Tap: Men of Lovibond by Georgia Cates (9)

The devil is perched on one shoulder whispering in my ear. What are you doing, stupid motherfucker? You had her shoved against the wall with your hands in her shorts. And she loved it. You could be between her legs right now if you’d played your cards right. But you didn’t. You took the pussy’s way out.

I’m pretty sure Wren was going to let me fuck her. And I walked away. She’ll never know how hard that was for me.

I did the right thing. I don’t question that for a moment. So why do I feel so miserable? Shouldn’t I be proud of myself?

The devil leans in closer to whisper in my ear again. You’re miserable because you’ll be jacking off tonight instead of fucking a gorgeous blonde. You should turn this car around and go back to her.

I would love nothing more than to say fuck it all and go back to Wren. When she’d open the door, I’d throw her over my shoulder and carry her to the bedroom. I’d toss her on the bed and worship her body from head to toe. I’d make her come over and over.

I really need to get home so I can take care of myself.

I look at my phone and wish like hell she’d text me.

Come back.

I don’t care what Ollie thinks or says.

I want you.

There’s not a bit of doubt in my mind. If she reached out to me, I couldn’t resist Lawrence Thorn again if my life depended on it.

A familiar ping alerts me to a new text.

Shit. There it is. A message from Wren. The very one I was hoping to get.

I’m ecstatic until my brain registers that she sent it to Stout’s phone. Not mine. Fuck.

I have to respond the way Stout would.

I’ve seen Stout call Wren sis and say this exact same thing in some of their older messages. Should be safe.

Dammit. Why’d she have to ask that?

That damn little devil is still on my shoulder. She thinks the messages she’s receiving from this phone are from her brother. You can say anything and she’ll believe you. Take advantage. Let her believe she has her brother’s blessing.

I’ve been lying to Wren but it’s been nothing of any consequence. This is different. A serious kind of deceit.

It’s killing me to tell her that. But it’s what Stout would say.

Stout considers me a womanizer. He wouldn’t hesitate to tell his sister about that aspect of my life. But I can’t. I don’t want to paint myself in that light.

No. I guess she never will know me or how I am. I’m a little surprised by how that makes me feel.

Sounds like a brotherly thing to say. I think.

She really likes me? Shit. Now I really want to turn this car around.

But seeing the proof of her liking me changes nothing. She’s Stout’s sister. He’s my partner. And she’s still off limits.

I’ve shared more I love yous with Lawrence Thorn in the last couple of weeks than anyone else in my life. Ever. I thought the words would feel empty. They were intended for someone I didn’t know and from someone other than myself, although I was the one typing them. Oddly, I haven’t grown immune to them at all. I feel a little jab to the heart every time I tell her. And I think there may be a bit of a twist to the jab now that I’ve met her.

Oh, shit. Wren doesn’t have her car. She’ll need a ride to pick it up in the morning. I’m the one who convinced her to leave it. Doesn’t that make me responsible for making sure she gets it back?

I have to text her. I don’t have a choice.

I get to see her one last time before she goes. That doesn’t suck.

What’s easier? Alleviating the need for me to pick her up and take her to her car or her leaving without seeing me?

I have never uttered, nor texted, those words to a woman. Ever.

A minute passes. And another. She must be thinking hard about her reply.

Those two letters make me extremely happy.

The driver lets me out of the Suburban at the entrance to the festival. Plastic cups and napkins litter the grounds. Do people not know what a trashcan is for?

I find Porter and the Lovibond gang at our booth straightening the disarray. “Wow. This is a damn mess.”

“You missed the last-call rush. It was fucking crazy. Where’d you disappear to?”

“I had to take Lawrence to Stout’s apartment.”

Porter stops and stares at me. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. We’re all here working, and you’re off trying to get a piece of ass from our business partner’s sister?” I want to punch Porter in the face for talking that way about Wren.

He isn’t far off from the truth, but it’s not an announcement for him to make in front of our staff. “Can I see you privately?’

Porter tosses the towel in his hand on the table. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

I walk until I’m certain we’re out of earshot. “What the hell was that all about?”

“You’ve been with Lawrence all day.”

“I fulfilled all my job duties. Every aspect. I landed four new accounts today. I'm set to get more tomorrow. I made rounds on every guest brewery. I judged the home brew competition and did a damn good job of picking the best according to you. Name one way I failed Lovibond.”

He doesn’t have an answer for that. “What has crawled up your ass?”

