He's Mine Not Hers

by Gianni Holmes

  I opened the door with a frown and gasped. My excitement flowed from nonexistent to hitting my highest scale.

  “Well, goddamn, kid, you look like you had a rough night.”

  Usually I would gut anyone who commented on my appearance in a negative light with my razor-sharp tongue. I wasn’t the freaking Mona Lisa hanging in one place. Of course I was going to get messed up.

  I didn’t give him the length of my tongue though. Not Lucas. Never Lucas. He could tell me I looked like a crackhead who’d been passed around one time too many, and I’d still react the same way as I did to him.

  I squealed.

  Damn right I did.

  I hadn’t seen him in eighteen months, and this was the man whose babies I would have carried if I had ovaries. But I didn’t, so alas, I was just waiting for him to satisfy the both of us and make an honest guy out of me. Hell, it didn’t even have to be honest. I’d take him any damn way I got him, and it didn’t bother me one bit how desperate that made me sound.

  “Daddy Luke!”

  “Jason, don’t—”

  Too late.

  I already jumped him, arms wrapping around his neck, legs fastening around his waist. I got so excited seeing him again I completely disregarded the paper bag he had in his hands. He had a split second to decide, but there was never a doubt in my mind.

  He dropped the bag and grabbed on to me to keep me from falling. I wasn’t even concerned at my weight. I weighed a hundred and fifty pounds wet. With clothes on.

  “Jesus!” he cried, stumbling backward in an exaggerated fashion. “How much weight did you gain in London?”

  “Stop being a monster! I didn’t gain a single thing all the while I was there.”

  I squeezed his broad shoulders. The yumminess of this man had given me a sweet tooth from which I had yet to recover. Eighteen months in London should have made me get over him, but it hadn’t worked.

  Oh my God, I wasn’t certain I didn’t truly have ovaries. Something in my stomach clenched tight with giddiness at being in his arms. I could pretend for a short time that he was the Popeye to my Olive Oyl, and boy, Popeye had been munching on spinach if the muscles in his arms were anything to go by.

  He laughed. “I’m just kidding. You haven’t changed a bit, though it remains to be seen if that’s good for me or not.” He released me, but I clung to him just the same, refusing to let go. “Come on, Jason, get down. What will the neighbors think?”

  “That Daddy’s home,” I answered, grinning so hard my jaw ached. I’d missed him so much. Seeing him actually made me want to cry. What a fool I had been thinking London with all its hot gay spots would have won over my heart.

  As I felt the hot tears spring to the surface, I buried my face into his neck. Trying to swallow back the sob was futile especially when my body jerked with it anyway.

  “Shit, Jason, I was kidding about your weight. You look fine as always. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  I shook my head, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. I clung to him and sniffled. The more I tried to stop the tears, the more they rolled down my face. This was exactly what I didn’t want to do when I ran into him for the first time. I’d had every intention of being all cool and suave about seeing him again. Perhaps let him be the first to admit he missed me, but here I was blubbering all over the man.

  “Please stop crying,” he said, taking the couple of steps needed for him to get into the house. He pulled the door closed and awkwardly grabbed the paper bag he had dropped on the floor. As he carried me along the hall, the bottom of the bag tore and everything scattered onto the floor, including a small container of eggs.

  “Oh no!” I cried, horrified at the egg staining the floor. “Becca is going to kiiiiiiiiiill you.”

  “Kill me? It’s all your fault.” He loosened the hold he had around my waist. “Get down, Jason. You’re a big boy. Let me see just how mad your mom will be at me.”

  Reluctantly, I allowed my legs to drop from his waist and slid down his body. Our bodies touching made me more light-headed than half a dozen trips back-to-back on the Seattle Great Wheel. When my legs were still dangling to the ground, I felt an uncomfortable tug.

  “Ouch.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Don’t move. My ring’s caught in your belt.”

  “Your what?”

  “My belly button piercing,” I answered.

