Phoenix (The Colton Cousins Book 1)

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Phoenix (The Colton Cousins Book 1) Page 13

by Rebecca Rennick


  “Protect what?” I know it’s an ass move to ask, but again, morbid curiosity and lack of common sense filter.

  “Let’s just say some people know how to abuse the protection the Accords afford them,” Lily says cautiously.

  Rosie is still staring at Lily as she adds to her sister’s statement. There’s something more there that I don’t know, and it seems I’m not supposed to.

  “We may be awesome people, but there are some in the other families that are not. They bend the rules as much as they can without breaking them.” The tension is still thick in the room between the two, and on that serious note, we all take a hearty drink of our wine—time to change the subject.

  “Okay, so moving on to Beau’s family. I hear it’s a big one,” I say more upbeat, hoping to distract the girls from their apparent disagreement on how much to tell me.

  Rosie and Lily take the next thirty minutes to tell me about Beau and his siblings. There are six in total, including one set of twins. Magnus, the oldest, apparently made the donuts we ate. But I’m not allowed to tell anyone I know he bakes. I guess it’s a big secret from most of the family. Not sure why the donuts are amazing, and he should tell everyone because they all need to appreciate his mad baking skills.

  Next is Zander, then Sebastian or Seb. I remember them talking about him taking over daily operations at the auto body shop. Then the twins are the youngest at seventeen, Connor and Mackenzie or Mac.

  “My lord, that is a lot of siblings. I don’t even know what I would have done growing up with that many brothers and sisters. Who are their parents again?” My mind is spinning, but I’m trying to follow along as best I can.

  “Ana and Garrick. Uncle Garrick runs the auto shop, and Aunt Ana is a stay-at-home mom. With six kids, she kind of needed to be,” Lily says.

  “Jeez. I don’t know how I’m going to remember all of this.” My head is spinning, and the wine isn’t exactly helping with my memory retention at the moment. But it is distracting me enough to not think about Nix every other second. Thank fuck.

  “It’s okay, Clover. You’ll meet them all, eventually. After you do, it’ll be easier to remember who is who,” Lily offers.

  “If you say so.” I laugh.

  “That just leaves Aunt Pearl and Uncle Vic.”

  Then I learn all about the fourth branch of the Colton family. They own the storage facility. Pearl is also the second council member of the family, and she and Victor, aka Vic, have two sons and one daughter. Hunter is apparently the recluse of the family and not around much except for important, high-profile jobs with the security company that Faust and Garrick run. Otherwise, he’s out on his own and comes back sporadically. Arrow was apprenticing at Nix’s tattoo shop and was also one of the cousins on that delivery when Nix got stabbed. He’s also the one who blabbed to Rosie about her stitching said stab wound. Boy’s a natural gossip girl, apparently. Lastly, I hear about Emerald, the other artist in the family. She drew the astonishing picture of Nix I had seen on my first day here.

  Rosie and Lily also tell me about their parents, Cherry and Charlie. They own the bakery, of course, and Charlie is a carpenter. Making most of the furniture used in their many businesses and selling online out of their home. Rosie boasts about the many things her father has made. Including the bar stools at Colt’s, the counter at the bakery, the front counter at Nix’s tattoo shop, as well as his tattoo chairs. Just to name a few. They have no other children other than the two girls. Whom I already know plenty about.

  Hearing about their family and their stories about birthdays and family holidays, with funny stories about one cousin or the other, is conflicting. I’m happy because of their amazing family dynamic, but sad, as well. I never had anything like what they have. All I had was my mom. And it was wonderful until she was gone. She was my whole family, and without her, I’m lost. Being around the Coltons, I feel like I’m finding something. Something I didn’t know I could ever have.

