Grin and Beard It (Winston Brothers #2)

by Penny Reid

  “You—” I took a moment to sort through her words, picking out the actionable items. “You want more, and you want it more often, and you don’t care about privacy.”

  “I care about privacy, but not to the point where we do nothing because someone might overhear. And I don’t want to lose you.”

  I shook my head at this last bit. But then remembered again she couldn’t see me.

  “I wish we weren’t having this conversation in the dark,” I mumbled as I climbed back into the bed of the truck. I pulled my fingers from her grip, found her hot chocolate, and tossed it into the grass.

  “I know I can be pushy,” she said, still explaining herself. “I have these big feelings for you and they make me clumsy. When I couldn’t do anything with them, it made me sad. Everything about what I feel for you is new to me. I don’t know what I’m doing. I know the celebrity thing is a headache, already a lot to deal with, I didn’t and I don’t want to push you—”

  “You’re not going to push me away,” I whispered firmly, easing her back on the sleeping bags. I gripped her wrists, holding them trapped on either side of her as I planked above. I fit my knee between her legs, but applied no pressure. “And you being a celebrity isn’t going to scare me off. I know I’ll have to share you, I know. And I’m coming to terms with it. I want to be someone who builds you up, not someone you have to worry over. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “You have to trust me. I trusted you, when you said this thing between us wasn’t temporary. No amount of celebrity headaches or you telling me how you feel is going to send me running.”

  How could she think that?

  Sienna gathered a deep breath, her breasts pressing against my chest for the barest of moments. “I won’t ask you to cross your line.”

  “I appreciate that, but you should know—”

  “But I will do things that make keeping your vow difficult. And I might or might not do them on purpose.”

  I smiled. Despite the anxiety and worry in her tone, her last statement sounded like a threat.

  A sexy and enticing threat.

  I lowered to sweep a quick kiss over her lips. “I look forward to these things you might or might not do on purpose. Thank you for warning me. Now you got to promise me that you won’t be afraid, that you’ll tell me what you’re thinking, no matter what.”

  “I promise.” She made the promise on a sigh, and I felt the tension ease where I held her wrists.

  I kissed her once more, sucking her bottom lip between mine. I loved how she tasted, sweetness and sunshine.

  “Good,” I said, then sat up on my knees and grabbed the pillows lining the left side of the bed. “Now, let’s get going.”

  “Uh . . . we’re going?”

  “Yes. No need to fold up the sleeping bags.” I stood and jumped down to the ground, crossing back to the driver’s side door. “We can just stuff them in the back.”

  She grabbed the side rail and shimmied over, as close as she could get to me while still kneeling in the truck bed. “So, now you don’t want my papaya?” She sounded confused and aggrieved.

  I chuckled. “Oh, no. I very much want your papaya. And I want you sitting on my face while I take my time with your papaya, like you promised.”

  “Then why are we leaving?”

  “Because your bed back at the cabin will be more comfortable than these sleeping bags. And if I need to get used to people being around to hear your screams of ecstasy,” I shrugged, unable to contain my grin, “then we might as well get started right now.”

  ***

  We made it back to the cabin in record time and I had papaya before going to bed.

  Then I stayed the night and held her.

  And then I had papaya again before breakfast.

  Best. Papaya. Ever.

  But it was more. She was more. So much more. Was it because of five years of celibacy or because of the woman herself? Has to be the woman. How had she doubted my feelings for her? Pleasing her—my woman—cherishing her, loving her had no comparison. Satisfaction, desire, fulfillment were woefully inadequate words. So responsive. So incredible. So . . . mine.

  I drifted downstairs with a big smile on my face after 10:00 a.m., leaving Sienna in her room. She was asleep again. Naked. Leaving her had been difficult, but I knew she’d wake up hungry. My plan was to drive over to Daisy’s Nut House, pick up doughnuts and caffeine before she woke up, then keep her in bed all day. Naked.

  But the smell and sounds of freshly brewing coffee had me stopping in my tracks as I passed the kitchen.

