A Wild Ride

by Vivian Arend

  “On the good days.” Nicole eyed the chaos that had taken over the counter in the kitchen, where the remains of a mac-and-cheese box was still visible, along with way more pots and orange-coated spoons than necessary to feed three small children and one oversized, albeit still annoying enough to be a kid at heart brother. “He’s a super uncle, which means he buys the noisiest toys on the shelf. You know, the type who wires the kids up before he heads home.”

  “I did that last year,” Laurel confessed. “The noisy-toy thing. I regret it now that I’m home. All those bells and whistles drive me crazy, even during the short visits to my sister’s.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  A shocking silence lay over the entire house. The dining room table was covered in empty dishes. Stray macaroni noodles clung to the bowls, while a few remaining carrots and celery sticks and small broccoli florets sprouted from a container of ranch dip. The highchair was coated in a thick layer of something puce-coloured she didn’t even want to guess the food source for.

  But there was no sign of the kids, or her brother.

  “I seem to have lost them,” she confessed to Laurel. “I doubt Mike took them outside. It’s nearly bedtime.”

  “Follow your nose,” her friend deadpanned. “We’re talking three kids under the age of five—someone needs changing if they don’t need to be completely hosed off.”

  Finally something registered. A low rumble from the basement. Moving closer, it was clearly a deep, male voice followed by the excited whisperings of children.

  Nicole peeked her head around the corner into the playroom and stopped in shock. Instead of chaos, she discovered her nephews and niece had been magically enchanted into perfect behaviour, but not by her brother.

  Troy Thompson had settled his bulk onto the middle of the worn playroom couch. With a kid on either side of him and the baby in his lap, one strong hand cradled Dahlia upright against his chest while his free hand held a children’s book. The boys hung over his arms, silence falling as Troy picked up the story again.

  Oh, this was so not fair.

  Nicole forced herself to look away, rotating until her back was against the wall. “I think my ovaries just exploded,” she murmured into her phone.

  Silence echoed from the other end of the line for just long enough to make it really clear Laurel was uncomfortable. “Do I…want to know why?”

  “Oh, shut up. Mike’s not here. Troy’s babysitting. He’s got three kids draped all over him, and he looks happy as a pig in mud.”

  He looked like he freaking loved being surrounded by the kiddies, and the final brick got shoved out of the protective wall she’d built.

  Her friend caught on far too fast. “This is where I should say something about karma, except in more religious terms, right?”

  “This is where I tell you to take a hike.”

  Laurel laughed. “Really? Not even a swear word? You are turning over a new leaf.”

  “Don’t push me. I’ll call you back later.”

  She chanced another peek. It was worse than she thought. Troy was totally getting into it, growling along with whatever character was in the book. The little boys hid their faces against his shoulders. Dahlia’s jaw dropped and she stared up at him, little baby fingers reaching out to touch his face.

  He pretended to chew on her until she giggled, and that’s when it happened. The worst thing possible.

  Troy plucked up the baby and gave her a kiss on the cheek, a look of happy amazement drifting over his features as he cuddled her for a moment before tucking her back into his lap.

  Nicole turned away again, body aching in places that shouldn’t feel so empty.

  He was not playing fair.

  She snuck up the stairs and went to work cleaning the mess, mostly because it gave her something to do while her mind raced, trying to make sense of her discovery.

  It wasn’t finding Troy happily ensconced with her sister’s ankle-biters. It was the craving she hadn’t expected to feel so strongly while thinking about him in conjunction with kids.

  Suddenly the idea of making babies with Troy played out in Technicolor in her brain, and she had to put down the pot in her hands before she dropped it.

  Babies with dark eyes and dark hair that curled over their foreheads. Babies with laughter that rang out when their daddy nibbled their toes or tickled their tummies. She knew exactly how pretty Thompson babies could be—little Tanner was dangerously cute.

  Add in Troy’s sweet side, and mischievous side, and…

  Fuck, she was seriously going to fall over and die of a hormone overdose if she kept this up.

