Chapter Eleven
Opening the door, I find Chance and Adam both standing on the porch with smiles on their faces. My eyes move between the two of them, taking in the similarities again. There are many, all of which are good, but they are also different. Adam’s hair is perfect, not a strand out of place. Chance’s dark caramel colored hair is a little on the messy side, making my fingers itch to reach out and touch it. They are both wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but Chance’s fits him better. The tee hugs his muscles, causing my insides to do a little flip.
Chance’s hazel eyes are shining with humor and he asks, “Are you going to let us in the trailer, Gypsy Girl?”
Realizing I was staring at them forever, I take a step back and motion for them to come inside. “Of course, come on in.”
As they walk by me, I notice they both have their hands full. Adam is carrying a bottle of wine in each hand while Chance carries a bouquet of tulips in one hand and a six pack of longnecks in the other.
“Are you guys planning on getting me drunk?” I ask, looking at the goodies they are carrying.
“Nah,” Adam mumbles as his smile grows. “We’re just planning on getting ourselves drunk.”
“Speak for yourself, brother,” Chance says as he steps inside, leaning down to place a kiss on my cheek. “There’s no damn way I’m getting drunk. I don’t want to forget a minute of my time with Gypsy.”
As he pulls away, he hands the flowers to me. “These are for you.”
I wrap my fingers around the plastic covered stems, still feeling the touch of his lips on my skin. It’s a sweet burn that warms me all the way to my soul. For some reason, I want him to do it again. I want it so damn much that I have to force myself not to lean into him and beg for him to touch me again. Instead, I smile up at him.
“Thank you so much,” I whisper, feeling almost shy as he stares into my eyes. “They are really beautiful.”
Never before in my life has a man given me flowers. In fact, other than birthday and Christmas presents from Jarrod or Hank, I’m not sure a man has ever bought me anything. The few boys I dated as a kid surely didn’t, not even Stephan thought to bring me flowers. He bought our dinner, but nothing more, not that I expected him to. Shaking away the thoughts, I turn around and walk back to the table, laying a hand on Jarrod’s shoulder.
“This is my brother, Jarrod,” I say, looking back at Adam and Chance.
My best friend lets out a somewhat feminine gasp at my words, and I look down to him. There is wetness shining in his eyes, letting me know what those words meant to him. Giving him my sweetest smile, I look back at the brothers. They are both staring at me in shock. Even though I’ve been pretty closed lipped about my past, I have shared that I have no family to speak of. But for some reason, tonight it just seemed right to call Jarrod my brother because that is what he is to me.
“Jarrod, these are my bosses, Chance and Adam Ryan,” I say, waving my hand in their direction. “They own Bluegrass Construction.”
“Just your boss, huh?” Adam walks over to the island, sitting down the bottles of wine. “Here I’ve been thinking I was your friend.”
Chance follows behind him, setting down the beers, with his eyes locked on me. “I thought I was even more than that.”
I look between the two of them, trying to decipher their words. At first, I think they are teasing, but it’s easy to see they are not playing. My words actually bothered both of them. By the look in his eyes, I can tell that they really bothered Chance. What was meant as a simple introduction has obviously hurt both of their feelings.
Jarrod stands up, plopping his arm over my shoulder, taking the attention off of me. “For the first year we knew each other, she wouldn’t even look at me. She’s only known you two for a short time and you already get an invite to dinner, so I think you guys are ahead of the game.”
I’m saved from responding when the oven dings. Making my way across the kitchen, I grab a tall glass from the cabinet and walk to the sink. Filling it with water, I place the tulips inside of it and set them on the island. Finally, I grab a potholder and pull out the biscuits. Within seconds, the buttery scent fills the room.
“Damn, Gypsy,” Chance groans, walking to my side and looking down at the pan. “Those smell and look delicious.”
I smile at him, hoping he has forgotten my careless words from earlier. “I hope you guys are hungry. It’ll all be done in about five minutes.”
My hands move from one thing to another. Putting the biscuits in a bowl, carrying it and the mashed potatoes and gravy to the table. Then, I clean up the remnants of the cobbler Jarrod and I were just eating. Finally, I grab the fried chicken that has been resting on a platter and the green beans, setting them both on the table.
“Someone grab me some glasses, and I’ll pour us a glass of wine.” Adam pulls a corkscrew out of his pocket and starts opening a bottle.
Chance does as he asks, setting two glasses in front of him. He then snarls his nose at the wine and grabs a beer. He pops the top and takes a long drink. Jarrod walks over to the counter and grabs a bottle of beer, giving the wine the same disgusted look.
“I think I’ll stick with a nice cold beer,” he says, shooting a smile at Adam. “Never been much of a wine kind of guy.”
Adam gives him a toothy smile, tilting his head a bit to the side. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
They continue to stare at each other for a minute, obvious attraction sparking between the two of them. I watch them as I grab the butter from the fridge and carry it to the table. I swear the air is sizzling with sexual attraction, but neither man is saying a word. Finally, Jarrod breaks eye contact and looks to his feet.
“Well, it smells like it’s time for us to eat,” Adam says, picking up both glasses and starts walking my way.
A second later, he is handing me a glass of wine. I take it from him and sit down; he takes the seat to my left. Chance nearly knocks Jarrod down, rushing to the seat to my right, leaving my best friend no choice but to sit across from me and next to Adam. Once we are all seated, the boys start grabbing bowls and filling up their plates.
“Is that all you’re going to eat?” Chance asks as I grab a piece of chicken and scoop some potatoes and green beans onto my plate.
“Almost,” I reply with a nod of my head as I reach for a biscuit. “Jarrod and I kind of ate dessert first, so I’m not really hungry.”
