To Have and To Claim: A Dirty DILFs Bundle

by Taryn Quinn

  “At first?” She inched up on her tiptoes and got right in my face. “Lawrence, you’re holding out on me.”

  I sniffled. Stupid allergies. “After I bailed on him after we did it, when he found me here at the diner the next day, he apologized for coming up with such a crazy plan. And he suggested we do it together instead. I don’t know, it could’ve just been his new way of getting me to say yes.”

  “Have it together. Raise it together.”

  “Yeah.”

  Sage let out a laugh. “Girl, I might be the virgin, but you’re the dummy. He so wants to put you on lockdown. Forget put a ring on it. He wants to put a baby in it.”

  “You’re being silly. He just wants to have a kid for Laurie, so she has a sibling like he did before they’re too far apart in age.”

  “You just said he could have any woman. Does that or does that not include their wombs as well?” She propped a hand under her chin. “I wonder what the average woman would say if a man like Seth Hamilton asked them to have his baby. He’s a wonderful, devoted father already, and he’s rich, smart, suave, kind-hearted, and judging from today’s office performance, a near stallion in the bedroom Olympics. Sure, he has his jackass tendencies as well, but I’m sure he’d get few takers.”

  “He didn’t ask them, did he? He asked me.” Hearing myself, I shut my eyes. “He offered me money, Sage. As if I was a common—”

  “As if he wanted to make things easier for you and knew you’d never accept the help any other way.” Sage’s voice turned soft. “Honey, you don’t always make it easy for people to love you. Me, I make it so easy people aren’t interested.” She laughed weakly and my eyes popped open. “There’s a fine line between playing hard to get and being impossible to get. You’re practically a fortress, and Seth’s the only man brave enough to try to find a way in.”

  “He was always in, and he never even knew it.” And now my shitty drugstore mascara was running from the heat in that stuffy room. Never buying that brand again. Nope.

  “Al, after he put your legs up,” she paused to fan herself again, “what happened next?”

  “We talked for a minute or two then he went to speak to his secretary about lunch.” I gripped my stomach. The hole inside it was growing vaster by the second. “Wonder if I can grab a hamburger before my shift. I’m starving.”

  “His secretary was right there the whole time while…” Sage blinked and swallowed. “Stallion,” she said reverently, and I had to laugh or flush forty shades of red.

  I probably did both, but I was laughing too much to care.

  “What happened after that? You’re talking hamburgers, so what, you didn’t like lunch?”

  “I didn’t stay.” My laughter fell off quickly. “I left.”

  “With his knowledge? Or did you run away again like last time while the poor guy wasn’t even aware.” When I glared at her, she lifted her hands, palms out. “Just calling ‘em like I see ‘em. You ditched the dude at a sensitive moment. Question is, was it once…or twice?”

  “It wasn’t like that.” I paced away from her and pushed a hand through my hair. And inhaled such a strong whiff of Seth’s cologne that he might as well have been standing in the room with us.

  Because he was all over you. Up against you. Inside you.

  Christ.

  “If you say so.”

  “It was awkward with Shelly right outside. She probably heard, and this is all new to me, and God, it’s still so strange to face him after having him—” I exhaled. “It’s so intimate. I don’t know how to do intimate. My leaving is actually doing him a favor, saving him from all the awkward.”

  “I’m sure he appreciates it.”

  “Jerk.” I turned to smack her, but she darted away and reached for the doorknob.

  “I gotta get back. But it’s your day off. You should probably take it. Run home, take a bubble bath.”

  “Oh, God.” Her mention of bathing reminded me that yeah, I could use some serious bathroom time. “Yes, let me go take a quick shower. I’ll be back in half an hour. Can I borrow your key? I forgot my purse.”

  She rolled her eyes and pulled the lanyard with her keys over her head. “So that means he’ll have to chase after you. Unless that was exactly what you hoped.” She handed me the lanyard. “If it was, I have to say good move. I never think that clearly in the heat of the moment.”