  The rumbling from the basement got louder. Story time must be over. Nicole gave the table a final wipe before turning to face the top of the stairs.

  Tyson and Tucker spotted her first, sweeping in with shouts of “Annie Nic, Annie Nic.”

  Dark-brown eyes met hers even as she knelt to hug her nephews close. Troy held Dahlia easily in one arm, her little head resting on his chest, eyes drooping closed.

  She felt another twist deep inside her gut as she swallowed hard and offered a rather breathless “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he returned. “Okay, guys. Looks like your auntie came to help get you into bed. Who’s going to be the first awesome dude ready for good-night kisses?”

  Incredibly, it worked, Tucker and Tyson racing off down the hall toward the bathroom.

  “Is that like the Pied Piper in reverse? You can convince them all to run away from you with a single spell?” Nicole asked in amazement.

  “Hey, they’re no dummies. Beautiful woman offering kisses in bed? I’d be running this instant if I had a bed within sprinting distance.”

  He tucked her against him, kissing her briefly, Dahlia’s warm body between them. It was a teeny taste of heaven, and Nicole shivered with the impact of it, ninety-nine percent sure she was tipping past the point of no return.

  Troy pressed Dahlia into her arms. “You want to put her down while I get the varmints ready for you?”

  “Meet you in their room in a couple of minutes.”

  It was scary right and natural to be standing in a house passing a sleepy baby between them. Nicole held Dahlia to her chest as Troy backed away, staring at her with a cocky smile as if he knew exactly how hard her hormones were percolating at that moment.

  He’d deliberately suggested he’d take Mike’s place as babysitter that evening. Partly as an ongoing peace offering to his friend, partly because he needed to know if he could deal with this final hurdle.

  Everything else about being with Nic was aces, but with her wanting kids ASAP, he needed to be able to put up or shut up. And now as he supervised tooth brushing and potty duty, he could still hear his friend’s droll comments…

  “You want to spend an evening with the carpet monsters?” Mike had eyed him suspiciously. “Tell me this is to impress my sister.”

  “It’s to impress your sister.”

  Mike snorted. “I’m still pissed at you, but not because you’re dating her, by the way.”

  “Am I taking over tonight for you or not?” Troy demanded. “And then you can tell me what’s got your wittle fweelings all tangled wup.”

  “Ass,” Mike drawled. “Yes, you can babysit. I’ll text Jodie and give her the heads-up. But I’m pissed because you didn’t fucking tell me.”

  “Tell you…what?”

  Mike pulled out his phone and sent his sister a text. “That you liked Nic for real.”

  “You said you’d rip my arms off if I ever touched her,” Troy reminded him.

  “So? That’s what any brother would do. Hell, I’m pretty sure you did worse to Gage once upon a time. You’re my best friend, you idiot. Even if you are an ass, you’re better than most jerks out there. Them, I’d rip their heads off.”

  “Body parts equal the level of your affections. Got it.” Troy sighed. “You’re right.”

  Mike blinked, glancing up from his phone. “Really?”

  Troy nodde
d. “I should have told you, only she wanted us to keep it secret. And when it comes between making you happy, and making Nic happy? She wins. Hands down, every fucking time.”

  His friend stared at him, his expression brightening. “Now that? Is what I needed to hear months ago. You have my blessing, son.”

  “Screw you,” Troy muttered.

  “The rule still stands—don’t ever talk to me about sex again. Oh, and if I ever catch her crying? It’s not your arms or head I’ll remove from your body,” Mike said evenly.

  “Threat?”

  “Promise.”

  Troy had laughed, accepting the brotherly back pounding he’d gotten from his friend, suddenly aware of a load lifting off his shoulders that he hadn’t realized had been weighing him down.

  He’d missed Mike’s friendship.

  But just then he wasn’t about bromance—he was a man on a mission. He’d shown up at the house, gotten the kid-sitting detail rundown from a moderately hesitant Jodie before she was forced to leave or cancel her evening out.