  I glanced inside. Dave and Tim were sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. I spotted an open box of doughnuts on the counter. Chances were, both Dave and Tim had heard Sienna last night. Likely, they’d also heard her this morning.

  So I walked into the kitchen.

  “Hey, these doughnuts spoken for? Or can I steal a few?”

  Dave looked up from his paper and didn’t appear even a little bit surprised to see me. “No, no. Take as many as you want.”

  “Yeah. We picked up extra on purpose. From the sound of things, you two are probably hungry,” Tim added, giving me a knowing smile.

  It wasn’t lascivious.

  It was just knowing.

  I didn’t mind. In fact, I liked that he knew. I decided everyone should know.

  Meanwhile, Dave hit Tim in the back of the head. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What?”

  “That was rude.”

  “What? What did I say?”

  “He doesn’t want you talking about her that way and neither do I.”

  Tim dropped the paper he was reading and tossed his hands in the air. “I didn’t say anything.”

  I grinned at their bickering; it reminded me of my brothers. “No, no. It’s fine. Tim didn’t say anything untoward.”

  Dave narrowed his eyes on me. “He needs to learn respect.”

  “But she’s loud with Jethro. A woman isn’t that loud unless she’s having the time of her life. She’s got to be starving. That’s all I’m saying,” Tim tried to explain again, which only served to piss Dave off more and make me laugh harder.

  “Jesus Christ, Tim. Shut your fucking mouth.” Dave hit him again.

  “Watch your language, New Jersey.” Tim swatted Dave’s hand away.

  Dave moved to smack him again but stopped when the sound of the front door opening pulled our collective attention away from the hole Tim had been digging. I looked at Dave. He looked at me. All three of us moved for the foyer.

  But the tension left me when I heard Hank Weller’s voice call, “Hey. Anyone home?”

  “We’re back here,” Tim hollered back, releasing a relieved breath, taking his seat again.

  Dave also stopped and his shoulders relaxed, though he whispered to me, “I know it’s his cabin and all, but I don’t like how he lets himself in. How can I keep her safe if people drop in unannounced?”

  “He comes by?”

  He nodded. “He used to call and she’d beg off, say she was too busy. So he started coming by unannounced, at least once a week for the last month.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s just like the rest of them.” Dave gave me a single eyebrow lift, his tone telling me everything I needed to know.

  I crossed my arms as Hank appeared in the doorway, watched as the expectant smile on his face wavered when he caught sight of me.

  “Jethro.”

  “Hank.”

  He straightened, his eyes narrowing as they took in my bare feet, jeans with no belt, and white T-shirt. “What are you doing here?” Hank asked.

  “Making Sienna scream,” Tim mumbled too low for anyone but me to hear.

  “What was that?” Hank looked between the two of us.

  “Nothing.” Dave glared at Tim, apparently he’d also heard the big man’s mumble, then pointed to the kitchen counter. “Do you want some coffee? We just made some.”

 
; “Uh, sure.” Hank made a show of looking around the kitchen and then sidestepping and glancing over his shoulder to the living room. “Where’s Sienna?”

  Tim started, “She’s—”

  “She’s still asleep.”

  Hank’s eyes widened, his eyebrows jumping high on his forehead. “Still asleep? It’s past ten.”

  “So it is.” I nodded once.

  My business partner inspected me again. “She never sleeps past seven, let alone ten.”

  I didn’t like that he knew when Sienna slept, so I allowed an edge of irritation in my voice as I put the question to him, “Why’re you keeping tabs on Sienna’s sleep habits, Hank?”

  My business partner stepped fully into the kitchen and mimicked my stance. “Why’re you here, Jethro?”

  Dave cleared his throat and tapped Tim on the shoulder. “I think we’ll finish our breakfast in the, uh, other room.”

  Tim grabbed his coffee cup, newspaper, and half-eaten doughnut and followed Dave out of the kitchen, leaving Hank and me swapping glares.

