by Lara Norman
“Oh, Grant’s a great cook. It smells like his famous chili.”
Grant shot her a grin as he came back into the living room. “And it’s ready whenever you are, sweetheart.”
“Let me show Luna my room and we’ll be right out.”
Grant kissed her on the head as she passed him to the hallway. She’d not only missed him, she’d missed the comfort of their home. It was familiar, it was cozy, and there was nobody to avoid. She hoped Luna would feel welcome for the next four days.
“Here’s my room. Put your stuff wherever, I’m not picky. Trust me, the only reason the room is clean is because I was leaving and I didn’t want Grant to have to clean it for me.”
Luna laughed. “You’re a slob.”
“Yep, and not ashamed of it. I’ll try to keep it tidy for your sake like I do at the dorm.”
They smirked at each other for a second before dropping their things on Reagan’s bed and going to the kitchen where they found Grant ladling chili into bowls.
“Hey. What do you want to drink?” he asked them.
“Milk, if you made it three-alarm.”
He chuckled. “Naw, only two-alarm. Didn't know how spicy Luna would want it.”
“Then whatever soda you have is fine.”
“Coming up.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Reagan said in a lowered voice to Luna. “He doesn't normally serve me, he’s just happy I’m home and wants you to feel special.”
“I’m good with self-serve,” Luna responded.
“Here you go.” Grant heard his sister, and he smiled to himself. He did miss her, and he wanted to make a good impression on her friend.
They sat in silence for a few minutes as they ate. Luna was impressed at how good the chili was; despite Reagan’s claims, Luna had gone on the assumption that she was talking up her brother. Turned out he was a good cook.
“How’s school treating you, Ray?” Grant finally asked.
She swallowed and tried to find a diplomatic answer. “Much better with Luna and Davis to bail me out of my terrible dorm situation.”
“Davis? He your boyfriend?” Grant glared a laser-focused hole in Reagan’s head, but she just laughed.
“Nope, he’s Luna’s complication, not mine.”
Luna blushed and Reagan laughed some more. Grant relaxed. His sister had mentioned friends, more specifically, Luna, but never mentioned a boyfriend. He had a combination of hopes for her, like staying safe but being happy.
“No boys for you?”
“No boys,” she promised. Hudson was a grown man, after all. Not that he acted like it half the time.
“I’ve been friends with Davis for a few years. He’s a good guy, so you don’t have to worry about Reagan. One or the other of us is always looking out for her.”
“Why aren’t you dating him if he’s a good guy?” Grant asked casually.
Luna hummed. “It’s complicated.” It was probably a cop-out, but it was an easy answer to fall back on.
“Okay, I won’t touch that one. I’m just grateful my sister has people that care about her while she’s away from home.”
“Jeez, Grant, dial down the big brother routine.” Reagan rolled her eyes as she ate. It was not the first time they’d had such a discussion.
“Hey, I practically raised you.” He pointed his spoon at her. “I can’t help it if it feels like you’re half my sister and half my daughter.”
“As long as you don’t expect me to call you daddy because then things would get weird.”
Grant boomed out a loud laugh and threw his napkin at her smirking face. “Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
It was after lunch that Luna and Reagan were in the bedroom talking. “Please don’t tell your brother I said this, and for the love of God, don’t tell Davis, but Grant is hot.”
Reagan groaned. “Not you, too! All of my high school friends said the same thing.”
“Well, he is. Don’t worry, I’m not harboring any feelings for him. Those are still all tangled up with Davis.” Luna flopped onto the bed.
“He’s always had women hitting on him, but he turned them all down before I left. I hope he’s getting some action now that he’s alone.”
“It’s the tattoos. Or maybe it’s the beard.” Luna sat up. “It’s the muscles, and the way he dotes on you, and the deep voice with the accent.” Luna shivered. If she didn’t have a complicated love/hate relationship already, she’d be interested in the older Hughes sibling.
