The Keys to Jericho

by Ren Alexander

  Hadley says, “I think it’s the carrier, not the phone.”

  “Right,” Finn mutters.

  I say, “Switch carriers. Simple as that.”

  “But I’ll have to get a new phone.”

  “You’re stubborn,” I accuse.

  Laughing, Dash says, “Pot calling kettle.”

  Playing with her ponytail, Hadley glances past me, quickly smiling at Dash, undoubtedly causing him to orgasm.

  Peering over at Dash, he hurriedly looks away from Hadley and I frown at him. “Bite me, Calder.”

  Dad says, “Alright now. It’s Thanksgiving. No biting each other today.”

  Still holding onto my coat, Kat says, “Adam, Finn, and Hadley, let me take your coats. I’ll put them on the couch in the den.”

  Finn reluctantly straightens to take off his puffed, black coat, and as Hadley takes off her blue coat, I glance at Dash, who again, looks away from her. Jesus. Hadley’s fucking boyfriend is standing merely a few feet from him and within choking distance. Finn’s going to catch Dash gawking at her and Dash will lose his life on Thanksgiving. I just hope Kat has his pie recipe first.

  Looking at the clock and going to the oven, Dash removes the turkey and says, “Well, this turkey isn’t going to carve itself, Jericho.”

  I scowl. “Why don’t you do it, Betty Crocker?”

  “Not my thing. I do pies.”

  Dad goes over, plugging in the electric knife on the counter. “I got it.”

  Dash grins. “Thanks, Mr. Beckett.”

  “It’s my specialty, Dashiell.” Christ. These two never get enough of that shit.

  Dash says, “I like Merrick’s new car. Did you pick it out for her?”

  Since Kat isn’t in the kitchen, I retort, “Yeah, I was all over that car.” It wasn’t bad to fuck in, though.

  Dad asks, “What’s wrong with her car? Your grandma has one.”

  “And you just answered your own question, Dad.”

  Dash casually asks, “What do you drive, Finn?”

  “A Mustang.”

  I ask, “Is it black?”

  He gives me a slightly irritated look. “No. Red with white stripes.” I guess he doesn’t get a membership to my inner circle.

  Dash presses, “Shelby GT500?” Dash and certain cars—his second reason for a hard-on.

  Finn scoffs, “Yeah, right. They only made 2,000 of them this year. Like I could afford one of those, anyway. The stripes are custom, though.”

  Dash grins. “Oh. Aren’t you a weatherman?” Stupefied, I gape at Calder as he metaphorically whips out his dick, and to his advantage, I know what he has to work with, so Finn had better be packing, too.

  “Sports anchor, but I have my own segment on Fridays.” Pushing up the sleeves of his brown sweater, Finn asks, “Aren’t you a kids’ gym teacher?” Ouch. So far, Finn’s dick is dangling between his knees.

  Nodding, Dash says, “I am. I guess we have sports jobs in common, huh?”

  Finn stiffly laughs. “Yeah.”

  Crossing his arms, Dash asks, “Don’t you travel a lot?”

  I look back to Finn, like I’m at a goddamned tennis match. “I do, but I get to see different places and meet a lot of people.” Damn, Calder. Your cock is shrinking.

  Dash shrugs. “I’m more of a homebody, staying where I might be needed.” Holy shit, Dash.

  Finn smirks, tilting his head. “I can handle both, but I bet that makes your girlfriend happy.” Fucking hell, Finn. Going right for the nuts.

  Turning away from the turkey, Dad asks, “You have a girlfriend, Dashiell?”

  “Not at the moment,” he grumbles over his pie.

  Kat returns to the room as Hadley says, “Okay. That’s enough work talk. “Kat, is there anything we can do to help?”

  Kat clasps her hands together. “My mom already has the table set, but we can pour drinks.”

  Hadley grabs Kat’s left hand, holding it up for Finn to see. “Look what Jared gave Kat.”

  Finn curtly says, “Yeah. You told me.”

  Hadley replies, “Well, now I’m showing you.”

  “It’s nice.” Nice? It’s not a fucking summer breeze.

