Chapter Twelve

Linkin

“I’ve met someone.”

Mom looks up from the bowl of brownie batter she’s mixing to give me the look. It’s part shocked, part amused, and well, more shocked. She works in an hour at the café that I ate lunch in earlier with the Summer clan. I was bored at home, and since the boys are probably driving her crazy by now, I decided to come see her for a bit before taking the knuckleheads back to my place.

Good thing I did.

Something’s up.

Mom only bakes when she’s stressed, which lately has been a lot more than usual. Not that her life has been a walk in the park these last six months–hell, last year–but even when her marriage was falling apart and secrets were exposed, she didn’t bake like this. She didn’t have time. She was too busy putting out fires she didn’t start and keeping the mess as far away from the boys as possible.

“Oh?”

“Her name is Lexi. She’s actually my neighbor,” I tell her, leaning my hip against the counter and tossing an apple into the air and catching it.

“Would this be the woman your brother Jack is planning to marry?” she asks, her lips curling up into a smile. God, I’ve missed that smile. My mom is gorgeous, but she was dealt a bad hand, and life has slowly sucked the joy right out of her. The only time she smiles anymore is usually reserved for the boys and me. And even then it’s rare.

“It would. But in my defense, I kissed her first,” I quip with my own smile, recalling Jeff’s taunts to kiss her before Jack.

“Tell me about her,” she insists as she pours the batter into the pan. I watch as she slides it into the preheated oven. Excitement races through me as I realize I’ll be eating hot, gooey, awesome fucking brownies in about thirty minutes.

“She works at a salon uptown. She’s the youngest of six and a twin. She’s feisty and gorgeous and isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with me. She’s a smart ass to boot.”

Mom’s quiet so I glance over and see the warm grin. “And you like her.”

“Yeah.”

“Does she know?” Mom asks quietly, averting her gaze. I know exactly what she’s asking.

“No.” When she glances up at me, I continue. “I wasn’t planning to tell her for a bit. I don’t want to bring our shit down on her.”

“Link, you can’t hide it from her for too long. When secrets lay between you, no one really sleeps.”

I get what she’s saying. Shit, she lived those secrets; being kept in the dark and finding out too late that the one you love is a dirtbag.

“I know, Mom. I’ll tell her, I promise. But I want to wait to see where this thing goes first, you know? I don’t like anyone knowing our business.” Ain’t that the truth. As soon as our dirty laundry started coming out, and the whispers started to get too close to the twins, I pulled them out of town and relocated us all to Jupiter Bay. Here, no one cares what our last name is. No one knows why we up and moved to a new town practically overnight. No one knows the secrets that trail behind us like a shadow.

“I know you like your privacy, Link. Hell, I do too. I haven’t told a soul about Arnie.” Fuck, I hate it when she says his name. Makes my knuckles twitch to connect with something hard. “But I don’t want this mess to come between you and this Lexi. Just the fact that you’re telling me about her lets me know that she’s special. I trust that when the time is right, you’ll tell her what she needs to know.”

“I will.”

“Good. Now, grab the container on the counter. I cut up some fresh fruit for you to take home with you. The boys should have it for snack.”

“Fruit?”

“Yes, fruit. It’s one of the basic food groups. You should try it sometime,” she quips, snapping the hand towel my direction. “Tell me more about your girl.” My girl. Damn, I like the sound of that.

“Well, she’s going through a divorce,” I state, waiting for the reaction I know is coming.

“She’s not divorced yet?” Mom asks, the concern I expect written all over her face.

“Not yet, but it’s in the process. The douche she was married to is dragging his feet,” I tell her, popping a grape into my mouth.

“You’ve met him?”

“Unfortunately. He shows up randomly at her place. Both times, I was there to intercept. He doesn’t like to be told no.”

“Most men don’t,” Mom whispers, cleaning up her hand mixer and bowl. Turning to face me, she adds, “Just promise me you’ll be careful. If she’s just coming out of a divorce, she may not be as ready to date as she thought she was.”

