Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Marie Jermy

  “Riding a stud.”

  Ramona felt sure her eyes were bugging, mostly because Rex had actually squared up to Ross. They were evenly matched in terms of height and weight, so she wouldn’t want to bet on who would come out the winner if they came to blows. It wouldn’t happen, though. Rex was, despite growing up with an abusive father, totally opposed to violence, and her brother, unless provoked, as with Raven—apparently he’d knocked his teeth down his throat before arresting him for rape—always kept a tight rein on his temper.

  Both then laughed and went into the kitchen, acting as if the last five seconds of macho, testosterone-fuelled tension hadn’t existed. She didn’t know whether to laugh, too, or curse. After a moment, she decided cursing was appropriate. On one hand, Rex’s explanation for their swift exit was reasonable and believable, but on the other, his “riding a stud” comment had been too close to the truth for comfort.

  Not that she’d actually ridden Rex—he had always been on top, or behind. Even up against that tree, he’d ultimately been the one in charge. She wasn’t complaining though. She did like an assertive man in bed. She liked them adventurous, too. And she got the impression that beneath the romance, and with their kinky roll in the hay, Rex was very adventurous. Which, she decided, was a good thing. Finding out how sexually adventurous Rex was would slow the slushiness of their relationship. It gave her the baby steps she needed.

  With that in mind, Ramona ambled through to the kitchen to join her family and Rex. Mega crap! Yes, okay, so Rex in the “No. 1 Stirrer” apron was a ridiculous sight, but with him discussing Ross’s wedding plans with her mother, Ross, and Samantha sharing knowing smiles, her father equally amused, he also looked part of the family, as a husband—hers.

  Actually, smugness aside, on so many levels, Rex was the perfect man. He was big—in more ways than one—strong, kind, honorable, faithful, and he made her laugh. Why wouldn’t she be half in love with a man who possessed those qualities? Whoa, again hold on there. Had she, Ramona Anderson, the non-doer of romance, just exercised the “L” word?

  “I know my marriage ended with a messy divorce, but if a special woman tells me she loves me, I’d do it all again. Say ‘I do,’ that is.”

  Did Rex have to pointedly look in her direction when saying that? So much for not being in a hurry to remarry. And, oh mega crap twice over. Her parents were now sporting “Have we just gained a son-in-law as well as a daughter-in-law?” expressions.

  Rex’s transformation from smug SOB to future dutiful son-in-law, coupled with the “love” word were definitely not baby steps, more like one giant leap for womankind. She needed her baby steps. Maybe even desperately so, otherwise she might do something totally crazy and really slushy, like propose.

  “Ramona, sit down. Your dinner is going cold.”

  Ramona slid into the chair opposite Rex and took a baby step. She kicked him hard in the shin.

  Chapter 11

  One superb nut-roast, two glasses of whiskey—though how anybody enjoyed the throat-burning-guts-on-fire stuff was beyond him, he’d only drunk them out of politeness—a bruised shin and an uninterrupted viewing of Ramona’s red satin bra strap later, Rex patted his stomach and complimented the chef. “Mr. Anderson. I mean, Ross. That was delicious.”

  “Dessert?” Jess asked, rising and collecting plates.

  Rex regrettably shook his head. “I’m fit to burst.”

  “Good. We haven’t got any, anyway. My chocolate soufflé developed a common man’s problem. Not that it’s ever been a problem with us,” she added, giving her husband a flirtatious wink.

  Rex had to ask. “What problem’s that?”

  “It failed to rise to the occasion.”

  He laughed out loud at the subtle innuendo. Removing the “No. 1 Stirrer” apron, Rex folded and placed it on the table, then relaxed in his chair and studied the twin sisters opposite.

  Though Ramona hadn’t spoken once, Samantha, too, had been quiet, apart from the telling off she’d given him for pruning a lilac at the wrong time of year—he must remember to give that bush a severe cut to back up the excuse he’d given—and Ross Junior’s barrage of humor-veiled threats to his manhood, threats he thought were unjustified since he would never harm one single hair on Ramona’s head, he felt part of the Anderson family, like he belonged.