  I let myself daydream for a moment about truly being part of their family. I dream of large Christmas celebrations, hectic birthday parties for future children, relaxing and memorable family vacations to the ocean. That’s exactly what it is, though, a dream. The best I can hope for is to be Rosie’s best friend and maybe get to tag along sometimes. Play pretend with them—even that’ll be enough for me—more than I could ever ask for from them. Even with all the talk about the Syndicate and their businesses, they’re just a family. They’re just people living their lives and supporting their loved ones, and I’m just happy to be any part of it.

  “So, tell us, Clover.” Rosie shatters my little fantasy and brings me back to the present. “How is it living with our cousins?”

  “It’s great.” Is all I say. Trying to sound as honest as possible but failing miserably.

  “That’s it? That’s all we get? It’s great. Living with Nix cannot be great. He has to be a pain in the ass.” Rosie argues.

  “It’s okay, you can tell us. We know Nix can be difficult sometimes.” Lily offers, trying to coax more info out of me. They both lean forward a little, waiting for my response. Wow, they really want to know. Was it really that weird for me to be living with them?

  “He’s fine, really.” They both look at me knowingly. One of Rosie’s eyebrows is raised unbelievingly. They can tell I’m lying, or at least not being completely truthful. So, I give in a little.

  “Well, he does bring women home at all hours. I actually walked in on him the other day with one. She was…”

  “No, no, no, no, no!” They both yell in unison, waving their hands manically, trying to cut me off.

  “We do not need to hear about Nix’s sexual conquests.” Lily shakes her head adamantly, a look of horror and disgust crossing her face as she holds her chest like a true southern belle. Is he really that bad? I have already seen him with two women, and I haven’t lived with him for a month yet. Seems my fantasies about Nix would always stay that. Fantasies.

  “Anyway, it’s uncomfortable when he does. But it’s his house. He can do what he wants.” My tone is sure to expose my true discomfort and ache I feel in my heart. It’s hard to hide, but I do my best.

  “That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t take you into consideration.” Rosie seems upset on my behalf. God, I love this girl. She’s already such a good friend. Getting angry at her own cousin for me. Her brow furrowing, and I can just picture her imagining smacking Nix in the back of the head and cursing him out while he stands there helpless. The edges of my lips quirk a little, picturing it.

  “He could at least warn you, so you don’t walk in on him.” What Lily doesn’t know is that I think he wanted me to see them. I keep that to myself, though—no need to dig further into this strange and unusual relationship we have. There’s really nothing there, anyway. It’s pointless to spend so much of my time trying to figure out something that is nonexistent.

  “That would be nice. However, I highly doubt anyone can get Nix to do anything he doesn’t want to.” I speak down into my wine glass, really not wanting to make eye contact with the two sisters. I don’t want them to realize how much it affects me to see him with other women. Because it shouldn’t affect me. I can’t let it affect me.

  “That is true. He is a stubborn ass. Yet, you were able to force him to let you help when he got stabbed on that delivery. You were the one he let stitch him up. He doesn’t let many people in. And he hates asking for help. The fact that he let you help him is astonishing in itself. So, I think if anyone can make him change his ways, maybe you can.” Rosie cocks her head at me, trying to look me in the eye.

  Her words pull at my heart. She thinks he’s different with me. That I have an effect on him. I don’t know that I believe her. My heart wants to believe her, but my mind knows better. There’s nothing I can say to her, at least nothing I can say without giving away what I still don’t want to admit out loud.

  “Just give him some time to get used to you being there. He’s never lived with a woman who wasn’
t his mother or sister. He’s probably just as lost as you are.” I know Lily is trying to reassure me. I just don’t know that it’s working.

  “He really is a good guy, Clover. Underneath all that attitude and crass, there’s a good loyal man. You just have to get through all the sexist pigheaded layers to get to it.” I know Rosie is right. I’ve seen glimpses of it. Admitting that to her would be admitting that he’s shown it to me. Which is probably highly unusual, and I don’t want to get into the logistics of what that means.

