Laws of Attraction

by RC Boldt

Bad, Langley. Bad. Langley, she admonished herself. Jesus. She was acting as though she’d never seen a bare-chested man before.

  It’s because you haven’t seen one like that before, an inner voice taunted.

  Jerking her eyes away from him, she immediately refocused on the exercise, giving a curt, “Fine.”

  Legs together, bend at waist, ski jump, land softly, she repeated the instructions in her mind in attempts at pushing her attraction aside.

  “Now, time for switch kicks. Go, go, go …” Lawson instructed the class as he performed the first few for them before moving around to assist some class participants with their form in order to prevent injuries. The prickles of awareness were undeniable as she felt him near her. When strong fingers grasped her hips, his husky voice warned, “Be sure to have your ‘anchor leg’ bent slightly at the knee.”

  He promptly moved on to another person, praising them for their form, before returning to the front of the class to tell them they’d be taking a water break before they’d begin ladder drills.

  And throughout the remainder of the class, she swore she could still feel tingles lingering from where he had touched her, had innocently reminded her of correct form.

  Yet, his touch had certainly not elicited innocent thoughts or images in her mind. Which meant one thing: Lawson Briggs posed more of a danger to her than she’d initially thought.

  C

  HAPTER TEN

  Langley

  Sixteen years old

  “What the hell is this?” Regina demanded when I entered the house.

  I’d just left my second job and I was nothing short of exhausted. Thankfully, I had managed to land a position at the local grocery store.

  I still worked at the library after school, re-shelving books, but the grocery store was better because I could get an employee discount. It helped considerably since I’d come close to starving myself in order to save up for shoes that didn’t need to be freaking duct taped to stay together.

  Yeah, that had been comic fodder for the other kids at school. Shitheads.

  And since I really didn’t want to show up to dinner at Mr. and Mrs. Brooks’ house like a freeloader, I’d just been eating less lately. They let me come over for dinner on nights I didn’t work at the grocery store as it was. I certainly didn’t want to wear out my welcome with those two.

  “What’s what?” I asked, wishing she’d get on with it and rip me a new one already so I could take a shower and try to get some sleep before I had to be up early to head in to school. I needed to get out of the house and study in the school library for my upcoming tests.

  Regina tossed a packet onto the dining room table and I stepped closer to peer down at whatever piece of mail had magically pissed her off. It was a large white envelope with the United States Air Force logo stamped on the return label section.

  Immediately, I scooped it up, holding it to my chest as if it were a small child. Turning to head to my room, I mumbled a quiet, “Thanks,” in hopes that I’d be able to slide past. I stupidly thought that the fact I actually had mail delivered to the house was a reason for her to get angry. I mean, Regina hated any reminder that I was hers, that I lived there. She always seemed bothered, agitated, by my mere presence.

  Clearly, she wasn’t finished with me. Oh, no. Not yet.

  “Stop right there, missy,” she snarled.

  Readjusting my backpack straps over my shoulders, I turned slowly, bracing myself. Because that’s what I always did—I braced myself for whatever shit she would end up dishing out.

  “You think the Air Force is gonna take you?” she sneered at me. “You’re a piece of shit like your daddy. No one will want you, least of all the Air Force.”

  I stood there, attempting to maintain indifference on the outside while, on the inside, her barbs hit their targets. Like always.

  Why did it still hurt after all this time? I wish I knew the answer to that. No matter how many times the logical part of me said, Langley, she’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone but herself. Just let it go, for some reason I couldn’t block it. Couldn’t thwart the hurt that she inflicted each and every time.

  “You think you’re gonna be all fancy and leave me behind to join the military, huh? Well, I’ve got news for you, Langley Ford. It ain’t gonna happen.” Regina leaned in close, the overwhelming scent of her perfume nearly making me gag. “I know you think you’re gonna join as soon as you graduate next year, but you need a parent’s signature to enlist at seventeen.” She grinned smugly, the smile never reaching her eyes. “And I ain’t never gonna sign,” she finished with a threatening tone.