“Stout won't like what you're doing with his sister.” And it doesn’t look like Porter does either.

“I’m not doing anything with Lawrence except watching over her and making her feel welcome. That's it.”

“Be sure to keep it that way because none of us can afford a fallout over her. Not me. Not you. Not Stout. Or any of those people who work their asses off for us at the brewery.”

“Stout and I have already had the Lawrence conversation.” I don’t owe Porter an explanation but there it is anyway. Maybe it’ll get him off my back.

“Good. You know where he stands, so get your ass over here and help us clean up so we can go home, sleep fast, and do this again tomorrow.”

* * *

It was two in the morning when I finally rolled into bed. Sleep didn’t find me easily. But visions of Wren in that camisole with no bra did.

I wanted to touch her tits so badly. Rub my thumbs over her hard nipples pushing against the fabric of her top. I went for her sweet round ass with the intention of moving on to those perky tits next.

Didn’t happen.

I grew a hard-on and then a fucking conscience. Bad combination.

I bet I barely got three hours of sleep last night, but I’m still up and ready for her call at any time.

I’m on my second cup of coffee when she texts.

Wren opens the door and I’m blown away by how beautiful she is. Not because she’s dressed in something elaborate and wearing a ton of makeup. Total opposite. She’s barefaced with a single braid down the middle of her back. Natural beauty.

I hold up the bag of coffee and box of tea I picked up on the way over. “Both organic. Think you have time for a cup before you have to go?” Or two cups? Maybe three? I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give.

“I think I can stick around long enough to have one.” I follow her into the kitchen and she holds up both. “Which would you prefer?”

I don’t care. Whichever will last longer. “Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”

She opens the box of chai tea and takes out two bags. “What time did you make it in last night?”

“Two.”

“Good grief. What time did you get up?”

“Six.” I sit at the dining table and watch Wren flutter around the kitchen. She’s like a graceful butterfly.

“Ouch. Four hours of sleep?”

I wish. “More like two. Maybe three.”

“Why so little?”

“I was wound pretty tight last night.” As was my hand as I fantasized about what was beneath that little cami you were wearing.

“You must have been after making sure the festival went off without a hitch.” No. That wasn’t the reason at all. You were.

“Day one of operation beer fest was a success. Hopefully today goes as well.”

“I’m sure it will. I know Ollie must be bummed he’s missing it.”

“He has to be.” But, no worries. I’m letting his ass take over the next festival.

“Do you take milk and sugar in your tea?” Wren goes to the refrigerator but promptly shuts it. “Forgot. No milk. Sugar only then?”

“I’ll take mine however you do.”

She puts a spoonful of white granules in one cup and stirs. “You don’t drink tea, do you?”

“Not this kind.”

Wren looks at me and huffs. I think she does that often. “I would have been happy to make you coffee.”

Another dose of caffeine could do me in. “It’s only seven thirty and I’ve had two cups. I didn’t need a third.”

“Okay, but if you don’t like it, I’m making you a pot of coffee.”

“Deal.”

We migrate to the living room with her leading the way. She takes a seat on one end of the couch so I choose the opposite. I don’t want to be in the chair across from her. It’s too far away.

She dips her teabag up and down by the string so I mimic her. “I feel so dainty.”

“Well, I must admit it’s a little entertaining to watch a manly, bearded man dip that teabag like that.” Hmm… she’s thought about me enough to come to the conclusion I’m manly. Interesting.

She continues dunking so I do too. “You don’t consider chai tea a man drink?”

She watches me for a moment. “I’ve never given it much thought, but after seeing you do that I’ve come to the conclusion it isn’t.”

Wren uses her spoon to press the bag so I follow her cue. And tilt the damn cup over so far a huge portion of my tea spills in my lap. I set my cup of hot-ass liquid on the coffee table and spring up from the couch to tug the fabric away from my skin. “Oh, motherfucker, that is hot.”

Wren leaps up from the couch and sprints into the kitchen, quickly returning with a towel in hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I made the damn mess.” I take the towel from her and wipe the crotch of my jeans. “I think we can agree I don’t have enough grace to be a tea drinker.”

“I concur.”

The hot tea on my crotch turns cold quickly. “Do you mind if I grab a pair of Stout’s pants so I can put my jeans in the dryer for a few minutes? I don’t think it’ll take long for them to dry.”

“Sure. I’ll grab some for you.”

Wren returns a moment later holding elastic-waisted pants. “These okay?”

“That works. Thanks.”

