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Wasted: Falcon Brothers (Steel Country Book 3) by MJ Fields (12)

Chapter Eleven

Harder

Grayson

The situation, being around her, is becoming harder and harder and harder by the second. I have to force myself not to stare at her nice, round ass when she’s bent over. Already I can’t see her cry without wanting to fuck her or feed her chocolate. And for some fucking reason, I can’t stay away.

Redirect, I tell myself. So, I do.

“What were the tears for?”

She looks back at me briefly, then turns her back and holds up the flower she just snipped. “Mom’s favorite.”

“It makes you sad?”

She shakes her head, and I swear I can smell the scent of her shampoo wafting through the air. It fucks with me.

“She sends signs.” She shrugs then continues snipping and moving down the row.

I cut off a few more sunflowers to bring to Mags. They are her favorite. “Signs?”

She looks back at me with questioning eyes.

“Fuck, okay, none of my business.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asks, shaking her head.

“What? Helping with flowers? Mags,” I tell her.

“No, talking to me, asking me questions. You don’t have to worry about me saying a word to Phoenix, okay? You’re off the hook.”

“Blue?”

“God, Grayson.” She groans in frustration.

“Told you I don’t know how to do this friends shit,” I snap.

She looks at me and shakes her head. Then she looks away again and clips another flower.

“So, we can’t be—”

“No,” she immediately interrupts.

“Oh, wow. So, you really just want to fuck me?”

She spins around and points the scissors at me. “Today is a day to celebrate love. Today is a big day, huge, and they need these flowers. So instead of”—she points the scissors at my dick—“all that, just let it be about flowers and love.”

“Your mom’s favorite flowers?” I ask, and she points the scissors at me again. I hold my hand over my semi-chub. “Can you point them somewhere else?”

“Can you just stop, then?”

I nod. “But you and I need to be friendly, Mandee. Gonna be a long day if we are fighting.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Grayson,” she says as the scissors snip louder.

“You just want to fuck me?”

To that, she laughs and turns around, still laughing as she hands me a flower. “There. I’m so sorry if my wanting to have sex offended you, sweet lips—”

“Hot lips,” I correct.

“Fine. Now there’s a flower. Do you feel better now?”

I try to hold back my smile, but I can’t. “I feel a little better.”

I hold the flower up to my nose and smell it, and she laughs. God, I love that smile, that laugh.

“Still feel a little like a piece of meat, though.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she turns around and bends down. Fucking ass in the air, and the skirt hiding those black panties.

You feel like a piece of meat?” she asks, looking over her shoulder and catching me eye-fucking her ass.

“Your ass is the epitome of perfection, Mandee,” I tell her, trying to stop fucking staring at it.

“Yeah, sure.”

She continues clipping, and I continue staring.

After I help her clip some more flowers, I look at my phone. “Hey, girl, forty minutes till I do.”

“Oh, wow, dammit, wow.” She’s upset as she starts to walk quickly toward Mags’ cabin and stumbles over the bucket.

I reach to grab her, hoping to catch her, but she’s too far away. Instead of catching her, I end up on her.

She looks up at me, doe eyes, red lips, perfect fucking skin, and then shuts her eyes tightly.

“We need to—”

“Yeah, I know. You good?”

She nods, eyes still closed.

“You sure?”

When her eyes open, I see that fucking look. Clouds, man, fucking clouds.

“Why are you wearing black?” The words come out before I can think.

“My...my...” she stammers.

“Panties. Is it for him?”

She closes her eyes again and quickly shakes her head back and forth.

“I really fucking liked the white,” I tell her, leaning in closer.

Her eyes squint tighter. “Sorry?”

“First girl I ever got off to was walking out of that lake, just like you did the other day. Hard as stone.”

She whimpers.

“Gotten off to that vision every time I fuck.” I don’t tell her, until I met you. “I wanna be your fucking friend, Mandee. So, I’m telling you, I fucked up the other day. Wish I didn’t, but it happened. But, if I fuck you, hurt you, leave here, which will happen, not sure how I’m gonna deal with that. But I’m fucking sick of not being around you.”

Her eyes open, and she looks kind of lost, deer-in-the-headlights kind of lost.

“You have any desire to be my friend after all this, do me a favor. Keep wearing black, keep hanging out with that little fucking bitch Blue, and I can keep my shit in check. But I never want to be the fucking reason you cry.”

She doesn’t say a damn thing for a long minute. Then, “We have to go.”

I push myself up and reach down, holding my hand out to her. She takes it.

“Friends?”

She nods. “Sure.”

