The Lemon Sisters

by Jill Shalvis

  “Your manly prowess is intact,” she assured him. “But the railings and trim look amazing.”

  He took it in. “Son of a bitch. The guy can’t mind his own damn business.”

  “I think you are his business,” she said. “Are you telling me he stayed up all night doing this for you before he took off?”

  His gaze slid to hers, and she bit her lower lip to keep a smile in. “You’re wearing the same expression your cats are wearing,” she said.

  “Not my cats. Ann’s cats.”

  “Uh-oh. Are you no longer in the mood?”

  He shouldered opened his bedroom door and set her on his bed. Actually, it was more like tossed her on the bed. She bounced once and then he was on her, pinning her down to the mattress, letting her feel exactly what she did to him. “Okay,” she practically purred, running her hands up his sleek, still damp back. His muscles bunched enticingly. “So you’re still in the mood.”

  “With you, always,” he said, rubbing his jaw to hers like a big cat. A big, feral cat. He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the scar low on her belly, and her heart rolled over for him. Then he rose up and kissed her mouth.

  It was a delicious, sensuous, erotic kiss with a lot of tongue, and heat exploded inside her, simultaneously rushing north to make her nipples happy and south to make the rest of her happy. When his mouth trailed along her throat, she just about lost consciousness. “Kiss me again,” she demanded.

  “Because you need it in twos?”

  “Because I’m going to die if you don’t kiss me again.”

  He flashed a grin, but before he could, there was a thump on his bedroom door.

  “Ignore them,” Garrett said.

  “Them?” she squeaked, trying to sit up.

  Garrett slid his hands around the backs of her thighs and tugged so that she fell flat on her back again. “The cats. They’re jealous of you. I’m their man.”

  She laughed, but it backed up in her throat as his hands began performing his special brand of fire and magic, and then his mouth followed. He liked to kiss, a lot, and he especially liked to take his time about it, which always left her a panting, anticipatory, needy hot mess. “Garrett.”

  Sliding off the bed, he dropped to his knees between her legs. Eyes dark and heated and locked on hers, his hands skimmed the backs of her thighs, his gaze slowly traveled over the length of her body. “Pretty,” he said roughly, and she felt a rush that was nearly an orgasm.

  Then he put his mouth on her, and she was very glad there were only cats in the house, because she couldn’t have kept quiet to save her own life.

  By the time he was finished with her, she was a floppy rag doll, making contented purring noises. “I owe the cats for letting me share you,” she said with a wide yawn, unable to keep her eyes open.

  “Take as much of me as you want,” he murmured. “I’m all yours.”

  She smiled as she drifted off, hoping against hope it might actually be true.

  Chapter 20

  “Skinny-dipping is off the table.”

  By the time Mindy and Linc left the hospital, picked up the kids, and got them fed, bathed, and into bed, Mindy was stick-a-fork-in-her done. She staggered into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Her hair flopped in her face. She was hot and sweaty and wearing her PMS shorts—which were really maternity shorts, but she’d die before admitting that.

  She could hear Linc in the shower. She rolled across their big bed and caught sight of something on his nightstand. The Hawaii tickets, dated for next week. She’d actually completely forgotten about the trip he’d promised her, but the thought of having Linc to herself for days on end made her hope against hope that they really could get away, just the two of them. In one hotel room, with one bed and hopefully no couch . . .

  When he came out of the bathroom wearing only a towel low on his hips, his hair still damp, her mouth watered.

  He smiled at her sprawled on the bed. “Is that an invitation?”

  She snorted and closed her eyes against the ache that the sight of him caused deep inside her. She’d tried seducing him with her favorite lingerie, but once again life had distracted him. Now here she was at her absolute worst, and he was being playful and sexy. “If it was an invite, would you notice?” she asked.

  He set a knee on the bed, eyes dark and heated. “Oh yeah.”

  “You didn’t notice the other night.”

  He crawled up the bed. “Babe, I always notice you.”

  She put a foot to his chest to halt his progress. “What was I wearing?”