I go into the bathroom to strip out of my jeans and find my boxer briefs took a nice hit as well. Shit. Those have to go into the dryer too.

I come out of the bathroom free-balling beneath thin white linen pants. Real thin.

Wren holds out her hand. “I’ll put those in the dryer for you.”

“I can do it.”

She holds out her hands. “I don’t mind.”

I guess I don’t have a choice. She’s going to handle my skivvies. “Thanks.”

She comes back to the living room wearing a grin. “You doused yourself pretty good.”

“Allow me to tell you a little something about me. I don’t do anything halfway. I go all the way.”

Wren giggles as she plants herself on the opposite end of the couch from me a second time. “I believe I’ve heard that line used before.”

“Yeah. I may have stolen it from a pretty girl I drank beer with once.”

Wren takes a sip of her tea. Much more graceful than me. “Sounds like a fun girl.”

“I enjoy her company very much. And she’s banging.”

She giggles some more and nearly spills her tea. “Banging, huh?”

“Oh yeah. And she’s a great kisser.”

“How many times have you kissed this girl?” Wren’s brow is wrinkled. I think she’s second-guessing if I’m talking about her.

“Only once. But it was amazing.” Truly.

“Why only once?”

“Because I was an idiot. I said things I didn’t mean, and now I’m afraid I may have messed up with her.”

Wren scoots forward to place her cup of tea on the coffee table. “Maybe you should try kissing her again so you can see what happens. She could be waiting for you to steal her breath.”

I slide across the middle cushion of the couch so I’m closer. When I reach her, I rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “You think this beautiful girl would let me take her breath away?”

I hear her breath moving coarsely in and out of her chest. “I think you already are.”

She needs to know where I stand. “If I start, I won’t stop this time.”

Wren licks her lips and rubs them together. “Don’t make promises you don’t plan to keep.”

I lean in and suck her bottom lip. I’ve wanted to do it since I watched that dribble of beer fall from the corner of her mouth last night.

I taste a patch of sweetness leftover from her tea. This kind of chai tea, I like. “So sweet.”

I move my mouth over hers and our tongues fall into a rhythmic wave. It’s a seductive swirl of soft, wet velvet. My God. I don’t know how I had the strength to pull away from her last night. In this moment, I’m powerless to stop.

The rhythm of our kiss is no longer slow and smooth. It’s erratic. Demanding. Unforgiving.

Wren pulls away from me, panting. “Breath successfully stolen.”

“I’m not done yet.” I drag my mouth along her jawline toward her ear, leaving kisses in its path.

Wren squirms when I kiss the sensitive spot below her earlobe. “Oh, that gives me chills all over.”

I love physical reactions beyond a woman’s control. Such a turn-on; those can’t be faked.

I move my mouth down her neck and kiss her shoulder. She’s such a squirmer. She’s nearly worked her way beneath me. Did she mean to do that?

I want to go further but I don’t know where her head is. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” She places her hands on each side of my face and drags her fingers through my beard. “Keep going.”

She doesn’t tell me the lines I can’t cross, yet I suspect she has some in place. Every woman does. “I need you to tell me what we’re doing, Wren.”

“You’re taking my breath away… in whatever form that may present itself.” I think she’s giving me free rein. Maybe.

“Tell me to stop at anytime and I will.”

“You promised you wouldn’t stop this time.” Holy. Shit.

“I did, didn’t I?”

She laces her fingers through the back of my hair and pulls me down. “I can pretend last night’s kiss didn’t happen. And I can also pretend a morning fuck before I leave didn’t happen either.” Wren just confirmed everything I need to know. She’s giving herself to me.

I grasp the back of her thighs and pull her all the way beneath me on the couch. “Any boundaries I can’t cross?”

“None.” Ah… the beauty of fucking a bohemian. They don’t have rules.

“I like that a lot.”

“It’s been a while. Despite what most people believe about people like me, I don’t make a habit of freely giving my body away.” Something else I like. I’m glad she doesn’t go around sleeping with just anyone. Maybe that’s sexist but I proudly own my feelings regarding it.

Wren is unlike any woman I’ve ever met. And certainly not like the ones I’m usually with. This is going to be good. Damn good.

“How long has it been?”

“More than a year.” Shit. That’s a long time. It’s added pressure to make this spectacular for her. “You look shocked. Or scared. I can’t decide which.”

“It’s a little surprising.”

“I told you I didn’t need a man to feel complete. I meant that.” I’m going to make her come so hard she’s going to know what she’s been missing.