“No, I’m pretty sure she’s ready. She told me a bit about her ex and why she left. She wanted a baby and he wouldn’t give it to her. But even before that, she says the marriage was over. He wouldn’t ever do anything with her and worked twenty-four seven.”

“Hmmm. You’ve always said you wouldn’t marry. And you work two jobs,” she reminds me. No, I know she’s not trying to upset me, but more like playing devil’s advocate. Still, her comments make my gut burn. Yeah, I might have said I wouldn’t marry, but that was after watching my mom try to divorce an ungrateful prick who used the fuck out of her and then ran like the fucking coward that he is. And yes, I do work two jobs, no thanks to the ungrateful prick.

“I know I did, but she’s different.”

Her deep brown eyes, reflecting so much love and hope for me, stare up at me. “I’d like to meet her. It’s not right that the boys got to meet her – and kill her, as I was told after I picked them up from school the next day. Promise you’ll bring her by soon.”

“I promise,” I tell my mom, bending over and kissing her forehead. Her brown hair has much more gray in it than it used to, and she refuses to color it. Every bit of extra income is gone and things like hair dye, pedicures, and manicures are things she doesn’t indulge in.

Thinking of Lexi, that gives me an idea.

The front door bursts open with a bang and noise follows in the wake of two brown haired little eight-year-olds.

“Linkin!” Jeff hollers as he runs into the room, tossing his book bag onto the middle of the floor and causing Jack to trip over it.

“Hey, dorkface! Pick up your stuff so people don’t trip over it,” Jack reprimands his twin brother.

“Whatever, peabrain! You leave your Legos all over the room for me to step on,” Jeff says, standing right next to me, his arms crossed over his chest, mimicking my own stance.

“Both of you need to be more considerate and pick up after yourselves. One of these days, Mom is going to trip over something that one of you left lying around and she’s going to get hurt.” I give them both a pointed look, waiting for them to make their next move.

“Sorry,” Jeff says, walking over and grabbing his book bag.

“Come on, doofus. Let’s go booby-trap the door so the Army guys shoot Linkin when he comes in,” Jack suggests as they both take off down the small hallway.

“That went well,” I huff, making Mom giggle.

“They’re constantly booby-trapping everything. I have to check the toilet seat before I sit down.”

“I don’t know where they get it,” I retort, waiting for her attack.

“Whatever!” she exclaims. “Those boys are the spitting image of their older brother,” she adds, snapping the towel again and hitting me in the bicep.

“Fine, they might get it honestly.”

After a few minutes of silence–well, silence in the kitchen. You can hear what sounds like a war zone coming from the small bedroom at the back of the house–Mom continues. “Promise me you’ll bring her by. I want to meet her.”

“I already promised.”

“I know you did, but I just wanted to make sure you knew how serious I was.”

“I wouldn’t have told you about her if I wasn’t ready for you to meet her,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around the woman who raised me. She’s small and frail-like, which pisses me off all over again. Mom has always been full of life and energy, but the king-sized dick sucked it out of her in just eight short years of marriage.

Mom and Arnie hadn’t dated long before she got pregnant with the boys. For some reason, she decided to marry him. At first, it seemed all right. I was in high school, working part time at an auto parts store, chasing girls, and drag racing cars, so I’ll admit that I didn’t pay as much attention to her and him as I should have. Everything seemed fine–at least on the outside–so I went about my teenage life, making money, chasing tail, and getting my own shithole of a place. Things had been going well, until about nine months ago.

Then everything changed.

Everything came crashing down.

I’m a lot more cautious with my own life, but I’m damn sure more aware of her and the boys. I know I’m going to have to tell Lexi about it, but I just hate reliving this bullshit. I don’t want her to look at me with pity in those deep green eyes. That would kill me. Because I don’t want or need anyone’s pity. I’m fixing the mess he created, and that’s all anyone needs to know.

