by RC Boldt
“You should have chosen different shorts,” came their friend’s quick answer.
“Different shorts? What the hell’s wrong with these?”
Miller walked up to join them, beer in hand, looking amused. “Probably because he thinks they don’t make your ass look good.” Turning to Kane, he asked, “Am I right?”
Crossing his arms across his broad chest, Kane grinned. “Exactly.”
Foster snorted with a glare. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me with this shit.”
Miller threw his head back in a laugh. “Trust me, man. I feel your pain. But, believe it or not, he’s actually got a pretty damn good track record.”
“Turn around, Fos. Let me have a look-see.” Lawson twirled his finger around, gesturing for him to turn. “I’ve got to see this for myself.”
Receiving a dark glare in response, he couldn’t restrain his laughter. “Come on, Fos. You don’t want your woman to be denied a great look of your ass, do you?”
“Should’ve worn the other pair. The darker ones.” Kane tsked, shaking his head, as if saddened by Foster’s choice of shorts.
“Jesus, you’re like a bunch of women,” muttered Foster, walking away, mumbling to himself. Turning to watch, he, Kane, and Miller all collectively hmmmm’d.
Lawson nodded at Kane. “Good call. Totally doesn’t show off his best assets.” Smirking, he added, “You like what I did there? Get it? Ass-ets?”
Chuckling, Kane’s hand laid upon his shoulder. “Laws, darlin’. You are my kinda guy.”
He clasped his hands together in a praying pose, closing his eyes reverently. “Thank you, baby Jesus. My life is complete. I am officially Kane Windham’s kind of guy.”
“You and Kane officially a thing now, Laws?” Pearce’s voice called from behind them.
In the process of turning to face his friend, he froze in mid-turn, feeling his own jaw slacken. Because, ho-ly shit.
“What’s the deal, Law—ohhh,” came Kane’s instant response.
Ohhh, was right. As in, ohhh, holy freaking gorgeousness. Because the person standing before him was absolute and utter perfection. The kind of beauty that made you want to reach out and touch it.
“Well, hell. I don’t think Lawson Briggs has ever been at a loss for words before.” Laney’s amused response barely registered, he was so caught up in the view before him.
Whatever the women had done to Langley—or Lee as he liked to call her—had been nothing short of amazing. Not that she hadn’t been attractive from the start. That was decidedly not the case. The women had merely softened some of her rougher edges, enhanced her femininity.
Where she normally had her long brown hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail and never appeared to wear much makeup—if any—usually dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a simple top, this version was considerably different.
Her long hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, her chocolaty brown eyes accentuated with some shadow or liner or whatever they had used to make them stand out more. Dressed in a simple sleeveless sundress that he was certain belonged to Raine, it showcased her toned shoulders and arms. No offense to his sweet friend, but that dress had never looked as good when she wore it. Maybe it was because Lee was taller than Raine, the hemline drawing higher upon her exceptional legs, which were long and tanned.
But the ladies hadn’t stopped at that. Nope. They had to make life even more difficult for him. They just had to make her lips look so perfect and kissable, painting them with some light nude shade with a touch of glossiness, making them appear slick. That combined with everything else made it damn hard—in more ways than one—to resist pushing past everyone else, caging Lee’s body in against the wall, and kissing the hell out of those delectable lips of hers.
He vaguely heard a throat being cleared. “Laws, darlin’. You might want to try and control yourself,” Kane said under his breath, glancing meaningfully toward his crotch.
Shiiiiit.
If that didn’t scream creepy perv, he wasn’t sure what would. It wasn’t like he went around all the time with a hard-on. Uh, that was a firm no.
But this woman? Hell. There was just something about her. Something about her that called to him. And, yeah, he realized exactly how trite that shit sounded.
She had this look in her eyes, at times, that made him want to wrap her up in his arms. A look that was a combination of yearning and fear when she watched his group of friends interact. Like she wished she could have—be included in—their comradery but was deathly afraid of putting herself out there. Those were the times Lawson swore he could see traces of a little, insecure girl; whereas other times, she was one hundred percent ball-buster. And hell, if he didn’t like it.