I stroke the back of my hand down her cheek. Soft. Smooth. Delicate. “You’re beautiful, Wren.”

Most of the women I’ve been with are too skinny, and they hide behind masks of cosmetics. But not Wren. She’s an all-natural woman.

She’s very different from Bridgette, yet alike in many ways.

Both make me laugh.

Both put me at ease.

Both are so genuine.

I rub her hip and there’s actually something there to grab instead of skin-covered bone. Skinny isn’t attractive to me. I like curves and shape. Wren is everything I like in a woman.

She strokes my face again, running the tips of her fingers through my facial hair. “I love this, Brou. It’s my idea of manly beauty.” I’m used to being called Boudreaux. But I can get used to Brou if it’s coming from her.

“Manly beauty.” This is the second time she’s made a reference about me being manly. Makes me wonder if she’s ever been with a man she considers masculine. Well, I’m going to show her how much of a man I am. And not just once.

I lower myself until I’m hovering over her. I press my lips to the side of her neck as I grasp the back of her thigh and bend it at the knee. That’s it, baby. Wrap it around me.

I glide my hand up the back of her smooth leg until it’s inside her shorts. And panties. Same song from last night. Second verse. But it’s palm against bare ass this time.

I wonder what she’d do if my fingers left the safety of her ass cheek and moved to that sensitive place between her legs. Let’s find out.

It’s been a long time for Wren. I don’t want to rush this so I move slowly, gliding my hand up to her waist before moving it lower. She jolts when I touch her groin. “Sorry. I’m terribly ticklish there.” Duly noted. I’ll use that to my advantage later.

I move my hand away from the bend of her leg closer to her center. “What about that? Better?”

“Yes.” The single word comes out in a soft whisper. Time to take her breath away, as promised.

She pants as the tips of my fingers stroke her through the wet crotch of her panties. I’ve barely touched her and she’s drenched. Physical proof of her arousal and desire for me. Fucking beautiful.

I push her panties aside and drag my finger up her wet center. She jolts when I graze her clit. Given it’s been a long time, she’ll be more sensitive than ever. That’s going to make this even hotter.

I take my hand out of her panties and suck her slick moisture from my fingers. “Mmm… you are delicious. I can’t wait to taste you fully.”

She reaches up and rubs my bottom lip. “You have a dirty mouth.”

“I have a greedy mouth. Lucky you.”

I return my hand to its former place. There it is. The hot spot. “I want to make you come like this first. Because I want to see your face. Then we’ll move on to the other many ways.”

She slides her hand into the elastic-waisted pants and wraps her hand around my cock. Her fist moves up and down, stroking me from balls to tip. “I want the pleasure of watching your face when you come.” I see now Wren isn’t a greedy lover. She gives as good as she gets.

“I support that idea one hundred percent.”

I glide my fingers up and down her center, slow at first, but increasing as her breath becomes faster. Her moving fist mimics my rhythm exactly. Perfect synchronization. Until I change maneuvers. You’re gonna love this, baby.

I press the tips of my fingers to the top of her slit, applying pressure to her clit, and move them from side to side. She’s slick so they glide back and forth with ease. That’s it, Wren. Move your hips. Ride my hand.

Can’t say I’m not pretty much doing the same. I’m thrusting my cock pretty hard into her hand. “Damn, I’m already close.”

“Me too. Almost there.”

I move my fingers faster because I want her to catch me. And I know she has when she arches her back and stiffens. “Ohh… ohh… ohh.” I love the sound of those three words. But it’s not her screaming my name so my job isn’t done yet.

I move my hand faster. Harder. Quick jerks from side to side. I want her to know no one has ever made her come so hard.

“Ohh. Brou.” She’s using her name for me. I love that.

I don’t know what it is about hearing a woman scream your name when she comes but nothing is a bigger turn-on. Even better when it’s the special one she’s chosen for you. “Say my name again. Louder.”

She grips my bicep hard with her free hand and moves the other up and down my cock faster. “Brou.”

“Say it louder, and I’ll take you over the edge.”

“Brou!” Good girl. That’s what I’ve wanted to hear from her.

She goes stiff, except for the involuntary jerks of her body as she convulses with pleasure. Very much the same reaction I’m having as I shoot off in her hand.

The only sound in the room is panting and moaning. Proof of satisfaction. “You took my breath away.” Breathless, and I haven’t even gotten inside her yet. But you wouldn’t know that by the twinkle in her eyes and smile on her face. It’s fucking hot to know I did that to her with my fingers. I can’t wait to see what happens when I get my dick inside her.