  The experience was alien to him. He may have been a son-in-law for five years, and yes, he had liked Stacey’s parents, but he’d always had the impression that they believed he would never be good enough for their daughter. Ross Senior and Jess, on the other hand, had welcomed and accepted him into their home without prejudice or reservation.

  Then there was his own father. After fighting back against years of abuse, they had formed an uneasy relationship, often strained with endless silences. Not that his father had been afraid to voice his opinions. Rex ignored the attacks and the comments, which were so far from real it was unbelievable. However, there had been one time—on his wedding day, no less—that not only had his father been bang on target, but also he’d wished he’d actually listened to him.

  “Stacey’s only interested in herself. She’s vain and viper. She’ll never give you what you want.”

  Rex glanced across at Ramona. That image of her as his wife and their brood of kids running around was as clear in his mind as the first time he visualized it when he first arrived in town. If anything, it was vivid enough to show eight kids, four boys and four girls. Just something of note, the four boys were identical to each other and looked older than the four girls, again all identical. Two sets of identical quadruplets? Surely not, but how wonderful, as wonderful as it would be to place a gold band on Ramona’s left ring finger. He wondered if she would take his name. Stacey had refused, and for some time it had been a sore point.

  “How long have you been a vegetarian?” Samantha asked Rex, intruding on his thoughts.

  “Since I was seventeen. I had a bad experience with a hamburger. Never ate meat again after that.” He gestured between the two sisters. “Which one of you is the eldest?”

  “I am,” Samantha replied. “By about a minute.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t even have time to draw breath before Ramona popped out of my love tunnel,” Jess added.

  Since nobody appeared shocked or embarrassed, Rex decided he damn well wasn’t going to be either. He tried to catch Ramona’s eye, but she pointedly ignored him.

  “When are you going home?” Ramona asked her brother. It was the first thing she’d said since sitting down at the table.

  “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?” Ross Junior grinned. “I’ve got time for a game of blackjack.”

  “Blackjack? Ah, I’m embarrassed to say I don’t have a lot of cash on me,” Rex said.

  “This is the Anderson version,” Ross Senior informed him. “And we play cards for laughs, not for money.”

  “That’s not what happened the last time you played poker,” Jess teased her husband. “You still owe Ray a hundred bucks.”

  “And the hundred before that,” Ross Junior joined in.

  “Sometimes, Rex,” Ross Senior advised, “it’s best to keep one’s mouth shut in this family.”

  Rex grinned and followed everybody through to the living room. Once the coffee table was moved to one side and two decks of playing cards had been located in a sideboard, he sat cross-legged on the floor, Ramona to his right, Ross Junior to his left. Samantha sat opposite him between Jess and Ross Senior. He turned to Ramona and asked, “So what are the Anderson blackjack rules?”

  “The object of the game is to get rid of your cards before anyone else. We each have seven cards. The rest of the deck, minus the kings, queens and aces are placed facedown on the table, or in this case, the floor. Dealer goes first. We always start with Dad ’cause he’s the oldest—”

  “I prefer head of the family,” Ross Senior interrupted as he returned the unwanted cards to the packs and shuffled the remainder.

  Ramona continued as though she ha
dn’t heard. “Dad will turn over a card from the pack, and he’ll keep turning them until he shows one that matches a card in his hand. For instance, if he turns over a nine of diamonds, then he either has to have a diamond or another nine from the other suits. With me so far?”

  Rex nodded and picked up the cards Ross Senior had dealt him.

  “Once he’s matched a card, the game starts, and we take turns going clockwise. Your card always has to match the suit or number laid. If it doesn’t, then you miss a turn. Now this is where it gets interesting. If you place down a two, then the person on your left picks up two cards from the deck. If you have a three, they pick up the same number. If you have a seven, whether red or black, then we all swap hands. Which comes in rather useful if the person on your right has only one card left.”

  “Watch Mona for that,” Ross Junior told Rex. “Apart from leaving the john like a bomb site, it’s another nasty habit of hers.”

