Perfectly Imperfect (Men of Whiskey Row Book 4)

by D. A. Young

  “The good news is you both are still kinda young and have all your teeth,” D.J. finished optimistically.

  “Shut. It,” Casey growled as he stood up and then helped his nephew up as well. He set Ruby on the ground, and she ran straight for Jack who picked her up and put her on his shoulders. “Let’s go eat. I’m starvin’.”

  ***

  Holt was so mad, he could barely breathe. Carefully, he internalized his anger to conceal it from his friends. Katerina Romankov wanted to call things off. He could feel it in her third rejection of his attempt to spend time together. She could sense things were different between them, that he was different, and the fear of the unknown made her resolve that much stronger. Holt watched her walk away, her posture ramrod straight as the sun kissed her reddish brown curls. He felt he was being watched and turned to find Alexei’s laser-like stare on him. Holt indicated that he should follow him and left without Alexei’s confirmation.

  He rounded the house and landed on Jack and Noelle’s front steps. His wait was not a long one. “So, now I’m being summoned, eh?”

  “Yeah, you are, Romankov,” Holt declared as he stared out at the Smoky Mountains. “I have a big problem with how this blackmailin’ operation is goin’. You want me to shake a few cages, and there have been casualties, but all we are gettin’ are bare results. I know you’re waitin’ for the blackmailer to make a move first, but that’s not how I work. You’re sendin’ me on wild goose chases for nothin’, and it’s puttin’ a strain on my relationship with Kat.” Holt stood up to face Alexei. Yes, “The Wolf” was feared in their circles, but “The Woodsman’s” reputation wasn’t just handed to him on his day of birth. He’d earned it.

  “Do you know she came to my family’s estate in Sweden two months ago? Her car was parked across the street, and she watched me get in my fancy car, with my fancy folks, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it!” Holt tugged on his beard and scowled menacingly at Alexei. “My cousins and I spent the entire night huntin’ for your ‘lead’, which turned out to be another dead end. I don’t like lyin’ to my woman, Romankov. Now, I’m sure as her daddy, you couldn’t care less about my happiness, but I do. So I’m tellin’ you to get outta my way and let me do what I do best. I don’t shake cages. I burn them. If you want my help, then step aside. If not, I’m done playing peek-a-boo for you.”

  Holt stepped away and walked around him. “I’m givin’ you seventy-two hours to let me know how you’d like to proceed.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “It’s too bad Ian and Vivienne had to finish up with clients today,” Noelle said as she checked the corn. “Ian said they would be driving down tomorrow, though. I hope everything is okay with Alexei; he looked pretty worried when he left so abruptly.”

  When Jack didn’t respond, Noelle looked up to see her husband watching his youngest brother playing with his phone for the fifth time by his car.

  “He looks fucked up,” Jack said worriedly as he opened the grill and flipped the chicken.

  Noelle removed the parmesan-grilled corn on the cob and placed the shrimp kabobs in its place. “Mmmm. The coleslaw and baked beans are good. How’s the chicken coming along?”

  “The chicken is fine,” Jack replied as he glanced at his wife’s stiff back and shut the grill. “Is that all you’re gonna say on the subject?”

  “No. I’ve got the steaks warming in the oven. Let me know when to have Avery pull them out,” she added before turning the outdoor radio on and Imagine Dragons “Shots”

  filled the air. Noelle reached into the cooler and pulled out a bottle of Easton Brewery’s ale labeled “Squid Ink”. She shook the bottle at Jack. “Wyatt is certainly creative. This one has actual squid ink and sea salt. Want to try?”

  Jack surveyed his wife and, as usual, felt the stirrings of arousal underneath his overwhelming love for her. Due to the Tennessee heat, she was clad in denim cutoffs and a black short-sleeved tee-shirt. He admired her long legs and the black espadrille wedges on her feet. He raised his eyes to meet her gray gaze. “Why are you avoidin’ my comment, darlin’?”

