Coming In Hot (Jupiter Point Book 6)

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Coming In Hot (Jupiter Point Book 6) Page 14

by Jennifer Bernard


  "I guess you're just a mutt like the rest of us low-lifes."

  "I like mutts. And dogs of all kinds." She pulled a teasing face at him. "Just don't tell Aiden."

  "Have you thought about getting a dog in place of Dragon?"

  "I can't, the poor thing would be stuck inside this tiny house all day while I teach. But of course I've thought about it," she admitted. "Having Dragon around was…I loved it. Closest thing I've had to a family in ten years. God, what's in this ham? Something's making me jabber on like an idiot."

  "Maybe all that great sex loosened your tongue."

  She stuck out her tongue at him. "I may never have sex again, in that case. It turned me into a blabbermouth."

  "Now you're just being mean." He planted his forearms on the counter and leaned toward her, narrowing his eyes. "And unrealistic. It would take an asteroid hitting this house to stop us from having sex again."

  He caught her quick shiver of reaction.

  "Water?" she asked.

  "Sure." Deflection. He was sure of it.

  She pulled two glasses from a cupboard and filled them from the faucet, then handed one to him. Before he took a sip from it, he said, "There's something I've been wondering. How did you get into the field you're in? Art history?"

  She drank half her glass, then set it down on the counter and climbed back onto her stool. "This might sound rather random. And seriously, are you sure you want me to keep talking? I've been going nonstop since we got out of bed."

  "I love to hear you talk. Consider it more foreplay, because watching your mouth move, and all those interesting words come out of it, mm-mmmm. It's a turn-on, babe."

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder and planted her elbow on the counter, pinning him with a provocative under-her-eyelashes look. "You know what's a real turn-on? You listening to me say all those words. Makes me want to lick up one side of you and down the other. Then I want to find that spot right in the middle where your gorgeous shaft is waiting for me. That big, thick, hot—"

  "Okay, okay, you win." He shifted uncomfortably on his stool, because that big thick cock she mentioned was getting bigger and thicker with each word. "Let's just agree that you can get me turned on without hardly trying. Now back to the question."

  She sighed and abandoned her flirty position. "Fine. I told you that we had our own school at the Light Keepers, right? We had math and English, stuff like that. No science or history, unless it was religious history. I don't know how it happened, but one of the books in our tiny school collection was about Italian art. It had an angel by Raphael on the cover, so somehow it slipped past the teachers. However, most of the photos in the book did not show paintings of angels."

  "Let me guess. A bunch of old men in red velvet hats?"

  "No." She lowered her voice, as if sharing a naughty secret. "They had naked people. Botticelli's Venus on her clamshell. A photo of Michelangelo's David, without a trace of a fig leaf. I saw his penis. You have no idea how revolutionary that was for me."

  Tobias felt his own penis swelling in response to her story. Was that pathetic, that merely hearing her mention the word "penis" got him aroused?

  "I found that book when I was thirteen or so. I was dying of curiosity about my own body, and no one would tell me anything. That book was like a lifeline to another world. In that book, bodies weren't secret or shameful somehow. I memorized that book. Every word, every photo. I can't even really explain what it meant to me, except it felt like home. Maybe I was Mona Lisa in a previous lifetime." She ended on a light note and dipped a finger in the mustard that had dripped onto her plate. She touched it to her tongue.

  He wanted that tongue on his cock so badly, his eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed his glass of water and downed it. She smiled innocently at him. Most likely, she had no idea what a powerful effect she had on him.

  “I have my master’s degree,” she continued, “which was enough to get hired at JPCC, but I’ve stalled out on my doctorate. I love the teaching part, looking at those beautiful paintings. You know back then, they were just coming out of the Dark Ages. Discovering science and rational thinking, moving away from superstition. I think I connected with that as well. But mostly, with that first book I saw, it was the naked people that got me interested.”

  She gave his bare chest a suggestive once-over. "And now I have one in my very own living room."

  "Okay, last question. Are you done eating yet? Because I'm all fueled up and ready to go, and you're still picking at that plate of food like it has to last all year."

