So sexy it practically hurt.
He was tall, well over six feet two inches—I knew this based off of looking up at him. The same crick that was in my neck when I looked at my ex, was also present when I looked at Baylor. My guess was that he was at least six foot three or more based on my increased level of crickiness.
He had brown hair that was shaved on the sides, and a little longer than finger length on top.
He’d cut it.
My heart almost broke.
Those curling ends had been adorable when he’d repossessed my car.
My mind wandered to who cut his hair. Which woman got the privilege of sifting her fingers through the hair that looked so freakin’ soft.
I wondered if she kept his hair as a memento until the next time he came in.
I used to cut my friend’s hair like that…I could totally cut his if he wanted.
I winced and looked away from the man that had the power to make my mind stray to the most indecent things.
My eyes went back to the dashboard, and I prayed before I tried to start it again.
This time instead of the non-sound it had made previously, it made an awful grinding, choking, backfire kind of sound before going silent once more.
Immediately I looked up, hoping that the noise hadn’t garnered any attention, but I was let down when I caught the curious brown eyes on me.
I cringed.
“Shit,” I said to my windshield. “Shit, shit, shit.”
The next time I looked in his direction, he was crossing the street and coming in my direction.
And honestly, it really wouldn’t have been that bad. Really, it wouldn’t have.
I think he was just trying to help.
However, as I got out of the car and stood up, I felt the button of my shorts pop.
And where did that button land?
On his dick.
It shot off of my shorts like I’d catapulted it from a slingshot.
One second he was walking toward me, and the next he was on the ground rolling around in the middle of the street.
I gasped and started for him, leaning over him awkwardly. “Are you okay?”
He moaned.
I touched his shoulder, and he flinched away from me.
“I’m so sorry!” I cried. “I don’t know what happened.”
Well, I knew exactly what happened.
The shorts I happened to be wearing were ones that I had to lie down on my bed to button, and since I was determined to wear them, I’d done something I obviously shouldn’t have.
I’d sucked my gut in, held my breath, and then buttoned the suckers closed.
When I’d used the restroom earlier this morning, I’d had to lean way back on the toilet after I’d pulled them up over my hips to button them. It was so difficult to do that my left thumb was still throbbing from how hard I’d had to work.
And apparently, my button had given up the ghost, so to speak.
“Did you throw something at me?” he gasped.
I shook my head. “No, I think it was my button.”
He cracked open one eye, clearly showing me his agony, and groaned.
“You’re shitting me.”
I shook my head frantically. “No, no shit. It really was my button.”
His eye skated down the length of my body, stopping on my shorts, which were now gaping open and showing off my underwear.
My period underwear that was decorated with a killer unicorn that was scratched and bleeding, holding a bazooka.
Immediately a wave of mortification stole over me.
“Is that a unicorn?” he wheezed, squinting his one open eye.
I nodded, looking away.
Except when I looked away, it was to see his hand cupping his balls, which then pressed the head of his cock even higher.
Was he hard? Surely, he was hard. Otherwise, I might be freaking out a little bit.
Someone that big when flaccid had to be an anomaly, right?
I quickly looked away and stood up, then offered my hand to him.
He let go of his balls with one hand and took the offered hand.
“Thanks,” he muttered, sounding breathless.
I winced again.
Then my eyes caught on the button of my shorts.
I walked forward a few paces, then bent over to pick up the blinged out button.
It was brass in the middle, but the edges were lined with tiny crystals, which also contributed to the bruising on my fingers.
When I turned back around it was to find him staring down the gap in his pants with a worried expression.
“Uhhh,” I hesitated. “Is everything okay with it?”
He looked up at me, down at my period panties that were still on display for everyone and their brother to see, then back at what was in his pants.
“I think one of my balls is swollen,” he said. “Can you look?”
I started laughing and shook my head, unsure whether or not he was joking or not.
“I don’t have that kind of medical experience.” I waved him off. “You’ll have to go to the clinic in town for that.”
“You have medical experience?” he questioned. “Surely it’s enough to tell me whether I should go have this looked at.”
I instantly winced inwardly. Shit!
“Uhh, no,” I shook my head. “A couple of classes doesn’t mean medical experience of all kinds,” I told him. “And anyway, there’s a clinic just down the road that is free for most clients that have insurance. You’d be better off going in there to get your ball inspected.”
He chuckled as he gingerly dropped his waistband back into place against his lower abdomen.
A very taut abdomen that I could tell was rippled to precision, perfectly defined, and was decorated with beautiful tattoos. Tattoos that started around his hip bones, and disappeared straight down into his fucking pants.
Goddammit!
I looked away from that belly into his amused eyes.
“Car won’t start?”
He looked at the car in question.
“No.” I sighed.
“That’s Krisney’s car?”