“As promised.” I can’t remember a time I’ve been so vested in making sure a woman comes as hard as me. No… harder.

Wren in her sliced and diced Lovibond shirt yesterday was beautiful. Wren in her skimpy cami and shorts last night was sexy. But Wren post orgasm, wearing a smile so tender and sated, is stunning. Magnificent. She makes me breathless. And… hard again already.

I take my hand out of her panties and frame her head with my arms as I support my weight on my forearms against the couch. Loose strands of hair have escaped her braid so I work to smooth them back in place. “I’m afraid your hair is going to need a little work.”

She pulls the band from the end and lifts her hair, shaking it until if flows freely. “Better?”

“Gorgeous.”

We aren’t done yet. Not even close. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” I want Wren naked and in bed beneath me. These clothes—especially the wet pants—and couch aren’t working for me. I need to be unrestrained for everything I want to do to her. “Are you okay with that?”

She nods. “Very okay.”

I get up from the couch and take her hands, helping her to her feet. We’re eye to eye. So close I can’t stop myself from cradling her face and planting a slow, deep kiss against her mouth. I don’t know what this is I’m doing with Wren. She’s Stout’s sister. Forbidden fruit. He told me so. I said I wouldn’t touch her but I did anyway. My promise became a lie—another fucking lie. Deceit has never been in my nature but I couldn’t help myself. And now I don’t want to stop.

Wren jolts, and I do too, when we hear sounds at the front door. “Someone’s here.”

Well, fuck.

We break apart like guilty teenagers caught doing dirty things. At least five feet of distance separates us. Maybe six. Too much.

It’s probably Porter coming by to issue a cockblock. He was pretty pissed off about the time I spent with Wren yesterday. I wouldn’t put it past him. Bastard.

I only have a few seconds to mentally prepare for whatever he is going to say. Porter, she’s going home. I told you I was picking her up and taking her to her car this morning. Remember?

My mental preparation is all in vain when I see who opens the door. What the hell is he doing here?

“Ollie,” Wren yells as she runs to him and throws herself into his arms, “I’m so happy you’re back.”

He looks at me with wide eyes over Wren’s shoulder and mouths, “What?”

I’ve had no communication with Stout in a week. He had no idea his sister was here. He’s completely in the dark concerning what I’ve told her about his alibi. This could mean trouble for him. And me. I don’t think Wren is the kind of woman who tolerates lies.

“Look at you. Back from Memphis so soon?”

He looks like a deer in headlights. “Yes, but only briefly.”

“I guess your friend must be doing better? No longer threatening to do anything stupid after the divorce?”

Stout clears his voice. “He’s stable, but I’m going back. I just drove down so I could be at the festival for a little while today.” Shit. I guess he took a cab from the rehab. I hope she doesn’t decide to ask questions or snoop in regards to the company car, which doesn't exist.

“We’re glad to see you. Especially Lawrence. She was pretty disappointed when she showed up Friday to surprise you but found out you’d left town to see Raleigh.” I think I’ve given him a basic rundown of what Wren believes is happening.

She hugs Stout one-armed, holding the one she used to jerk me off behind her back. “You are such a good friend to give up being at the festival for your friend’s welfare.”

Fuck. The scent of her juices is on my hand. Maybe even my mouth since I licked my fingers after touching her. It’s all I can smell. Or does the room smell like sex? I can’t tell.

“Are those my pants?” Fuck.

Wren spins around. “Lucas spilled tea on his so I gave him those to wear while his jeans are in your dryer. I hope that’s okay.”

“I guess.”

Wren cues me with her hands to cover my crotch. Shit. I register the enormous wet spot beneath my hands when I touch it. Fuck, hope Stout didn’t notice. He’s not stupid.

Whether he knows it or not, he doesn’t want these pants back.

Stout has two duffle bags on his shoulder. “You have dirty clothes in those?” Wren asks.

“Yeah. A lot.”

“Why so much?”

He looks at me and then back to Lawrence. Sorry. Can’t help you with that one, dude. “I just threw a bunch of shit in there. Some clean, some dirty. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be gone.”

“Ugh, Ollie. You’re such a guy. The dirty is going to make the clean stink. All of it will need washing now.” She holds out her hands. “Here. Pass those to me and I’ll get a load started for you.”

Stout kisses the side of Wren’s face. Right where I just kissed her but in a much different manner. “Thanks, sis.”

