“He’s your son. All the way around, Kip, he’s you. From his dark blond hair to his deep blue eyes, the boy is you all over again, bad temper and all.” She pats the back of my hand.
“I don’t even have a temper, Peyton,” I say as I adjust our speed as we come into a little cloud bank.
“No, sure you don’t,” she says with a laugh. She turns to look at Rachelle in the back seat. “This man has no temper, but let me tell you what. If you use the last egg without getting more and it is early on a Sunday morning, watch out! This man will read you the riot act and let you know that can never happen, not ever.”
I do recall that particular little scene, but I was dog tired from a night of agony as our son was cutting his first tooth, and there was no coffee either.
The mansion comes into view and I see the pad has been cleared for me. Max and I have been mates for a couple of years, but it seems like forever. He and his wife are as close as siblings to me and mine.
It doesn’t take long once we land to find their twins running towards us. Zoey shouts, “Hunky Kip, Auntie Peyton!”
I hold out my arms and she rushes into them, little kisses she pecks all over my face as she holds my cheeks between her small hands.
“How’s my girl?”
“I’m fine. How’s my pony?” she asks. I bought her and her brother ponies last Christmas and kept them at our place in Los Angeles.
Her brother, Zane, tugs at my pants leg.
“Is my pony being good, Uncle Kip?”
“He is,” I say and put Zoey down and tussle the little, blonde boy’s hair.
Lexi walks out with their baby, Zakk on her hip. Her long legs clad in a pair of pink shorts and a little, white T-shirt hugs her toned body. She’s a true beauty all the way through. Max tells a story about how she was when they first met and I have a devil of a time believing the man.
He said she was a nerdy girl hidden behind owlish glasses and hid her spectacular figure beneath clothes too big for her. I just can’t believe that. She takes long strides towards us and gives me a hug.
“I’m so happy you all are here.”
Peyton pulls the baby out of his car seat and gives Lexi a hug.
“Thanks for inviting us.” She holds our son out to Lexi. “Wanna trade? I have to give my Zakkie Poo a kiss and hug. I missed the little monkey butt.”
Lexi takes Pax in her arms and coos at him, “Who’s the pretty baby boy?”
He giggles and grabs a handful of her long, blonde hair. Lexi smiles at Rachelle who’s made it out of the chopper.
“Good! You were able to make it. I’m so glad. Our house manager and chef, Hilda, is dying to get to cook with you this weekend. It’s all she can talk about, getting to cook with someone who’s training at the culinary arts program at UCLA.”
“It’ll be an honor to get some of her training. She’s a fantastic cook from what Kip and Peyton have told me about her.” Rachelle says as she runs her hand over Zane’s head. He reaches up to take her hand.
“You’re really pretty,” he tells her. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
She giggles. “Thank you and no. You interested, Zane?”
He laughs and blushes. “Maybe.”
We all laugh as we go inside.
Looks like Rachelle’s finally found a man!
Blake
A boisterous bunch of people walk into Max’s mansion, led by his wife, Lexi. The man and woman who follow behind her look vaguely familiar. The man especially. Into the doors Max’s little son, Zane, pulls someone along behind him.
“Come on, Rachelle!”
My heart skips a beat and I forget to breathe. She has long, black, silky hair that goes to her waist. She’s a tiny thing, maybe five foot two, her eyes are the most beautiful blue I’ve ever seen. Thick, black lashes surround them. Her skin is like porcelain and the slightest tinge of pink stains her cheeks. Her lips are red and have a natural little pout to them.
I’m moving across the floor as if she’s pulling me with some invisible cord to her.
“Hi, I’m Blake Chandler.”
She smiles and blushes as everyone laughs at me.
“Hi there, Blake Chandler.”
Max claps me on the shoulder as he comes up behind me. He gestures to the man with dark blonde, straight hair that goes to his shoulders and he has dark blue eyes.
“This is Kip Dixon. Yes, the recording artist, Kip Dixon. He’s just not wearing the make-up. He ditched it last year.”
