Totally Inevitable Intent

  “I guess so,” I agree, once again shocked at his insight.

  “Course it is.” Colt chuckles, and with that, he strides into the house like a man who doesn’t have a care in the world.

  ***

  I stand there watching her, admiring both her skill and the beautiful round ass that sways while she works on the arbor. It’s only been a few hours since she left my bed, and already I want her. But I don’t just want her physically; I want all of her. The creative mind, the skilled hands, the smart mouth that baits me, the soft heart. Yeah, Colt’s probably right. I’m falling hard. But that doesn’t scare me like it used to. Or it does, but in a different way. Thinking about Jen no longer makes me think of betraying or forgetting Katie; it makes me think of the future, even though I’m not sure what that might be. I just know I want her to be in it somehow.

  “Hey, beautiful.” I walk over and pull her in for a hug when she stands up to stretch. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Isn’t Sawyer back?”

  “Yeah, but she wanted to go to practice. I have to pick her up in about an hour. I just wanted to put this coat of finish on the arbor so it has time to dry, and I wanted to make sure the cabinet doors were ready to install tomorrow.”

  I take a look at the cabinets lined in a row along the wall of the garage. “They turned out great. So did the arbor. I might have to hire you.”

  “Sadly, I can only be seasonal help. School.” She shrugs.

  “The one you interviewed with today? Did they offer you the job?”

  “No, they wouldn’t do that right away. And even if they did, I’d have to turn it down. It’s just not feasible to work up there and live down here. But part of me still hopes they do offer. Is that weird?”

  “I don’t know. Why do you want an offer?”

  “Well, I really liked the school, and if things were different, I think it’d be the perfect fit for me. I guess if they made an offer, it would mean they felt the same.”

  “Makes sense. It’s nice to know you’re wanted, even if you can’t accept.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, either way, you are definitely wanted here.” I pull her in for a kiss and feel all my confusion about where we stand melt away. Touching her seems to have that effect on me.

  I nudge her backward until we hit the wall then spin her to face it, moving her long ponytail over her shoulder so I can kiss her neck.

  “What are you doing?” She giggles as my tongue licks a sensitive spot.

  “Taking advantage of our last day alone in the house.” I pull her shorts and panties down to her knees and stroke between her legs until she’s ready for me then pull out my dick, cover it, and plunge in deep. “I want you to think of me touching you every time we’re apart,” I growl as I thrust. "To remember what I feel like inside you, and to miss it, so you don’t stay away from me too long. If I can’t have you in my bed every night, I want you to wish you were there, so you to come to me every chance you get. Because now that you’ve made me want you, I can’t let you go.” I plunge into her with one last, powerful thrust, taking us both over the edge in a tangle of grunts and cries.

  As our heartbeats slow, I kiss her neck, her cheeks, her lips, trying to prolong our connection, and when I finally slip out, I turn her to face me. “The kids being home changes nothing.” I kiss her before she can protest. “I won’t interfere with your time with Sawyer or flaunt that we’re sleeping together. But I won’t stay away from you, either.”

  “Okay.” She nods, and I know on some level she feels the same. We may have some hurdles to jump, but what we have is worth it.

  We replace our clothes and pick up the garage so all the tools and supplies are put away. “We’re almost done,” I observe. “The cabinet doors can go in tomorrow, and then a few days of landscaping and you’ll be ready for an open house. Are you happy?”

  “Yes.” She sighs. “Everything turned out better than I could have imagined, and I loved the chance to work on it myself.”

  “You have an amazing vision. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I am, thank you.” She beams.

  “I was serious, you know. When I said I’d hire you.”

  “Don’t exaggerate.” She sticks her tongue out at me playfully.

  “I’m not. I’d put you on my crew in a heartbeat.”

  “You just want me for afternoon sex.” She laughs.

  “Well, that would be a definite perk.” I smile. “Now that I’ve had a few weeks of regular sex, I remember how much I like it. Makes me daydream about all the different ways I want to do it.”

  “You mean we haven’t reenacted all your fantasies?” She winks.

  I pull her into my arms for a thorough kiss. “I think we’re just getting started.”

  Chapter 21

  ***Sawyer***

  We pull up to the house the same time Wes arrives. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see him; the stagers are coming after lunch and he’s probably going to help move stuff in, plus I think they still have to clear all the tools out of the garage. But I was hoping to avoid him.

  I’m conflicted when it comes to Wes. On the one hand, he’s incredibly nice and fun to talk to, not to mention the fact that he’s possibly the most gorgeous boy I’ve ever seen, which I’m maybe not supposed to notice since our parents are dating. His amber eyes practically paralyze me. My heart may actually stop when they meet mine. On the other hand, he plays football, which is possibly the worst quality a person could possess.

  My mom thinks I’m overreacting to the football thing, but when it consumes your dad’s life, breaks up his marriage, fuels a series of bad choices, and makes him treat his only daughter as an afterthought, then yeah, it becomes the enemy. As a football player, Wes would normally fall into the enemy category, but since his dad is dating my mom, that complicates things.

