by Olivia Snow
“You’re looking at me like you’re going to eat me.” His voice was low and his eyes burned with desire.
“Oh, I will, Professor.” I ran my hands along his abdomen, working my way up from his abs to his chest. He grunted, gripping my waist as he pressed me against him. “At Last” by Etta James started to play.
“Fitting,” he whispered against my lips.
“I don’t know how to dance to this.”
“It’s just a slow dance, baby.” He placed my hand on his shoulder, wrapping his arm around my waist as he held my other hand in his. We moved slowly to the song, gazing into each other’s eyes. The lyrics hit me right in the chest, my heart felt like it was being squeezed into love’s submission and I couldn’t hold back the tears.
“I know, baby,” he whispered. He knew I loved him, he knew I was having trouble with it, and he was still here sweeping me off my feet. The song ended and “Almost Like Being In Love” by Nat King Cole began. I laughed, wiping the tears from my eyes.
“You’re very sentimental today.”
He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m trying to make up for being an asshole earlier.”
“It’s okay, Max, I know our relationship isn’t conventional, and she’s still your wife…not to mention the mother of your son, so it’s only natural to have some sort of feeling about her coming back.” Max kissed me almost as if he was saying thank you, then proceeded to teach me how to dance to this sort of music. By the end of “In the Mood” by Glenn Miller, I was breathless.
“How did you learn how to dance like this?” I asked, taking the water bottle he handed me.
“My grandmother was a fan, she taught me.” He winked.
“Who doesn’t love Billie Holiday, right?” I said as a familiar song began to play.
Max eyed me, seemingly perplexed. “Lucky guess.”
“Pffft, it wasn’t a guess. I know my shit.” I stepped forward, poking the middle of his chest.
“Okay,” he said, stepping around me to his phone, scrambling along until he found a song. “This song has been used in countless movies and TV shows, but do you know who sings it?”
I grinned as I heard the trumpets. “This particular version is Dean Martin.”
He gawked at me then shuffled through his play list again.
“‘Fever,’ Peggy Lee.” As he flicked through each song, I named them. “‘Feeling Good,’ Nina Simone, ‘Witchcraft,’ Frank Sinatra.”
“What the fuck, how is this possible?” He frowned.
“First of all they’re all in a very similar genre, if not the same, so it’s easy to pick them out. Is this what you’re into? Are you a crooner?”
He grinned, leaving “Witchcraft” on as he reached for my hand again for a dance.
“Yeah, maybe, I guess I am. How do you know all these songs?”
“My dad was really big on music, he was fascinated by the way people could write something to music and make a memory immortal. Just by hearing the song you’re taken back to that memory, how you felt, the smells, the setting. Music makes you happy, sad, or angry. It can mellow you out or give you energy. Music was always playing at my house growing up. It didn’t matter which type, something was always on.” I never knew how easy it was to speak about him until I was in Maxwell’s arms. I felt safe and so did my secrets. He smiled, kissing the tip of my nose.
“You’re getting the hang of this,” he said as we moved to the music.
“I’m a quick study,” I whispered against his lips.
Max pushed me against the wall before he gripped my thigh and lifted my leg; I instinctively wrapped it around his waist. Dancing time was over. He worked his lips on mine as I felt his hand moving from my thigh to my breast; he squeezed the way he loved to, the way that drove me crazy. Trailing wet kisses from my mouth to my neck, he nipped my skin, leaving me breathless.
As I turned to give him better access, I looked over to the front door. Standing there completely in shock was a beautiful blonde with a suitcase in each hand. Apparently the universe still hated me.
“Max.” My voice was hoarse. Clearing my throat, I tapped his shoulder. “Max.”
“Yeah, Peaches, say my name. You know what I like, don’t you? You naughty—”
“Mac!” The blonde screeched. Mac? Max stiffened as he swung his head in her direction.
“Gwen? What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow night.”