“Yeah, I know, I saw him on a talk show a few months ago.” I extend my hand. “Nice to meet you, Kip.” He shakes my hand and I turn my attention to the lady next to him who has long, blonde curls which fall to her waist. Her eyes are a mix of green and brown and she’s very pretty. “You must be his wife.”
She takes up my hand and gives it a shake.
“Hi, Blake, I’m Peyton. This young lady here is my best friend, Rachelle Stone. She goes to UCLA. Where is it you’re from?”
“Lubbock,” I say then turn my attention back to the raven haired beauty. “What is it you're studying at UCLA?”
“Culinary arts. And what is it you do, Blake?” she asks.
I don’t have a damn answer for that. I do as little as humanly possible, but I don’t want her to know that.
“I’m kinda rich, so I’m looking for something to do.”
“Kinda rich?” she asks as she narrows her eyes.
Max saves me.
“He’s looking into becoming an investor. He inherited a little sum of money from his parents when they passed on and played the lottery in states across America. He won several of them and ended up with quite a tidy sum. He’s here so I can teach him a thing or two about investing his money to make more of it and keep as much as he can out of the government’s hands.”
Peyton wags her finger at me with a look in her eyes.
“You! I think I know you. Well, not know you, know you, but did you go to L.A. and drop your mom in the ocean?”
“Her ashes, yeah!” I look harder at her and slap my leg. “Yeah, it’s you two. I knew, I knew you guys from somewhere. Small freakin’ world!”
Rachelle nudges Peyton’s shoulder.
“So, you know this guy?”
“Kip and I were strolling along on the beach before the baby was born and saw him tossing the ashes into the water. We stopped and talked to him and he told us this heartwarming story about his parents passing on together. It was really sweet, in a sad kind of way.”
Rachelle’s eyes go soft as she looks at me and touches my hand.
“I’m sorry to hear that. How are you doing with that?”
“I’m fine. They died happy. No reason to be sorry for me.” I smile at her and want to take her hand in mine so damn bad.
Max saves me from making a fool out of myself. Another clap on my shoulder and he says, “Why don’t we let them get settled in and we can all meet out by the swimming pool.”
They agree and Lexi leads them to their rooms. She looks over her shoulder at me.
“I hope you don’t mind sharing a bathroom with Rachelle. I have her in the room that’s by yours.”
I shake my head. “I’m sure we can stay out of each other’s way.”
Not that I want that. I want to get all up in her way!
Rachelle
“Can you tie me up?” I walk into Peyton’s bedroom and ask.
Kip’s already taken the baby and went out to the pool. Peyton and I are changing into our bikinis and mine is being difficult. She ties it tight.
“I don’t need these babies breaking free,” I say with a laugh.
“So, the stud, Blake, what do you think?” she asks me.
I haven’t thought of him at all, at least in the last few seconds. He’s tall, I’d say about six feet, three inches. His blonde curls just touch his broad shoulders and he’s got amazing blue, brown eyes. His bone structure is probably the most symmetrical I’ve ever seen. He’s handsome, not boyishly cute, not adorable, an
d completely handsome.
“He’s okay,” I say.
Peyton huffs.
“Sure, he’s okay. That man has classic good looks. And I know you got a look at those monster biceps he has. Damn it girl, can you imagine getting swept up in his strong arms?”
We giggle and I pull a thin, white cover-up that’s see-through over my red bikini as we walk out of the room.
“Don’t go there, Peyton! You and Kip are always trying to play match-maker.”
Her arm goes around my shoulders and she squeezes me in her embrace.
“The joys of a good relationship are all we wish for you, Shelly.”
I can see the men all sitting around the edge of the swimming pool as we get to the glass patio doors. With no shirt to hide him, I see Blake is covered in muscles. Sharply I pull in a breath and tighten my hands into little fists.
“Holy crap!” Peyton hisses. “Would you look at that?”
“He’s gorgeous,” I mutter. “So many muscles.”
