by Lacey Black
“Harper in a bikini? I’m in too.” Latham has an ornery smirk on his face as his eyes travel down his girlfriend’s body. She’s wearing a cute pink smock top and white Bermuda shorts.
“Give the girl some room,” Mary Ann says, pushing through the small group until she’s standing directly in front of me. “Come here, you.” Then her arms are around me and I’m engulfed in a fierce hug. Jensen’s mom smells like vanilla and cinnamon, a familiar scent that takes me back to a time when I spent a lot of my childhood with this family.
I open my mouth to say something, but my throat is closed. I’m choking on emotions and I’m not sure where they came from. Out of the blue, I feel overjoyed and elated to be here, wrapped in Mary Ann’s arms. I blink rapidly, trying to will away the tears, but one slips out. She pulls back and smiles at me, her hands still holding me firmly by the arms. “Oh, don’t you do that, sweet girl. No tears or you’ll make me cry too.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not really sure what I’m apologizing for. The tears or the past. Probably both.
Mary Ann scoffs. “Don’t you worry about any of that. What’s in the past is past. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters,” she says with a wink. “Besides, I made the cheesy mac and cheese with extra bacon just for you.”
“I can’t wait,” I reply, a smile playing on my lips.
“Now, I better get back inside before my grandson eats more than the one cookie I set out for him,” she says, patting my hand and then turning and heading back to the house.
“You left him alone with the cookies?” Jensen hollers at his mom.
She turns and shrugs. “I’m Grandma. He can have whatever he wants.”
Jensen groans and Harper laughs. “Just you wait. You’ll have kids soon and you’ll know what it’s like to be completely undermined by the grandma factor.”
A look passes between Harper and Latham and I can’t help but wonder what it means. As far as I know, they’ve only dated for a handful of weeks and recently moved in together. But their attraction has been brewing for a long time. Even when we were in school, there was just something about their love/hate relationship that screamed sexual chemistry. It may have taken them a while to get here, but I have a feeling, just by watching them interact the two times I’ve seen them, they’re forever.
“Oh, Riss, don’t forget the Ladies’ Night Out is set for Thursday night. Can you still whip up a few batches of cookies?” Harper asks her sister.
“Absolutely. I’ll make you those new s’mores muffins too.”
“That sounds amazing. Whatever you want, just let me know how much. I’m serving lemonade and bought a few bottles of wine from a North Carolina vineyard,” Harper adds, her eyes connecting with mine. “Kathryn, if you’re not doing anything Thursday night, you should come by the shop. Some of the small businesses have organized a Ladies’ Night Out. I’ll have some goodies to eat and some wine. Plus, I’m running a special on bra and panty sets.”
I can feel the blush creeping in. There’s just something about discussing bras and panties in front of Jensen and his family that makes me a little nervous. Obviously, Harper isn’t fazed in the least. She tells her sister about some of the new items she got in as if she were talking about the weather.
“Seriously, come by the shop,” she adds.
“I will, thank you.”
Latham pulls her toward the coolers that are set outside, but before she’s completely out of earshot, she hollers, “Anytime after seven.”
I feel Jensen’s hand on my lower back. “Looks like you have plans on Thursday night,” he says.
My reply is a small smile and a nod. It makes me feel good to be invited to their gathering, even if it’s only in the hopes I’ll spend a little money. I realize I’m looking forward to Thursday night. I’m excited to shop at Harper’s boutique and maybe even spend a little girl time with Jensen’s sisters.
The rest of the afternoon progresses wonderfully. The weather is warm, yet the yard is shaded enough to provide comfort against the heat. A handful of guests staying at the bed and breakfast mill around and visit, enjoying appetizers and drinks Marissa prepared.
Samuel arrived a bit ago in a full suit. He said he just finished a funeral for someone I vaguely remember, but apparently had no desire to stop by his place and change his clothes into something more comfortable. When Freedom arrives a bit later, it’s like the air changes. Samuel becomes tense (even more tense than normal), and even though he gives off the appearance of ignoring her, I catch the way his eyes casually follow her movements around the yard.