A lot. Clearly.
“Ahem!” Laney, Raine, and Tate fixed their pointed looks on him and the other men. They snapped to attention, all of them speaking at once.
“Hey, Ford. Lookin’ good, darlin’.” Kane’s drawl was thick, his charming smile in place.
“Ford. Nice to see you again,” came Pearce’s no-nonsense greeting.
“Ford, good to see you.” Miller’s innocuous response was amusing, but he figured it had something to do with him being head over heels in love with his fiancée, who was looking at him equally as googly-eyed. Which would normally have him gagging or even throwing up a little in his mouth. Being around these couples who were obviously so happy and in love could wear on a person, at times.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t thrilled for his friends—he was. It was just that, sometimes, he wondered what all the fuss was about. Wondered if he would ever find that one, special person.
Bleh. Just thinking that made him feel a bit nauseated.
Yet, there was something which drew him to Lee. It had been like that from the start, ever since he’d met her six months ago. Like maybe there was something beneath all the ball-busting, tough exterior that actually yearned for the same things. Like maybe—just maybe—she could be the one to help him find out what all the fuss was about.
“Just going to stand there and ogle me, Briggs?” Her voice drew him from his musings.
Tipping his head to the side thoughtfully, he grinned. “Oh, Lee, I think I just might.” Grin widening, he added, “It’s a mighty fine view to ogle.”
“Maybe you can tone down your little buddy, then,” came her quick response, eyes darting down quickly to his crotch before meeting his gaze again.
Hearing the choked sounds coming from the men beside him, he puffed out his chest, raising his chin. “I’ll have you know, my ‘buddy’ is nothing close to being little.”
“Aaaaand, on that note, I’m outta here,” Pearce immediately announced, walking away to join the others outside on the deck.
“Roger that,” Miller agreed, moving away. Holding his hand out to Tate, he gave her an intimate smile. “Coming with me, T?”
“Always,” was her soft reply.
Kane snapped his fingers, saying, “I’ve gotta talk to Zach about our next surf lesson,” before quickly exiting the house.
“We should probably head out, too,” Laney said while pointedly grabbing Raine’s wrist to begin leading her to the doors out to deck.
Raine sputtered, “B-but wait. I wanted to ask about his cute little nickname for her. Lee. Isn’t that the swee—”
Laney interrupted her, tone forceful, “Later. It’s outside time, Mackenzie.”
In what seemed like a split second, the two of them were alone in the silence of the house. He wasn’t sure he had ever witnessed her appear anything less than self-assured, but standing there, facing each other, she seemed uncertain.
Stepping closer, he watched her eyes widen slightly, as if she, too, felt that … something between them. She watched him warily, stiffening when he raised a hand to slide her dark, silky hair over one shoulder, smoothing it back to bare her tanned skin. Allowing his fingertips to lightly graze over the top of her exposed shoulder, he heard her slight intake of breath, saw the tiny go
ose bumps appear on her smooth skin.
“What are you doing, Briggs?” Her voice sounded mostly the same as always—controlled. Yet, he swore he also detected a hint of breathlessness.
Or maybe it was wishful thinking.
“I have no clue, Lee,” he answered honestly, giving a rough sounding laugh. Sobering, he added, “I just felt this urge—like I absolutely had to touch you. Because, for once, you seem so unbelievably touchable.”
She let out a humorless laugh, deprecation in it obvious. “Because I look all girly? That’s why you’re all turned on?”
He knew what she was asking, what she was trying to do, and knew he had to set her straight right then. Closing the remaining distance between them, her back against the wall, his arms braced on either side of her, he bent his head to her ear and whispered, “That’s only part of it. The truth of the matter is that you turn me on regardless of how you look.” When his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, he couldn’t resist a smile when she shivered. “I’m pretty sure you turn me on simply by breathing.”