  I’ve seen him a few times since the day he drove me to school, mostly in passing, and I waved and smiled each time, although we never approached each other. I figure those waves let me keep my distance without being unfriendly. But now he’s here, at the house, and there’s no way I can avoid him. Maybe this is for the best. It sure seems like our parents get along, so I’ll probably see more of him anyway. I’ll just put on a smile and try to forget that he plays football. Maybe if he isn’t in a uniform or with a team, I can forget that, at least for my mom’s sake.

  “Hi, Jen,” he calls as we approach, “Sawyer.” He nods at me before turning back to my mom. “Are you ready to put this beauty on the market?”

  “I’m so excited!” my mom squeals. “This house turned out so much better than I ever could have imagined. Thank you.” She gives Wes a huge bear hug. “Where are the rest of the guys? I have to thank them to.”

  “They’ll be here shortly. We had a workout this morning, so they’re just moving a little slow.”

  And there went my plan to forget about him playing football. Actually, I can’t see how that would’ve worked anyway. The guy is built like a football player, from the broad shoulders to the sculpted arms to the sinuous calves on his legs. I’d never be able to forget how he got a body like that.

  “Sawyer, why don’t you help Wes with some of the touch-up paint inside? I have to make sure the arbor is ready because we have to move it out of the garage tonight.”

  “Sure, Mom.”

  I follow Wes inside and look around. I have to admit, the house does look great. From what I understand, he and his friends did most of the work, and even though they’re only a few years older than me, they really did a professional job.

  “This looks nice,” I volunteer, doing my best to be polite for Mom’s sake.

  “You don’t sound surprised.” He regards me warily.

  “Am I supposed to be?”

  “I had the impression you wouldn’t expect me to do a good job.”

  “I never said that. In fact, I’m pretty sure the last time I saw you, I told you how nice everything looked,” I remind him, curious why he s
eems to be so touchy.

  Wes hands me a paintbrush and directs me to the living room where the baseboards need another coat of paint.

  “You’re not afraid giving me a compliment would make me feel even more superior?” Ah, now I see where this is going.

  “Oh, come on. I didn’t say you were superior, just that people think football is. If I had known you were so sensitive, I wouldn’t have said anything at all.” I grab a paint can and coat my brush.

  “I’m not sensitive. I just don’t appreciate being disliked for no apparent reason.”

  “I don’t dislike you."

  “You don’t like me, either.” Wes starts painting his own section of the room.

  “Okay, fine. I don’t know what to think about you.” I turn away from him and start painting.

  “Why? We seemed to get along okay when we first met.”

  “We did. And I liked you.”

  “But?” He turns to look at me.

  “But then you said you played football.”

  “That’s a bad thing?”

  “In my experience, yes.”

  “What’s your experience?”

  “More than yours,” I mutter.

  “I doubt it,” he scoffs as he turns back to the wall.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him. “You’re too naïve.”

  “Are you for real?” He turns to face me. “I’m the one who plays football, and I don’t know what I’m talking about? Football is the best thing that happened to me. It got me past the death of my mom and gave me a bunch of teammates who are like family. How can that possibly be bad?”

  “Because it blinds you to everything else, so that the game and the money and the groupies take priority over everything and everyone else, including your daughter.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them, my hatred of the game and everything it’s done to my dad taking over my voice.

  Wes stands absolutely frozen, staring at me. “That happened to you?” he asks softly. I nod curtly. “Okay. I get it,” he says. “I don’t think it’s fair, and I hope you can separate me from your dad because I’m not like that, but I get it.”

  “He’s like you, though. He found purpose in the game, and nothing else mattered.”

  “He’s not like me,” Wes insists. “I didn’t find purpose in the game. I found me.”

  “I don’t get it.” I shake my head.

  Wes sets his brush down and steps closer to me. “It’s like, well, football pushes me to never give up. I wouldn't know what I'm capable of if I didn't learn to work hard on the field. And it taught me how to be part of a team and to do my best for them, not just for me. My dad tried, but he was kinda out of it for a while, and if I didn’t have football, I’d probably be lonely, depressed, and insecure, like he was for years. And one day when I can’t play anymore, I’ll definitely miss it, but it will have taught me other ways to survive and be happy.”

  “You get all that just from a game?” I gape at him.

  “I get all that from having to grow up way too early. It puts lots of things in perspective.” He exhales heavily.

  “Yeah, it does,” I admit, feeling a little bad I’ve never once considered that what I see as a cancer for my dad could be a lifeline to someone like Wes.

  “So can we call a truce?” he asks.

  “You’re not asking me to like football, are you?” I regard him skeptically.

  “Nope. Just me. Or at least, don’t dislike me on principle.”

  “Okay.” I nod. “I can do that.”

  Wes smiles, and damn if that doesn’t make my heart skip. He really is impressive to look at, especially when he smiles, and if I’m going to have to see more of him because of our parents, I’m going to have to learn to curb my reactions to him.

  We work companionably for the next hour, giving all the rooms a touch-up as needed until they’re ready to show off at the open house tomorrow. Now that we’ve moved past our initial hiccup, we chat effortlessly. Wes again offers to help me with my driving hours, and I offer to run with him, since it’s part of his training but a part he hates. We’re just finishing up when the rest of his crew shows up, all laughing and snickering.