When the brownies are done and the bags are loaded into my car, I head towards my place with two mini tornados riding in the backseat. I can’t help but wonder what Lexi’s doing tonight. If I’ve only got a week to convince her to let me father her baby, then I’m going to take advantage of every free moment I can get with her.

Starting tonight.

It’s time that ‘Operation Knock Her Up’ commences.

 

* * *

 

I knock on her door just after five. The television is on, some high-drama reality show crying through the wall. When she opens the door, I’m struck stupid for the second time today. Just looking at her hurts. She’s gorgeous. Much shorter than I am, with long sexy legs that beg to wrap around my waist, long brown hair with streaks of copper running through it, the biggest, brightest green eyes I’ve ever seen, and soft, fragrant, lightly tanned skin. She instantly reduces me to a hard-on.

Always.

“Hey,” she whispers, rubbing her eyes.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I had been up for a bit. I needed a little nap after… I don’t usually drink in the mornings on a Sunday, okay. Especially after a night with my sisters.”

“Hey, no judgment,” I assure her. Nope, not me. I remember my early twenties, when I was living on my own and drinking and partying most of my paychecks away. Sunday morning drinks were a common occurrence for a period of my life.

“Anyway,” she starts, but leaves the sentence hanging.

“Oh, so the knuckleheads are over for the night, and I was thinking that since I only have a week to convince you, I’m making dinner. Would you like to come over?” Then I hold my breath, which is crazy because I’ve never been this excited and nervous for a woman to accept a dinner invitation before. Of course, actual dinner invites haven’t been that common either. I’m more of a meet a girl at a bar and take her home for the night kinda guy.

At least I was.

“Oh,” she says, a hint of nerves laced in her voice.

“I mean, the boys will be there, so you’ll have to try to keep your hands to yourself for a night.” Just to get a rise out of her, I throw her a smirk.

Lexi just rolls her eyes. “I think I can manage,” she sasses, turning and grabbing her keys and phone.

When she steps into the hallway, I’m instantly assaulted by her scent. It’s clean with a touch of sweet. I want to lick her. Fuck, I’d lick her like a lollipop until she’s moaning and withering beneath my tongue, and then I’d do it some more just to watch the sight of her coming undone all over again.

Discreetly adjusting my crotch, I lead her towards my door. The boys are killing each other in the living room, Jeff standing over Jack, driving his big fake sword into his gut repeatedly. “Boys, knock it off. We have a guest.”

“Lexi!” Jack hollers, jumping up and running our way. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

I burst into laughter, while Lexi gives me a look, as if she’s blaming me for his come-on. I raise my hands in defeat and try to wipe the smile off my face. My little brother is definitely a charmer. “Don’t look at me.”

“I bet you were just like him when you were younger, always charming the teachers out of no homework and the girls out of their juice boxes.”

Leaning forward until our noses are practically touching, I whisper, “Actually, it was their pudding cups.” Her eyes dilate with hunger and fire spreads through my veins as I draw out the last two words.

“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it. You’re trouble,” she states pointedly.

“Naw, I’m a good boy, Firecracker. I just enjoy getting a little bad with the right woman,” I tell her with a wink before turning my attention to the pile of ingredients on the counter.

“What are you making?” she asks, leaning her hip against the counter.

“Pasketti,” Jeff hollers from the living room.

“Spaghetti,” I correct with a smile.

“That’s what I said,” Jeff grumbles before turning his attention back to the television.

“Hope you’re okay with Italian,” I say, placing a pot of water on the stove to boil. Next, I grab a cutting board and get to cutting Italian sausage into bite-size pieces.

“That sounds great. Can I help with something?” she offers, looking around at the meager ingredients. Just one glance her way has my blood pumping and my cock stirring. Sure, she could help with something, but I don’t think that’s what she’s offering.

“Well, I’m just using jar sauce, but I usually add some mushrooms to the mix, if you like them. The boys pick them out, but we can definitely leave them out if you’re not a fan.”

“I love mushrooms,” she replies, grabbing the small can of bits and pieces mushrooms and the can opener. “You know, I have a pretty easy spaghetti sauce recipe that my grandma taught all of us. I could show you sometime,” she adds casually, her delicate little shoulders shrugging slightly.