  “One second you think I’m a skank for ditching him.” I shook my head, running my thumb over the battered edge of the key to our loft. “Then I’m the chick with all the moves, and let’s face it, I so am not.”

  “You’re the one who has hottie Seth all tied up in a knot. I’d say you have a lot more going for you than you know.” She winked and ducked out the door, closing it behind her.

  A second later, the door opened again and she stuck her head inside. “Oh, and start thinking about that shower. I’ll come up with a theme, but a gender would really help my design.”

  “Get out of here.”

  “Gone. And I’ll make sure that hamburger is waiting for you at your preferred table in back once you’ve showered.” She winked. “A mother-to-be needs her calories.”

  She shot back out the door before I could screech.

  In spite of everything, I grinned. And glanced down at my mostly flat belly, hating that she was making me wonder. It was too soon. It couldn’t be a thing already. I’d know, wouldn’t I? Maybe even the instant it happened. How could you not? Something that incredible, that special, taking place inside you…

  Dear Lord, I was sounding as woo-woo as Sage.

  I shook my head and aimed for the door. I needed to run down the street to our loft and get cleaned up. Then I’d come back and eat my hamburger—oh God, so hungry—and read a book on my day off, instead of panic-working. I could totally handle all of this.

  Maybe I’d take that meal to go and eat on a bench near the lake. A picnic for one. Yay.

  Not.

  Half an hour later, I was freshly showered and changed into a pair of capri jeans and a tank top. I felt like me again. Dresses were fun, but I’d always be a jeans and T-shirt sort of woman. Reason twelve-hundred-fifty I’d assumed Seth could never see me as more than a friend. He preferred the uber feminine type. Or at least he had.

  I wasn’t sure what he preferred anymore.

  The bell dinged as I stepped into the diner, and this time, I didn’t hunch my shoulders. I wasn’t running away from anyone or anything. I was…taking a pause. There. That sounded better. Mature.

  Of course, that maturity fell away the instant I glimpsed dark hair shot through with silver and a twin version of the man I’d just had sex with seated at the booth beside the one I always selected. Awesome.

  I plastered on a smile and went right up to their table. This was Seth’s family, after all. I’d just say hello and escape to my booth while clinging to my gratitude that they hopefully hadn’t overheard Sexathon 2017.

  “Alison,” Mr. Hamilton said before I could speak. “You’re not working today?” he asked, taking in my attire.

  I was probably imagining the faint sneer in his voice. Had to be. He’d never been warm to me, but he usually wasn’t rude either. Militantly civil was a more accurate description.

  “Nope, day off,” I said as cheerfully as I could manage. “Nice to see you’re back in town. Successful trip?”

  “Of course.” He went back to his menu, signaling our brief exchange was over.

  Okay then.

  I shifted to glance at Seth’s twin. As always, their similarities nearly knocked me off my feet, especially when I could still smell Seth’s scent on my skin no matter how much soap I’d used. “Hi, Oliver.”

  “Al,” he said, smiling thinly. “Haven’t seen much of you lately.”

  “Oh, I’ve been around.” I gripped Sage’s lanyard hanging out of my jeans pocket. “Well, I won’t disrupt your lunch—”

  “Did you and Seth have a falling out?”

  I frowned, unsure if I’d he
ard Oliver correctly. “What?”

  “Are you and Seth beefing?” His lips twitched and for a second, I almost smiled too. Seth was the lighthearted twin, but occasionally, the normally uptight Oliver let loose with a sarcastic remark or a joke.

  “No.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and hoped my embarrassment didn’t show on my face. The inferno inflaming my cheeks didn’t give me much hope. “I’m fine. We’re fine. Why would you ask?”

  “Just haven’t seen you two together lately.” Oliver smoothed a manicured hand over the laminated menu he had to have memorized by now. The diner wasn’t his typical hangout as it was Seth’s—and it definitely wasn’t Mr. Hamilton’s—but it was almost impossible to live in Crescent Cove without patronizing it now and then. “You’re usually glued at the hip. The only other time you weren’t was when he was married, and even that was a brief interruption. Marjorie couldn’t compete with you.” The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Not sure any woman can.”