He pulled away, dropping my leg, and turned to greet his wife.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Vanessa
Before I could pull Diesel aside and ask why everyone had gotten so quiet, the front door flew open. Stepping inside with a streak of sunlight behind him, his appearance wasn’t clear to me until he closed the door. Before I could get a look at him, the stale smell of cigarettes and whiskey flooded my nostrils.
“The prodigal son returns.” Carson widened his arms and sauntered into the dining area of the kitchen. Diesel forced a smile and stood to hug his uncle.
“I think you mean wayward son, Unc,” Diesel mumbled against his uncle’s embrace.
“Same shit.” He stepped away from the hug. When he looked down at me, I quickly rose to shake his hand. “My, my, my, who do we got here? You lost, darlin’?” It was the same line Diesel had said to me the first time we met, but coming from Carson it made me feel uncomfortable and icky. I fought the uneasy shiver building inside my stomach.
Luckily, Diesel moved to my side and placed a hand on my hip; I instinctively melted into him.
A cold smirk appeared on Carson’s face. “She yours?” he asked, but his stare was still moving up my body, lingering on my breasts. Diesel’s grip tightened around my skin; he was getting angry, but out of respect he wasn’t telling his uncle off. Whether it was out of respect for his mother or his uncle I wasn’t sure.
“This is Vanessa. Sweetheart, this is my Uncle Carson.”
“It’s a pleasure.”
“Pleasure is all mine, darlin’.” He held my hand, kissing my knuckles. It took all of my self-restraint not to shiver and yank back my hand.
“All right, leave the poor girl alone.” Grace intervened, breaking whatever tension was created by Carson’s presence. I got the sensation Grace was the only reason Carson was tolerated. We sat back into our seats but the energy was a lot different than it had been five minutes ago. Duke, Cooper, and Beau soon excused themselves, giving Grace a thank you kiss on the cheek before leaving.
“You coming out tonight?” Beau asked. Diesel looked at me with a grin.
“Yeah, we’ll be there.” Beau matched his smirk before he winked at me.
“All right, then. Nice meetin’ you, Vanessa.” He flashed me a smile I was sure he used on all the girls.
“You too.” I smiled back. Yeah, these boys were good looking, but none of them held a candle to Diesel. Diesel’s smile made me melt into a puddle of girly hormones. These boys were minor league, and Diesel was pro. Grace walked over, placing a full plate of food in front of Carson.
Taking a big scoop of mashed potatoes to his mouth, Carson asked, “So, how long y’all been together?”
“We’re not, we’re only friends. She has a boyfriend.” Diesel finished his plate as he got up from the table. “All done?” he asked me.
I nodded yes. After he’d gone to the sink to rinse our plates, I could feel Carson and Axel’s glares on me, but I busied myself with how interesting my cuticles were today. Grace walked over to refill my water; looking up, I was met with a warm smile.
“Where’s your people from?” she asked, sitting down across from me.
“My father is from Colorado and my mother…she’s actually from here.” I cleared my throat.
“Here? As in, Noble?”
“Well, no, ma’am. I’m not sure from which city, all I know is she’s from Oklahoma.” It seemed silly saying it out loud. I mean, who doesn’t know where their family is from?
Carson’s face wrink
led in confusion. “What’s your momma’s name, darlin’?”
“Cynthia.”
“Cynthia what?” He threw his head back, and I sensed Diesel standing behind me.
“Madkins, Cynthia Madkins.” At least I knew her maiden name, and not because she’d allowed it. I had needed my birth certificate for school and got a glimpse of my mother’s maiden name for the first time by chance.
“Cindy—Cynthia Madkins?” Grace asked, my mother’s name coming out like a cold whisper. “Is she related to Roseanne Madkins?”
“Yeah, yes, ma’am. That’s my Aunt Rose.” I gaped. When people say it’s a small world, I never really think it’s this small. Grace looked up at Diesel.
“You’re working for Cindy’s husband? And you brought her daughter here? Does she know, Diesel, does she know Vanessa is here?”