I grab the bucket and take her elbow with the other hand. I have no clue what she’s thinking, but I am relieved as hell I don’t have to stay the hell away from her anymore.

She starts heading toward the left, and I redirect her right.

“Got the four-wheeler over here,” I tell her.

“I’m in a dress.”

“You’ll be fine.”

After strapping the bucket full of Mandee’s mom’s favorite flowers to the four-wheeler, I get on. She climbs on behind me, and then I start it up and look back.

“Gotta have to hold—” I stop when she grips my hips, and then force myself to turn around.

I start out slow, wanting to take my damn time because, right now, she’s holding on to me. Don’t like to be touched by women. Feels too damn much like commitment. Mags and Mom, I’m committed to. Others, no. But Mandee...well, it feels fucking good.

When I hit a bump, one of her hands detach from my hip. Afraid she may fall, I grab it quickly and pull it around my waist, and she grips my shirt. As I speed up, she wraps her other arm around me. Then, when I go faster, she’s flat against me, holding tight. I have to force myself to not take the long way just to feel her body against mine.

I will my dick to not get any harder, knowing damn well it just may, but my dick’s not playing right now. It’s something else. Something in my chest tightens.

I don’t want to go back to the house. I want to enjoy this, her.

When we get closer, she starts to loosen her hold; one, then the other arm leaving me.

I turn off the engine then turn to look at her. “How long you been swimming at that pond?”

“A—”

“Come on!” Phoenix laughs from the porch.

Mandee shakes her head and smiles at her before turning back to me. “I need to do these.” She points to the flowers.

“I got it, sweet girl,” Mags says, walking toward us with her cane.

Fucking hell. Could they all just go away for ten minutes? I think to myself as I get off the four-wheeler.

As she slides off, she smiles at Mags and looks down a bit. “Oh, it’s no trouble, really.”

“How do you want them done?” Mags laughs, and Mandee grins. An adorable, little fucking grin, too.

“I was thinking twine, leaving the stems exposed. The white daisies for Juliana’s bouquet, and red for the rest. Oh, and maybe a couple red blended in with the white for the bride?” The excitement in her voice is also adorable. So damn childlike.

That girl, Mandee, she loves this fairy tale shit.

“I think I can do that.” Mags smiles at her.

“And maybe this bucket with whatever is left over for the alter area? Oh, I wish there were two. That would be—”

“Your description is all we need, sweet girl. Now go get dressed. The girls are waiting.”

She moves forward slightly, as if she wants hug Mags, but stops herself.

“Oh, bring it in.” Mags laughs, and then she does.

When she all but skips to the house, I grab up the sunflowers and hand them to Mags. “These are for you.”

“Such a gentleman.” She smiles and takes them. “You’re next, my boy.”

“Nah, Mags. Gage is next. All this, it’s not for me.”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Now, you and I have some things in common.”

“Yeah?”

“And we also have some differences we need to settle. Me being right; you being wrong.”

I shake my head.

“The commonality—this family. Your brothers, you and I both know they deserve the love they found.”

“Never said any different.”

“The difference is you, my boy, don’t think you do. I’m telling you, you do.”

“No desire, Mags.”

She holds up a daisy and smells it. “Oh, I think you do, my boy, I think you do.”

§

After helping Mags out with the flower shit, getting another bucket of more flowers and doing whatever she tells me to do because being busy is better than having Mags and her eagle eye searching for truths in my eyes, I get washed up and get dressed.

Standing in front of the mirror, fucking with the black and red plaid flannel tie, the door opens and Mom walks in.

She takes my shoulder and turns me around. “Still haven’t mastered this, huh?” she asks as she undoes the mess I made of it.

“Jeans and tees don’t require all this,” I answer, avoiding looking at her.

“Think you can act like my son today?” she asks.

“Never have acted any way different.”

“Gray, you do when your father is around.”

“Be glad it’s not often, then,” I answer, trying not to snap.

“I think he’s considering coming back Stateside, and not just for a couple weeks this time,” she tells me, and I look down.

“And you’re gonna let him?” Now I don’t hold back my disgust.

“He’s my husband,” she answers firmly.

“Yeah, well, he’s—”

“He’s my husband, your father, Garrett’s father, Gage’s—”

“Gage is the lucky one to not have his blood running through his veins.”

“Gage is also lucky he has a man who accepted a woman with a child into his busy life, married her, and gave her two more beautiful boys who will never have to know what it’s like to go hungry.”

“And never know what it means to have a father who’s around, or treat a woman how—”

“Can I have a minute with my son?” my father, Arnoldo, interrupts.