I sit on the couch and try to remember all the things I need to tell him. Already covered his alibi. Now I need to cover mine. And check the couch for wet spots.

Fuck. Is it just me or does it smell like sex even more over here? Stout is going to rip me a new one if he figures out what I’ve done.

He stands over me, hands on hips. “What the hell has gone on here while I’ve been away?”

I lower my voice. “She showed up at the festival yesterday. Said she was here to surprise you. I came up with a bullshit story about a suicidal friend in Memphis.” Not my best work.

“That’s dumb as hell.”

“Forgive the fuck out of me. I had maybe three seconds, at best, to come up with something to cover your ass.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful. I’m just sort of freaking out. I wasn’t expecting this.” Just like I wasn’t expecting him to walk in at the exact moment I’m on the way to his guest room to fuck his sister.

“It’s okay.”

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment with her?” I bet his mind is spinning like a damn hamster in a wheel right now.

“She was planning to go back to Savannah this morning. That’s why I’m here. To take her to her car.” Half-truth. I came to drive her but not before I fucked her.

“Where’s her car?”

“Still parked at the festival. Had the service drive her home as she’d had several beers.” We don’t need two DUIs in the Thorn family.

“Lawrence never has more than a few beers.”

“She did last night.” I might as well tell him now. “She helped me judge the home brew comp. She got a little tipsy but don’t worry. I took care of her.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “In what way?”

“I saw her home safely.” Stout’s eyes grow large and his mouth forms a tight line. I know what he’s thinking. “I did not fuck your sister. I swear.” But I was damn sure about to when you came home just now.

“Give me my phone.” He’s going to see last night’s texts. That means I’m going to have some explaining to do.

“What is this shit about her wanting you to kiss her?”

“I guess she likes me.” And I know I like her. But I can’t let him know that. Fuck do I need to get out of these wet pants… and away from the scent of sex.

“Yeah. She likes you all right. She says so right here in this message.”

I didn’t take advantage of my position. I ignored that devil sitting on my shoulder whispering in my ear. “You can see how I responded. I told her I wasn’t for her because she didn’t know how I was. And not knowing me would be no great loss. I figured that’s what you’d say since you don’t think I’m good enough for your sister.”

“It’s not about being good enough, Tap. You’ve screwed over a lot of women. I don’t want my sister to become the latest addition to that very long list.”

Stout has a severe case of the pot calling the kettle black. “You act like I’m such a dickhead, and you never fuck around with women.”

“This has nothing to do with me. We’re talking about my sister and what you’re not going to do with her.”

“I would never mistreat Lawrence.” I wouldn’t. I mean that.

“Maybe you wouldn’t as long as she met your needs. But what about when you no longer want her for a piece of ass?”

“That’s not true. But even if it were, she lives four hundred miles away. This whole argument is bullshit.”

I’m tired of defending myself to Stout. “Why are you here? I thought you had two more weeks to go.”

“I do. Got a day pass because I’ve been doing so well with my recovery. Which isn’t hard given I’m not an alcoholic. It’s a great program for people with addictions, but it’s not really set up for someone like me. Anyway, I have to return by five, which really sucks. Wish I had longer since Lawry is here. I haven’t seen her in six months.” No way she’s leaving this morning now. And I’m not sad about that.

“I’m gonna take off so you can have some brother-sister time.”

“Sorry I was such a hard ass about Lawrence.”

“I know you love her and only want the best for her.” I gesture toward the laundry room. “I’m just gonna grab my jeans out of the dryer before I go.”

Wren is shoving clothes into the washer when I sneak up behind her. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the side of her neck. “Hey. I’m gonna go so you can spend time with Stout before he leaves again.”

She turns in my arms and kisses my chest. “Will I see you later?”

“I certainly hope so.” I gesture to the jeans folded on top of the dryer. “Mine?”

“Yeah.”

I push the waistband of the linen pants down and step out of them. “Can these go in with that load?”

She bites her bottom lip to unsuccessfully suppress her mischievous grin. “Throw ’em in.”

I pull on my boxer briefs and then my jeans, Wren’s eyes watching my every move. She is checking out my junk with no shame. “Text me if we don’t catch up at the festival by the time Stout gets ready to leave.” I’d love to make plans to meet up after he’s left.

“I will.”

I hold her face and kiss her breathless. Again. I stop when I hear Stout rambling in the kitchen on the other side of the wall. Can’t risk being caught. “See you later, Wren.”