Peyton has to tug me along as my feet have stopped working for some damn reason. “Come on, let’s go play with the kids.”
I wanna play with something, but it’s not any kid!
Blake
Kip let’s out a long whistle as he looks back over his shoulder. I turn to see what he’s looking at and my eyes nearly pop out of my head.
“Oh my God!” I whisper.
Rachelle’s legs aren’t as long as Peyton’s or Lexi’s but they are perfectly formed for her body. She looks like a little doll, perfectly proportioned. Her breasts fill the little, red bikini top and the bottoms mold around her curvy ass.
“Breathe, Blake,” Max whispers as he jabs me in the ribs.
Peyton and Rachelle walk straight into the water, joining Lexi as she pulls little Zakk and Pax in a little inflatable boat. The twins swim around with floaties on.
Me, Max, and Kip sit on the side of the pool with our legs dangling in the cool water. I watch Max’s son, Zane, swim right up to Rachelle. He wraps his body around hers and I’m suddenly real jealous of the kid.
“Hi,” he says. She smiles sweetly at him and runs her hand over his little head.
“Hey there, sweetie.”
Kip nudges me with his elbow. “She’s great with kids.”
“Huh? Kids?” I stammer as I watch her interaction with the little boy.
Max pulls his shades off and hands them to me.
“Here, put these on so she doesn’t freak out that you’re staring at her. Then you can stare, but she won’t know.”
I put on the dark sunglasses and try to move my head so she’s unaware of how much I’m checking her out. Her little, hot body has me feeling heat in places it’s been a while I felt heat in.
“What’s she really like, Kip?” I ask. “Is she sweet or a complete bitch? Please tell me she has some terrible flaw I could never deal with. Because she’s stealing my heart way too quickly.”
“I wish I could help you out, bro,” Kip says. “The fact is she’s pretty selfless and quite nice. She’s funny and the best cook. I’ve asked her to become our personal chef, but she refused. She wants her own restaurant once she graduates though she knows it’s a pipe dream for her. Her family doesn’t have that kind of money.”
Her head turns to look at Zoey as the little girl shrieks for someone to watch her swim like a fish. Her dark, silky strands flow over her shoulder in slow motion and her chest rises with her intake of breath and it’s all in slow motion for some damn reason.
“Is anyone else seeing things in slow motion?” I ask.
They both laugh at me. Max sighs.
“You remember the first time you ever laid eyes on Peyton, Kip?”
He nods and picks up the beer sitting on the patio next to him.
“Like it was yesterday. I know you remember the first time you saw Lexi.”
Max leans back on his palms and looks up at the clear blue sky.
“That was so fantastic. Well not the first time I saw her. The poor girl didn’t have a clue and was hidden behind clothes that were too big and a nerdy look. Once I got her out of those clothes and the damn bun pulled out of her hair that was when I knew she was the one for me.”
“Damn it,” I murmur. “I’m done for.”
They both nod and Max hands me a beer out of the little ice chest next to him.
“I hope it goes a hell of a lot smoother for you than it did for either of us, guy.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask. “How can it go bad?”
They laugh again and Kip pats me on the back. “Don’t even ask that, mate.”
I take a long drink and watch Rachelle pull the little boy up on her shoulders and he jumps off them, squealing in delight. Zoey paddles up to Max and splashes us.
“Daddy, come in and let me jump off your shoulders like Zane’s doing with Chellie.” She splashes a little more water at us.
Max gestures for us to follow. “Come on guys, time to get wet.”
We slide into the cool water and make our way to the women and children. I glide up beside Rachelle as Zane is trying to climb up her to get back on her shoulders.
I take his little body and pick him up on my shoulders.
“Please allow me to help you out with this one, Rachelle.”
“Hey,” Zane whines. “I want Chellie.”
“Give her little shoulders a break, dude. Mine are a lot sturdier.” His little toes dig into my flesh and I look at her in amazement. “Wow! You didn’t even flinch when he climbed on your shoulders. His toes are like Eagle talons.”