  Noelle took the bottle opener and calmly opened the bottle. She took a sip of the salty-sweet alcoholic beverage and eyed him over the top. Seriously, why was Jack so…everything??? His black curls were pulled back into a ponytail and his beard was recently trimmed. The white v-neck tee-shirt set off his tanned, freckled skin perfectly, and she eyed his muscular arms that bulged when he crossed them. His faded jeans clung to his muscled thighs and ass, and he wore flip-flops on his feet. Christ, even his feet were sexy, his toenails all nice and trimmed. Mmmmph…now what was he saying? Oh yes, Casey.

  “It sounds like he might have fucked up,” Noelle said bluntly. “But at least he’s owning up to it. I just don’t know how he thought it would go down after that. Sidra’s mother is very different, Jack. She finally allowed him to see firsthand, and her mother warned her about him. Then he got in her face?! I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t feel that this is supposed to be happening. Avery and I have both tried calling her, but she’s just responding via text.”

  Jack walked up to her, grabbed the bottle out of her hands, and took a long swallow. He set it down on the patio table and pulled his wife to him by her front belt loops. They slid their hands into each other’s back pockets as Jack leaned down to kiss his wife. Their lips clung to each other, and their tongues meshed erotically, tasting of the ale and sea salt.

  Noelle purred as Jack’s lips nibbled at hers and his beard caressed her chin. She could feel her panties growing damp with her arousal. Jack pulled her tighter to him and pressed her against his heavy erection that could be felt even through their clothing.

  His wife was absolutely flawless, and he often felt like a madman because he couldn’t get enough of Noelle…mind, body and soul, as well as her fucking taste. Whether it was these plump lips or the ones between her legs, he craved her. “Would you accept it?”

  “Hell no,” she breathed against his lips. “Never, Jack! You and our family are my EVERYTHING.”

  Jack reluctantly pulled away to kiss her forehead. “Likewise; so let’s have a little faith in them. I remember how lost I was when I screwed up with you, so I know what he’s kind of goin’ through.”

  Noelle kissed him again. “If you say so, my love. And I hope you’re right. Nothing would please me more than for them to get it together.”

  ***

  “The kids napping?” Avery inquired with a warm smile as Darby entered the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to her. Carefully, she arranged the rustic peach and strawberry galette on a low cake platter before putting the glass dome cover on.

  Darby leaned down and captured her lips in a lingering kiss. “Out for the count until it’s time to eat, Ms.- I mean…Avery.”

  Guy walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on Noelle’s kitchen counter. “The hell? Avery?! Since when???”

  She smiled and wiped her lipstick from her hubby’s lips. “Since we made a wager on our wedding night…”

  Guy looked from his friend’s flaming red face to Avery’s smug one and took a bite of his apple. Chewing, he slowly processed what wasn’t being said. “So it’s safe to say that the honeymoon was pretty lit, huh?”

  “And then some,” Avery said with a bawdy wink as she grabbed Darby’s hand and twined their fingers together. “But if it’s alright with my husband, I’d like for him to go back to calling me ‘Ms.’. My own name feels wrong to me without it.”

  “Like he’s callin’ you a ho or somethin’?” Guy asked innocently, but the devilish gleam in his eyes betrayed him, and Avery laughed while Darby glowered at him.

  “Beat it, Pip,” he growled as he drew his wife into his arms, hoping for some alone time.

  “That’s all I ever do, brother,” Guy said mournfully as Kat walked into the room and opened the freezer. “I’m about to go blind from jackin’ off.”

  “Groooossss! What is wrong
with you?” she asked indignantly as she pulled a small carton of ice cream out and crossed her eyes at him. Kat grabbed a spoon, pulled up a chair to the counter, and opened the container. “Fern giving you a hard time?”

  Guy chuckled and tossed his braids back. “You don’t want to go there, princess. It would be fun to talk shit, but I know for a fact that ‘Thor’, your daddy, and brothers would beat the fuck outta me.”

