Fly Boy: A Friends to Lovers Standalone Romance (Tobin Tribe Book 2)

by Caitlyn Coakley

  The brothers cringed. “Megan’s hot,” Riley said. “But I’m not sure I’d want you for a brother-in-law.”

  “Oh, yeah, Mr. Smarty-Pants News Reader? I married Stephanie. I think you already are.”

  CHAPTER 30

  BJ popped the top of a fresh beer. “It’s good to have parties here again. This always was party central.”

  The Kerrigans and Tobins had been celebrating Labor Day around this pool for as long as BJ could remember. Except for last year, when the pain and shock of Uncle Jamie’s and Aunt Rosemary’s deaths had been too fresh and raw.

  Ethan reminded BJ of Uncle Jamie, a man of imposing stature, keen intelligence, and a deep, unwavering love for Steppie. Ethan was a much better match for his fiery almost-sister than Smitty ever was or could ever have hoped to be. As much as the rest of the world still viewed Ethan Webb as the king of all assholes, BJ was grateful Steppie had found her soulmate. Hell, he was almost jealous.

  “Where do you think I first got drunk and lost my virginity?” Quinn asked.

  “Same place we all did,” Riley answered. “The sunroom. God, I love that sunroom.”

  Like that was front-page news. It was probably the most private place the dude had ever had sex. And probably the most public place BJ had ever done the deed.

  “It seems weird not to have Uncle Jamie and Aunt Rosemary around.” Shane sounded sad, almost weary. He looked down at his feet. It’s what his brother did to hide his emotions.

  Uncle Jamie, Steppie’s dad, had always had a soft spot for Shane. Probably because BS had always been so hard on the kid, practically since the day he’d been born. Was that the kid’s problem? Daddy hadn’t loved him enough? Which was strange because the old man had no problems showing his love and affection for the rest of them.

  That little revelation nearly knocked the wind out of him. As much as he’d joked about it, it really must suck to be Shane.

  A wave of pity struck BJ as he put a comforting hand on Shane’s shoulder. “Yeah, baby brother, I miss them too. We all do. It’s still hard to believe Miss Irene killed them to get control of Kerrigan Financial. If that had happened, her asshole of a grandson would have run the company into the ground, and we’d all be broke. May they both burn in hell.”

  Shane grasped BJ’s hand for a moment, then turned to retrieve another beer from the cooler. From Shane, that was as close to a hug as it got. “Uncle Jamie loved to party. The best way to honor his memory is to dedicate this little soiree to him.” Shane raised his can. “To Uncle Jamie.”

  His brothers all raised their drinks with a rousing chorus of “Hear! Hear!”

  Yep, legendary parties where no one checked IDs or cared what your poison of choice was. How many times had BJ come to on a sofa or the floor? Too many to count.

  “The NFL season starts Thursday,” Quinn reminded everyone. “If the pre-reality games had counted, Megan would have kicked all of our asses.”

  Like BJ needed reminding. “So who would have come in second?” he asked. He knew, but making Quinn admit he was perpetually stuck in second place never got old.

  Quinn flipped him off. “Asshole.”

  What his brother lacked in creativity, he more than made up for with consistency.

  BJ shifted slightly to his left to get a good view of Megan and Steppie as they lounged in the shade nursing their babies. What he wouldn’t give to be the head under the beach towel that protected Megan’s modesty, drawing comfort and nourishment from her; preparing her to accept his passion. And he didn’t care it was the middle of the afternoon in plain sight. Did that mean Riley wasn’t the only perv in the family?

  His favorite pair of Aviators shielded his eyes from the glare of the pool and hid his stare from Megan. He dipped the bill of his baseball cap to help disguise his gaze.

  Intellectually, he knew there was nothing sexual about a woman using her breasts for their biologically intended purpose, but try convincing his dick. That part of him had never listened to his brain before and wasn’t about to start now. If history was any indication, BJ wasn’t sure one knew the other existed.

  But the longer he watched, the less aroused he became until his lust faded into nothing. This was Megan and Pete. Steppie and Kegan. People who meant something special to him. Sure, he wanted Megan in his bed. Or her bed. Or any bed for that matter, but he also wanted more. More football, more kisses, even more arguments. He wanted more of everything with her.