  “You got your belly button pierced?”

  I nodded. “Yes. It looks cute too. If your belt doesn’t ruin it.”

  “Come here.” He swore under his breath as he shuffled to the kitchen with me still clinging to him. My legs were wrapped around his, making it impossible for him to walk properly, but at the same time I was afraid to rip my ring out if I tried to place my feet on the floor. On a scale of one to ten, I was a perfect twenty when it came to tolerating pain.

  Once inside the kitchen, he set me on one of the chairs around the island.

  “Stay still and let me try to work it out.”

  We both glanced down at the same time and bashed heads. It was like a cannon ramming into my skull. “Ugh!” I cried, rubbing at my forehead. “Between Becca’s attempt to drown me and your attempt to knock me unconscious, I’m beginning to question whether you both even wanted me to come back.”

  “Becca almost drowned you?” he asked, his big, beautifully scarred chef hands assessing the damage done that had us hooked together.

  “Yeah, in potpourri.”

  He groaned. “I don’t even want to know.”

  “It was quite funny,” I answered on a giggle as he tried to figure out how to unhook us. “Not then because I really did think I was drowning, but I can laugh at it now.”

  “Hmm, she didn’t mention any of that when I saw her earlier.”

  “You saw her?” I felt a bit disappointed that he had visited her before coming to see me, but I shouldn’t be. They were friends, having met when they were working at the same restaurant. Lucas had been a chef there, and Becca had been a waitress.

  Sometimes he would babysit for Becca when he was off. I had only learned later that he had quit the restaurant because their boss had fired Becca after she had brought me to work with her one day because she couldn’t find anyone to look after me. Since then he and Becca had become close friends. At one time I even thought they were dating, but when he hung around through her shitty boyfriends and the expensive ones too, I figured they really were just platonic friends.

  “Ah, there you go,” he cried in triumph, stepping back. I immediately missed the warmth of his presence. “It doesn’t hurt or anything, does it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Hold still and let me check.”

  I could have assured him no harm was done, but when the man I wanted had a hankering to check out a naked part of my anatomy, who was I to stop him? He dipped me over one arm for me to recline while he poked at my navel. I squirmed and let out a giggle. His touch was ticklish.

  He glanced up and peered at me. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  I nodded at him with a smile. “I missed you.”

  Chapter Four

  Lucas

  “I missed you.”

  The words echoed in my head, and I stared at Jason, unable to release him, this young man who was too young for me and way out of my league. He had his whole future ahead of him. Talented, sexy, and fun, he would find himself the right husband in time.

  For the time being though, I couldn’t stop staring at his face, relearning him. His face was bare, completely without makeup, and this was the absolute best of him. Sure, he looked awesome when he got all dolled up, but this was the side of him only a few people ever got to see. Not many knew there were three little dots of freckles on his nose, and because I knew that didn’t mean I was stalkerish either. I just always paid attention when it came to him.

  His eyebrows were far from the neat arches they formed before he left the house every day. His cheek
s were red from embarrassment under my gaze instead of the pinkness of blush, and his lips natural colors were a soft pink unlike the dramatic glittery lip balm and lipsticks that he favored. Short brown hair framed his face and his delicate features that had filled out into quite an attractive man in the last couple of years.

  That was when I’d started noticing him. He was no longer the little boy who I took to the movies when Becca was working. Jason was a grown man. Too bad no amount of growing would make him suitable for me. A guy like Jason needed commitment, and the only commitment I had was to my job.

  It sure didn’t stop my cock from twitching at having him bent over my arm. His lips were so close.

  “Lucas.”

  The soft way he purred my name made me react. I jerked him upright and removed my arm from his back.

  “I’ll go check on the floor that’s now wearing my groceries,” I told him. “Go on up and take a shower. Change, then we’ll have you eat something to get you right back on your feet.”

  “But Luke—”

  “Jason, now.”