  The hum of conversation around us had nothing on the buzz in my brain. “What are you talking about?”

  He adjusted his tie, stroking it as if he was already bored with the conversation. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “Why, Alison, you didn’t know Oliver introduced Marjorie to Seth? He thought she was just the sort of woman his brother was—” Mr. Hamilton fell silent, and when the heavy beat of approaching footsteps cut through the chaos in my head, I understood why.

  “Oliver was as dense then as he is now. Hey, Dad. Good trip?” Before his father could answer, Seth rested his hand on my lower back. The weight of his stare seared the side of my neck. “Hey, you.”

  “And the natural world order is restored,” Oliver said, glancing pointedly between me and Seth before flashing me an I-told-you-so smile. “I was afraid you must’ve been dead in a gutter somewhere if Al was left alone for more than a moment or two. Oh, and love your new accessory. It’s so you.”

  I glanced down and bit my lip at the sight of my bright red patent leather dressy purse in Seth’s big hand. He didn’t relinquish it, and I didn’t ask.

  “Such a comedian.” With his free hand, Seth brushed my hair away from my cheek and I bristled. We were affectionate in public, but not to this level. “Did you eat?” he asked in a way that didn’t befit a guy who a, had just been ditched post-sex for the second time or b, was my purely platonic friend.

  Rather than reply, I jerked my chin at the burger at the next table. My stomach promptly grumbled, making Seth laugh and steer me in that direction. “Lunchtime. See you later.”

  “You don’t want to eat with your family?” I asked out of the side of my mouth.

  “I work with them every day. I don’t have to eat every lunch with them too.” So much for being polite.

  “Nice to see you, Mr. Hamilton.” No matter what Seth did, I never forgot my manners.

  “What, not nice to see me?” Oliver smirked and wiggled his fingers.

  “No,” Seth responded before I could, guiding me to one side of the booth.

  I pried out the well-worn paperback I’d shoved in the back pocket of my capris before sitting down. Seth dropped on the bench on the other side. I frowned at him, well aware we couldn’t have anything resembling a semblance of a normal conversation. He simply slid my purse across the table and lifted a brow at the book I still clutched.

  “The Sun Also Rises?”

  “So? I enjoy the classics.” I picked up my burger and bit in, letting out a moan. Sage had made the burger just the way I loved them—medium rare, extra mushrooms and pickles, light on the ketchup and mayo, heavy on the cheese. I was so into it that I didn’t glance at Seth again until I’d taken another bite, chewed, and swallowed.

  He seemed to be short on air. He was breathing too fast, and he’d grabbed a napkin to lay across his lap.

  Not because he was afraid of a flying pickle either, I was willing to bet.

  I giggled. Honest to God giggled like a high school girl. And risked his family overhearing me as I leaned forward and whispered, “You can’t be.”

  He nodded frantically and I laughed harder.

  “You think it’s funny.”

  “What was your first clue?” I bit in again and deliberately did a Meg Ryan style eyes-rolling-back expression just to make him lose his mind.

  “Payback is a bitch.” His low, intimidating tone had me wiping my mouth with my napkin and reaching for my nonexistent glass of water. Guess Sage hadn’t thought of everything.

  “Hey Jean,” he said to my passing coworker before I could find my voice. “Mind getting the lady a glass of water? She seems parched.”

  “Seth. Didn’t see you sneak in here.” Jean smiled so widely that I was amazed Seth didn’t get sunstroke. She was sixty if she was a day, but he had that effect on women. All women.

  Even me.

  Especially me.

  “Jean, it’s okay. I can go get it myself.” I started to rise from the booth, but Seth held out a hand, stopping me.

  “Day off. Sit.”

  I was too surprised by his authoritative tone to argue. More dominance from him, this time outside the bedroom. Just like that night he’d ordered for both of us at the Sherman Inn. It wasn’t as if I didn’t want my voice to be heard, but something about him occasionally taking charge worked for me.

  Lord, I was fucked.