  “I doubt ‘Thor’ even cares,” Kat said sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she scooped out a big spoonful of ice cream.

  Darby groaned aloud in exasperation at the both of them. “Hey now, we were here first. Scram!”

  “No way! Jack and Noelle’s house is neutral territory,” Kat insisted stubbornly. “You can’t make out in the kitchen. Your new house is right down the road; take it over there, buddy.”

  Darby raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you and Holt make out in this very kitchen?”

  “I know not what you speak of,” Kat said primly And then glared down into the ice cream carton. Guy reached over and ruffled her curls, chuckling as she ducked his hand.

  “Do we even wanna know what’s goin’ on with you? Also, how do you know we didn’t want some of that ice cream?” he asked trying to look into the carton then howled in outrage. “It’s Noelle’s blueberry pie ice cream! You can’t just come in here and eat it all!”

  “Quiet or you’ll wake the kids! Word of advice, sir: when a woman eats ice cream straight from the carton, you should just pretend like you don’t exist and let her proceed,” Avery advised him sagely. “I happen to know that Noelle made it just for her, as a thank you for babysitting at the wedding.”

  Guy stared at her and then slowly turned to look at Kat. “You watched the babies the ENTIRE weddin’ night?”

  Kat scooped up some more ice cream and ate it. “Yup. They didn’t come to claim the babies until check out time.”

  Everyone looked at each other with dawning realization - before reaching into their pockets. Money hit the counter in the forms of twenties, tens, and fives. Guy looked at them speculatively, “What’s the wager?”

  “That it actually happens?” Kat suggested and everyone snorted with disbelief.

  “Boy or girl?” Avery offered, tapping her chin. “Or more than one? It could happen...”

  “How long before they tell us?” Darby proposed as Holt walked in carrying baby Jack, followed by Casey. “Y’all want in on this? Jack and Noelle were left unsupervised at the weddin’ for more than twelve hours.”

  Holt winced as baby Jack tugged on his beard, and he smoothed the little boy’s thick black curls back. “Put me in for fifty dollars. I’ll grab my wallet from the truck as soon as this little one settles down. “Anyone call ‘evident signs of morning sickness? If not, I want that.”

  “I’ve got fifty dollars on her not bein’ pregnant,” Casey said adamantly, and they all turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. “Sorry, I just don’t see it this time. I think they learned their lesson from their wedding night and honeymoon. Besides, windin’ up pregnant from a wedding night is so predictable and corny.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a weddin’ night just to see for myself,” Guy joked, wagging his eyebrows, and Kat nudged his shoulder with hers. “Oh, and I’d also like for Morgan Freeman to narrate it, please.

  From outside, Jack called, “Food’s up! Let’s eat!”

  “I definitely pity the poor woman who has to deal with you,” Kat said sorrowfully to Guy, who smiled back at her enigmatically. “Let’s go eat!”

  ***

  Guy hummed along to Tim McGraw as he drove his vintage Chevy truck home later that night. Although cooler in the mountains, the temperature today at ninety-two degrees had been one of the hottest on record. The kids, full from dinner and sticky from sweets, had quickly fallen asleep after Guy had finished lighting sparklers with them. He smiled as he remembered D.J.’s earnest request to ask Fern if the kids could come down for a whole week.

  He pulled into his driveway and parked in front of the large, two-story wooden house overlooking the lake that he’d built with help from Holt and his father Rudii. The outside was painted in black, except the snow-white door, but the inside was light and airy and painted entirely in an off-white color. Guy preferred it that way to show off his Native American art collection displayed throughout the house, although that would soon be changing as his niece and nephew were pleading to paint their rooms, and he was such a sucker for their cute faces that he couldn’t resist.