  Neither of us spoke for a full minute or more, likely because we both already knew the answer to each other’s question.

  Finally, Hank asked, “You decided to ignore my advice?”

  The fact Hank was the first to break the silence was unsurprising. He’d always been impatient, too curious for his own good.

  “Did you give me advice?” I leaned my hip against the kitchen counter.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” He crossed to the coffee maker and poured a cup, giving me his profile. “When she leaves you in the dust, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I studied the unhappy curve of his mouth, saw he believed his own words. “Why are you really here, Hank?”

  “Same as you, I suspect. I like her. She’s beautiful. She makes me laugh. She tells great stories. She makes me feel good.” He turned to look at me, blowing steam from the coffee cup and taking a sip before adding, “Except, Sienna and I are friends. When she leaves, I’ll still know her. Whereas, you . . .” He shrugged, his eyes full of sympathy.

  “Hey. Is there any coffee left?”

  Both Hank and I turned toward the entrance to the kitchen. Sienna stood just inside the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She wore a black silk bathrobe that covered just as much as it showed, and based on what it showed I was pretty sure she was naked beneath it.

  Without waiting for us to respond, she walked into the kitchen and headed directly to where I stood. When she reached me, she wrapped her arms around my neck, pressed her body to mine, and placed a sweet kiss on my mouth, nibbling my top lip as she pulled away. I grabbed her waist before she could retreat too far and confirmed my earlier suspicion. She was naked under the robe.

  I fought a groan. I also fought the urge to sweep her in my arms and carry her back upstairs. Her tits were built for my hands. The idea of unwrapping her from the black silk had my blood pumping thick and urgent. She might not mind the caveman display, but I wanted Hank and everyone else to see I was nothing but confident where Sienna Diaz was concerned.

  “I love that mouth,” she said with a sleepy grin, her eyes on my lips as she pressed her thumb to my chin. “And I love this beard.” She kissed my chin. “And I love this nose.” She kissed my nose. “And I love this neck.” She kissed my neck, her body inadvertently sliding against mine.

  I kept my eyes studiously forward, but didn’t hide my satisfied grin. In my side vision I could see Hank gawking at us.

  “There’s still coffee.” I pushed her rich, chestnut hair from her face and angled her chin so I could steal another kiss. “Or we could take these doughnuts and head back to bed.”

  “Look at you, smartest man alive.” She pushed on my shoulder playfully. “When we’re in L.A., every Saturday will be spent in this way. I demand it.”

  Hank cleared his throat. Actually, he choked on a sip of coffee.

  Sienna’s head whipped toward the sound, her eyes wide, her mouth parted in surprise, and she gasped. “Hank. Crap. Geeze. I didn’t see you. Sorry.” She pressed closer to me, turning me slightly so my body hid hers.

  “No, no. I’m sorry. I should have, uh, I should have called first.” He waved away her apology, his gaze flickering to mine. His held speculation and maybe a hint of awe. “In fact, I would have called, but I was cleaning out the shower drain at the strip club, and you’ll never guess what disgusting thing I found.”

  Sienna sighed tiredly but gave him a patient smile, tugging me by the fabric of my shirt toward the stairs. “I’m tired of games, Hank. Even that one. Is there anything else? Did this month’s payment go through? For the rent?”

  Hank nodded, looking sufficiently dumbfounded and maybe even a little contrite. “Uh, yeah. It cleared last week. There’s nothing else.”

  “Good,” she said, then to me, “Grab the doughnuts, I’ll meet you upstairs.”

  Sienna gave me a quick kiss and a sly grin, lowering her lashes, heat and promise in her eyes. Then she turned and skipped lightly on her feet out of the kitchen. My last glimpse of her retreating form was her full, round backside draped in black silk.

  I exhaled. It wasn’t a loud exhale, but it was necessary. Because that woman took my breath away.

  The kitchen descended into weighty silence. I counted to ten before sliding my eyes to Hank’s.