  The ladies in the shade laughed, at what, he had no idea, but the what didn’t matter. He picked Megan’s sweet laugh out of the cacophony, and for some unknown reason, it made him want to laugh too. BJ had always considered himself a happy guy, but her happiness sent his mood into the stratosphere faster than his helicopter could.

  What made her laugh? What made her want to sing or dance? What made Megan...Megan? He wanted to know everything about her. And share parts of himself that no one else knew.

  And for the first time in forever, he didn’t want to drown the notion or climb into the cockpit and outrun the feeling at 150 miles an hour.

  * * *

  A prematurely scarlet leaf drifted down from the sugar maple tree protecting them from the sun while Megan and Stephanie nursed their babies. Not that Pete was a baby anymore.

  Megan plucked the leaf from the beach towel covering her son’s head. The day was an unseasonably warm ninety-seven degrees, but there was a slight undercurrent that foretold of the inevitable changes lurking just around the corner.

  If rainbows signified a new beginning, did the turning leaves mean the end? But the end of what? Pete’s babyhood? Or the end of her widowhood? One thing she knew as well as she knew her own name, she was quickly nearing the end of her ability to fight her feelings for BJ which had practically taken on a life of their own, pushing out every scrap of reason, every ounce of control, every bit of strength at her disposal.

  She had survived a mother who had abandoned her the day she’d been born. Endured the neglect and abuse of a parade of foster homes. Withstood the grief of losing Smitty and the shame of her involuntary commitment to a mental hospital. But persevering against the tsunami of emotions and desires BJ stirred in her? Well, that might be her undoing. It was getting more and more difficult to maintain her shields, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. It was exhausting.

  “How long are you going to continue to nurse?” Stephanie asked.

  Megan shrugged. “I should’ve stopped months ago, but he’s all I have. After my little vacation, I worked hard to get him to give up the bottle and breastfeed again. I missed so much those first few weeks; I want to keep him a baby as long as I can. I’ve read articles online that say some babies are content to nurse for years. I’ll do it until he decides to stop.”

  Stephanie stroked Kegan’s face. “But your nipples are a mess, you’re covered in bruises and scratches. Plus, he has teeth now. It has to hurt like hell.”

  “It does, but he likes it.” Megan winced as Pete suddenly decided to use those teeth. “No biting, sweetheart. That hurts mommy.”

  Another thing that hurt? Her less than perfect relationship with Stephanie. It impacted Ethan and would affect any future she might have with BJ. She had rejected every one of the peace offerings Stephanie had extended. It was time for her to make the first move. She hugged Pete a little tighter and took a deep breath to draw in his pure essence.

  It was now or never.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch. I know everything was Smitty’s fault. I know you were hurt as badly as I was. I’ve never had a sister. I’d like for us to be sisters if that’s still possible.”

  Well, that wasn’t so bad. Megan held her breath awaiting Stephanie’s response.

  “Oh, thank God!” Tears glistened in Stephanie’s eyes. “Ethan made me realize you weren’t the homewrecking, gold-digging bimbo I once accused you of being. That you were as much of a victim as I was. I knew I couldn’t push you too hard, but I have waited for you to say that since you first move
d into this house. I would be honored to call you not just my sister-in-law, but my sister.”

  “I’m putting the burgers on!” Ethan bellowed from the grill.

  Megan rolled her eyes. “My brother has always had rotten timing.”

  Stephanie and Megan shared their first genuine laugh as sisters and friends.

  Pete finished nursing; Megan rubbed him with sunscreen, secured sunglass goggles, and tied the strings of his sun hat under his chubby little chin. Finally, she slid him into a Superman life jacket. She had no intention of taking her eyes off him, but the minute she set him down, he raced toward the knot of Tobin brothers a few feet away. Her little runner was so fast, she didn’t have a chance to warn them.

  CHAPTER 31

  BJ felt it before he heard it. The perfectly placed tackle nearly knocked him on his ass as he struggled to save his beer. A man had to have his priorities.