  How I managed not to burst free with all the things I wanted to say, I’ll never know. Maybe it was because I knew better than to taunt the woman. Because what she didn’t realize was that I’d been successfully forging her signature for years.

  Years.

  Yeah, all those progress reports, report cards, field trip permission slips for school? She could never be bothered and couldn’t care less if I got detention for not returning my progress report with her signature—all because she was the one who refused to sign it. And I knew that I wasn’t about to miss out on field trips to the freaking aquarium or zoo or even the local medical hospital where our Future Medical Club went and I got to hold some actual human organs. Let me tell you, that was beyond cool.

  So, instead of taunting her with the fact that I didn’t need her for anything but someone who would somewhat put up with me living beneath their roof for a short while longer, I stayed silent. Whenever I managed to give nothing away with my facial expressions, she normally gave up quite quickly.

  “Get out of my face!” She turned to head back to the kitchen, likely to go and call up one of her sugar daddies.

  Escaping to my room, locking the door behind me, I set my backpack down beside my bed before crawling onto it to sit cross-legged. As quietly as possible, I opened the large envelope, pulling out the information I had requested.

  What Regina didn’t know was that Mr. Brooks and his wife had introduced me to Mr. Brooks’ brother, Joe, who had been serving in the Air Force for over forty years and was now working with their Special Programs. The man had connections, and he had promised to insert the special information in the recruitment packet I requested.

  Pulling out the information about the beta testing for women in the Special Forces, specifically into the combat pararescue field, I got butterflies in my stomach in anticipation … and with hope.

  This was my ticket out. My way out of hell.

  And I would do everything in my power to make it happen.

  * * *

  “Momma K.! I’m here! Now the real fun can begin,” Lawson called out as he stepped inside the small house belonging to Laney and Foster’s mother. The older woman, who preferred to be called Momma K., had basically taken them all in, insisting on them having a “family” dinner night at least one Sunday either every month or every other month, depending on everyone’s schedules.

  “Lawson Briggs, you are too much,” Momma K. admonished playfully, the corners of her lips turning up into a wide grin as she embraced him in a hug.

  “Be honest,” he said in a loud whisper, “you’ve missed me more than the others, right? It’s okay. I won’t tell.” He winked at her.

  The older woman swatted at him with a laugh, shaking her head as she relinquished their embrace. “Oh, Lawson.” Reaching a hand up to the smooth, clean-shaven side of his face, she shook her head. “I still can’t believe what a baby face you have.” She gave his cheek a quick pinch. “You’re too handsome for your own good,” she remarked with an affectionate smile.

  Foster’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Hey, Ma! Did you tell Zach he could cut the gnocchi? By himself? You don’t even let me do that shit?”

  “Language, Foster Bryant Kavanaugh!” she yelled, stern look pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Sorry, Ma! But you don’t. Not cool.”

  There were noise
s that sounded suspiciously like a scuffle coming from the kitchen before they heard Zach’s loud protest, “Fos! Get your hands off my gnocchi!”

  Lawson’s eyebrows nearly hit his forehead as he laughed. “Well. Those are words I never thought I’d hear in my lifetime.”

  Momma K. tsked and turned to walk back to her kitchen to likely play referee between Foster and her soon to be son-in-law, Zach. And, of course, to prepare whatever utterly delectable Italian dish she’d planned to feed them.

  The woman was amazing in the kitchen but also very possessive of her recipes, which had been handed down from generations before. Zach had worked his ass off just to get her to trust him enough to assist her in preparing her meals. As he trailed behind her on the way to the kitchen, he stopped by the dinner table where the ladies were setting out plates and flatware.

  “Well, if it isn’t three of the most gorgeous women I know.” He held out his arms. “Come over here and give your favorite man a hug.”

  Raine flashed him an amused smile, while Tate and Laney shook their heads with a laugh before approaching him. They each gave him a quick hug, but when it came to Raine, last in line, he noticed she had a curious expression upon her face. When he saw her glance behind him, he couldn’t resist looking back. Seeing nothing, he asked, “What are you looking for?”