Latham and Rhenn fire up the grill and the guys seem to all congregate in that area. Marissa hovers nearby, but doesn’t actually step in. I can tell she’s not used to giving up control over a meal, but she does so when Rhenn takes the grill spatula, kisses her on the tip of the nose, and sends her off to sit with us under the oak tree. I split my time between visiting with those sitting around me and watching Jensen and Max play catch. They’re off to the side so they don’t hit anyone, and I can’t get over how effortless their play is. I excuse myself from the group and make my way to where father and son are playing.
“Hey,” I say as Jensen catches the ball in his mitt and throws it back to Max.
“Having fun?” he asks, glancing my way, but quickly returning his eyes back to the kid across from him.
“Yes. Today has been very relaxing and enjoyable,” I tell him as the ball comes sailing back our way. Jensen easily catches it before tossing it back. “Wow, he’s really good at that,” I observe as Max snatches the baseball from the air and lobs it back to his dad.
“He is. He’s been playing all summer. Here.” Jensen holds out his hand, the ball between his fingers.
“Oh, no, I can’t.”
“You can’t?” he asks, eyebrows arched toward his hairline.
“I’ve never really played,” I reply, glancing to where Max stands, eagerly waiting for the ball.
“Really?” he bemuses, tossing it back to his son.
“Really. I hated sports growing up. The only ball I’ve thrown was in PE, and even then, everyone knew I couldn’t play, so they never gave me the ball.”
When the ball returns to Jensen, he pops off his glove and hands it to me. “Here, put this on.”
I’m hesitant at first, not really wanting to embarrass myself by trying to play catch, but eventually slide the glove on my hand. He holds out the ball, which I take in my right hand, and then stands there watching.
“Well, go ahead and throw it.”
“But…what if I hurt him?”
“Max? Are you going to intentionally throw the baseball to hurt him?” he asks, his voice gentle and calm.
“What? No!” I gasp, my eyes wide as I gaze at him.
“Of course you’re not. Accidents sometimes happen, Kate, I’ll be honest, but Max is a pretty good player. You throw it, he’ll catch it.”
“But…”
“No buts, Butterfly. Don’t think. Just lock your eyes on Max and throw him the ball.”
I exhale deeply, the weight of the ball in my hand feeling like a piece of lead. When I open my eyes, they lock on the little boy standing about twenty feet across from me. He gives me a wide toothy grin, his glove ready to catch whatever I throw his way. I take a step forward, raise my hand, and release the ball without giving it another thought. The ball goes sailing through the air, wide and to the right, but the little boy eagerly runs a few steps and catches it. The sound of the ball hitting the glove practically echoes through the yard like a cannon.
“I did it,” I whisper, the smile on my face instantaneous.
“You did,” he says, an encouraging, proud smile on his face. “Good job.”
“What now?”
“Now you stand there and wait for him to throw it back.”
“Throw it back? As in…catch it?” I ask, the panic starting to bubble to the surface.
“Yep, just catch it, Kate. You got this,” he says
, turning his attention to his son. There’s a slight shadow across his jaw from today’s hair growth and I can’t help but think about how that very jaw felt Saturday night rubbing against my sensitive thigh. “Kate?” he asks, my eyes moving upward until they clash with his.
“Yeah?”
The slightest smirk spreads on his lips. “You better keep your eye on the ball, Butterfly.”
“Oh!” I yell, turning away from the handsome man beside me and facing the four-year-old ready to hurl a hard baseball at my head.
Max is all business as he waits for me to get ready. I’m not sure how you get ready to catch a baseball, but I think I’m prepared as best as I can. I mean, I’ve got the glove up by my face to protect against any vital face injury. That’s important, right? No one wants to take a ball to the nose like Marcia Brady.
Max starts to giggle as Jensen reaches over and gently pulls the glove from obstructing my view. “Just hold it right here. He won’t throw it very hard, so your reflexes will have time to catch it.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to get hit in the face,” I say, doubting I should even be standing on this side of the game of catch. I mean, throwing the ball is one thing, but catching it in the glove (not with my face) is another.