Lexi must feel my eyes on her because she glances my way. I offer her a small smile, the prospect of her coming over sometime to share a recipe and help me cook, warming my blood. “That’d be great.”

Once the sausage is in the pan and simmering on low, I break the spaghetti noodles in half and throw them into the water. Next, I crank the oven temperature up to four hundred and get the garlic breadsticks ready on a cookie sheet.

Glancing over, I find Lexi at the stove, stirring around the meat so it doesn’t scorch. A weird sensation sweeps through my body, and I find myself just staring. She looks so comfortable and so fucking hot standing in my kitchen that my level of contentment stops me in my tracks.

I want this.

This foreign feeling that seems a hell of a lot like happiness.

We work side by side as we finalize dinner, co-existing as if we’ve been here for years. Neither of us talk, but words aren’t needed. Every time I steal a few glances, she’s looking at me, a small smile playing on those lips. Yeah, those lips. The ones I’ve been dreaming about kissing again until I’m dizzy with lust and hard enough to jackhammer concrete.

“Spaghetti’s ready,” I holler at the boys as I move the sauce from the counter to the table.

Before I can even grab a plate, Lexi has a plate in one hand and the other in front of her on the counter, scooping a pile of noodles onto both plates. She moves effortlessly as she adds sauce, meat, and a garlic breadstick to each plate. Then, she delivers them to the table, where my brothers are waiting. Grabbing a pitcher of lemonade that I made earlier, I pour them each a small glass, then two larger ones for us.

“Jeff, use your napkin, not your hand,” I advise, grabbing a paper napkin from the pile and setting it beside him.

“My pasketti is the best!” he exclaims, mouth full of half-chewed food.

“Spaghetti,” I say.

“That’s what I said!”

Smiling, I grab the last plate and pile it high with carbs. Lexi’s already sitting at the table, laughing at something Jack is saying, and looks so relaxed, so much younger than her twenty-five years. She looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world, as if the stresses of everyday life and those extra ones associated with her douchecanoe ex, no longer exist.

Suddenly, I’m more determined than ever to keep that look on her face.

After dinner, she helps clean up the mess, even though I tell her not to. I can clean up the dishes after she leaves and the boys are in bed. But since she’s offering to help, I’m not about to miss a single second of having her in my kitchen, working side by side to complete a chore as simple as washing dishes.

Instead of watching The Gladiator, I find a show I like called Forged in Fire. Of course the boys are into it since the premise of the show is making knives. Lexi sits beside me on the couch as the boys demonstrate how they’d use each knife made to maim and kill their opponent.

When it gets a little gruesome, I redirect their attention to dessert. Even though they still watch the show, the boys eat ice cream with a chocolate shell that hardens. “Watch, Lex! I’m going to kill my ice cream,” Jack says, stabbing the shell with his spoon and breaking it apart into small pieces.

“You better eat it before it melts. Otherwise, I’m going to,” she says, smiling fondly down at my brother. They’re sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, eyes wide and riveted as two remaining bladesmiths battle for the title of champion of the episode.

She dips her spoon into her ice cream and scoops up a bit of the hard chocolate shell before slipping it into her mouth. I almost moan out loud as she licks the bottom of the spoon, my pants tightening with each second I watch. Her eyes find mine on her, hot and yearning.

“Do I have some on my face?”

“If you did, I’d just lick it off,” I tell her, watching hypnotically as her sexy little tongue slips out and slides along the corner of her mouth.

“Dirty bird,” she mumbles.

“You have no idea the things playing through my mind right now.” Like you naked while I suck melted ice cream off your tits. “If I close my eyes, I’d be watching porn.”

She giggles and takes another spoonful of melting ice cream. Her eyes are on mine as she brings it to her mouth and dips her tongue into the sweet, cold mixture, swirling it around and coating the tip of her tongue in white.

My balls start to ache.