  “A hot-as-shit pale peach silky nightie that I wanted to take off with my teeth.”

  A happy shiver bolted through her, and she dropped her foot and closed her eyes. “So why didn’t you?”

  “Because I was busy traumatizing our daughter and stealing her childhood by letting her know that the tooth fairy and Santa Claus weren’t real. Mindy . . .”

  Something in his voice had her eyes flying open. He was giving her an odd look, like he was seeing something for the first time. “You really think I don’t want you anymore?”

  She shrugged. “I mean, I get it.”

  “Do you?” he murmured.

  “Yes, of course!” She tossed up her hands. “I’ve had a bazillion babies. I’m not the young hot chick anymore. I’ve got stretch marks, and I’m cranky because I’m always on a stupid diet because stupid food goes right to my stupid ass now. And, um—” She broke off because he had slowly loosened his towel and tossed it on the floor. “Um . . .” She blinked. “I can’t remember what I was saying.”

  Pulling her beneath him, he shot her a knowing grin. “You’re right, you were the young hot chick. But you’re even hotter now, with a real woman’s body. I love it. I even love your crankiness. And I love you, Mindy.”

  He said it in the same unhesitating tone he reserved for all truths: The night is dark, rain is wet, and Linc loves Mindy.

  “And when I told you I was going to fight for this, for us, I meant it.” He ran his mouth along her jaw to her ear and gave it a light nip with his teeth. “Do you remember our first time?” he asked, voice husky, ignoring her attitude, clearly understanding that she wanted to be seduced, understanding that even that had become her responsibility in the marriage. He let his lips brush just behind her earlobe. It was her favorite spot to be teased, which he knew damn well. “Because I remember it. Kiss me, Min.”

  “I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

  “I don’t care.”

  She knew it was true because he was looking at her like she’d just hung the moon and the stars. For a whole lot of years, she’d felt that at any moment he might realize where he was, and with who, and leave her. But he never had. For whatever reason, Linc wanted her, and she decided she wasn’t about to try to change his mind. But she did want to be clear about one thing. “Perfect Mindy is long gone,” she said. “You know that, right?”

  “I don’t want Perfect Mindy,” he said. “I want Trash Can Mindy.”

  She frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “Do you remember our first kiss?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It was in fourth grade. You kissed me on the playground because Kenny Reddick dared you to. He’d been daring you since second grade, but it took you two years to get serious. I slugged you in the eye and got in trouble.”

  He grinned. “That wasn’t a real kiss. I’m talking about our first real kiss.”

  She remembered that, too. They’d been in ninth grade, and by that point had been in a love-hate relationship for years: She could beat his ass in any track-and-field event, and he could explain biology and chemistry to her in a way she could understand. But nothing had ever happened between them.

  He’d had a growth spurt that year, and suddenly their friendship had taken a turn, at least on her part. She’d started noticing things, like how he laughed, the way he looked at her, the fact that he smelled so good when all the other guys his age did not. And then there’d been his mouth. He
had a great mouth. All her friends had already had their first kisses, and other firsts, too, and she’d had nothing.

  She’d wanted him to kiss her, and when she’d told him so, he’d laughed. She might have killed him right then, but he’d leaned in and, still hugely amused, said that kissing her was all he’d thought about since elementary school.

  That had taken a moment to set in. He hadn’t been laughing at her, but at himself. And all that time he’d wanted to kiss her, too.

  Naturally, that’s when the bell had rung for homeroom. In those days, school had ruined her life on a daily basis. But he’d been waiting for her after school, standing across the parking lot, leaning on a lamppost. She’d locked gazes with him and started walking his way, and then—

  “Halfway to me, you walked into that trash can,” he said.

  Yep. That was exactly what had happened. She’d fallen over and into the trash can.

  “That’s the Mindy I want,” he said. “The one who allowed herself to be human. I don’t want a perfect person as my wife. I just want someone to be silly with, someone who loves being with me more than anything else.”