“You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Trust me. Trust Max.”
Exhaling deeply once more, I hold the glove where he instructs and wait for the ball to come flying at my face. I watch as Max brings up his arm and asks, “Ready?”
I nod frantically and wait. The ball is tossed in my direction, not nearly as fast as I was expecting. I easily move the glove to the side to catch it. Unfortunately, the ball hits the tip of the glove and bounces off. “Damn it,” I mumble, bending down and picking up the ball.
“It’s okay. You did good,” Jensen says in a total dad tone, like he’s speaking to a child.
“No, I didn’t. I missed it.” I tell him, taking my stance again and getting ready to throw the ball back to Max. “Again,” I tell him, anxious to catch it this time around.
I toss the ball and he doesn’t have to move to catch it this time. It sails directly into his glove and before I know it, he’s tossing it back. I have no time to think or prepare, just adjust my glove. But this time, the ball hits me square in the glove with a satisfying thump. “I did it!” I yell, dropping the ball from the glove as I do a little shimmy and shake in victory.
“Good job, Kate! Now you can play catch with me all the time!” Max yells, jumping up and down along with me.
I glance at Jensen. His eyes are hungry with desire as he watches my little victory dance. He takes a step toward me, invading my personal space, reaching down to pick up the baseball and whispers, “I knew you could do it.”
“It must have been the teacher,” I tell him, smiling like a loon.
“Ehh, it’s the player,” he says, handing me back the ball. “Better throw it back. Max is waiting.”
And that’s how I spend the next fifteen minutes.
“Dinner’s ready,” Mary Ann hollers from the porch, pulling everyone’s attention. Jensen takes the ball glove from my hand and heads over to collect Max’s. The little guy is already sprinting toward the food line, his grandma there, waiting with an empty plate.
Slowly, everyone makes their way to the porch and loads up their plates with delicious homemade food. I grab a hotdog and plenty of the cheesy mac and cheese with bacon, some fresh fruit, and baked beans before heading over to find a seat at one of the tables under the shade tree. Jensen follows behind, sliding onto the bench between Max and me. Soon, everyone takes a seat and practically inhales all the amazing food Mary Ann and Marissa prepared.
“Emma and Orval want to come down next weekend,” Mary Ann says, making Samuel groan. “We don’t have any vacancy, though, and you know there won’t be any in town either.” She’s referring to the other bed and breakfasts in Rockland Falls, and I can tell by the way she says it that there’s more to this story.
“Orval is my mom’s brother that I told you about,” Jensen whispers beside me, referring to the long-lost brother his mother has.
“Our guest room is torn up, remember? There’s no way we’ll get the closet finished, walls painted, and new flooring in before Friday,” Harper says with a shrug, but it’s the glint in her sparkling blue eyes that I notice right away.
“And I’ll have Max, so I don’t have any extra room,” Jensen adds, the corners of his mouth fighting to not turn upward.
“I’m busy,” Samuel says, straightening his already straight necktie.
“Your work schedule doesn’t have anything to do with family using your guest room,” Mary Ann says gently.
Samuel scoffs. “The last time they used my spare bedroom, I found the plastic packaging for a vibrator on the floor and a note that said I was out of KY.” Everyone at the table, with the exception of Max who’s obliviously eating macaroni and cheese with bacon, bursts out laughing. “It’s not funny. I don’t even own KY.”
“Oh, Sammy, liven up a little, will ya? Share your house. Buy them KY. They’re family,” Freedom adds, her bangle bracelets jangling as she reaches for the bowl of watermelon.
Jensen’s oldest brother gives her a look of horror. “I am not buying KY.”
“For them or for you?” she asks sweetly.
“Neither,” he growls, adjusting the necktie once more. It’s almost like a nervous thing he does when he gets riled up, and if there’s one thing I’ve noticed in the last two hours, it’s Freedom definitely gets him all sorts of worked up.