  Sighing, Hadley asks him, “Can you believe my little brother is getting married?”

  Glaring at me, he says, “No, I cannot.”

  Hadley shakes her head. “And they’d only been together for a month when they got engaged!”

  I argue, “There’s more to it than that. Jesus.”

  Kat smiles. “We flirted for two years, so that counts for something.”

  Dash laughs. “Jericho flirted? I doubt that.”

  Kat giggles as I shoot Calder a look. Sensing the scene behind him as he piles turkey onto a platter, Dad says, “No violence today, boys.”

  Brenda walks into the kitchen and squeals, “Hi, everyone!” She pats my dad on the back as he finishes the turkey, and it makes me wonder if their kids’ engagement is bringing them closer. Shit. I refuse to be Kat’s brother. Adam Beckett and I will be having a talk.

  Brenda turns from my dad and says, “We need some more chairs. There are some folding ones in the basement, if two strapping men can go down there and bring up some.”

  “How many?” I ask.

  “Tony will be here with his wife Janine. Pete will be by later on, so let’s do four chairs.”

  As I head to the basement door, Brenda says, “Look at my future son-in-law. Always offering his help.”

  Rolling my eyes as I open the basement door, I head down the stairs, hearing footsteps behind me, expecting it to be Dash. However, once I reach the basement, I turn around to see Finn.

  Looking around for the chairs, I weave my way through stacked boxes. Finn says, “I guess I should offer my congratulations.”

  I shrug as I peer around the finished, but crowded, basement. “No one ever said you had to.”

  “So now, you’re suddenly into marriage?”

  Looking over my shoulder, I say, “Not suddenly.”

  “How’s that make sense? Not even five months ago, you told me you were against marriage, glad that I was, too. Now, you’re marrying someone you weren’t even dating?”

  I turn to face him. “We didn’t just meet on a dating site. Everyone seems to forget that Kat and I knew each other in high school.”

  “And you seem to forget that you told me to dump your sister, just to avoid marrying her.”

  “I’m not saying marriage is for you, but don’t drag my sister around, while you try to get your shit together.”

  He sourly laughs. “I’m the one who can’t make up his mind? You changed yours so fast, I need a neck brace!”

  “If I did change my mind, so what? You can always change yours and marry Hadley.”

  “I told you why I don’t want to, but ever since you announced your engagement, she’s been dropping more and more hints, leaving bridal magazines around, talking endlessly about wedding shit, particularly yours because Kat asked her to be a bridesmaid. It has to stop. The pressure is driving me fucking crazy.”

  Crossing my arms, I angrily scoff, “Are you looking for an apology from me because I want to marry Kat, and that’s now affecting your life with my sister? Because if you are, I’m fresh out.”

  “What was that whole speech you gave when we were fishing? You just don’t want me marrying your sister, so you feed me a bunch of bullshit?”

  “I’m looking out for Hadley.”

  “Right, since you’ve looked out for her zero times over the course of me dating her.”

  Shaking my head, I laugh. “Do you think she’ll always just want to date you? You’re going to have to either change your mind or let her go.”

  Putting his hands on his hips, he snaps, “You’re still fucking advocating me breaking up with her? What the fuck, Jared?”

  “I said it before. Shit or get off the pot. I know you’re against marriage. She isn’t. You’re either going to have to marry her or break up with her. I’ve never deviated
from that. I only changed what side of the argument I’m on now.”

  He glares at me as his hand impatiently swipes through his brownish hair. “Fuck, you’re preposterous. If she knew you were telling me to break up with her…”

  Laughing again, I counter, “If she knew the depth of your refusal to marry her…”

  Finn sneers, “She knows this, but of course, you’ll tell her.”

  “Nope. That’s your job. I’m not telling Hadley you’d rather her burn at the stake than marry her.”

  “That’s an exaggeration. I’ve already told her I don’t want to get married.”

  “I guess she needs a refresher.”

  “If I do ever change my mind, it’ll be because I changed it, not because someone told me I fucking need to.”

  Losing my patience, I shake my head. “Your unwillingness isn’t because you’re stowing pussy on the side, is it?”

  His eyes instantly widen. “Why in the hell would you ask me that shit?”