  “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Pete gurgled as he wrapped his little sausage arms around BJ’s knees. “Hecka, hecka, hecka,” he babbled.

  Again with this daddy shit? He had to figure out a way to get back at Steppie without pissing off Ethan.

  If BJ was lucky, the earth would open right now and swallow him whole.

  It didn’t.

  Instead, his brothers convulsed in guffaws, chuckles, cackles, and howls. He was never going to hear the end of this one. Suddenly, the infamous condom flushing incident faded into insignificance.

  “Daddy, daddy, daddy! Hecka, hecka, hecka!” They mocked. They were so loud, he could barely pick out Quinn’s obnoxious voice. That chorus was going to ring in his ears for hours. Possibly longer. Way longer. This was going to be worse than he thought.

  BJ reached out and punched Knox, the closest target, hard in the arm. Knox punched back harder, sending BJ backward into the pool.

  BJ popped through the water’s surface in seconds and desperately searched the deck for Pete. Thank God he was safely nestled in Shane’s arms. Insane Shane’s I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude clashed sharply with his obvious role as savior as he whinnied every time Pete pulled on that ridiculous ponytail of his. Shane deftly galloped away from the pool to keep Pete occupied. When the hell had the big baby grown up? Had BJ misjudged his brother? Maybe. But there was no doubt BJ owed him a huge debt of gratitude. Losing Pete would have devastated their mother. Not to mention Ethan, Steppie, and Megan. And him.

  He might not have a beef with Shane, at the moment, but his next youngest brother had some serious shit coming his way. “God damn it, Knox! I had my new phone in my pocket. You’re buying me a new one!”

  This time his faux-innocent “Did I do that?” wouldn’t work. BJ was determined to get the last laugh. But no one was laughing. Or smiling. Everyone stared, their faces frozen in terror.

  What the hell? He scanned the crowd. All present and accounted for. Except for Megan. She thrashed in the middle of the pool where she’d landed.

  He momentarily froze himself.

  Ethan looked frantically for some way to hand off the baby Steppie had handed him moments before, but there was no one near him. “Megan can’t swim!” he yelled.

  Acting on pure instinct, BJ made two powerful strokes and grabbed her. “Relax, I got ya. Don’t fight me. Swimming was one of the few sports I was allowed to do. I can tread water without using my hands for as long as I have to. As long as it takes, I’ll be here. Shhh. Calm.” He wrapped his arms around her and continued slow, powerful underwater kicks.

  A panicked Megan continued to thrash.

  He whispered softly into her ear, “Stand up; you can stand up. Feet on the bottom. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you. I will never let anything happen to you.” Hell, that sounded like another promise. And all he could say to that was, “Damn straight.”

  Whimpering and gasping for air, Megan put her arms around him.

  BJ tightened his hold. “Breathe normally, you’re going to hyperventilate.” He slowly and gently ran one hand up and down her back while continuing to hold her with the other, barely swaying back and forth, listening as her breathing became more ragged as her panic increased.

  “Have you ever had a panic attack?”

  “Yes, a bunch,” she gasped out.

  “Did they go away?”

  She started sobbing.

  “Yeah, they did, didn’t they? This one will too. Stay with me, Megan. I’ll be right here for as long as it takes. Shane is playing horsie with Pete like he did at the baptism, so your baby is safe. Nobody is in danger. No one is going to die.”

  He angled in for a kiss. His tongue jabbed at her lips as she opened. Gently, he pinched her nose and breathed into her mouth as he explored her. He’d seen it in one of those stupid rom-com movies a former girlfriend had dragged him to. He didn’t know if it worked, but it was worth a shot. Plus, he was kissing her.

  As her breathing slowed, he moved his hand to her head, brushing back her wet hair and pulled her head to his shoulder, nestling it under his cheek. “Better?”

  * * *

  Incrementally, his words penetrated her foggy brain. Pete was safe. No one was going to die. She wasn’t stranded in the middle of a busy street as indignant drivers swerved to avoid her and Pete. Instead of angry horns, she heard the calm, steady beat of BJ’s heart. She burrowed into his neck. Better? More like heavenly. But Megan couldn’t form the words to express what she was feeling.

