet from me, Ella was being held off the floor, swaying in a man’s arms, and over her golden curls, tiger eyes waited for mine.
Lee.
“Mom, what did you do?” I managed to ask through the raging emotions robbing me of breath.
“Don’t be stubborn, son. Even if you think you’re in the right, what does it matter? Don’t dig in your heels the way you do. You miss him. I fixed it. He’s here. That’s what’s important. Whatever the problem, talk to him. Sean and Skyler aren’t the only couple in love I enjoy being surrounded by.”
I stepped back from Patricia, stare unwaveringly locked on the object of my heart, but I didn’t start walking. God, he looked breath-robbingly him. Casual evening attire—a bit overdressed for a party in the backyard, if you’d asked me—blond waves roguishly tussled in a suggestive way, and as always gorgeous.
It hadn’t even been a week and the sight of him made a throb in my throat and lower…oh yes, much lower. Though, if I was going to be honest with myself—and I was far from ready to be that then—the ache in my southern region hadn’t abated for a single moment since I’d left Mexico. Neither had the ache in my heart.
He continued to sway to the music with Ella, gaze never leaving mine, and I waited to see how long he’d continue, because if anyone should have made the first move, it was him.
Well, then.
So that was how he wanted to play this—me coming to him. Instead, I crossed the yard and went into the house, maneuvering through the throng there until I was safely back in the kitchen
I poured a tall glass of Jameson straight up and pounded two-thirds of it in a single swallow. I never expected Lee to come so quickly to California. I definitely never expected it to be at Patricia’s birthday party. And I didn’t know what to make of either unlikely turn of events.
“Did you come inside the house for privacy or to make me wait forever for a kiss?”
I whirled, cocktail glass in hand, to find Lee leaning in the doorway. He ran a hand through his hair, obviously dealing with emotions of his own, and both his proximity and the better light revealed he was as cautious in this as I was.
“Or are you angry that I’m here and hoping I’ll leave?”
I leaned back against the center island rather than closing the few paces between us. “I’m not sure yet. What are you doing here?”
He laughed. “Patty called and invited me. It’s probably petty to point out that you should have done that on your own. She invited us weeks ago. Do you think I’d miss Mom’s birthday?”
Mom. And now I felt angry and a touch guilty. The Leland affect. Jumble me with a few surface comments. So him.
I tossed down the remainder of my drink and set the class on the counter. “Then, for her sake, I’m glad you’re here.”
He arched a brow. “Well, that’s an improvement. But I think you’re glad for yourself.”
My heart lodged in my throat. “That depends on why you’re here.”
“For the party, of course.”
I didn’t answer that. God, what a stupid conversation to have at this juncture. My silence only amused him.
“Damn, do you really not know why I’m here?”
Lee pushed off the doorframe and closed the distance between us. The feel of him surrounded me, and somehow, I felt his everything as well without any contact. Like a ghost not needing physical form to overcome me: the press of his body to mine; the sensation of his cock rubbing my rod; the taste of him; and even his love for me.
I was desperate to pull his body into mine, but I took a half step back. “How long are you in California?”
It was the least argumentative way I could think of to ask if he’d changed his mind about continuing on with his dealings in Mexico.
His palms framed my face and his mouth was closing in for a kiss I was starving for. Before his lips crashed into mine, I barely heard him whisper, “One night. That’s all I could manage, baby. I’ve got to head out in the morning.”
The assault of his tongue with the full-length body press of him was dizzying.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured between the glorious moves of his mouth. “How long before this party breaks up? I don’t want to waste what time we have. And if I don’t fuck you soon I’m not going to make it, Graham.”
That made me tense up. My muscles clenched even as my cock strained my briefs. “If that’s all you came for, I swear to fuck, Lee, I’m going to lay you out.” I broke his grip on my shoulders and twisted away, fighting the urge to shove him away. “Do you think you can just waltz in here, take me to bed as though everything is fine between us, and go back to Mexico in the morning?”
He gazed over me and then his posture relaxed while simultaneously ratcheting up my own intractable separateness. Time passed before his infuriating, adorable smirk rose to his lips.
“No. But it’s a start,” he stated simply, unabashed. “Fucking isn’t the worst way to save a relationship.”
I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders. “It is when it doesn’t fix anything.”
“But I don’t think we have anything to fix. I know what I want. I love you. At the risk of sounding conceited, I’m confident you love me, too, baby. And everything else is merely trivial details we’ll work out if you’d stop being so damn stubborn. Or taking off the second things aren’t the way you want them. Walking out the door didn’t change a fucking thing, Graham. It didn’t end us and it didn’t make either of us stop wanting each other. It only made us apart.”
The truth of that hit me like a brick in the face. He’d drilled down to the correct analysis of where we were—fuck, where I was over us—in less than two minutes.
As he waited for me to respond to that, a myriad of emotions were in full combat inside me.
Pain.
Fury.
Longing.
Apprehension—yes, my internal caution hadn’t stood down, not even with every ounce of blood in my body being drawn to the rise in my pants and the acceleration of my heart.
And yes, damn it, love.
I turned on my heels and left him. He scrambled my thoughts—and my resolve—when he was like this.
Cocky.
Arrogant.
Naïve and yet shrewd in his moves.
Unafraid to go after what he wanted.
Devastatingly him.
It was like I had a knife at a gunfight in the kitchen.
Fuck. Lee was a goddamn RPG.
I went into the backyard and blended into the party, staying close to Jared and Bree. Lee didn’t join the small circle around me, which regrettably included Skyler—he settled himself beside Patricia—but, oh, he didn’t have to be near me to be potent. I felt those tiger eyes alert to every move I made. I managed to avoid him until nearly 2:00 a.m. when the party started to clear out.
If he was going to make his next move it would be now that everyone was nearly gone. Ella was in bed, and Patricia—fuck, I didn’t know where she was, and for the first time I wanted her to be underfoot and she wasn’t.
Having Lee watch me all night and maintain our distance brought blisters across my flesh. Shutting off my want of him was impossible. Not with how he watched me.
It wasn’t until I said good night to Jared and Bree—the last guests—and turned back from the front door that Lee came to me.
We were alone in the small foyer, a single spot shared in a single moment.
Those amber eyes bore into mine. “The mountain came to Muhammad. I’m here. I’m yours. Tell me where I’m going to sleep.”
My mind had one tactical plan; my body a different one. This time I pounced on him, pinning him against the wall, praying to fuck Patty was asleep as my cock ground into his with the heated attack of my lips. The body could take only so much before it took over. And did I say blisters on my flesh? Fuck, there were blisters atop the blisters.
A minute later, we were in my room, door bolted, and naked, lust cracking with need from both of us. Even the Patty affect wasn’t going to kill my erection. I was that fucking hard and out of my mind for him, ramrod straight, and filled with thoughts of being in him again.
With a push from my hips, I brought us both to the bed, stretched out atop him, and grinded into him as we necked like a couple of horny teenagers.
His tongue ran my shoulder and I shuddered.
His head flopped back onto the pillow beneath me and tossed. “If you don’t get the hair gel, baby, and get in me fast, I’m going to fucking crawl out of my skin.”
My laughter came out of nowhere and surprised me, and I lay my head against his chest for a moment to steady myself. Fuck, even that—hair gel—was a turn-on. It was us. We could talk in the morning.