  "It's good to eat slowly. You just shoveled yours right down your throat. That's not healthy."

  "Eat fast, fuck slow, that's my motto."

  A satisfying blush crept up her cheeks. "Do you always talk like that?"

  "I can be refined if I have to." He put on a British accent he'd learned while stationed in England. Whenever he used it, he sounded like an old British grande dame, like Judi Dench or Maggie Smith. It used to make his fellow pilots roll on the floor with laughter. "Dah-ling, this ham and brie is absolutely divine. Now I do hope you're nearly finished, dah-ling, as my cock has swollen to the size of an overstuffed sausage and I would very much like to put it in you."

  She burst out laughing. "Is that so?"

  "Indeed it is, young miss. Jolly good, upsy-daisy now. Up with you and off with your clothes. You've been a naughty girl, young miss, and naughty girls belong in one place only. That would be my bed."

  "I have not been a naughty girl," she pointed out. "And that bed is mine."

  "Enough of this tiresome quibbling." He wrestled with the smile that wanted to take over his face. The accent cracked him up as much as it did anyone else. "Why must the common people make everything so difficult? Christmas Eve, and all I want is a jolly good fuck. Is that so much to ask?"

  Still laughing helplessly, Carolyn grabbed her phone and held it up so he could see the time. "No more Christmas Eve sex for you. It's Christmas."

  They both went still for a moment. Quiet settled around them. He pictured the little town of Jupiter Point, all tucked in for the night, the ring of foothills rising toward the towering mountain range to the east. Acres and miles of forests and wilderness, stretching to the far horizon. To the west, the cliffs, the waterfront, Pacific Ocean, a moonlit path across endless waves.

  And right in the middle, him and Carolyn. Wrapped up together in silence.

  "Oh holy night," he murmured.

  A smile shimmered across her face. "Is it?"

  "It is to me," he said firmly. He got to his feet, rounded the counter and drew her off her stool. "There's no place I'd rather be than right here. With you."

  This time, when they came together in her bed, it felt different. Almost sacred, as if the newborn day cast a spell around them. Afterwards, falling asleep in her arms, a sense of quiet joy filtered through him, lightening the shadows in his heart.

  19

  Christmas was probably the toughest day of the year for Carolyn. When she was younger, she'd missed her mother terribly on Christmas. After she left the Light Keepers, the day became even lonelier. She'd gotten into the habit of volunteering somewhere on Christmas Day—a soup kitchen, a homeless shelter, wherever help was needed. This year, she'd offered to help Suzanne Marshall at the Star Bright Shelter for Teens, which offered a temporary home for runaways.

  The Knight brothers were having their first Christmas together in years, now that both Tobias and Ben were out of the military. She had to admit that a sense of sharp envy filled her as he walked away, down her little walkway, past thorny winter rosebushes.

  He was heading for his family, while she was alone. As always.

  But she was completely wrong, as it turned out. Suzanne had recruited more friends and practically the entire crew of Jupiter Point hotshots.

  Her husband, Josh, and their little daughter Faith, now a boisterous toddler, were helping out—in Faith's case, by sampling pie dough by the handful. Rollo Wareham and his fiancée Brianna
Gallagher, and Lisa Peretti and her boyfriend Finn Abrams were peeling potatoes, chopping up vegetables, arguing about how long turkey should be cooked, tossing big bowls of winter greens. Evie and Sean Marcus, who were with Evie's parents, had sent a gigantic basket filled with oranges and figs and chocolates.

  About twenty kids lived at the shelter; all had left home for dire reasons that Carolyn didn't know about. All she knew was that they were away from their families, and she knew exactly how that felt. She'd left because she wanted to, but being away from her father and stepmother left a big hole in her heart. Especially on Christmas.

  But this Christmas, for the first time, she wasn't quite as sad. She could still feel Tobias’s big warm body next to hers, his hand resting on her hip when they woke up that morning. His rumbling voice wishing her Merry Christmas, the sweet kisses he landed on her jaw to wake her up.