“No, Momma, she doesn’t.”
Grace’s face turned white as she rose from the chair with shaky legs. “Excuse me.”
When she stepped into the kitchen, I looked up at Diesel, wondering why his mother was so afraid of mine. He only shrugged his shoulders and said he didn’t know. Carson chuckled, letting out a long whistle.
“Damn, Diesel, you sure know how to pick ‘em.” He eyed me with a serious expression. “Your momma is the devil himself.” He nodded to himself before looking down to concentrate on his food once again.
I grimaced, embarrassed and feeling out of place. I was now the enemy because of my mother; these people didn’t know me and yet they were judging me.
I circled my arms around my body in an attempt to feel safe, but Diesel suddenly hauled me out the chair and tugged me outside, away from his house, in the direction of the woods.
“Diesel, stop!” I pulled my arm back, trying to slow him down. He halted at the tone of my voice.
“Did I hurt you?” He inspected my arm.
“No, but you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“You were upset, my family made you upset…and I wanted to scream at them for doing that. I, I’ve never wanted to do that ever, never for a girl. But you, Vanessa, you make me forget what I once thought was important. It feels like my only job in life is to make sure you’re safe and happy. I’ve never felt this way. I don’t know what to do with it.” He ended his words with a whisper, and every syllable went straight to my heart.
Not only was this man willing to give up his job to be with me, but his family also. I would never ask that of him, but if I compared him to Gabriel—which I knew was awful to do—I realized that Gabriel wouldn’t even give up my cousin for me, and Diesel was willing to drop everything he held dear to be with me.
He was the one. He was the one I wanted. He made me feel like a better person, he gave me strength. I wanted to be better, to be strong for the man who was standing right in front of me. I stepped forward, placing my hands on his hard chest. On the tips of my toes, I moved my lips slowly around his, coaxing his to part.
“Baby, I’m not in my right mind right now. If I kiss you I won’t be able to stop,” he whispered against my lips.
“I want you to make love to me, Diesel.”
Diesel groaned and tried to step back but I gripped his shirt and wouldn’t let go. “No, Vanessa I told you, you deserve to be romanced and—”
“No, Diesel, I deserve a man who looks at me the way you do. I deserve to be treated with respect and cherished the way you cherish me. The way you talk to me, the way you love me. That’s what I deserve.”
Diesel stilled at my words. “You’re right, darlin’, I love you.” He crashed his mouth against mine and draped his arms around my waist, holding me close.
I moved my hands under his shirt, and as soon as I got to his bare, sculptured abdomen my phone rang, singing “American Honey”. Shit! Shit! Shit! Diesel pulled back once it became apparent my mind was elsewhere. My body was no longer melted into his, but in a rigid state.
“Answer your phone,” he said coldly, backing away before he turned for the house.
“Diesel, I—”
“I’ll wait for you inside.” He didn’t give me a chance to respond or to explain myself. But how was I going to? I couldn’t tell him Stellen’s secret.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Where are you?” He sounded nervous.
“I’d rather not say.”
“Yeah, I get it, you don’t trust me anymore. I don’t blame you.”
I sighed, annoyed he’d interrupted my moment with Diesel, frustrated that he’d lied to me, that my brother lied to me, even if they had a good reason to.
“What is it that you wanted, Stellen?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right. That—”
“That I wouldn’t say anything.” I finished his sentence.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry, Stellen, I won’t say anything. It’s really none of my business.”
“Well, it kind of is, our parents want us to—” I stopped listening as I heard the sound of girls giggling. The sound was coming from Diesel’s house.
“Listen, Stellen, I have to go.” I hung up, not even waiting for him to answer. Hiking over the slope, now on flat ground, I saw a black jeep parked next to Diesel’s truck. Standing next to it were three girls, along with Diesel, Carson, and Axel.
“Hey there, princess, where’d you run off to?” Carson asked.
“Her boyfriend called her,” Diesel snapped, making me cringe.