  BJ moved to help her to the side of the pool, but she balked. She needed a few more seconds in his arms then she would be fine. “No, please, hold me a little longer. My knees still feel wobbly; I don’t think I can stand on my own yet. This feels so good. I feel so safe. I’m sorry.” And she was sorry. Sorry that she couldn’t stay in his arms for hours.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. This is all on me. I pushed you in; pulling you out is the least I can do. And this,” he pulled her closer, “this is my reward. Remember, cuddling is one of the c-words I’m very good at. My arms are available anytime you need them.” BJ put his lips to her ear and started to sing. “You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I’ll come runnin’ to see you again.”

  Had she thought his voice was merely amazing? If that wasn’t the dictionary definition of being damned with faint praise, she didn’t know what was. “Mmm, James Taylor. That’s an oldie but goodie. I guess we can add crooning to your list of c-words. I could stay here forever and listen to you sing, but I think I can stand on my own now.”

  Not that she wanted to, but if she didn’t pull away right this instant, she would never be able to. She might be falling irrevocably in love with him, but would he feel the same? No. She wasn’t someone he could love; she was someone to be conquered before moving on. If that happened, they might as well send her back to the hospital and throw away the key.

  “I think I’m going to do a few laps until what I’m thinking isn’t obvious to everyone here.” BJ moved slightly and leaned into her to let her know how she affected him.

  Megan sighed. “I almost remember what that feels like.”

  “If you need a refresher course, remember the song.”

  “But you’re a friend. Without benefits. Take your laps, soldier.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Driving through the neighborhood was like traveling back in time. The neat, craftsman style houses had each been modified and expanded over the years, but BJ was sure if he closed his eyes for a moment, when he opened them again, he’d see shiny new Hudsons and Studebakers parked along the tree-lined streets. Okay, twig-lined streets that would become tree-lined streets. Children would be playing hopscotch on the sidewalk while strains of Perry Como and Tony Bennett floated from the open windows of houses still decades away from central air conditioning.

  Everything was so different from the glass and concrete apartments and condos his other girlfriends had called home, but that didn’t surprise him because Megan herself was so different from anyone he had ever known that she didn’t belong in the same class as the others.
And he had to find a way to convince her that was a good thing.

  Because it was. It was a very good thing. The best thing. She was the perfect blend of every woman he’d ever loved. The grandmothers who indulged but demanded proper behavior. The warm, loving mother who encouraged and nurtured. But best of all, the hotness of every woman he’d ever dated, all rolled into a sweet, smart, sexy woman. Yep, he was pretty sure love was exactly the right word. He let that word roll around in his head. It bumped into very few other names.

  He pulled into the driveway of a charming bungalow. The wide porch boasted two white wicker rocking chairs and a low bistro table. Hanging baskets of cascading petunias in white and purple hung every few feet. Colorful bowls of mixed annuals stood on the newel posts, inviting neighbors to climb the stairs for a visit. A garden of neatly trimmed rose bushes lined the foundation of the porch with an explosion of color and aroma.

  I’m glad I decided on wine. Bringing her flowers would have been redundant. He bounded up the stairs, knocked on the screen door, and waited.

  “There’s my knight in shining armor!” She let him in, accepted the wine, and greeted him with a cordial hug and chaste kiss on the cheek.

  He let his hand linger before giving up the bottle. “All I did was pull you out of the pool that I had shoved you into. I’m not a hero.” But the notion that she might think he was gave him pause. Since an early age, he’d heard nearly every compliment a woman can give a man, but no one had ever called him their knight. If anyone other than Megan had accused him of that, he would have peeled out so fast he would have left skid marks halfway down the block. Without his car.

  But over the past three days, memories of her thrashing in the pool had assaulted him at odd times. The idea that he might have lost her sent waves of panic through him that had matched the panic he’d seen on her face that day.

  Now, he was the one in danger of drowning.

  She poured him a glass, handed it to him, and led him to the back porch. “Welcome to my little patch of heaven.”