“Our mom made her favorite blueberry cobbler, and she couldn’t wait for y’all to get here to eat it,” Jarrod pipes in with a chuckle. “One thing you need to know, our Gypsy’s got one hell of a sweet tooth.”
I start to tell him to shut up when his words finally work their way into my brain. Our mother, he called Lucy our mother. My God, she is. Lucy is my mom. She’s fed me, put a roof over my head, and most importantly, loved me with all her heart. She’s the only mom I have ever really had. Francine was nothing more than an incubator.
Tears fill my eyes, but I blink them back as I look across the table at Jarrod. “You know I love you, right?”
“Not nearly as much as I love you,” he replies, a huge smile on his face. “Now, enough of this mushy shit. Let’s eat.”
Just as I’m about to take my first bite, Chance reaches under the table and gives my knee a squeeze. I look his way, and he smiles. He leans in close and brushes another kiss over my cheek, the second one of the night. This time his lips stay connected a bit longer, causing a tingle to rush through my body.
When he finally pulls back, he whispers, “I’m thinking you’re an easy girl to love. I better watch out, or I may end up loving you, too.”
I sit here completely stunned, looking right into his beautiful hazel eyes, not knowing how to respond to his words. No one has ever said anything like that to me before, no one. I can feel heat flushing across my face as embarrassment overtakes me.
Pulling my eyes from him, I look down at my plate and pick up my fork. “We should just eat and not talk.”
Chance chuckles, digging into his food again. I try to swallow a bite, but it’s nearly impossible. How can I be expected to eat after having those words said to me by someone like him, someone I could possibly fall for? I scoop up a little bit of potatoes and gravy, forcing down a second bite and focus on my plate.
“I’ve always loved your fried chicken,” Jarrod says, breaking the silence that has filled the room. “You probably should’ve started them off with a shitty meal, so that they wouldn’t be expecting good stuff like this all the time.”
His words pull a giggle from deep in my throat at the same time I swallow my wine. The action sends me into a coughing fit as I choke on the bitter liquid. The burn in my chest and throat is so bad that tears prickle my eyes. I slap my chest in an attempt to get my coughing under control.
Chance leans closer and rubs my back. “Are you okay, Gypsy?”
“I’m okay. The wine just went down the wrong pipe,” I wheeze out as my coughing finally dies down.
Looking around the table, I see that everyone is staring at me. The attention brings another flush of embarrassment to cross my face. Wanting them to look away, I pick up my glass and take another small sip. This time, the wine goes down without an issue, and everyone finally looks away.
“Gypsy has always been a bit on the dramatic side,” Jarrod says, smiling at Adam. “She likes the attention.”
When he has both of their attention, he starts telling stories of my time in Macon. Each one more embarrassing than the last. When he finally tells them about me dumping a tray of food on the preacher’s wife after I heard her complaining about Lucy’s cooking, I send him a glare. When he moves on to the time I tripped and my skirt flew up, letting everyone in the diner see my granny panties, a gasp of outrage leaves my lips.
Knowing I have to stop this before it gets worse, I pick the biscuit up from my plate. I toss it at him, but he catches it before it hits my mark. He sticks it in his mouth and takes a huge bite. The brothers laugh as I glare at my best friend. A smile finally spreads across my face when I realize the strain from earlier has been broken. We spend the next hour eating and talking. Everything goes great, lots of laughter and no more tension.
Quickly, the meal is over and we all make our way to the living room. Chance switches from beer to sweet tea, but Adam continues drinking wine. One glass after another, he finishes off the first bottle and most of the second. Each glass makes him loosen up a bit more and become flirty with my friend. By the end of the night, Jarrod is helping a slightly tipsy Adam out to Chance’s truck. Chance stays inside, his arm draped over my shoulder.
“I think my brother has a crush,” he says, pulling me into his side.
We watch through the open door as Jarrod runs his hands up and down Adam’s back. Adam is leaning into him, loving the attention. Our eyes stayed glued on them until Jarrod lowers his head. Just before their lips touch, I tear my eyes away.
I smile up at him, hoping he is right. “I know my best friend has a crush.”
Twisting me around, Chance wraps his arms around me and lowers his head. Before I realize what he is doing, his lips are on mine. They are soft and plump, surrounded by the roughness of his whiskers, feeling amazing against mine. The kiss brings something deep inside of me to life, something I have never felt before. I’m almost certain it's lust, pure lust.
I’m so surprised by the feeling that my head starts to spin. Never before, not once in my entire life, have I ever felt anything so perfect. I was sure my past had stolen the ability to feel this way from me, but I was wrong. It’s absolutely breathtaking, wonderful, exciting, and even a little naughty.
He tilts his head to the right, and I mimic his movement, not wanting to lose the contact. Nibbling at my bottom lip, he forces my lips open and slips his tongue inside. His taste is amazing, intoxicating, truly addictive. I can still taste the beer he drank earlier and the sweet tea, but there is something else, something that is just Chance. It is truly delicious.
Just as a moan slips from my mouth, he pulls his lips from mine and lets out a groan. The kiss ends nearly as fast as it began and leaves me wanting more. I’m so disappointed, I let out a whimper and try to pull him back. I stop just before fisting my hands in his hair. Instead, I stare at him, waiting for his reaction.
He lets me go and steps back, never breaking eye contact. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever, but I have to stop or I’ll want to do more.”
I stare at him for a second, waiting for my fear to kick in. It always has before, even when a customer would innocently flirt with me. Definitely, when Stephan kissed me for the first time. It doesn’t though, not at all. Instead, what I want is more. More of his touches, more of his kisses, just more of Chance. He turns away and starts walking to the door, but I call out before he reaches it.
“When you touch me, I feel almost normal again.” The words are out before I can even think about what they say about me.
He looks over his shoulder just before stepping onto the porch. “Gypsy girl, there’s not one damn thing normal about you.”