  “If you have a black jack,” Ramona continued, reaching around Rex and punching her brother in the arm, “then the next person has to pick up seven cards. The only way to cancel it out is if they have a red jack. Or if, like Junior, who always seems to have a black jack, you can be really nasty and the next person has to pick up fourteen cards from the pack. To carry on, the card after either a black or a red jack has to match the suit. They’re the rules. Got it?”

  “Just one thing,” Rex asked Ramona. “What does the winner get as a prize?”

  “The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

  “Funny.”

  “You did ask.”

  “They become dealer for the next game,” Samantha helpfully supplied.

  “Oh, but you’re not gonna win, Rex,” Ross Junior said with a good-natured smirk.

  “Really?” Rex kept a straight face as he glanced at his hand. Lucky or what? He had three black jacks—two clubs and one spade. He sneaked a peek at Ramona’s hand. No, she didn’t have any sevens. He would have snuck a peek at Ross’s hand. However, it seemed he liked to keep his cards quite literally close to his chest. “Then let the game begin.”

  Ramona laid a four of spades on top of her father’s four of diamonds and then prodded Rex with her elbow. “Smug SOB.”

  “I shall pretend I didn’t hear that, Ramona,” he murmured. Then, placing the jack of spades on the upturned pile of cards, said, “Pick up seven, Junior.”

  “Screw you, Rover!” was Ross Junior’s reply as he cancelled it out with a jack of hearts.

  “Excuse me? Rover?”

  “Yeah. Like that of a dog. Rex is a dog’s name, too, isn’t it? Or are you named after the dinosaur Tyrannosaurus Rex?”

  “Boys, boys!” Jess admonished, waving her hands in the air like a referee. “This is a friendly game. We treat each other with respect.”

  “Uh-oh, my wife’s showing her Machiavellian side,” Ross Senior chuckled as he blew her a kiss. “I’m so glad I’m not sitting next to her.”

  “Actually, dearest husband, I’ve got to miss a turn. And it’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch,” Jess added, winking at Samantha, who, to Rex’s astonishment, fashioned her mouth into one hell of a sly smile as she laid a seven of hearts down. Everybody groaned. Rex’s being the loudest of them all.

  “Whoa, what have we here?” Ross Junior smirked as he took Rex’s cards and saw the two black jacks. However, before he could gloat further, his father placed another seven, this time a club, on the pile and they all changed hands again.

  Despite the crap hand he was given, Rex won the first game easily. A painful dig in the side from Ramona halted the smug comment, and he dealt the cards for a second game. He won that, too.

  “I think there’s some serious cheating going on here,” Ross Junior grumbled, throwing his cards down in an over-the-top display of mock disgust.

  “I don’t cheat. At anything,” Rex added, daring to look at Ramona. She quickly turned away, but not before he caught sight of something that made his heart do a complete flip-flop. He quickly gathered the cards and began to shuffle, anything to stop him from drawing Ramona into his arms and fusing his mouth to hers to find out if she possessed the same feelings as what he did for her.

  Ross Junior then jumped to his feet. “Damn! Look at the time. If I don’t leave now, I’ll miss my flight.”

  “Do you want a lift to the airport?”

  “No,” Ross Junior replied to his father’s question. “Matt said to swing by the station and he’d take me.”

  “Lights flashing and sirens blaring?” Ramona asked with a grin.

  Ross Junior returned the grin, then grabbing Rex’s arm and yanking him up, the cards flying everywhere, he pulled him over to the front door. “Look after Mona,” he murmured, picking up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

  “I will,” Rex promised and then stood aside to let everybody say their good-byes.

  After a third game, again which he won, Rex found himself tasked with the mountain of washing up. He didn’t believe the excuse that the dishwasher was on the fritz, but that it was actually some kind of punishment for beating the Andersons not once, but three times at their version of blackjack.

  Although, “punishment” wasn’t quite the correct description. Carried out with much fun and frivolity, Rex felt the mundane chore, coupled with the card games and the fact that he’d been invited for Sunday lunch in the first place, only cemented his place in the Anderson family. It was ridiculous in some ways, but not at seeing a laughing and somewhat relaxed Samantha.