  Shelter from the storm, that was Tobias. In his arms, she felt safe in a way she hadn't since she was a kid.

  "What are you thinking about? You look like the cat who ate the cream," Suzanne said as she kept one eye on Faith, the other on the pie crust she was rolling out.

  "Oh, nothing. Just that it's nice to be here. I'm glad we're giving these kids a party today."

  "Oh, pssssht. You can't fool me. You look different. This isn't about Christmas, it's about a man. Don't even try to deny it."

  Brianna butted in from the opposite side of the long wooden table, where she was slicing up beets she'd brought from her own root cellar. Brianna was a landscaper and gardener. A green thumb and red hair—a Christmas package all on her own. "Don't drive her away with your nosiness, Suzanne. We need her or we'll never get all those potatoes peeled."

  Carolyn laughed; Brianna was known for her bluntness, also known as tactlessness. But everyone knew she had a heart of gold. Especially Rollo, the banking billionaire turned firefighter who had fallen in love with her. Brianna liked to refer to Rollo and herself as the prince and the peasant girl.

  If she and Tobias were in a fairy tale, which one would it be? Carolyn mulled that over. Maybe Hansel and Gretel, each cast out from their childhood homes, lost in their own wilderness.

  She smiled at the silly thought. Fairy tales were just stories. They had nothing to do with reality.

  "Okay, that smile. Something's going on with that smile." Suzanne tossed her long lemony hair over one shoulder. Maybe Suzanne was Rapunzel, with that long hair. Hadn't she been rescued from the roof of her house, when it burned down?

  "Sorry, I was thinking about fairy tales," said Carolyn, shaking herself back to attention.

  "Good ones, I hope," said Suzanne. "Some of them are terrifying. I got a collection from Fifth Book from the Sun that nearly scared my socks off. No way am I going to read them to Faith."

  "You should," said Carolyn soberly. "Kids get it. They know about monsters. Fairy tales help them understand." She looked up to see the other women staring at her. "What?"

  "You sound like there's a story there," said Lisa softly.

  Carolyn looked away, embarrassed. She knew these women because they were friends of Merry's. But they didn't know her whole story; not even Merry did. They were all friendly and lovely, but she had no idea how they'd react to knowing she used to be the poster child of a fringe pseudo-religious militia.

  Josh, Rollo and Finn came strolling over. They were all hotshots or former hotshots, which meant they fought wildfires during the summers. In the offseason they got some time to relax, in between helping out the local fire department and reconnecting with their families.

  Josh, the playful one of the crew, picked up his wife Suzanne's hand and twirled her around in a dance move. "Big news, everyone," he called to the group. "Kids, gather 'round. I have a story to tell you about a little thing called a wicket."

  The teenagers, a mix of girls and boys, black and white, Latino and Asian, crowded into the kitchen. "What's a wicket, Josh?" asked a boy balancing on crutches. A bruise purpled his cheek; it made Carolyn's heart ache.

  "I'm so glad you asked. A wicket, my friends, is something you use in a game called croquet. The famous Knight brothers happen to own a set. Y'all know the Knight brothers, who run that flightseeing service with the little planes?"

  Carolyn felt a full-body flush sweep through her at the mention of the brothers.

  "They just called me and challenged us to a match. The winning team gets a free flight along the coast. What do you guys say? Do we accept the challenge?"

  Everyone cheered, the kids jumping up and down and clapping. Everyone except Carolyn, who was frozen with joy. Tobias was going to be here after all?

  She fanned her face, which had gone hot and pink, and just happened to catch Suzanne's eye. Her blond friend winked at her, as if she knew exactly what Carolyn was thinking.

  So much for discretion.

  Then again, did it really matter? Was there something wrong with her and Tobias engaging in a mature, adult, X-rated affair? No, not at all. Was there something wrong with people knowing about it?

  Half an hour later, the Knight brothers arrived in Tobias’s Land Rover, pulling into the driveway with an emphatic screech of brakes. Watching through the kitchen window, Carolyn felt her heartbeat spike as they jumped out of the vehicle. Never step when you can jump—that could have been a Knight family motto, from what she'd seen.