“Gross.”
Luna laughed. “I don't blame you for not seeing it. You’re not supposed to find your brother attractive.”
Reagan sighed. “Objectively, I know he has all the right qualities a woman would want. I want him to be happy, same as he wants for me. I just don’t want to think too hard about him and some woman scratching each other’s itch.”
“No, I don’t imagine you do. Hopefully, he’s found somebody. He’ll probably grill you about every boy you’ve met since going to school.”
Reagan sighed. That was exactly what she was afraid of, and she didn’t want to lie to her brother. “Well, there’s nothing to tell. No boys have shown any interest in me.”
“They will. Just wait.”
Reagan didn’t say it, but the last thing she wanted was more trouble with boys—or men.
Chapter Thirteen
Grant was so happy to have Reagan home. They’d never been apart for more than a few nights at a time in all of her eighteen years. He didn't mind admitting that he was lonely without his baby sister. Sure, there had been a handful of offers here and there, always had been, but he wasn’t the type to go for something casual. He’d been out in the three months since Reagan moved to school and had some fun. He wasn’t looking to stick his dick in any random woman, but that never seemed to turn them off for some reason. He’d had two girlfriends over the years that Reagan didn't know about; women he liked enough to spend time with, but not enough to bring them home to his sister.
“Rise and shine, ladies.” He stood outside the bedroom door that he’d only opened a crack.
“Go away!”
He laughed loudly at Reagan’s attempt to shoo him off. “I made breakfast. Come and get it.”
He heard her muffled groan and was positive that was followed by the sound of her feet hitting the floor. He left the hallway so she could cross to the bathroom in peace.
Reagan found Grant in the kitchen sipping coffee as he leaned up against the counter. She walked up to him and fit herself under his chin as she’d done countless times. He set his mug down and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the top of the head.
“Morning.”
“I missed this,” she mumbled into his shirt. He was warm and solid, the epitome of home for her. “All I get in the mornings is a grumpy roommate.”
“Sorry, sweets.”
They stood in silence and soaked each other up until Luna shuffled into the kitchen in slippers and a bathrobe over her pajamas. “Good morning, you two.”
“Oh yeah.” Grant chuckled. “I did promise breakfast, didn’t I?”
He pulled a skillet of eggs out of the oven where he’d been keeping them warm, followed by a plate of bacon from the microwave.
They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. Each of the girls accepted coffee and tried to feel awake. They’d spent the night hours talking instead of sleeping. It never seemed to matter how much time they spent together, they never ran out of things to say. Reagan had been told all of her life that she was an old soul, and it wasn’t surprising that she attracted those older than her as friends. After their plates were empty and the coffee pot was drained, Grant piled the dishwasher with what they’d dirtied while the girls got dressed.
“What should we do today?” Reagan asked her brother as they sat in the living room.
“The plantation?” Grant suggested. He watched Reagan glance at Luna, who shrugged.
“I’m up for whatever. We can hang
out here if you would rather.”
Reagan nodded at Luna. “I think you’d like the plantation, but it’s not an all-day thing. We can tour the grounds and the gardens. There are some outbuildings we can look at it, but the main house is private tours only.”
“If it’s something you’ve done a hundred times and you can barely picture doing it one more time to appease a friend, then we can think of something else.” Luna shrugged. Reagan knew how easy going she was.
“There’s Virginia House and Agecroft Hall,” Grant said. He didn't mind touring old mansions for a day if it made his sister happy.
“They’re pretty impressive, and it’s been years since we’ve been there.” Reagan was more excited about that prospect, and Luna could tell that was where she preferred to go.
“Let’s do that, then.”
They agreed to take Grant’s truck and waited for him to get his shoes and wallet. He had to grab his leather jacket since it was barely creeping into the fifties, but he rarely got cold. The three of them clambered down the stairs and into the four-door truck. The girls decided to sit together in the back, causing Grant to grumble good-naturedly about being a chauffeur. It wasn’t a long drive to their destination, and soon they were parking in front of Agecroft Hall.