“Got shit to do,” I say, not giving him eye contact. Fucker doesn’t deserve it.

After giving the damn bowtie a final tug, Mom pushes up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek before she leaves.

I step toward the door, but he shuts it behind her.

“I want five minutes—”

“You have one,” I snarl.

“What happens between your mother and I is not your concern. If you want to cause problems, I can do the same.”

“Do you think I’m afraid of you?” I laugh.

“I think my three sons enjoy the lifestyle they’ve grown accustomed to. One that I afforded them.”

“Money means shit to me,” I spit at him.

“To someone who’s always had it, yes. To those who have little—”

“Men like you swoop in and make them feel like they should kiss their fucking feet. Not fucking interested in that, either.”

“I don’t need you to agree with me, Grayson. I need you to—”

“Keep my fucking mouth shut about your extracurricular activities? Your woman, your—”

“Watch yourself, son,” he warns. “Seems everyone is happy. You wouldn’t want that rug pulled out from under them, now would you?”

To that, I laugh.

“They’ve all hurt enough. I wouldn’t do that to them. But you, I’d destroy if I could for what you have done.” I push past him and walk out of the bathroom.

“I’m not finished.”

I look back and laugh. “Yes, you are, old man.”

When I turn back around, I see Gage, Garrett, Jase, and Ricco looking at me.

“You ready to do this, man?” I ask Garrett.

“Damn right, I am.” He is all smiles, oblivious to what could have fucked up his day, and I’m damn sure glad about that.

I look out of the corner of my eye at Gage, who is looking at me with concern.

I give him a wink and a smile. “Let me grab my guitar.”

“Glory.” Garrett nods.

I nod back. “Yeah, her name is Glory.”

§

Sitting on a hay bale, my brothers and Jase and Ricco to my right, I wait for the nod then start playing. I close my eyes as I start, seeking my muse in the darkness inside. When she’s visible, I start strumming the strings. When it’s time to open up my mouth, to let loose the feelings in the notes, to sing a song that means a whole lot to my brother, I look at him.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago, hoping I would find true love”—I turn to look for his love, but it’s Mandee coming down the burlap aisle—“along the broken road. But I got lost a time or two, wiped my brow, kept pushing through. I couldn’t see how every sign pointed straight to you...

She looks fucking beautiful. I mean, she always does, but that little black dress, those boots, her fucking hair, the black and red flannel tied up just below her tits...Christ, I think as I look up at her face.

Her eyes show confusion, her head cocked to the side slightly, her brows knit a bit, but that smile stays right there on her face, regardless of how fucking confused she looks. Then that smile turns a little sad when she looks up to the sky and smiles, sighs, then looks back at me.

I fumble a little with the change in chords before the chorus, needing to look the fuck away from her or I will be singing a whole different song.

Somehow, my eyes land on him, my fucking father. I let him know, too. I let him know that he’s the fucking one who broke us. All of us.

I again seek out Mandee, who has a tear sliding down her cheek, but a smile, albeit sad, on that beautiful face of hers.

I can’t handle that crying as I continue the song, so I look for Mags and start the next verse. This part of the song is all Mags.

I think about the years I spent just passing through...” I continue singing as she places her hand on her heart and smiles. “But you just smile and take my hand. You’ve been there, you understand. It’s all part of a grander plan...” I nod toward Garrett and finish the verse, still looking at Mags. “It’s all part of a grander plan that is coming true.

She lights up. She deserves to light up. She’s been the one constant love in this family.

I look back at Garrett and watch him as he sees Juliana coming down the aisle with Brand.

Finishing the song, my eyes land on her. “That God bless the broken road that led me straight to you.

I set my guitar down and stand directly across from Mandee, who nods her head once. I must look concerned because she does it again, slower now. Still confused and oblivious to her, she holds the flowers, red daisies, up to her nose and smells them. Then she nods again.

When she looks out across the yard, I follow her gaze, seeing the four-wheeler. Then I look back at her, and she shrugs, gives another slight nod, then looks away.

After the short ceremony, Garrett and Juliana link arms and walk toward the house. Phoenix and Gage, Jase and Carly, and Ricco and Kat fall in line.

When face-to-face with Mandee, she links her arm through mine and whispers, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I have been going to the lake, to get away.”

“How fucking long?” I snarl, pissed at what she’s telling me.

“Since I was old enough to drive,” she says at the end of the aisle, then unlinks her arm and looks at me. “And Grayson, I rarely wear anything other than white.”

While I’m trying to wrap my head around her being...her, she walks away, leaving me standing there, watching her round ass walk toward the limos.

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