  “It’s no trouble. Be right back.” Jean bustled toward the kitchen.

  A moment later, Sage returned with my water, not Jean. She made a big production of setting it on the table and smiling at both of us, making enough small talk to set my teeth on edge.

  “And look at that, didn’t realize y’all had come in too,” she said to Oliver and Mr. Hamilton at the next table. “Is Jean taking good care of you?”

  “Not as good of care as you would, I’m sure.” I wasn’t positive, but I got the feeling Oliver winked at her, because she blushed twenty shades of red.

  “Hamilton men are charmers. Why, they’d charm the panties off a woman before she knew otherwise.”

  “You don’t wear panties. C’mon now.”

  Mr. Hamilton cleared his throat and lifted his menu like a shield as he leaned forward to talk to Oliver. His son’s smile dimmed, but only slightly.

  Sage was still beet-red. “I do so wear panties. Not thongs either. Thongs ride up your crack. Ask Ally.”

  Mid-picking off a slice of pickle to eat, I paused. I did not look at Seth. “Sage.”

  “Just saying. Anyway, I gotta get back. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Not fucking likely,” I said under my breath.

  The moment she was gone, Seth leaned forward and mouthed, “You wear thongs?” Then he cocked his head, as if he was imagining what I had on under my denim capris.

  I ignored him and popped my pickle into my mouth.

  “Laurie’s birthday is next Saturday,” he said after a few moments of charged silence had passed between us. Oliver and their father were laughing quietly in the next booth, and Seth was eye-fucking me with enough force to have my clit pounding. It was kind of impressive, if I didn’t want him to stop.

  Right now. This instant.

  Okay, maybe tomorrow.

  “She’s going to be four,” he added, as if I didn’t have the date circled and red-starred in my planner. “I want to have a big party. Will you help?”

  “You want to have a big party in a little over a week. Have you planned any of it yet? Figured out a guest list, sent invitations?”

  He bit the tip of his thumb and shook his head. “No, not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I haven’t planned it at all yet.”

  I sighed, the joy from my orgasmic burger already fading. “People need more notice than a week. It’s almost summer. Little kids have activities and family stuff going on.”

  “I know, and I should have done it forever ago, but I got busy at work. Laurie’s counting on it.” His dark eyes silently pleaded with me.


  I pointed. “That look is getting you nowhere.”

  His lips curved and he mouthed, “Already did.”

  I pried off the last pickle round on my plate just for the pleasure of tossing it at his smug, laughing face. “I don’t have my planner with me here, but we need to figure some stuff out.”

  “So I’ll come over tonight.” The way he tucked his tongue in the corner of his mouth didn’t make me think he had party planning in mind.

  More like he was envisioning how many spots in my loft he could desecrate.

  “Your child,” I reminded him.

  “So you can come over,” he said.

  “I have work early.”

  “So come over tomorrow.” He leaned forward and skimmed his fingers over the back of my hand. “Come every day.”

  “Incorrigible, and no. We can do this via Skype.”

  He did that tongue in the corner of his mouth thing again. “I can work with Skype.”

  I reached for my purse and pulled out the pen and small notepad tucked in my wallet. He had to spring this on me the one day I didn’t bring my planner.

  Before I could begin my list of what we needed to accomplish, he grabbed the pad and my stubby pen. He scribbled something and turned the pad my way.

  Why do you have a condom in your purse?

  I glared at him and wrote a quick reply.

  You went through my purse, you bastard?

  He took back the pad.

  You ditched me again, your fault I had to look for clues.

  I snatched the notepad.

  I just needed time to myself. To process.

  He eyed me suspiciously and grasped the pad.

  Girl thing?

  I nodded. It was a little insulting, but hell, lesser of two evils. Then I returned to an earlier point of contention.

  You were looking for clues that include condoms?

  He snatched it back.

  Condoms? Is there more than one?

  In spite of myself, I laughed. He was so ridiculous sometimes. I took the notepad and wrote what I felt was a reasonable reply.

  No. Just the one.

  Which I’d gotten free at a bar some time ago, but whatever.