“Wow,” Luna said.
“Doesn’t look like anything that belongs in the south, does it?”
“Yeah, yeah, remind me I‘m a Yankee.” It was said without rancor, as they had both teased each other for their origins plenty of times in the past few months.
They spent some time walking around the estate and listening to the docent tell them about the architecture and the original owners. By the time they walked back to the truck, Reagan was excited to show Luna the Virginia House.
“Holy shit,” Luna breathed.
Reagan laughed. “Built in England, disassembled, and reassembled here. Crazy, huh?”
Grant led them to the entrance and paid for their tours, ignoring the protests from the girls. The house was massive and completely different from the one they just came from. It took longer to tour, especially since it had warmed up some and Reagan wanted to see the gardens.
“Wanna hit Bernie’s?” Grant asked as they strolled back to the parking lot.
Reagan’s eyes lit up as they reached his. “Yes!” She turned to Luna. “Pizza and subs.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They managed to find a table in the small restaurant when they arrived. After gaining Luna’s approval, Grant went to order his and Reagan’s favorite sub for all three of them. Luna looked around at all the pennants hanging from the ceiling.
“Fresh bread and pepper relish. That’s all I have to say.” Reagan took her coat off and hung it on the back of her chair.
“It sure sounds good.” Luna caught a guy looking their way and averted her eyes. “Three o’clock, blond hair and tattoos.”
“You just described my brother.”
Luna rolled her eyes. “No, closer to yours than Grant’s dark blond. Not very muscular.” She risked a glance, saw the guy was definitely looking at Reagan. “Ooh, he’s getting up. Walking, walking—shit!”
At Luna’s exclamation, Reagan looked up into the familiar deep brown eyes of her brother.
“Here we go.” He set the food on the table with a stack of napkins, unaware that he’d thwarted anyone’s advances.
“Thanks, Grant. It looks really good.”
Luna dug in first while Reagan tried to decide if she was happy that Grant reached them before the guy did, or not. It certainly would have been awkward if Grant had come to the table to find a man standing there, and Reagan was only in town for a few more days.
What she couldn't admit to herself was that she would never be interested in another man while things were still up in the air with Hudson.
* * *
Hudson was not having nearly as much fun as Reagan and Luna. He was home alone watching football and wishing he’d had the nerve to speak up the last time he saw Reagan. He had spent the entire weekend his father was there going back and forth on convincing himself that not contacting her was the right thing to do. His conviction only lasted until he found himself in the shower picturing the way her throat bulged around his cock as she swallowed him whole.
He declined his mother’s offer to come home, mostly because he’d spent enough unwarranted time with the senator lately. The man had ruined his plans with Reagan, and Hudson knew his own lack of conviction had ruined any chances of fixing his mistake. He knew what she was doing in class when she walked by him as close as she could without being improper. She looked good, which he suspected was also on purpose. He wanted to stop her from leaving, to invite her to his office, something. Anything. And of course, what he’d actually done was nothing.
He didn't know what he wanted anymore. It was against his plans and goals to add any kind of woman into the mix, let alone one that was out of reach. He could jeopardize his career by going after her before the school year was over. The problem with waiting was that he had made her so much more irresistible by claiming her as off-limits. He tried to rationalize his cravings as only that; the primal need for what one has been told they can’t have. It didn't have anything to do with the way she reacted to his every touch as no woman had before. It wasn’t because he was more than intrigued by her body. The soft curves and ample hips were a dichotomy to his usual experiences, and he should have found that to be an itch he was scratching. An experiment, if you will. Instead, he found thinner women flirting with him to be less attractive than he would have previously.
“It’s all in your head, Clark.”