  Before Raine could answer, Tate piped up, “More like who, not what.”

  Ah, so that’s what’s on their minds.

  Exhaling slowly, he spoke with faux sadness. “I came solo, sadly. Heartbreaking, isn’t it? I mean, here we have an impressive specimen of man with what could almost be classified as too much sexiness, and he’s all by his lonesome. No date to be found.”

  He heard a noise behind him, but before he could turn to see who had joined them, a familiar voice teased, “Luckily, I just found the world’s smallest violin to play ‘My Heart Bleeds for You’, Briggs. So, you’re all good.”

  Turning with a grin, he found Lee standing there before him. “Now, now. That didn’t sound quite so sincere. Just for that, I insist on you sitting beside me for dinner. You know,” he rubbed at the center of his chest, “to help soothe my hurt feelings.”

  His attention had been so tuned in on her that he hadn’t realized she had arrived with someone else in tow.

  “Soothe your feelings, huh? Is that code for something not so legit?” Noelle Davis, Foster’s office manager, smirked, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

  Before he could respond, Foster’s voice rang out. “Well. If it isn’t little Sybil coming to join us for dinner.” Foster flashed a wicked grin. “Want me to find you a small coat closet to lock you up in?”

  “Only if you lock yourself up in with her, I’m sure,” Tate muttered under her breath, prompting them all to snicker.

  All of them except Noelle and Foster, of course.

  “I should go say hello to Momma K.” He watched as Lee’s lips twitched, eyeing Foster and Noelle, who were engaged in what appeared to be an epic staredown. Again. For like the millionth time.

  Those two and their heated, sexual tension rivaled the fires of Hades.

  Waving with a formal air for Lee to walk in front of him, he asked, “Shall we head to the kitchen, ma’am?”

  She gave him a look. “Really? You’re ma’aming me?”

  With a cocky grin, his answer was smug and thick with insinuation. “Don’t lie, Lee. You like me ma’aming you.”

  “I find that I feel dirtier the longer I listen to this,” he heard Laney mutter from behind them.

  Shaking her head, Lee walked in front of him and—oh, yeah—that made his Sunday evening veer off from pretty damn good to incredible. Maybe even stellar. He followed her through the dining room, distracted while his mind went where the typical male mind tended to wander when faced with a supremely attractive female.

  Straight to the gutter.

  Just as he began thinking of the ways he’d enjoy stripping her of those fitted khaki pants that showcased her firm ass, thinking of how he’d love to cup it in his hands as she rode him, it was brought to a screeching halt.

  More like a grinding halt, maybe? Because when she stopped abruptly in front of him, just as they were about to walk into Momma K.’s kitchen, his hands instinctively reached for her hips to steady himself. And that slight arch of his lower body toward hers? Into her ass?

  Oops. Color him shameless.

  Turning her head to the side slightly, she mumbled, “Did you just grind on me? After I felt you staring at my ass the entire walk over here?”

  “Guilty.” He smirked. “What can I say? Your ass is like the eighth wonder of the world.”

  Before she could respond, they heard Momma K. call out, happily, “Langley! Come here, my dear girl.”

  Thus, ending the awkward yet somehow enjoyable encounter with his lovely Lee.

  And, yes. The teacher in him took pride in that impromptu example of alliteration.

  Lovely Lee. Lovely, luscious Lee. Lawson’s lovely, luscious Lee.

  Ding, ding, ding! The latter was absolute perfection.

  Yeah, he knew that he was a supreme dork, but at least he was an alliteration genius. Surely that canceled out the dorky part.

  Surely.

  C

  HAPTER ELEVEN

  Littlewood’s law: An individual can expect to experience an event with odds of one in a million.