  So instead, I nod quietly, shoving pizza in my mouth so I don’t have to say anything. Luckily the subject is dropped, and they start to talk about something else that I don’t really hear. My mind is still stuck on Nix. I really need to get over this obsession with him. It’s not healthy. Even if I can still feel his broad shoulders on my fingers from when I checked his wound not even two days ago. And his breath brushing over my neck this morning. Stop it, Clover. You’re only making it worse thinking about him. Remember, he doesn’t really want you. He’s just a horny man with a dick looking for somewhere warm and wet to stick it. So, for the rest of the night, every time Nix slips into my mind, I push him out. Just like he would push me out the morning after if I ever let him in my bed.

  Chapter 18

  Phoenix

  I t’s been weeks since that morning with Clover. The one where she looked at me with equal parts lust and disgust. Ever since that fateful morning, she hasn’t once walked around in her customary ass-enhancing pajamas. Keeping herself covered, keeping those beautiful, sweet cheeks covered. I dream about her and her panties—sexy black lace thongs, sweet pink ruffled bikinis, and even white cotton boy shorts. Those are actually my favorite. The others aren’t truly Clover. But my sex-deprived brain doesn’t know that and keeps dreaming of her bending over in all types of underwear.

  I also haven’t been able to bring a woman home since I let Clover walk in on Joleen and me. It’s making it harder by the day to not act on my desires. I hadn’t planned on letting her see me that morning, but in my lust-fogged brain, it seemed like a great idea at the time. Not to mention, it made me come harder than I ever had before. Just thinking about it makes my dick perk up and pay attention—Clover watching me, not Joleen sucking me off—I couldn’t care less about her. Lately, though, I’ve realized that I do care about Clover and what she thinks of me. Which is weird. It never mattered to me before. Yet, for some reason, she matters. This tiny spitfire redhead matters.

  The way she’s acted since then, though, has sucked massive horse dick. Clover is obviously distancing herself from me. There are no more flirty morning encounters, and her sassy banter is at a minimum. Giving me only short, sharp responses. Sometimes they’re playful, but I can see her mentally chastising herself every time she lets one slip, then she leaves abruptly. Other times she’s monotone and robotic in nature. Simple two-word direct answers only. It’s torture. This thing happens in my chest every time she turns her back to me and walks away. Every time it feels like she’s ripping out a piece of my flesh and devouring it.

  I miss our witty, playful banter. I miss the flirty, pervy side of her. If I’m honest with myself, I just fucking miss her. I never thought I could miss a woman. Especially a woman I’d never even fucked. Watching her night after night in the bar, laughing and smiling at everyone but me.—twists at my insides. I want her to smile because I make her because she can’t stop herself. The repartee we had going was more than I’d ever allowed myself to have with a woman, and I want more. Every goddamned day I wake up seeking it out. Searching for one genuine smile or playful glimmer in her eye. Instead, all I get is a half-cocked grin when forced. It really fucking sucks. I never knew not having a woman could feel so shitty.

  What the hell did I do to make her dislike me? It had to be the blow job. That’s when all this started. Why would she care, though? I know it was improper or whatever the fuck, but it’s not like I’m a proper kinda guy. She knew that moving in and it hadn’t bothered her before. Then why are things so weird now? Maybe it bothers her to see me with other women. There’s no one I’d love to suck my cock more than Clover. My balls are turning a deep shade of blue because of her, even with the daily fantasy-filled Clover jerk-off sessions. I just hear her voice, and heat runs through my entire body while all my blood rushes straight to my dick.

  Unsure of what the hell else I can do or why I am acting like this. I decide to have a little chat with someone who can give me unbiased and non-judgmental advice on the matter: my cousin Magnus. He is always the best sounding board for my problems that I don’t feel I can talk to anyone else about. All the others don’t think I can be serious about anything. So, when I want to talk about something, he is the only one I trust to listen and understand me.

  It’s a Wednesday, and I know I will find him at the bakery. I’m one of the few people in the family who knows about his little secret. Like me, people don’t always understand his ways, so he keeps his hobby private. I, however, flaunt my little hobby publicly. I’m starting to see why Magnus likes to keep his secret. Being judged by others because of it was never an issue before until now—until Clover.