He flipped the channel to something else but found he was completely bored with it. Without putting any thought into it, he turned the TV off and grabbed his keys from the hall table on his way out the door. He drove to the bar he and José had been to before. It was full of women the last time, and his friend had scored. Surely he could find a distraction there.
He ordered at the bar and took a seat on a stool. He didn't want to bother with a table, and he swiveled on the stool to survey the room. Not too crowded, but it was the day before Thanksgiving. It was slim pickings so far, but he had hope that it would pick up in the next hour.
He was wrong. He spent his time watching the flat screens and drinking, wishing there was any kind of a willing female in the vicinity. Nobody caught his eye, but worse than that, nobody approached him. That was something he wasn’t used to at all. Women typically flocked to him and any group he arrived with. He was used to women slipping him their numbers on cocktail napkins or even hotel room keys, depending on where he was at. He was used to going out in search of a warm and willing partner and going home with the same. This lack of female attention was out of the ordinary, and he could only place the blame on himself for his obsession with Reagan.
She wasn't the only woman in the world, he reminded himself. She wasn't the only woman with that physique, that long blonde hair and light brown eyes. They reminded him of honey when it was freshly collected.
He sat up straighter. What the hell was he doing comparing her eyes to honeycombs? For the love of god, he’d lost his touch. He was reduced to daydreaming about a college girl, for crying out loud. Throwing back the last of his first and only drink, he paid and left the bar. He drove around, trying to clear his head. He knew there was only one solution, but he didn’t like it. He couldn't find another woman to fuck Reagan out of his system. Instead, he would have to fuck Reagan to get her out of his system.
He didn’t know which dorm she lived in. That was probably a blessing because he was afraid he would drive straight there and knock on her door if he had a clue which hall she was in. He saw her around with the redhead all the time, but he didn't know what dorm she lived in, either, or if she lived off-campus. The other man he’d seen her with didn’t appear to be her boyfriend, despite the fact that Reagan was with him frequently as well.
He circled the campus grounds in the hope that sh
e was there. Not many students were still around, but there were a few people gathered in the parking lot of an apartment complex across the street that was known to be popular for student housing. It wasn’t until a woman stared at him like he was a creepy stalker that he realized he was acting like a creepy stalker.
It was clear to him by then that he’d lost his damn mind.
Chapter Fourteen
Going back to school was harder than Reagan would have expected. Grant had spent all day Thursday cooking the food he’d picked up earlier in the week. Reagan helped where she could, but she wasn’t as good at it as he was, and neither of them would let Luna near the kitchen since she was their guest. There was a turkey breast, potatoes and gravy, rolls, green beans, cranberry sauce made from scratch, and store-bought pies for dessert. Though Grant was an excellent cook, he couldn't bake for shit.
Friday was spent doing laundry and going through the last of Reagan’s belongings. She didn't think she needed to bring anything else to school, but she ended up taking a few t-shirts she liked to sleep in, one of which was Grant’s. It had holes in it and he’d been about to throw it out when she stopped him. She’d forgotten about its existence, but it was one of her favorites. Then, she and Luna hit up a few stores after lunch and picked up a handful of Christmas gifts.
It reminded Reagan that she still wanted to get a job. Her meager savings was starting to dwindle, and she already felt like she freeloaded off of Davis. He insisted on paying whenever they did anything and grew indignant when she tried to turn him down. Still, she paid her own car insurance and gas, plus buying her personal products. She was about to be broke.
Saturday was spent cuddled on the big couch watching Christmas movies. They talked a lot when there was nothing on the television. Grant was interested in Luna’s stories about her internship, especially since he could pick her brain about what it would be like when Reagan got far enough into school to do the same thing. Grant talked a little about his job, but he wasn't as comfortable talking when the subject revolved around him. Sunday was hard for Grant and Reagan as she prepared to leave. She had to drive for three hours and wanted time to get unpacked and prepared to go back to school on Monday. They left shortly after breakfast, and Luna was surprised to see Grant crying as he hugged Reagan.