“That’s not very nice, seductress.”

“Do you want a bite?”

“Are we talking about the ice cream or something else? Because yes, I definitely want a bite,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and slowly drawing it towards my mouth.

Her eyes are emerald balls of fire as she watches me bring the spoon to my mouth. My tongue darts out, lazily licking the same cream where her tongue just trailed. Her mouth opens and she starts to pant when I slowly slide my tongue along the top of the spoon, parting the ice cream, before wrapping my mouth completely around it and closing. When I swallow, I make sure to do it slowly, my eyes locked on hers the entire time.

Erotic. As. Fuck.

After a moment, she pulls the spoon from my mouth. Clearing her throat, she says, “Okay. We should definitely eat more ice cream.”

“Bedtime!” I holler, jumping off the couch as if my ass were on fire.

“No!” Jeff yells, while Jack grabs his sword. “Let’s duel this out.”

“No duels. No arguing. Bedtime.”

The boys say goodnight to Lexi, and I have to practically drag them to their bedroom as if they were off to their deaths. Never mind that it’s exactly eight thirty, which is their bedtime, but they’re so used to staying up a little past it when they’re with me that they’re not taking the bedtime enforcement so well.

After they brush their teeth and get in bed, I turn on the nightlight and give them hugs. “Good night, boys,” I say as I step back into the hall, leaving the door cracked just a hair.

Lexi’s still on one end of the couch, too far away from where I want her.

Which is in my arms.

“Come here,” I whisper hoarsely, reaching for her body, needing to feel it against mine. She moves easily, crawling into my lap.

My cock is strained against my pants, but I make no move to adjust it to a comfortable position. I’m afraid that if I move, she’ll disappear. Instead, I keep my hands in contact with her soft skin as much as possible. I slide my hands up her arms, reveling in the way goose bumps pepper her flesh. Her eyes blaze with a need, a desire, that I can’t describe–can only feel.

Her lips move as she leans forward. They’re slightly parted and the sight of them inching closer and closer turns me on like a light switch. Her eyes flutter closed just before our lips connect when we hear, “I need to use the potty.”

Cockblocked by an eight-year-old.

Lexi jumps in my lap, pulling back until she practically falls on the floor.

“Were you two kissing?” Jeff giggles while Jack goes into the bathroom.

“No,” she gasps at the same time I say, “Yep.”

She jumps the rest of the way off my lap, returning to her half of the couch, and curling her legs into her chest. “Come on, knuckleheads. Back to bed,” I say, rubbing my hands over my face and willing my hard-on to subside.

They’re giggling like girls when I enter the bedroom. “Are we done getting up?”

“You were kissing. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“First comes love.”

“Then comes marriage.”

“That’s enough, boys,” I interrupt their chanting and tuck them back into their bunks. “Sleep. You have school in the morning.”

“I hate school,” Jeff grumbles.

“I love it. Miss Hillengoss always wears pretty high heels,” Jack smirks.

“You’re too young to notice that,” I reply, shaking my head. “Goodnight,” I add as I step back out of the room, closing the door as I go. I can hear them laughing on the other side.

It’s still not quiet when I reach the living room, but I join her on the couch once more. My cock is strained against my pants, begging to come out and play. But he’s just gonna have to wait, because that’s not happening tonight.

“Are they asleep?” she asks softly, her arms wrapping around my waist once more. The way she’s leaning against me brings her dangerously close to my zipper, causing my dick to pound against the restraint in protest.

“Not with you here. They’ll probably need to pee again in a few minutes or want a glass of water.”

“I should go.”

“Probably,” I agree, pulling her tighter against my body. Nope, she’s not going anywhere yet.

“This doesn’t feel like me leaving,” she whispers, her small fingers flexing against my shirt, making my abs jump. I’d kill for her touch against my bare skin right now.

“Nope. I can’t let you leave yet,” I say, picking her up and moving her. She straddles my front, my cock so fucking close to the one place it wants to be more than anything. I’d gladly give up air right now if it meant being inside her.