  “I have my suspicions.” Best to leave Hadley’s out of it.

  Crossing his arms and smirking at me, he scornfully says, “Like it’s any of your business.” I knew that underneath his polite, friendly façade, his inner prick was lurking and would rear its ugly head.

  “When the only woman you’re supposed to be fucking is my sister, then you better believe it’s my business who’s on your cock.”

  His arrogant grin flounders and he growls, “She is the only one.”

  “Keep it that way or you will hear from me about it. I promise you that.”

  “What are you boys doing down there? Organizing a yard sale?” Brenda asks from the basement door.

  Grabbing two chairs, I reiterate, “Shit or get off the pot, Wilder. There are other guys who would love to marry your girlfriend.” I say this to spur him into action, but the truth to that statement is scarily accurate. However, Dash Calder will not be my brother-in-law. I can’t even fathom that in my worst repetitive nightmare doused in gasoline.

  Upstairs, I set out the two chairs and take the empty seat next to Kat, across from Hadley. When Finn takes his seat, he shoots me a pissed off glare, and his frown only deepens more when my sister talks wedding shit with my fiancée.

  Hadley says, “Your wedding will be so romantic. That’s what I would want someday.”

  Kat says, “I’ll help you with yours, too.”

  “I don’t know when it would be. It still might be years away.”

  “Years? Why?”

  Hadley looks down at her plate, and quietly mutters, “I have to be asked first.”

  Kat winces. “Oh.”

  Shrugging, I say, “Maybe you need a do-over.”

  Looking up at me, Hadley snaps, “Jared.” As she petulantly shakes her head and rolls her eyes, Finn glowers at me, while his jaw twitches, and his hand on the table, tightening into a fist.

  On the other side of me, Dash says, “Leos are highly ambitious, but extremely stubborn.”

  Finn mutters, “Yeah. I’m stubborn.” He heavily sighs, and his fingers of his left hand anxiously flick together on the table. Reaching for the bottle of wine with his other hand, he fills his glass to the top in five seconds, before swigging it down in two.

  Again, not noticing Finn’s silent meltdown, Hadley resumes chatting with Kat about our wedding, much to Finn’s increasing horror, but with every glass of wine he downs, he relaxes until his bogus, self-assured smirk returns. Like Calder, I guess I’m the only one he’s not fooling.

  After dinner, as we all clean up the table, the edges of Finn’s brooding reemerge, but he manages to keep up his smug act when Hadley looks his way, while sending occasional, dark glares my way. Jesus. He has her snowed.

  While Kat finishes up with her mom, I go to the den to get our coats, but I hear my sister talking, so I stop.

  She says, “I didn’t think you’d drink so much wine. Are you okay?”

  Finn mutters, “Just thirsty.”

  “It was good wine. I think Kat said they’re having it at their reception. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Can you just take a break?”

  “From what?”

  “The wedding shit. That’s all I hear about anymore.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize I talked about it that much.”

  “Yeah. You do. It’s only getting worse and it’s barely even started.”

  “I’m in the wedding, Finn. I have to talk about it.”

  “With them. Not me. I don’t give a shit what color their napkins are or what song the caterers will dance to.”

  I hear her laugh. “They don’t usually dance—”

  “You know what I mean, Becks. Just stop it. I don’t need to hear every damn detail. It’s only November. Fucking July is a long time away.”

  “Not for wedding planning, really.”

  “Why are you arguing with me?”

  “I just—”

  “This shit turns me way off to ever…” He sighs and says, “Stop pressuring me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are. It’s not always what you say. It’s the innuendoes, the hints scattered all over your apartment, and now, even mine. It’s all irritating the fuck out of me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m in no hurry, like your brother suddenly is. I told you that I don’t want to get married. That’s no shock to you.”

  “I know, but—”

  “And here’s a heads up, I might not ever change my mind.”

  “Don’t you love me?” Hadley’s voice shakes and I want to punch Finn Wilder.

  Finn sighs. “Becks.”

  “Can’t you answer that?”

  “You know the answer to that. Loving you has nothing to do with this.”