  I hated using that tone of voice with him because even though he obeyed, he always had that longing in his eyes. He liked it when I told him what to do. It was a wonder Becca hadn’t ended our friendship as yet, but when I had broached the subject of Jason’s reaction to me, she had shrugged and said it was nothing but infatuation and that it would wear off.

  Right now, I couldn’t tell if he was just being Jason or if him clinging to me like a vine wrapped around a stone hedge was because he still had a thing for me.

  “Okay,” he said and slid off the stool, the friction causing the silk material to ride up his thighs. His thighs were lightly dotted with more freckles, and I wanted to trace every one with my tongue to find out what secret message they held for me. “You won’t leave before I get through with my shower?”

  I should. It was the safest thing to do, but I shook my head. “I’ll be here because you need to eat. Now quit stalling and go take a shower. Sweat and alcohol combined isn’t your best scent. Personally, I prefer the lavender you always wear.”

  He made a face. “Eew. I don’t smell that horrible.” But he headed out the kitchen, and I could hear his bare feet smacking into the floor as he ran as though he thought if he didn’t hurry, I would go against my word and disappear. As much as I wished I would, I couldn’t lie like that to him.

  Then his big brown eyes would get all sad and make me feel guilty.

  I salvaged what I could of the groceries on the floor in the hall. Earlier when I had dropped by The Bridal Experience where Becca worked, we had a quick lunch and she had made mention of Jason recovering from a night of partying. The boy did love his parties. I hadn’t been able to resist creating an Instagram and Snapchat account just so I could follow him and all his exploration in London.

  Everywhere he went, he snapped a picture which ended up online. It was the reason I didn’t think he was still infatuated with me. He’d been with quite a few males in some of the pictures.

  Luckily, the floor wasn’t as messy as I had thought. It did take some time to clean up the egg from the floor though and to get rid of the smell. When I finished, I returned to the kitchen to salvage breakfast with the rest of the items.

  Half an hour later when Jason entered the kitchen, I was just about done.

  “Take a seat,” I told him, humming with my back turned to him as I took out the last johnnycake from the skillet. “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t make you any coffee. You’ll have some lemongrass tea instead.”

  “Is that from another of your stepmom’s recipes?”

  At his hesitant tone, I turned to regard him and forgot what I was about to say. He was not only showered, but he had taken the time to do his makeup. Though subtle, the change was obvious. He was an expert with the stroke of a brush, accentuating his features in a flattering manner. His brown eyes seemed even bigger, his nose straighter and his lips plumper. And coated in shiny purple lipstick.

  “So, is it?” Jason asked, grinning at me as if pleased at the way he had left me speechless.

  “Yes, it is,” I answered, frowning at him. “You wear lipstick to eat breakfast? You’re going to get it all over your mother’s teacup.”

  “Oh, it’s worth it.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him why it was worth it, but that would have been playing right into his hands. I returned to the counter and poured him a cup of the tea I had mentioned. When it was sweetened with honey to my satisfaction, I placed the steaming cup before him.

  “Drink. It will make you feel better.”

  He wrinkled his perfect aquiline nose. He had to have done something to it with the makeup, because it looked straighter. “It smells funny.”

  “But it tastes good. Give it a try.”

  I pretended I wasn’t watching him as he eyed the cup of tea like an angry bull would rear its head out of the liquid and gore him. He went all in at once, and I rushed to advise him.

  “Be careful, it’s—”

  “Ahhh, I burned my tongue.”

  “—hot,” I ended on a sigh. “Jesus, Jason, trust you to make drinking tea seem like a light-year of a difference from drinking coffee.”

  “You didn’t say it was that hot,” he argued.

  Retrieving a spoon from the drawer, I approached him and placed it in the teacup. “Maybe this will help.”

  “Thank you,” he answered, taking his time in scooping up the hot liquid with the spoon and aiming for his mouth. “Now you see why I need a Daddy?”