  “Well, I’ll be.” He shook his head, looking at me with unveiled wonder. “Jethro Whitman Winston, I’m impressed.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hank Herman Weller.” I’m pretty sure my smile was as arrogant as it was pleased.

  “No. Really. I’m impressed. I never thought I’d see Sienna . . .”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought she’d always be single, never get serious with anyone.”

  “Even with you?” I asked, because it was a question that needed asking. Hank seemed stunned, but if he was jealous he was hiding it well.

  His gaze when hazy as he considered my question. “Honestly? No. Not even with me. We don’t suit, we didn’t in college and we don’t suit now.” His eyes refocused on me. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d switch places with you in a second. I’d be a fool not to.” He grinned, and quickly added, “But if she was going to tie herself down, settle, I’m happy it’s with you. You two, you’re good people. You deserve each other.”

  “I appreciate that, Hank.” I was surprised but pleased I didn’t have to deal with jealousy where he was concerned.

  He was my business partner and friend; I’d hate to lose him as either.

  I openly inspected him and I needed to add, “But I have to contradict you on one point. Sienna hasn’t tied herself down, nor has she settled, and neither have I. It doesn’t work that way, not when it’s the right person.”

  “So she’s like Redbull? She gives you wings?” He lifted a teasing eyebrow.

  I shook my head. “More like she’s the sun, and she makes every minute better than the last.”

  His grin waned, an expression of skepticism and confusion on his face.

  I chuckled. “Don’t worry, one of these days you’ll understand.” I reached for the box on the counter and moved to follow my woman. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I can’t forget the doughnuts.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “Things are sweeter when they're lost.”

  ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned

  ~Sienna~

  Jethro took me to Daisy’s Nut House for our eighth date.

  We arrived to a sign that read, Closed for a Private Party. He’d bought out the entire restaurant. It was just Jethro, Daisy, and me, and a candlelit dinner for two of hamburgers, steak fries, hot sauce, and milkshakes.

  He’d suggested a booth in the back, but I requested the diner counter. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been able to sit in a restaurant at the diner counter. It felt so brazen to be out in the open, like I was on display with no consequences. The words magnificently liberatin
g came to mind.

  Sitting beside me on a stool, Jethro watched me with a wry expression as I added a generous amount of sriracha to my Swiss and mushroom burger.

  “What?” I squeezed the sriracha out in a smiley face shape on top of the burger patty.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, still grinning, still watching me in a way that had my stomach and heart doing gymnastics.

  “No. Tell me. What is it?”

  He hesitated for just a second before saying, “It’s just, I like that you eat hot sauce because it means you can handle surprises in your mouth.”

  I squinted at him. He probably thought the statement was funny, or shocking, or cute, or all three. Admittedly, he was right. It was funny, shocking, and cute—but only coming from him. Jethro’s flirting was typically light and teasing, respectful. He was so rarely lewd. Well, apart from when we were in bed. Thus, I kinda liked his lewd flirting. It felt special, like he reserved it just for me.

  Jethro and his layers, one of which was apparently thinking about giving me surprises. In my mouth.

  I waited until he took a bite of his hamburger before I asked, “How do you feel about pop rocks, then?”

  Jethro coughed, his eyes bulging, and he covered his mouth with his napkin. He might have been choking to death on ketchup and laughter. I took this as a sign to continue.

  “Because, if you think hot sauce is a surprise, you should try pop rocks and Coke. I mean, that’s like setting off a bomb of what the fuck did I sign up for inside your mouth.”

  “Stop,” he rasped, reaching for and gulping his water, still laughing and choking.

  I continued to squint at him, but was now grinning widely.

  Tears had formed in his eyes, and he wiped them away, still chuckling. “I promise, I will never surprise your mouth if you promise never to tell a joke when I’ve got food in mine.”

  “Agreed.”

  We shook on it. Instead of letting my hand go, he kept it in his on his thigh, curling his fingers around mine. I couldn’t remember ever holding someone’s hand during a date. It was such a simple, affectionate gesture, as though he couldn’t stand having me close and not touching me.