  The knowledge he was playing some part in distracting her from obvious painful memories felt good and right. He liked making Samantha smile because if she was happy, then so was Ramona. And he wanted nothing more than to make Ramona very happy indeed. The woman was in his blood, his bones, his heart, his soul.

  However, that said, there was something in danger of hitting the fan, and that was his promise not to touch Ramona. She had never once righted her bra strap, and it had been driving him nuts. She seemed to be teasing and testing him at the same time. She then surreptitiously flicked his ass with the dishtowel, and Rex knew what he had to do.

  He asked Jess where the bathroom was and was pointed upstairs, then just as surreptitiously beckoned with his finger at Ramona to follow him. She didn’t, not that he really expected her to. However, when he returned, he found her waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “I can’t drive. I’ve had a couple of whiskies. And I don’t feel like walking home, either. How many have you had?” he nonchalantly asked, despite knowing the answer.

  Her mouth might have taken a downward curl, but those striking green gems glinted wickedly. “Well, if your eyes hadn’t been glued to my tits, you would have noticed my glass contained OJ.”

  “Come home with me, Ramona. Please.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Samantha asked, joining them.

  You inconsiderate jerk, Latimer! There he went, putting his love life and his cock before Samantha’s need to be with her sister. “Oh, ah, I was saying we’re always busy Monday mornings, and tomorrow’s no exception. So I was going home to get an early night.”

  “Why don’t you go with him, Mona? I’ll be all right. I’ve got Mom and Dad. And Matt will be back later. And Rex? When you get home, give Mona a cuddle. I feel that comfort that you give her. It makes me feel safe.”

  Ah. When he got home, Rex planned to do more than give Ramona a cuddle. Yes, that would come at the end, but the part in between now struck him as disconcerting. What did Samantha feel when he made love to her sister? Swing the jungle vines with her? One look at Ramona’s flushed cheeks, and he had his answer. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. Well, actually, with indecision now written all over Ramona’s face, yes there was. “Stay. I’ll walk home. Just bring my SUV back tomorrow.”

  * * * *

  Ramona really wasn’t surprised that Rex had done a complete U-turn and insisted she stayed with Samantha. She needed to stay. No, really she did
. Her face was already on fire because what she intended to do with Rex once they got home didn’t involve a cuddle. And knowing her sister would feel a sight more than comfort and safety was something she didn’t want to dwell upon.

  However, Samantha was equally insistent, and before either of them could argue further, Ramona found herself and Rex outside, the front door closed in their faces. Oh, well. Perhaps Sammy will go to bed early.

  “I didn’t get to thank your parents for lunch.”

  Just as Rex said that, her parents opened the door, knowing smiles plastered all over their faces.

  “Forgot to ask, Rex,” they said in unison. “You’ll come next Saturday? Spend the day. It’s Ramona’s and Samantha’s birthday. You did know, didn’t you?”

  “No, I didn’t know,” Rex said, casting a frown at Ramona.

  “So, it that a yes, then?”

  Mega crap thrice over! Matchmaking parents definitely did not constitute as baby steps. Ramona shoved Rex down the veranda steps and over to his SUV before an answer could slip through his sensual lips. Holding out her hand, he dropped his keys into her palm and she pointed to the passenger side.

  They rode home in silence. She switched off the ignition and turned to face Rex, intent on telling him she was now going to screw his cock off, but noticed his attention was focused on the setting sun. Even when he removed his seat belt, his eyes never wavered from the gold-tinted earth.

  Eventually, when gold transformed into purple, Rex looked her way. With his head tilted to one side and a smile playing at the corners of his sensual mouth, Ramona knew he was going to make some romantic remark, either that or chastise her for not mentioning her birthday.

  She inhaled deeply, his spicy cologne faded by time, yet still potent enough to excite her. It was time for another baby step. An adventurous baby step. “Have you ever made out in a vehicle?”

  He ignored her. “So, it’s your birthday Saturday. What would you like from me, present-wise?”

  “An answer to my question.”