  The ensuing chaos had been…

  Well, frankly, it had been a blast. Convincing the little guys to stop running around the house screaming at the top of their lungs had taken him joining in, shouting louder than either Tyson or Tucker as he tore in circles around the coffee table, waving his arms like a banshee.

  The boys had been suitably impressed, although Dahlia’s lips had quivered for a second as she stared wide-eyed over the edge of the playpen, but he’d dealt with that as well.

  Somehow all those puzzles and tricks Nic had played on him over the past months had turned into the perfect rugrat corralling training, and he felt like the king of the world discovering these little people liked him.

  And now, with the boys climbing under their matching Star Wars quilts, and Nic joining him to tuck them in, he nearly quivered with excitement. He had to let her know he was completely on board to have some of their own.

  Which…holy. Fucking. Shit.

  They left the boys’ room with nightlights shining, closing the door firmly behind them. Troy caught her fingers, intending to bring her with him to the living room, but she surprised him, tugging him to a halt. Wrapping her fingers around his neck and bringing him in for an eager kiss right there in the hallway.

  Her taste was intoxicating the way he’d always imagined strong liquor to be, his concentration spinning as she leaned back on the wall and pulled him over her like a protective layer. Bodies tight together, lips meshing, Troy dragged in gasps of air when he could, hands gripping her hips tightly to stop himself from ripping away the layers between them.

  He stumbled them a few steps farther from the kids’ rooms. Nic had her hands buried under his shirt and was lightly scratching his back like a cat marking its territory.

  The deep, urgent need he felt for her was rising fast, but they couldn’t just keep going. Somehow he tugged his lips from hers.

  “Talk time,” he begged.

  Nic groaned dramatically, melting against him for a moment as her forehead dropped to his chest. Both of them were breathing hard, and it took a moment before they made it to vertical. She blew out a long, slow breath then guided him back to the living room.

  It seemed the safest thing to drop into the armchair and put a little distance between them. At least that was Troy’s idea.

  Nic’s was to lower herself into his lap the instant he sat down.

  He fought to keep the growl from his voice as he spoke. “You’re not making it easy to keep things PG.”

  “You never make it easy,” she confessed, but she relented and switched to the couch, staring across the three feet separating them as if it was the Grand Canyon. “So. Talk time?”

  Hell if he could remember what he wanted to tell her. “Right.”

  Her pulse pounded in her neck, and he wanted to press his lips to the spot. To lick it then move up her neck to the sensitive spot under her ear. All the while he’d be removing her clothes until he could lay himself over her and—

  “Oh my God, will you stop that?” The corners of her lips lifted in a smile, the surface wet from having dragged her tongue over them.

  “Stop what?” He could picture her. Naked and open before him. Lying back on the couch, one foot up, her pussy—

  A needy sound escaped her. “I’m going to explode if you keep looking at me like that.”

  He tore his gaze away, glancing down the hall. All was quiet on the kiddie front. Didn’t mean it would stay that way, but to hell with it. A little clean fooling around would ease his cravings until they were really alone.

  Troy shot to his feet and closed the distance between them, dropping onto the couch beside her. “Here. I’ll sit where you can’t see my face.”

  He clicked on the TV, changed it to some renovation show, and adjusted the volume so it wouldn’t disturb the kids.

  “Troy?”

  He stretched his arm along the top of the couch behind her. “I changed my mind. We’ll talk later. Watch the show,” he ordered.

  Nic wiggled briefly, but slowly relaxed, leaning her body against his. She lowered a hand to his thigh, eyes locked on the screen.

  Troy leaned over and nuzzled the side of her neck. “I love how soft you are here,” he whispered. “No, keep your eyes on the show. I’m going to touch you, and you’re going keep facing the TV, no matter what.”

  A shiver shook her the slightest bit, and he reined in the urge to shout his approval. Perfect woman. So fucking perfect for him.

  He caught her earlobe between his teeth and bit down before dragging it into his mouth. Teasing her ear with his tongue until her fingers tightened on his thigh and she squirmed in place.

  “Can I—?”