“Who’s your friend?” the pretty blonde asked, pressing herself to Diesel’s side.
My chest constricted and I felt my scalp burn red and my eyes scorching with tears. I startled as someone’s hand rested on the back of my neck; it was Axel. He began making introductions.
“This is Vanessa, a family friend. Vanessa, this here is Trixie,” he indicated the pretty blonde blue-eyed girl pressed up against Diesel, “That’s Dakota,” Dakota gave me a sincere smile and a small wave, she was a brown-haired beauty with big brown eyes, “and Kaylyn.”
Kaylyn was also a blonde but her hair color was more in between light brown and blonde, not like Trixie’s bright golden hair. I smiled and waved to all three girls, even though I wanted to break Trixie’s fingers. I smiled up at Axel, thanking him for the gesture, and he smiled back sweetly, but our moment vanished as we both saw Diesel’s reaction. I swallowed hard.
“Can I use your bathroom?” I asked Axel, who nodded and offered to show me in. Before he could, Diesel interjected and took me by the arm, basically dragging me inside.
“What the hell is your problem?” I yanked my arm free, pushing against his chest.
“My problem? Not ten minutes ago, you were going to let me fuck you, and now you’re all up on my brother!”
“Oh, so now it’s fucking?” I was so mad at him, but I didn’t disguise how hurt I was. The problem was in my head; I wanted Diesel, but he still thought I was in a relationship with Stellen.
“What? No, I…I didn’t mean it like that, we were just…and you and Axel were…fuck, I don’t know what the hell I’m saying.” He rubbed his scalp with his hands. “I mean, Vanessa, I just told you I loved you and then your boyfriend calls you, then my brother has his hands on you.”
“Diesel, you were just pressed up on some other girl, Axel was only comforting me.” Stepping closer to him, I broke the small distance between us. I kissed his stubble-covered jaw, needing to feel his warmth; he hissed, gripping my hips and pressing me closer. Diesel groaned, lowering his lips to mine.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Trixie glared at us with her hip cocked to the side.
I officially hate this bitch. Diesel extended his arms and gently pushed me to the opposite wall.
“What do you want, Trix?”
“It’s time to go.” She smiled sweetly, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her.
“Go where?” I asked.
“To the farm, it’s party time.” Diesel smiled tightly, nodding at me to follow behind.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Vanessa
The farm turned out to be a torn down building that had once been a farm. Cars and trucks surrounded the building and off to the side was a huge bonfire. There was already a large group of people dancing and drinking around the fire. I fell in love with the scenery instantly.
As we neared the fire there was loud cheering now that Diesel had arrived. There didn’t seem to be a place we went where he wasn’t known. There were pats on the back, handshakes, and kisses on the cheek; everyone was happy to see him. Beau appeared with a guitar in his hand, and he handed it off to Diesel.
“Its tradition,” he explained.
Axel leaned into my ear and whispered, “He plays the guitar. Wait till you hear him sing.”
Oh, my. If I wasn’t in love with this man before, I am now. The realization made me swoon. I love Diesel; there was no question about it.
“Later,” Diesel told Beau before he sauntered off to talk to a group of guys.
Soon enough, like a fucking plague, Trixie was there, rubbing against my man. She leaned into him, flirting and making him laugh. My chest tightened and all I wanted to do was burst out in tears or pull out my hair.
“You’re honey, she’s grease,” Axel said, bending down to the cooler beside him to pull out a beer.
“Pardon?”
“Milk doesn’t mix with grease, but honey does. She’s no good for him, never has been, never will be.”
“Clearly, he doesn’t see that.”
“Darlin’, you want him? Go get him. Fight for what’s yours.” Axel pointed at the pair with the long neck of the bottle.
“I’m not much of a fighter.” But when I thought of Ava’s jaw, I knew that was a lie.
“Naw see, you ain’t got to physically fight, but my brother is a particular type of person. Actions speak louder than words to him. Like I said, you want him?”
I nodded.