  Langley’s take: The idea that I’d ever be present at a family-style dinner, with not only some coworkers but sit beside a man who had all but strong-armed his way into my life? Yeah, that? I totally figured it would be up there with my odds of winning the lottery. On second thought, maybe I should go buy a ticket…

  ~

  HAVING DINNER AT FOSTER KAVANAUGH’S mother’s home was a cross between an episode of the TV show, Friends—on crack—and … well, the greatest, homiest thing she’d ever experienced. Because while there was the usual animosity and banter between Foster and Noelle, there was one thing … one element present, something she could feel blanketing the entire group.

  Affection.

  These people were an odd bunch because, really, who would think that teachers and former military would find so much in common or get on so well? Then again, these teachers weren’t exactly your run of the mill variety. It seemed as though everyone there had a story; some she was aware of and others she was not.

  The truth was, she hadn’t felt this much warmth—this much affection—at any other dinner table, aside from Mr. and Mrs. Brooks’, in a very long time. It made her yearn for the two people who had been such a saving grace in her life.

  “No getting all maudlin over there, Lee.”

  Lawson’s voice, quietly whispering in her ear, drew her from her thoughts.

  She turned to face him, but just as she was about to respond, another voice interrupted, Southern twang so evident that she didn’t have to look in the direction to know who it was.

  “Are y’all over there whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears?” Kane drawled, humor lacing his tone. “Frankly, you’re making me jealous.”

  She watched as Lawson flashed a grin over at Kane. “You’re still my main squeeze, don’t worry.” He paused before adding, in a terrible imitation of Kane’s Southern accent, “Darlin’.”

  “So, what’s this about you two whispering sweet nothings?” Glancing over, Zach’s eyes flitted from her to Lawson, looking at his friend expectantly. Upon noticing that the rest of the table seemed to be watching them, awaiting Lawson’s answer, she grew uncomfortable.

  Lawson straightened in his seat, puffing out his chest. “Like I’m telling you. Then, you’ll steal all my great lines.”

  She heard chuckles and snorting laughs erupt from the others.

  “Noelle and Langley,” Momma K. interjected, “I’m sending you girls home with leftovers.” Just as she and Noelle were about to protest, the older woman held up a finger. “I insist.”

  She and Noelle echoed their thanks to Momma K. with a sm
ile.

  “So, aside from having to put up with my brother at the office,” Laney grinned playfully at her brother’s office manager, “what do you do in your spare time?”

  Before Noelle could answer, Foster interjected, “Oh, you know. The usual fun, entertaining kind of stuff.” He looked at Noelle. “Like skinning cats.”

  “Oooh, Fos. That wasn’t very nice.” Lawson shook his head in mock sadness. “Sounds like someone’s got some serious cat-titude.”

  Collective groans sounded—the usual thing that occurred when Lawson was around. She shook her head on a silent chuckle. It only got worse from there.

  “Oooh, well done, man,” Kane piped up. “That was …” he paused, leaning into the table, eyebrows raised expectantly, “claw-some.”

  Snickers sounded from everyone—even Momma K. couldn’t contain her own, shaking her head at them, corners of her lips curved up in a smile—except for Foster, of course. Kane was the recipient of their boss’ stony glare.

  Lawson let out a fake cough, covering his mouth with his fist. “Oh, excuse me for a meow-ment as I get this cough under control.”

  It was in that moment that something let loose within her. It happened before she knew it … it just burst forth from deep within.

  “Oh, paw-lease. You can do better than that.”

  Immediate silence descended the dinner table as eyes drew to her—some staring in shock, some in obvious appraisal, while others were looking on, amused.

  When Lawson turned to her, his eyes alit with a mixture of amusement and pride, smiling widely—far wider of a smile than she’d ever been graced with—it actually felt like she had hit the jackpot. Her first thought was: It would feel beyond great to have that particular smile focused on me all the time.

  The second thought was: Holy shit, I just cracked a joke, of sorts. She had actually participated in this groups’ banter.

  And hell if she didn’t feel like mirroring the very same smile Lawson had upon his face at that moment. Maybe even pairing it with a little laugh of her own. Especially when Lawson’s next words were spoken.