I nodded. “How’d you know?”
“Car screams Krisney.” He walked toward it and gestured for me to open the hood. “Pop it and let me take a look.”
I did, bending into the car and searching for the hood release.
After finding it I stood up and turned, only to find him staring at my ass.
“Why you driving Krisney’s car and not yours?”
I grimaced. “Seemed easier to sell that car. I was having a lot of problems with it anyway.”
Lies.
I was having trouble paying the note. It seemed way easier to just let it go back. But he didn’t need to know all of the details.
“I can’t find any fault in your shorts,” he said.
Then he opened the hood, blocking me from his view.
I looked up at the lightening sky and counted to ten.
Men were bad news. Bad, bad, bad.
They were trouble, too, and I’ve had enough trouble to carry me straight into my forties.
“How about my car?” I asked, moving around the hood to be closer to him.
“This car practically has a permanent stall at Hail,” he said. “I think Krisney spent more time driving a rental than this car. She should’ve told you that before she gave it to you.”
She did.
“She did,” I repeated my thoughts. “She said, and I quote, ‘I have a car that’s a piece of shit and likes to break down at the drop of a hat. It’s sitting in my driveway at home because it has sentimental value instead of in a junkyard where it belongs. Feel free to use it. If it breaks down, have it towed to Hail.’”
He snorted.
“Reed helped her buy the car.”
I looked at him blankly.
“Reed’s my brother.”
“Oh,” I said. “Cool.”
He grinned. “You haven’t heard that story?”
“What story?”
“The tale of Reed and Krisney.”
I looked at him blankly.
“Give it time,” he said. “You will. They’re like the town love story that wasn’t supposed to fail but did.”
I winced.
“Yeah, Krisney does have that brokenhearted vibe about her,” I amended, thinking about how heartbroken she’d looked when she saw me get into the car and drive off. “She let me borrow the car, but made sure to tell me that if I dented it, then I’d be paying for it to be fixed.”
With what money, I didn’t know, but I knew that I would break my back if I had to, just so I wouldn’t see that horror-stricken look in her eyes when she thought about her baby being hurt.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” he muttered, closing the hood. “I have to take that car in right there, and then I’ll come back for this one. You want a ride somewhere?”
I thought about that and then shook my head. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded. “I’m working at the Taco Shop, and I can get someone to give me a ride home.”
“What about your shorts?”
I looked down at said shorts and shrugged. “There’s a safety pin at the shop. I’ll use it for now.”
He grunted. “Just promise me something.”
He reached for my hand where I still had the button of my shorts enfolded in it and spread my fingers.
“What?” I asked a tad bit more breathlessly than I probably should have.
It wouldn’t do for him to know that he affected me in any way.
“Promise me that you’ll get those shorts repaired. If you can’t afford it, I’ll gladly put up the money for you to get them fixed.”
I snorted, but it took only moments for his serious face to penetrate through my apparent hilarity.
“You’re serious.”
He nodded once.
“I…”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
Surely, he was joking.
Right?
Wrong.
With one last glance at my legs, he walked back to the car he’d backed up to, loaded it up onto the rig, and took off within five minutes.
He looked at me and my jean shorts no less than five times.
Holy shit.
Chapter 6
Here’s to nipples. Without them, titties would be pointless.
-T-shirt
Baylor
The next day, I walked into Travis’ place and pounded on the door.
“Yo,” my brother said as he opened it almost immediately.
He looked like he’d just woken up, and I found pleasure in knowing that I’d been the one to pull him from his bed like he’d done to me so many times over the last few weeks when there was a call out in the middle of the night.
“What are you doing?” I asked, limping inside.
He frowned when he looked at me. “Your knee hurting you?”
I shook my head. “No, my ball.”
“Why?” he asked as he shut the door behind me.
Not ‘you’re joking’ or ‘you’re funny’ but ‘why?’ Because he knew that I didn’t bullshit around.
“I was checking on this girl whose car wouldn’t start, and when she stood up out of her car, the button on her jean shorts popped off and shot me straight in the ball. My favorite left one.”
“You have a favorite ball?”
That was Hannah, my sister-in-law, who’d asked that.
I nodded my head. “I do. It’s the one that’s closest to my heart.”
It was the truth.
She snorted and walked to the coffee maker. “You want something to drink?”
I nodded my head but grunted out a yes as I walked to the bar and daintily took a seat.
“Why are you here so fucking early?” Travis asked as he scratched his stomach.
I grinned. “I wanted your medical professional of a wife to look at my ball and tell me if I should be concerned with the swelling or not.”
Travis just looked at me.
“I’m not a doctor, Baylor,” Hannah said. “If you want my medical opinion, it would be to go see a doctor who knows more about balls than I do.”
I started to chuckle as I pulled my sweatpants away from my belly and looked down at the boys.