  “I do,” she said. “That’s why I freaked out about the shop. I want more time with you, not less. And with the shop in my name, I’d be as busy as . . . well, you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her softly, his hands going to her hips to hold her close. “I’m sorry, Mindy. Can we get past this?”

  “I want to,” she said earnestly, “but . . .”

  “But you’re still unsure,” he said as if he understood. “You’ve got built-up resentment. I’ve been a bad boy.” He rolled to his back, bring her along with him so that now she was straddling him. “Do you want to play reverse Fifty Shades on my ass? Would that help?”

  This had her bursting out laughing, because one thing Linc wasn’t—now or ever—was submissive. Smug bastard, smiling up at her. Confident. Sexy. “You know what?” she said. “Yes, I do. I want to tie you up.”

  “Yeah?” His voice was pure sex. “And then what?” His hands slid up and cupped her breasts, teasing them the way only he knew how. “Tell me. Tell me slowly and in great detail.”

  ACROSS THE YARD, Brooke fell asleep in Garrett’s arms and didn’t move from that spot until a phone went off. She felt him reach past her for the cell on his nightstand. She lifted her head in a stupor and realized it was dawn. “What is it?” she asked. “Your dad?”

  “No. A group text from Linc, sent to all of us. It says: Everyone get your asses in the kitchen.”

  “What the hell?”

  When she and Garrett rushed into Linc and Mindy’s kitchen a few minutes later, it was to find breakfast made and waiting.

  “Okay,” Brooke said, confused. “Did I die and go to heaven, or did you guys make up? Because Mindy hasn’t cooked breakfast since she got back, and—”

  “We made up!” Mindy said.

  Brooke stared at her. There was most definitely a glow.

  “Hold up,” Linc said. He was wearing the same telltale glow as Mindy, but his head was cocked as he first studied Brooke, then Garrett.

  Brooke instantly realized their mistake. In their rush to find out what was wrong, they’d run out of Garrett’s house without a care. Meaning she was no doubt also wearing the “glow.” She took a quick peek at Garrett, and yep. His hair was finger-tousled, by her fingers. His T-shirt was on inside out, and she realized she was wearing one of his shirts. “Oh, shit. We’re screwed,” she said beneath her breath.

  “Yeah,” Linc said, apparently possessing superhuman hearing. “You both definitely look . . . screwed.”

  Mindy took a good look and gasped. “Oh my God. You’re . . . together again?”

  That she’d asked this with such obvious joy and sincere hope made it a whole lot easier for Brooke to swallow that their secret was out.

  The last secret.

  At least, Brooke hoped to God it was the last secret.

  Mindy gave up on getting an answer out of Brooke and turned to Garrett. “Yes?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But don’t overreact—”

  Mindy threw herself at him, hugging him tight. “I’ve been trying to find the perfect woman for you for so long and you were so annoying about it, not being helpful or interested. I had no idea why, but now I know. You were waiting for the right one, the only one.” She snagged Brooke and dragged her into the hug as well. “Don’t you dare hurt him,” she said, and then eyed Garrett. “And don’t you dare mess this up!”

  Brooke managed to pull free. “So much for not overreacting. It was one night, Min. Don’t get excited. So what did you drag us out of bed for?”

  “To let you know that we got our shit together,” Linc said. “Which calls for a celebration in the form of an overnight camping trip, like the good old days. I even managed to arrange foisting all the children off on friends tonight. Let’s go get drunk, burn s’mores, dance to sappy country songs, and maybe Mindy’ll even go skinny-dipping in the hidden falls with me.”

  “Ew,” Brooke said, even though that was exactly what they’d done in the “old days.”

  “Sorry, but skinny-dipping is off the table,” Mindy said. “My skinny-dipping days are over.”

  “But everything else sounds good, right?” Linc asked.

  Mindy nodded.

  “Perfect,” he said. “I’ll pack us up.”

  Mindy blinked at him. “Did you just trick me into going camping, where there’s no electricity for my straightener or flush toilets?”