“Why not?” Her breath hits my face like a caress, and all I want to do is kiss this woman.

So I do.

“Because I haven’t told you goodnight yet.”

My lips claim hers with a fierceness I’ve come to associate with only her. She immediately opens her sweet mouth, allowing my tongue to plunder and take. Taste. My tongue moves against hers, stroking and licking, claiming with every second that passes. My hands move to the back of her neck, into her hair, holding her firmly as my mouth devours her. I hold her as if I’m afraid she’ll move or leave, and that what I was given won’t be enough.

It’ll never be enough.

I’ll keep craving more.

Her hands grip my shirt as she grinds against my crotch. My cock swells further, every ounce of blood I possess flowing to one concentrated area. I’m lightheaded and dizzy, a feeling I get every time this woman is in my arms.

I need to touch her skin. I need her to touch mine. I need…more.

Quickly, I rip my shirt over my head and toss it somewhere in the room. Her fingers flex against my pecs, branding them with one touch. My mind flashes to the night I danced for her, the way her fingers danced against my body. Electricity charges through me, reckless and destructive, making my hips flex upward, my aching cock seeking out her sweet pussy.

“I need to touch you,” I tell her without removing my lips from hers.

“Yes,” she groans, moving her hips and driving me wild.

“Back up,” I instruct. She instantly shifts back, giving me room to open the button and zipper of her pants.

Once I have access, I pull her back and attack her lips again. They’re swollen and wet and just fucking right. My hands go to her shirt, sliding beneath the material and up towards her glorious tits. I’ve seen some pretty nice ones in my life. Big ones, small ones, fake ones, but none as perfect as hers. They fill my hand as if they were made for my palm.

Lexi mewls as her tongue slides into my mouth, stroking against mine and plunging deep, mimicking to the dirty images in my head of what my cock wants to do to her pussy.

“I want to do so many dirty things to you,” I confess, sliding my hand inside of her bra and pinching her nipple.

“God yes. All of it. I want you to do all of it,” she gasps, grinding down hard of my dick.

“I will,” I tell her, slipping my hand down her stomach, to where her pants are open.

Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I slide my hand between her panties and hot flesh. It’s a tight fit, especially with my large mitts, but I manage. The material is already wet and as soon as I come in contact with her warm, soaked pussy, I have to fight the urge to groan.

My fingers immediately slip between her lips, where her clit pulses hard. Her eyes start to glaze over, her eyelids drooping slightly as I apply a little pressure and move my hand. Her hips start to gyrate, her body riding my hand, seeking out the orgasm I’m promising.

“Oh God,” she groans quietly, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“I want your hands on me, beautiful,” I tell her as I pick up the pace.

Like an electrical current, shockwaves zap through me as her fingers come in contact with my bare chest. She grips my pecs, her nails digging into the tender flesh. Just the thought of her marking me makes me crazed. Fueled. Ravenous.

Her lids flutter closed and I can tell she’s getting close. “Keep your eyes open, beautiful. I want to watch you come,” I say, slipping my fingers down farther. Her hips buck wildly as I slide a finger inside of her body. She’s hot, wet, and tight. So fucking tight it makes my balls throb.

When she tightens around my finger, I realize she’s on the brink of coming. My lips find hers as my fingers push her over the edge. I swallow every sound she makes, flexing my fingers and continuing to pump one inside her pussy. She closes her eyes briefly, but only when it seems almost impossible to keep them open any longer. Lexi sags against me, her muscles starting to relax against my fingers.

“Wow,” she whispers as I slowly pull from her body. My cock is practically shouting in my pants that it’s his turn, but I ignore the horny bastard. Now isn’t the time.

“Watching you come might be my favorite thing in the whole world,” I confess, pulling my hand out of her panties, and because I’m a dirty bastard like my cock, I bring that lucky finger to my mouth and slip it inside. I can’t stop the moan as her scent surrounds me, wrapping around me and soothing my battered soul. She tastes like sex, like desire, like my woman.

And she is.

Mine.