“I couldn’t even run this morning,” I said. “I had to walk the two miles over here instead.”
“Did you take some Midol?” Travis cajoled.
I flipped him off.
“That actually might help,” Hannah agreed. “But honestly, you’d get the same results taking ibuprofen.”
I grimaced.
I despised taking medicines, even over-the-counter ones like Tylenol and Motrin.
When I’d been in my accident, I’d become somewhat reliant on pain medication and had proceeded to scare the absolute shit out of myself one too many times.
Ever since, I’d stayed well away from anything that came in pill form.
Which sometimes hindered me more than it helped me.
“I will if I can’t get this under control by tomorrow,” I conceded.
“You’re not going to visit Pongo?” Travis asked, looking concerned.
I grimaced. “Not today, no. I don’t think I can make it that far on foot.”
Well, I could quite possibly make it that far, but I wouldn’t be able to make it back.
Being sneaky wasn’t so easy at times when you couldn’t drive over there.
I’d tried it once, but since the place I was jogging to was normally accessed by going through the woods to avoid being seen by any security cameras, it meant that to access it by car I would be seen.
And I didn’t want to be seen, which also meant that I couldn’t go see Pongo today.
Pongo being a dog that my ex had won in our breakup. My ex being the US Military.
The one bright side of the day was the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about.
My ball hurt, which meant I kept thinking about how it was hurt.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her and her unicorn warrior panties.
Which happened to be why I missed my sister-in-law’s question.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked once my brother kicked my chair to get my attention.
“Did you hear from Dante yesterday like we did?”
I frowned.
“No. What did he have to say?”
Dante was my brother. A brother who was buried so deep in his grief that it took an act of presidential decree to get him to acknowledge that there were other people on this planet besides himself.
Though, I knew his grief was warranted.
But he wasn’t the only one feeling it.
My brother’s family—his two children and his wife—had gone with my sister home from a family event. On the way home, my sister had been in a car accident that had taken the life of my brother’s wife and children.
My sister had been intoxicated. She’d been high on pills, and, it was determined later, that they had been the cause of her overreaction that had caused her to wreck.
My sister had then taken her life weeks later.
Since then, Dante had been absent from our lives.
Until now, apparently.
“Our brother called him,” Travis rumbled.
“Which brother?” I asked.
I had five, after all. There’d been five brothers and two sisters.
Two sisters had died.
One in a home invasion and the other when she took her own life.
Now it was just us boys.
“Fender.”
I snickered at Travis’ use of ‘Fender.’
Fender was actually Tobias. Tobias had joined an MC—a motorcycle club—named the Dixie Wardens.
Though he m
ay be hours away, he was more present in our lives than Dante was, wherever the fuck he happened to be.
“Okay,” I drawled.
“Dante is finally acknowledging that he has a kid.”
“And he was ecstatic?”
Travis shook his head.
“Yep. I could hear his excitement over the airwaves.” He popped his ‘p.’ “You heard me right. Tobias called Dante to tell him that he found confirmation that he had a kid. Dante called to tell me to walk across the street and confirm this ‘confirmation.’ Except the girl that used to live there doesn’t live there anymore. Which I conveyed to him.”
My mouth fell open in shock.
“Dante would never…”
I was about to say have sex with Travis’ neighbor, because, if I was thinking about the right woman, he would’ve never. At least, that was before…now, I didn’t know what he would do.
“Dante did,” Travis said. “He got drunk over here one night. The next thing I know, he’s walking out of her house the next day, looking pissed off at the world.”
I just shook my head in shock.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I repeated my earlier thoughts. “How the hell…”
Travis was just as dumbfounded as I was.
“To make matters worse, he blocked his number so I couldn’t call him back.”
“Holy shit.”
Holy shit was right.
Dante had a kid out there.
Speaking of kids, I looked over to the living room where I’d seen out of the corner of my eye, Travis and Hannah’s child swinging in his swing in the corner of the room.
“Y’all’s kids are going to be close in age.”
Travis grunted. “Less than a year. I don’t really know anything more than that. I tried calling Tobias, but each time I did, he sent it to voicemail. Either he’s at work, or he’s ignoring me.”
“Probably at work,” I muttered absently. “Tobias is pretty good about answering his phone, and he wouldn’t ignore us after telling Dante something like that.”
At least, I hoped not.
My phone in my pocket started ringing. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen, silencing it without answering the call.
“Gotta go,” I muttered as I gingerly stood up. “Got a repo for the bank.”
“Harold?”
I curled my lip. “Harold.”
As I exited their house a couple minutes later, three pieces of bacon in one hand, and a disposable cup of coffee in the other, I came to a sudden halt when I saw the woman outside getting ready to mow her lawn.
What the Hail (The Hail Raisers Book 4) Page 3