  “No,” he whispered. “No talking. No questions. Just feel.”

  He grabbed her shirt, tugging the fabric free to press his palm to her warm belly. Stroking in circles as he moved in on her lips. Kissing her again, accepting her mouth moving under his and the little gasps of pleasure and her moan of approval as he pushed her bra out of the way to get at her breast.

  She snuck her hand farther into his lap. An innocent enough move, but completely on purpose. Her lips curved into a smile he felt against his mouth.

  Especially when the pressure of her palm increased, rubbing vertically over his rock-solid length.

  “Minx,” he muttered, but it was too good to order her to stop. So they sat there, blue light of the TV flickering in the background as they made out on the couch like two teenage kids afraid to go any further.

  Hands caressing, teeth nipping. Little groans escaping as they adjusted position over and over, never enough and yet all they could—

  The back door rattled, and they scrambled apart, the teenage sensation far too realistic.

  “I’m home. Nicole? Did I see your car out there? Troy? Everything okay?”

  Jodie’s voice, ergo Jodie, was getting closer far too quickly.

  “We’re here in the living room. No troubles,” Nic called.

  Giggles escaped as she fought to straighten her clothes, which set Troy laughing silently as he attempted to help her and just got in the way. She batted at his hands, so he bounced to his feet, wishing like hell he’d thought to grab a pillow to hold in front of him as Nic’s sister rounded the corner and took in the scene, storm clouds forming instantly on her face.

  “What exactly is going on here?” Ice dripped from every word.

  Troy hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to answer, so he kind of ignored the question and instead went into a recap. “Kids went down fine about thirty minutes ago. Dahlia didn’t finish her supper, but she drank her entire bottle, and all of them brushed their teeth. Well, I helped Dahlia. No troubles at all to report.”

  Jodie stared for a moment before stomping down the hall without a word to peek into the kids’ rooms.

  Nic joined him at his side, her clothing finally back in place, and she squeezed his fingers briefly, opening her mouth to share with her sister. �
�I got here about—”

  “One sec,” Jodie interrupted, turning to face Troy, her expression unreadable. “Thanks for watching them. I’d like to talk to my sister, if you don’t mind.”

  Troy shrugged. “No prob.”

  “Alone.”

  Nicole sighed. “Go on, I’ll meet you outside,” she whispered at Troy.

  “You going to get grounded?” he whispered back. “I’ll stay and take my punishment with you.”

  She tapped him with her elbow toward the door, the weight of Jodie’s disapproval rising by the minute. “Go. It’ll just be a minute.”

  There was not much he could do, so he stepped outside, but not out of earshot, dismay rising as Jodie let loose the instant he was out of sight.

  “I can’t believe you would do this.” Jodie’s horror and disgust was clear, even in the hushed tones.

  “What did we do?” Nic demanded. “You’re overreacting. We weren’t rolling around naked, having sex on the floor. There was nothing shocking happening that would’ve warped the kids if they’d gotten out of bed.”

  “But you were supposed to be babysitting,” her sister whispered furiously. “That means staying attentive and keeping your clothes on.”

  “My clothes were on,” Nic said. Jodie must have given her a look or something because Nic caved. “Okay, fine, mostly on.”

  “Just go home,” Jodie snapped.

  A low growl escaped Nicole. “Are you telling me every time the kids are in bed, you’re attentive one hundred percent of the time?”

  “It’s different when you’re babysitting.”

  Nic refused to drop it. “And you never ever take your clothes off when the kids are asleep?” Dead silence before Nic made a rude noise. “I feel damn sorry for Dale, and I have no idea how you got pregnant three times—”

  “That’s enough. I’ve had enough of you, and I’ve had more than enough of that…Troy. Get out of here.”

  Troy waited until she joined him, slipping his fingers into hers and guiding her toward her car. Silence hovered as they stood there, her door open, night air swirling around them.

  Nic let out a huge sigh.

  Troy’s guilt did double time. Everything that had been amusing about the situation vanished. “I’m sorry.”