  Magnus only goes to the bakery when Aunt Cherry isn’t there. Rosie and Lily know about it, as do a few of the employees at the bakery. They’re not involved in the family’s business, though, so they don’t say anything to anyone. Other than that, besides me, I don’t think anyone else knows, maybe one or two of his other siblings, perhaps. Not even Arrow, and he’s the family gossip girl.

  Today, I try to catch Clover before I go to the bakery. She isn’t up yet, so I don’t even get a chance to try to make her smile. This is getting exhausting. I can’t take the awkwardness and avoidance anymore, and I need to change things, like now.

  I arrive at Cherry’s Pie Bakery and park in the back near the employee’s entrance. Magnus won’t be upfront. He’ll be in the far back of the kitchen baking. That’s exactly where I find him when I enter.

  Standing at a large metal table, my six-foot-two cousin is wearing a pink apron with the logo of the bakery on the front—an illustration of a steaming cherry pie with Cherry’s written in large curly lettering across it. Covered in flour and sugar, he’s kneading dough of some sort. The tattoos of Japanese coy fish and flowers I inked on his right arm are covered with a dusting of the white powder mix. The same arm that not that long ago was covered in blood, along with my own.

  “Magnus,” I say as I approach him from behind. He stops tossing the dough and turns to look at me.

  “Nix. What are you doing here?” He approaches me for a hug, but I back away, pointing at the white powder all over him. “Oh, sorry.” He chuckles.

  “I was craving your delicious donuts. So, I thought I’d stop by and pick some up.” I can already tell he doesn’t believe me as I step to the other side of the table—a scrutinizing smirk quirks up one corner of his mouth.

  “As amazing as my donuts are, we both know that’s not why you’re here.” Returning to the table, his hands and wrists are deep in the dough again.

  “You only seek me out like this when you have a problem you can’t talk to anyone else about.”

  He always sees right through me. Although he’s right, I don’t want him to feel like I only ever want to see him when I have a problem I need his help with. Personal or professional.

  “What are you talkin’ about? I just wanted to hang with my cousin. Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Must be something serious.”

  “I just wanted to see you.” Again, he doesn’t seem to believe me.

  “I’m guessing it’s about a girl.” His kneading slows as he squints at me.

  “Girl? There’s no girl.” I laugh.

  “Perhaps a short trigger-happy sexy redhead?”

  “This is not about Clover.” I try to brush it off. But as per usual, he’s hit the nail on the head.

  “That’s not what Lily said.”

  “What did Lily say? Does she know someth
ing?” Dammit. Now I can’t deny that it’s about Clover. But if Lily knows something, I need to know what she said. Anxiously, I shift forward a little, waiting for him to tell me what she said. He doesn’t say anything. He just wipes his hands on his apron and reties his dark brown hair back in a short ponytail at the base of his neck. He’s trying to wear me down. It won’t fucking work. He’ll spill eventually.

  He doesn’t. He just stands there with his arms crossed, staring at me. I tap my fingers on the tabletop rapidly until I can’t take it anymore and give in.

  “Fuck. Okay, fine. It’s about Clover.” I spit out. His eyes almost bug out of his head.

  “No shit? I thought Rose and Lily were fucking with me. But you really do have a thing for your hot roommate.”

  Heat boils in my veins without my consent. My jealousy rearing its nasty head even when my cousin casually talks about Clover. Not that he’s wrong. She is hot. But why is he checking her out? And when has he ever even seen her? As far as I know, he’s never met her, only heard about her from family members. It’s not completely unbelievable that he might have seen her at the bar. Everyone goes there. I have to shake off the desire to throat punch him that my unprecedented jealousy causes and try to be cool about it. Letting out a slow breath.

  “I do not have a thing for my roommate.” I just really want to stick my dick in her sweet little pussy.

  “Oh, you so fucking do.” He laughs. I growl.

 

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