  Wes introduces me to them briefly before one, Ryan I think, says, “Dude, you have to check out this video Will found online. Craziest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  They all huddle around his phone while Ryan hits play, and I notice Wes’s face go pale before he fakes a laugh and says, “Where did you find that?”

  “Where do you think?” Ryan rolls his eyes. “But I gotta admit, this one looks more authentic than the cheesy, scripted stuff you usually find on those sites.”

  “Want to see?” Will gestures to me.

  Curious, I step toward the group and leaned in to peek at the phone, getting a quick glimpse at the screen before Wes pulls me to his chest and scolds his friends. “What would Jen say if she knew we showed this to her daughter?” The guys immediately apologize and scramble to turn off the phone, thinking Wes spared them from making a mistake. But he knows full well I got a glimpse of exactly what they’re looking at.

  I stay tucked into Wes as he explains that we’re actually ahead of schedule and the guys can go home early. He releases me after they say goodbye and leave by the front door.

  “What was that for? It’s not like I’ve never seen videos with naked people.”

  “Not like this you haven’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  He takes a deep breath before speaking. “Because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t your mom in those videos.”

  “My mom?” I frown.

  “And my dad.”

  “What? You’re not making any sense. You couldn’t make out any faces in that video.”

  “True, but when they were finished, your mom put on the same orange tank top she’s wearing today.”

  All the air drains from my lungs. Wes pulls me to him, sensing my unsteadiness.

  “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

  “You recognized her shirt?”

  “That and the spot where the video was taken. My dad’s friend owns that land. We hang out there a lot.”

  “Will they recognize it?” He knows I’m referring to the guys.

  “She hasn’t worn it here before, so probably not.”

  I cling to Wes, as if this will all go away if I don’t look up.

  “What do you want to do?” he asks as he strokes my hair.

  “I don’t know. I can't look at my mom right now.” I let out a shaky breath.

  “It’s embarrassing for me, too, but you can’t tell me you’re surprised they’re sleeping together.”

  “It’s not that,” I say. “All my life, my dad has burned through one girlfriend after another. They’re barely older than I am. And all my classmates know it. It’s funny to them. You can’t possibly understand how uncomfortable it is to have your friends talking about your dad’s sex-capades. Now there’s just one more thing for them to laugh at. I can’t believe my mom would be so careless.”

  Wes pulls away and holds my face in his hands. “Hey, first off, I don’t think anyone can tell who it was. And if they can, my dad was in there, too. We’ll both face the rumors together, okay?”

  I nod. “I’m still not sure I can look at her yet. Can you take me home?”

  “Yeah, hang on a quick sec.” He pulls out his phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sending this to my dad and telling him to get here right away. We’ll let them figure it out. I’m also telling him that I took you home so your mom doesn’t worry.”

  “Thanks.” I sniff. Apparently, Wes isn’t the only person I’d misjudged today. My own mom is actually top of the list.

  Chapter 22

  Jen

  “This is a nice surprise. What are you doing here?” I ask Anthony as he hurries into the garage and comes straight for me, pulling me in for a hug. He releases me and studies my face. “You don
’t know?”

  “Know what?” I ask, just then realizing that the look he’s wearing is one of worry, not happiness. “What’s wrong?”

  Anthony rubs his jaw absently then looks at me with the most pained expression I’ve ever seen. “There’s a video. Of you and me. From the hike. Wes sent it to me and told me to get over here.”

  “A video? Of us? What were…” My heart stops. “Of us?” I whisper.

  “Yes. It’s distant and hard to make out faces, but you’re wearing that top.” He points at my tank.

  “No.” I shake my head in disbelief, my heart hammering so loud it echoes in my brain.

  Anthony takes my hands in his. “Like I said, that shirt is really the only way you can tell it’s us. I’m going to talk to Jason. He owns the property, and he’s a lawyer. Whoever took it would have been trespassing, so Jason will get it down.”

  “Get it down? Where is it?” My chest feels too tight, and my stomach plummets.

  Anthony takes a deep breath. “Some porn site. People post homemade…you know.”

  “What? Oh my God, Anthony. And it’s just up there for anyone to see?”

  “You can’t tell it’s us,” he repeats.

  “Wes did.” I choke back a sob.

  “Only because of the shirt. If you weren’t wearing it today, I doubt he’d have realized it.”

  “How did he find it?”

  “Ryan showed it to him.”

  “Oh God. He’s seen it, too?” I feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I sniff, trying to keep the panic at bay.

  “He didn’t know it was us. Wes told them all we were ahead of schedule and sent them home before they got a chance to see you wearing that. They never put it together.”

  “Oh my God. Sawyer! Does she know?”

  “Yes.” Anthony sighs, and I feel my knees give out. I slump into Anthony, and he lowers me to the floor of the garage, cradling me in his lap.

  “I have to talk to her.” I try to get up, but Anthony holds firm.

  “Wes took her home. He’ll look after her. Right now, I just need to make sure you’re okay.”