  They were such a physical family. The combination of the four of them was like a neutron bomb of sexy. Will, the oldest, tall and gray-eyed, his every move like a slow drawl. Ben had the most carefree appeal, his lips already curved around a joke. Aiden, the baby of the family, the ultimate surfer kid with his blond bedhead.

  And then there was Tobias. If you could distill the core appeal of the Knight brothers to one man, you would get Tobias. Independent thinker, rebellious, fierce, strong, protector of the vulnerable and champion of the misfit. That was Tobias.

  The teenagers knew it, too. As the kids gathered around to meet the brothers, Carolyn kept sneaking glances in between peeling carrots. Their voices drifted into the kitchen, introductions, laughter. She noticed how they flocked to Tobias, even though he was the scariest looking of the bunch. His aura of "don't-give-a-fuck" power paired with a core of deep-down kindness—kids picked up on that kind of thing.

  He was especially kind to the boy on crutches, the one with the bruise. He gave his cast a thumbs up and offered to team up with him on the croquet field. Her heart pulsed as she watched him. How could such a powerful-looking man be such a softy inside?

  The men she'd known at the Light Keepers weren't like this. They liked to control things, they wanted wives who would do their bidding. They didn't consider a teenager worth listening to, especially a female teenager. Listening and kindness were considered women's work; men were supposed to be deferred to in all situations.

  Fortunately, Tobias’s similarities to the men from the compound were only on the surface. He relied on his physical strength, his power, as they did. He knew his weapons, just like the Brigade men, but that was because he was former military. But he was different in some fundamental ways. For example, he respected her. He treated her like an equal.

  She turned back to her task and shook off all thoughts of the Light Keepers. What she and Tobias shared had nothing to do with them. The past was over and gone.

  A deep voice spoke in her ear. "I pick you for my team."

  Tobias. She swung around, feeling a rush of delight at his nearness. He held a covered roasting pan and sported a freshly shaven face and a big grin. "I'm not playing. I've got carrots to peel."

  "We can help." Aiden stepped to Tobias’s side, glancing from one to the other of them. He didn't seem worried about whatever was going on between his former teacher and his big brother.

  "Hi Aiden. Merry Christmas."

  He gave her an innocent smile. "Merry Christmas to you. May the angels smile upon you."

  She laughed. "I have a feeling I'll never live that down."

  "That's a good bet. Knight
brothers never miss an opportunity for teasing."

  "You be nice, or I'll start smoking again," Tobias told his little brother in a stern voice, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Aiden made a disgusted face at him.

  "Where's Merry? How's the family Christmas going?"

  "Merry took her mother to the airport. She has a gig tomorrow," Tobias explained.

  "And we decided that we wanted to share the Knight family love," added Aiden with a grin. "Merry got us this croquet set as a joke, but we plan to conquer the world with it. Starting here."

  Tobias put the roasting pan on the long table. "We brought some our traditional Knight family Mustard Roast Potatoes. Garlic, mustard, oregano, olive oil—best potatoes you ever tasted. Aiden practically cried when we decided to bring them here.”

  "I did not." Aiden scowled at him. "I simply made the point that some people don’t like potatoes and it would make more sense to bring the fruitcake Aunt Mary sent us."

  Tobias made a secret face of disgust for Carolyn's benefit. "Some of the candied fruit literally looks like bioluminescent mold. We didn't want to scare anyone."

  "So." Aiden's smile dropped and he fixed Carolyn with a challenging glance. "You and my brother."

  She folded her arms across her chest, trying to hide her panic. "Mmm, hmm?"

  "You probably know by now that our father is dead. So we like to watch out for each other."

  Tobias shot Aiden a warning look. "Where are you going with this?"

  "You hauled your nosy ass to Evergreen, now it’s my turn."

  "That was different," Tobias growled.

  "I don't see how." Aiden pushed back the sleeves of his sweater, looking unnervingly businesslike. "First of all, let me say that I already know my grade, or I would not be daring to have this conversation."

 

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