  Having piled food on his plate, I placed it before him next to his teacup. “You’re twenty-one years old, Jason. You got by so far without a father. What do you need a dad for now?”

  “You know that’s not the type of daddy I mean,” he answered with a scowl, and I grinned at him.

  “It’s the only kind I know.”

  “I’ll teach you.”

  That had me cracking up. “You’re going to teach me what exactly?”

  He took up the fork and poked through the breakfast. “How to be a good daddy. I can make you notes if you want.”

  “Hmm, out of curiosity, what would be in these notes?”

  His eyes sparkled. I shouldn’t have entertained this idea at all. By the look on his face, his mind was running all sorts of impossible possibilities.

  “Weeeeell, I need Daddy to keep me on track,” he answered. “I can get easily distracted. Like when I see makeup I really want or shoes. It’s really hard to say no to them, but I should. We’re not exactly rich, and I need to find a job. Maybe you can help me with that too.”

  “I can help you with all that without being your daddy,” I answered, the word sounding too right on my tongue. Daddy Luke has a nice ring to it. How would he sound calling out my name as I made him come?

  He shrugged and beamed a smile at me. “I already think of you as Daddy, so.”

  “You really shouldn’t. I’m just a simple man, Jason. I don’t know anything about being a daddy.”

  He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Weren’t you listening? I said I could teach you how to be a good daddy.”

  I frowned at him. “And how would you know? Have you ever had a daddy, Jason?”

  I could see his blush through his makeup. “That’s beside the point.”

  I grinned at him. “It is exactly the point. Now eat your breakfast and stop this nonsense.”

  He forked some of the greens into his mouth before pointing the fork at me and talking. “Just for the record, I’m not giving up.”

  “Just for the record, I’d probably spank you for talking with your mouth full.”

  Silence reigned in the kitchen when we both realized at the same time what I had just said. What in the world had possessed me? Impact play wasn’t necessarily my thing. Definitely not outside of sex. I couldn’t move, couldn’t react until he did.

  “Please,” he begged, eyes wide with the raw honesty of his need.

  It scared me sill
y the way he was looking at me expectantly.

  “Geez,” he muttered, taking a bite out of the fried dumpling. “Don’t just stand there getting a stroke on my behalf.” He grunted and nodded enthusiastically. “I should feel like crap eating after waking up with a hangover, but I don’t. What am I eating with these biscuits anyway? Looks gross, but it tastes wonderful.”

  “That’s not biscuits,” I replied. “It’s johnnycake and callaloo with strips of cod. It’s almost like spinach.”

  He giggled and I frowned at him. “I guess you eat a lot of this spinach, huh?”

  “It is good for you,” I answered, wondering why he was snickering so much. “My stepmother said this was pretty standard breakfast where she lives.”

  “Oh, she’s from the Caribbean, right?”

  “Yeah. Jamaica. My father met her on a cruise. She was a backup singer for a reggae band.”

  “That sounds so cool.”

  It was. I had learned a lot especially where food was concerned from my stepmother, Nadine. That had defined the career path I wanted to take even when my dad disagreed.

  “I should get going,” I told him. “I just stopped by to ensure you ate properly. Your mom asked me to peek in on you.”

  He put down his fork and gave me a forlorn expression. “So, you only came because Becca made you?”

  Say yes. Say yes. But the vulnerable way he was looking up at me as if I’d break his heart if I said yes made it impossible for me to tell the little white lie that would probably get him off my back.

  “No, that’s not the only reason I came,” I answered but refused to expound.

  His eyes lit up, his smile full, and was it so bad that I wanted to see him like this all the time? That I wanted to be the one to put a smile on his face like this?

  “You like me, don’t you, Daddy Luke?”

  Well, that was an easy question. “Of course I do. Everybody likes you, Jason. I’ll see you around. I have to get to the restaurant ahead of time for a brief meeting. I think today they will announce me being head chef.”