He felt gratification run through him at hearing her breath come out in a rush. “There’s just something about you, Lee. Something that makes me want to shove you up against this wall and have my way with you.”
His lips dusted along the line of her graceful neck. “Other times, I want to wrap you in my arms and hold you. Protect you from whatever demons you have.” He chuckled softly, breath washing over her skin, cutting off the response he knew was coming. “I know, I know. You don’t need that. You don’t seem to need anything … or anyone. But hell, if I don’t still want to be the one person you do need.”
Inhaling deeply, breathing in her intoxicating scent that was simply her, he backed away slowly, arms dropping from around her. Eyeing her carefully, he held out his arm. “Shall we, milady?”
His breath held as she hesitated, but when she finally reached out to link her arm through his, it came out in a silent whoosh. Patting her fingers lightly, he imitated a John Wayne voice. “You stick with me, Lee, and I’ll take good care of you, lass.”
When she huffed out a breath, giving him the typical eye roll, it didn’t faze him at all. Nope.
What did faze him, what made his heartbeat speed up, gave him the slightest bit of hope, made him feel like he had hit the lottery, had been in the split second before she had given him that eye roll.
Because those beautiful eyes of hers? They had done something they never did, something unusual.
They had crinkled slightly at the corners. And while that might seem completely inconsequential to the average person, for Langley Ford, it was monumental. Because she never truly smiled. Not enough to actually reach her eyes.
But, just then, in their friend’s beach house, he had somehow managed to break through her hardened defenses, to wiggle his way in a little bit. Had managed to make her give the tiniest hint of a real smile.
And, that, right there, gave him hope.
C
HAPTER FIVE
Langley
Eight years old
“Langley Ford! Did you eat my cereal?”
As soon as I heard Regina’s voice ring out in our small house, I cringed. I had been so hungry—since I hadn’t eaten dinner the night before—that I’d eaten a bowl of her cereal earlier that morning. All because I’d wanted to save up my money, which I normally used to buy food, for the extra school supplies I needed for an upcoming project I had due for my Social Studies class.
Since it was coming up to the weekend, I knew I wouldn’t have an opportunity to earn extra money since our small-town library, where I re-shelved books, was closed on the weekends. Why the heck did colored pencils, construction paper, and glitter have to be so darn expensive? I could’ve gotten a loaf of bread and some of the good peanut butter for a fraction of that.
Taking a deep breath, and bracing myself to brave the onslaught I knew was headed my way, I exited my bedroom, to find Regina—the woman who was supposed to be my mother but sure as heck never acted like one—standing, hands on her hips, staring back at me angrily.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Didn’t I tell you that until your good for nothing self contributes to this household, you need to stop eating all my food?” she demanded.
Yeah, I thought cynically, “all” your food was the equivalent of a freaking bowl of cereal every now and then. It wasn’t like the woman was hard up for food—or money—since she spread her legs for every man who would offer her any sign of it … or material things.
“You’re just like your father. Good for nothing,” Regina muttered. She turned away, storming back into the kitchen and mumbling under her breath.
Heading back into the safety of my bedroom, I let out a sigh. Because it wasn’t like I hadn’t heard it all before. How I was just like my good for nothing father who’d left as soon as he’d found out she was pregnant. How she resented me. You’d think I’d get used to it by now. I wasn’t, though.
It still hurt so much. And I kept wondering, when I grew up and finally got out of this house, if I’d ever meet anyone who would think I was good for something instead of good for nothing.
Maybe someday.
* * *
“Hey, Mystique? You planning on hogging all that dip or what?” Foster Kavanaugh’s voice rang out, harassing their office manager. Yet again.
Noelle shot him a challenging look. “If it’s your favorite, then my answer’s yes, Magneto.” She shoved another tortilla chip laden with the seven-layer dip into her mouth, crunching while holding Foster’s gaze.
“Pretty sure there’s enough for everyone,” Laney said drily before swatting her older brother’s shoulder. “And be nice to your employee.”