  Grabbing the to-go boxes Noelle always ensured he took home with him, Guy turned off the engine and slipped out of the car. Inside the house was quiet, save the hum of the air conditioner. He smiled because that didn’t mean anything, and his point was soon proven when he opened the fridge and placed the leftovers inside. When he straightened up, slender arms encircled him from behind and began unbuttoning his lightweight denim shirt. “Hey there. Thought you’d be sleep by now. You hungry?”

  “I’m starving, just not for food,” she said alluringly as she removed his shirt to reveal his sleekly-muscled physique and placed tiny moist kisses along his tattooed back. Guy turned around and pulled the naked tempting package that was Pearl Mignon into his arms. He kissed her moist lips slowly until her hands clenched desperately to his long black braids and pulled tightly, even as she sought more of his mouth. “Please, hurry!”

  Guy laughed quietly as he scooped her into his arms and headed for the stairs. Pearl pressed kisses all over his face and hit the light switches on the way up as he teased her with neck kisses and nipped at her collar bones. She sighed with restless pleasure and asked, “How was time with the family?”

  “You’d know if you just decided to come,” he taunted her softly, but she remained mum on the subject. “You’re the only one concerned about your age, Pearl. No one else would be thinking about it.”

  “I would be,” she said stubbornly, and Guy growled with frustration as they reached the bedroom, and he dropped her on the bed unceremoniously. She scowled at him but quickly scrambled to her knees in front of him and undid his jeans. He brushed her long brown hair away from her face and noticed it was highlighted more than usual with dark blonde highlights, most likely to cover the increasing gray hair that she complained about. Guy had tried to dissolve Pearl’s insecurities by worshipping her body every chance they got. They would go for hours, and he loved the way she gave herself over to what they were doing.

  They’d started the clandestine affair eight months ago when she walked into Americana Traditions to order customized barstools for her restaurant The Pink Champagne. Guy had the details of her order as well as the Creole beauty’s personal ones: five feet eight, 34-28-34. Their attraction had been instantaneous, but he could see she was reluctant to pursue anything between them due to their fifteen-year age gap, so Guy had made the first move, snatching her into his arms as she walked him to the door. It was after hours so the restaurant was closed up for the night, allowing him to fuck her on the newly laid wooden floor. And they’d loved every minute of it. A widow, Pearl had married a man twenty-five years her senior who’d died of natural causes, and after burying him moved back to Whiskey Row. This affair suited both of them because, for all of his shit talking, Guy was a private man and Pearl was too embarrassed to be seen carousing with a hot younger man. But they both had needs and desires, which up until four months ago had suited both parties just fine.

  They had an understanding that this was a no strings attached, casual affair. If either found a better deal elsewhere, it was farewell with the best of luck. Guy hadn’t found a better deal; he’d just found himself seeing a different face when he was buried inside of Pearl’s lush body, and imagining she was someone else, and hard as he tried, he couldn’t shake it. Just the thought of her had him standing as erect as a Redwood tree as Pearl licked her lips in anticipation and slid her hand between her thighs. It made him an asshole of the first order, and he despised himself for it.

  “What’s the
matter, Guiles?” Pearl softly inquired as she pulled his cock out and lowered her head to lick the head. He gave her a half-smile. She never called him Guy. It was always Guiles.

  “I’m thinkin’ we should probably stop, Pearl,” Guy said honestly, and she froze. Slowly, she rose up to look at him, and her heart ached at the unyielding look on his face. He was a man with his mind made up “It’s not you, but somethin’s changed with me. I’ve enjoyed our time together but have to be upfront and tell you that because you deserve nothing less.”

  Pearl tried to quell the panic rising within at his devastating words. Guiles was everything she could ask for in a lover. He was insatiably freaky, and the way he ate her pussy made her want to pay him for the pleasure. Sex with her husband had always been a ten-minute chore that she’d endured as she counted ‘Mississippi’s’ in her head. Although they had an agreement, Pearl found herself unwilling to honor it because she just knew she would never find another lover like him. She would find a way to make him stay. She just had to!