  “It has everything to do with this, Finn.” She quietly states, “You’re not going to their wedding with me. Are you?”

  “Probably not. Too close to the 4th. That’s a busy time for me at work.” I hear Hadley’s unsteady breath and he unconvincingly mutters, “I’ll see what I can do.” He won’t even try.

  Without a further argument on the subject, Hadley deeply sighs. Finn says, “Let’s go. I need to catch some scores.”

  “It’s Thanksgiving. You’re working?”

  “If it helps me zone out, then yes. Gladly.”

  Hearing shuffling on the carpet, I dive into the nearby bathroom.

  Jesus Christ. Hadley has less damned backbone than I thought, letting Finn walk all over her. Goddamn it. Am I the only Beckett with a fighting spirit? She makes Dad look like a fucking Samurai.

  For Christmas, Kat and I spent her break together mostly in Philly, since I don’t get a work break like she does. It was rather nice, not having her mother pop in, excited to show Kat more wedding shit, as Finn had called it, which is one thing I agree with him. The planning gets to be too much at times, especially when I don’t seem to have a real say. Oh, I get an opinion allowance, but no final decision goes through me. Yet, in the big picture, like Finn, I don’t give two fucks about napkin colors or who dances to what song. Just as long as I get to call Kat my wife.

  On the other hand, I do have a major task to handle. I’m actually in charge of the honeymoon. I just don’t know where we should go. Somewhere secret, so her mother doesn’t show up, asking us when we’re going to have a baby. Fucking hell. She’d probably try to give me pointers on positions, and critique how fast I thrust into her daughter.

  “Do I really need to wear this shit? I look like a fucking pussy!” I loudly complain, pulling at the white fluff on the leg of my boxers. Looking up, I scowl at the Santa hat dangling from my head.

  From the bathroom, Kat yells, “Yes! Don’t take it off!”

  “What the hell? That was the part I was looking forward to!”

  “Not yet!”

  Crossing my arms over my bare chest, I glance out the window, praying no one can see me dressed like this. I’d rather a naked picture of me be posted online, than one of m
e wearing this fucking get-up.

  How did I sign up for this again?

  The small Christmas tree, Kat put in the corner, sparkles in the dim room. When the doorway darkens, I turn to see Kat, dressed in a sheer, red nightie, topped with the white fluff I hated two seconds ago, hugging her tits. The flimsy, red underwear she’s wearing with it won’t last long. As my eyes roam over her, red lipstick matches her outfit. The last thing I notice is the matching Santa hat she’s wearing.

  She says, “I can go change.”

  “Like fucking hell you will. Get over here.”

  Kat gets onto the bed and I grab her hand, pulling her to straddle my legs. As my hands slide up her ribs, over the thin material, she says, “You look hot, Santa.”

  “Oh, yeah? I hear you’ve been a bad girl this year, Katriona. What ever will I give you?”

  “A lump of coal?” I shake my head and she asks, “How about the South Pole?”

  “I live at the North Pole.”

  She grins, looking down. “The one in your shorts is south.”

  “I was right. Very naughty.”

  Kat lightly moans, and my jaw drops at how unexpected and sexy she sounds. “I’ll show you just how naughty I can be.” She runs her hands down my chest, my stomach, but stops at my waistband. She pouts. “Oh, wait. Aren’t you married?”

  Squeezing her tits together, I lick my lips. “Not yet. I’m still looking for my Mrs. Claus.”

  “You’re still auditioning for the position?”

  “Yep. In every position possible. Santa is eager to eat your Christmas cookies.”

  Kat giggles and my hands go to the top of her nightie, pulling it down to expose her tits. Leaning in, I hungrily take one into my mouth. When my hands go to Kat’s shoulders to push her onto her back, she unexpectedly moves and yanks down the front of my boxers. Bending, she quickly takes my dick into her bright red mouth.

  Watching her leave red streaks on me again, I groan, “Damn, baby. I love your signature. You fucking win. Be my wife.”

  Kat whispers over my cock, “I plan on it.”

  She licks up along my shaft and then sucks on the tip. When she takes me deep into her mouth, I close my eyes and whisper, “Hell fucking yeah.”