Foster shrugged. “She’s off the clock.”
“Thank God for small mercies,” Noelle muttered.
“Are you two always like this?” Lawson asked, eyeing Foster and Noelle with avid curiosity.
“Yes,” came the answering chorus.
She watched as Lawson carried his tall form over to settle into the seat on the opposite side of her, Noelle sitting on the other.
“So, let’s be honest, Noelle.” He leaned in, elbows resting on his knees. “What you’re really wanting is something like what Lee, here, is looking for.”
When Noelle turned to her and mouthed “Lee” with a questioning look, she could only shrug because what could she honestly say? Lawson Briggs had officially given her a nickname. And a nickname was the least threatening thing that man posed to her.
The very least.
Turning back to Lawson, Noelle cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? And what is Lee, here, wanting?”
She watched as his lips—lips whose softness she could attest to—stretched into a wide grin. Lips which had grazed against her skin, allowing her the slightest brush of his close-trimmed beard. It had been far softer than she’d expected, and it had elicited a slew of thoughts. Like, how would it feel to have that beard brush against her skin elsewhere? Would it feel as decadent?
Leaning back casually in his chair, Lawson stretched out his long legs. “She wants some hot guy to utter sweet nothings to her. Something like,” he lowered his voice dramatically, “‘your face. I love that shit’.”
Noelle threw her head back in a laugh. “Oh, Laws. Don’t ever change, honey.”
When the other woman smiled at Lawson, she felt a pinch in her chest because … well, there was something she didn’t like about it. She didn’t like the other woman smiling at him like that.
And wasn’t that just all sorts of ridiculous? Yeah, she recognized it.
It didn’t, however, change things.
Wrenching her eyes away from Noelle, she caught sight of her boss and … well, now. That was interesting. Because Foster’s eyes were locked on Noelle and they certainly didn’t have a look of utter contempt in them. Quite the opposite. If anything, she fought the urge to fan herself at the intense heat in Foster’s gaze on Noelle. He must have felt her eyes
upon him because when his darted to hers, she cocked an eyebrow and received a squinty look in return.
Men were such numb nuts sometimes.
“So, what do you think? Those sweet nothings get your engine revving, don’t they?” Lawson’s question drew her from her thoughts. Turning to see his light blue eyes watching her, she noticed the corners crinkling with humor.
Attempting nonchalance, she answered, “Not really. And when I say not really, I mean not at all.”
And, yet, faced with such a response, Lawson appeared unfazed, giving her a cocky grin in return.
Apparently nothing worked on this man, she thought, observing the usual twinkle of amusement in the depths of his blue eyes.
“Okay. Well, what about this?” He suddenly schooled his features in an attempt at looking seductive. “What about my smolder? That’s impressive stuff right there, isn’t it?”
“Are you trying out your smolder on someone else, Laws?” Kane’s drawl interrupted them as he slid into the empty chair beside Lawson. “Darlin’, I thought you said you’d hold off on smolderin’ others without my permission.” Her coworker cast an admonishing look at Lawson. “You’re breakin’ my heart, you know?”
Lawson patted the man’s shoulder affectionately. “Aw, Windham. Don’t worry. I won’t go breaking your heart.”
Kane’s eyes lit up. “Don’t go breakin’ my heart,” he sang.
“Woo-hoo,” Lawson sang out before he and Kane both sprang from their seats, walking over to their guitar cases.
“Well. That confirms two things for me,” Noelle mused, watching as the two men consulted with Miller, likely about the song choice they were about to perform. “One, there is a form of adult ADD and two, it looks like we’re about to be serenaded, Elton John and Kiki Dee style.”
Watching as Lawson’s fingers worked at his own guitar, tuning it, she decided right then that there was, indeed, something about a man who could—
“There’s just something about a man who can play the guitar and sing, you know?” Noelle’s words startled her as the woman had literally pulled the thoughts right from her own mind.