“They could stay with me.” I don’t know why I said it, but the words were out before I could stop them. Actually, no, that’s not true. The fact is I have a huge house with umpteen bedrooms and no one else to share them with. A little company might be just what the doctor ordered.
Everyone stops and looks at me. I can tell I’ve overstepped. Their faces are a mixture of relief and horror, most likely because I’m not even a part of this family and I’m offering up bedroom space for some out-of-town family.
“You don’t have to do that,” Jensen insists.
“Yes. She has room. They can stay with Kathryn. Case closed,” Samuel says, reaching for his hamburger as if there’s no more need for discussion.
“I don’t want to overstep,” I start, but am cut off by Jensen’s younger sister.
“You’re not overstepping,” she insists. “It’s just that…Aunt Emma and Uncle Orval are…different.”
Rhenn snorts. “Different, my ass. Those ol’ birds are nuts—the good kind, of course.”
Latham glances over at me with a serious face. “Let me ask you, Kathryn, do you own a sex swing?”
My eyes are as wide as the plate in front of me, and I’m pretty sure my blush is the color of a fuchsia crayon as the others hoot with laughter. “They bought one for Abby and Levi. You knew that right?” Harper asks her family.
I’m completely lost. I’ve offered up my home to a couple who uses a sex swing? What in the…
“Listen, Kathryn, that’s very nice of you to offer. I’m sure they’d love to stay with you for a few days, if you really don’t mind. Orval and Emma are good people, if not a little on the…eccentric side.”
“They have sex all the time,” Marissa whispers, her face blushing as badly as mine.
“All. The. Time,” Rhenn insists.
“As long as you have earplugs, I think you’ll be okay,” Samuel assures.
“Just remember to always knock or make a lot of loud noise before you enter any room,” Harper instructs.
“That includes the pantry or the broom closet,” Freedom says with a giggle.
I glance over at Jensen with what is probably considered a horrified look. He gives me a big grin and takes my hand in his. “It’ll be okay, I promise. They really are the best, but neither of them have a filter and can be a tad inappropriate at times.”
“It’s only for a few days. I mean, how much trouble could they be?” I ask.
I�
�m met with silence.
Something tells me I’m in for a little trouble.
Chapter Fifteen
Jensen
I’ve barely gotten my hands on Kate all week, and I don’t like it. I’ve had Max during the evenings, so the only time I can steal a few minutes of alone time with Kate is during the workday. Not ideal, especially with a dozen or so workers finishing up around the house, but I’ve managed a quick make-out session in her newly finished kitchen pantry as well as a little teenage groping in the laundry room. The only thing that did was ensure I was jerking off late at night in bed to the image of her naked body.
It’s Thursday, and I’m tired of seeing her in passing. She must feel the same way, because she invited Max and I over for pizza before she heads to my sister’s shop for that Ladies’ Night Out thing. The prospect of Kate doing a little shopping at the store has my cock so damn hard, I can barely think straight. In fact, I’m pretty sure Wes is wondering what the hell is wrong with me today, considering I started paving the back walkway with the wrong stone.
It’s Kate.
She makes it so I can’t even complete the simplest, most mundane tasks.
“Hey.” I hear her sweet voice as I’m wrapping up the day. I’ve already sent Wes home a few minutes early so I can sneak out of here, grab Max from the sitter’s house, jump in the shower, and get back here for pizza.
When I turn around, I’m awestruck at how fucking beautiful she is. “Hi,” I reply, my tongue feeling a little heavy.
“So, I’ll have the pizza delivered for six, if that’s okay with you.” She takes a step closer, her familiar scent wrapping around me and refusing to let go.
“Sounds good. I’m getting ready to head out. I’m grabbing Max and a shower, and we’ll be back in about thirty minutes.”
“Perfect,” she says, a tentative smile on her face.
“What’s up?” I ask, throwing my shovel to the side and giving her my full attention.
“Nothing,” she insists quickly. “I was just thinking, since most of the updates are almost finished…”
I step forward again. Now my body is practically pressed against hers. “What?”