  Linc shrugged unapologetically. “Negotiating is a skill.” He looked at all of them. “Be here by three this afternoon, ready and packed.”

  “Two or four,” Brooke said. “Not three.”

  “Two it is,” Linc said easily.

  “You’re all batshit crazy,” Garrett said.

  “That’s a yes, right?” Linc asked.

  Garrett snatched a piece of perfectly crisped bacon, bit into it, and moaned. “If Mindy’s going to cook.”

  “And you?” Linc asked Brooke.

  Yeah, since she was just as crazy as the rest of them, if not more so, because suddenly she wanted much more than an overnight. “As long as there are s’mores.”

  Chapter 21

  “Oh my God.”

  “Actually, it’s Garrett. And shh.”

  The four of them hiked Robles Canyon. It was a steady but challenging trail that had Brooke’s blood flowing and heart pumping in a good way. Before coming back to Wildstone, she hadn’t challenged herself physically in a long time. Her body was loving it.

  “I want s’mores,” Mindy said, huffing and puffing. “I was going to resist, but I deserve them. I’m burning more calories than at spin class.”

  Several miles up, they came to a trail that led to an area few people knew about. There were three waterfalls feeding a small hidden lake. It was still chilly at night, and the area was deserted.

  Happy about that, Brooke smiled. “We’ve got the place to ourselves.”

  “Because there’re no toilets or hot showers,” Mindy pointed out.

  Linc leaned in and kissed his wife. “Our Hawaii getaway has both, I promise.”

  They built a fire, cooked hot dogs and s’mores, and drank liberally from the bottle of Jack that Linc had carried in.

  By ten o’clock that night, Brooke was feeling no pain, and neither was anyone else. She watched from across the fire as Mindy and Linc slow danced, swaying in a loose embrace to a symphony of the nearby water and the crickets protesting the night. Even from a distance of twenty feet, she could see how much they loved each other. They kissed with surprising heat before Linc boosted Mindy up into his arms and carried her into their tent, his hands sliding up her thighs and disappearing under her sundress as they went.

  Brooke sighed and turned away, her gaze locking in on Garrett.

  He held out a hand.

  She slipped hers into it and together they made their way to the water’s edge, staring out at the small pool
at the base of the first waterfall. The half-moon was partially obstructed by a few long, fingerlike clouds drifting over the night like a caress. The breeze carrying those clouds brushed Brooke’s face.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She tore off her top and shorts, leaving her in the bathing suit she hadn’t changed out of earlier. “Race you.” And she took off around the edge of the lake, heading for the rocky ledge on the other side, where once upon a time they’d often raced to the top and jumped off in tandem into the water below.

  She heard him right behind her. She was fast, but not fast enough. He’d stripped down to his board shorts and passed her with what looked like ease. She didn’t sweat it. She knew she climbed faster than he did; she’d catch him on the rocks. And besides, the view from back here—watching that lean, toned body in motion, all those sleek muscles stretching and bunching—was making her more breathless than the run.

  He beat her to the rocks, leaving her just beneath him as they began to climb, their puffing breaths making her laugh.

  “Something funny?” he asked, spread-eagled on the rocks, head tilted up, searching for his next handhold.

  “We’re getting old.”

  “Bite your tongue, woman.” And then he proceeded to beat her to the top.

  “Dammit,” she muttered, flopping over the ledge, lying there catching her breath. “I suck.”

  “Only if I’m very lucky.”

  She laughed, which backed up in her throat when he rolled to face her and tugged her into him. He wasn’t laughing—he was looking down into her face with a softness he rarely showed the world and a heated affection that stole her breath.

  “You don’t even realize, do you?” he murmured.

  “What?”

  “You climbed up here without hesitation.”

  She stared at him, stunned.

  He skimmed the pad of his thumb lightly over her lower lip, watching the movement. “I’m pretty sure it’s because you were staring at my ass the whole time.”

  “Hey, it was my competitive spirit,” she claimed. “I really wanted to beat you.”