She giggles. “I guess I’m not as wimpy as you.”
Wimpy! Damn!
The kid jumps off, and the force pushes me a little and my shoulder bumps her breast. I know I’m beat red as she clutches it.
“Oops! God, Rachelle, I’m sorry.”
She looks at me with a frown as she rubs her boob.
“That’s okay, Blake. But ow.”
My hand juts out to help her and it’s on top of hers as she rubs it.
“Hey,” little Zane screeches. “Don’t touch that!”
Max turns back and lets out a loud laugh. Kip shakes his head and I look up to see Rachelle’s mouth wide open. She steps back. “I got this, thanks, Blake.”
I’m an idiot!
Rachelle
The aroma of cilantro fills the large kitchen as Hilda and I make her famous enchiladas and my famous ceviche. She has Spanish music playing as we cook and we dance around the kitchen.
A tall shadow fills the doorway.
“Need any help?” Blake asks.
I look up to see him freshly showered, his blonde hair hanging in damp curls. The smell of him assaults my senses. It’s woodsy and all man. I fight not to inhale deeply as he comes up next to me.
A tight, black T-shirt he has on, along with some tight, blue jeans that hug his muscular legs. His large stature next to me has butterflies moving all over my insides. I gesture to the wooden block full of knives.
He takes one out and looks at me.
“Now what?”
I can’t seem to find my words for some reason. He has me a little wobbly in the knees. This never happens to me. I’m friends with a ton of cute guys. None of them have this effect on me.
I swallow hard and point to the jalapenos.
“Can you cut those up?”
“Sure,” he says as he takes them and looks around. “A cutting board?”
There’s one right behind him and I point at it. “There ya go.”
He looks back and grabs it. Hilda places a beer in front of him.
“Here you go Blake. Do you like to cook?”
“I think I might like it, if I knew how to make a few things. I eat mostly take out and frozen dinners since my Mom isn’t around to cook for me anymore.” He slices the pepper down the middle. “Like this, Rachelle?” His elbow nudges my side and little electric jolts run through me.
I reach across him, accidentally grazing his ches
t with my breasts and pick up a pepper. My body is quivering and I fight to regain some damn composure.
“Like this,” I say as I place it on his cutting board and dice it up into tiny pieces.
His body is tense as he watches me.
“Okay, I got it now.” He looks at me and smiles. “I like your dress. Coral looks good on you.”
A little smile breaks free and runs across my face. “Thank you. Black looks good on you.”
He looks around and says, “Thank you, Rachelle. You don’t drink? I noticed you haven’t had anything. You want something else. Maybe you don’t like beer.”
“I’m not old enough,” I say and continue to chop the cilantro.
“Oh!” He stops chopping and looks me up and down. “How old are you?”
“Twenty. Tomorrow is my birthday.” I stop myself from saying anymore. I haven’t told anyone that. I hate for people to make a fuss over me and birthdays are one of those times people will fuss if they know about it.
“Tomorrow! Well, what’s the plan for your special day?” He turns towards me and waits for my answer.
I shake my head. “No one else knows. To be honest, I don’t want anyone else to know. I don’t know why I told you that. Forget about it, okay.”
“I doubt he will and neither will I,” Hilda says as she places the large pan of enchiladas in the oven. “What’s your favorite flavor of cake?”
I shake my head. “Really. I don’t want anyone to bother. I kind of hate birthdays.”
Blake turns and leans back on the counter, his arms crossed in front of him and it makes his large biceps flex. “Why would you hate them? And it’s your twenty-first birthday at that. That’s a big one. I know, I turned that last year. Me and my friends partied hard.”
“Well, I’m not a party type of girl so let it go,” I say and take the cilantro and toss it into the large, stainless steel bowl.
His eyes never leave me as I walk away to take the tomatillos to the sink to wash them. I catch him and Hilda exchanging looks and it pisses me off. At myself mostly. I should’ve kept that to myself.
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