Cook Brothers: The Whole Flipping Family

by BJ Harvey

  “And when I’m ready to tell you anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “And neither does the color scheme of this Barbie Dream House. But you like what you like, right?” And right now, I’m wondering what my Barbie might be up to right now… or later. Maybe I should see if she wants to meet up for dinner or a drink. Maybe a drink is less of a big deal, to start with I mean.

  “I can hear your brain turning from here. What’s up with you?”

  I stop at the first landing and turn to meet his eyes. “It’s Ronnie, but this time, I want space to navigate the start of an adult relationship without pressure from Mom, Dad, our other brothers or friends. You’ll probably end up being my sounding board and voice of sanity when I need it, but until then, can you just—”

  “Absolutely,” Bryant says. There’s absolutely no amusement or joking in his tone. “Just one thing though…”

  I sigh, knowing it was too good to be true. “Yeah?”

  “Can I at least laugh at the fact you said ‘adult relationship’ and were referring to yourself?” he asks, his lips twitching.

  “Asshole,” I mutter, unable to hide the mirth in my voice.

  “The asshole who always has your back,” he says, walking past me. “Now, let’s get this shit started.”

  And that is all I needed to say, apparently, to get him off my back.

  Twin brother, and best fucking friend ever.

  It’s mid-afternoon, and between the now five of us—Cohen left at noon—we’ve chucked out all of the bad. All of the stuff deemed reusable or recyclable after a little love, is now packed in a moving truck for Bry and I to drive to the storage unit. My back is killing me, my arms have never been so tight, and my legs feel like jelly, but I feel alive. I’m actually really looking forward to getting stuck into demo with Jamie and Jase tomorrow after my morning class.

  Thinking of school has me thinking about Ronnie, and how we didn’t make plans for seeing each other again. I know she’ll be in my Intro to Photography class on Monday, I just don’t want to wait that long.

  With that in mind, I grab the truck keys from my pocket. “Bry, you’re driving. Catch,” I say, just before I throw them in his direction.

  “Whoa, why am I driving now?”

  “Because I’m tired and sore, and I need to catch up on emails,” I lie, hoping our twin sense isn’t activated right now.

  Thankfully, he just shrugs and calls me a lightweight under his breath as he walks around the back of the truck to the driver’s side. Once we’re both inside the cab and buckled in, Bry starts up the engine, and a few moments later, we’re on our way to Cook Construction’s storage unit.

  While Bry plays around with the radio, settling on a modern-rock station, I grab my phone and bring up Ronnie’s number.

  Jax—Hey, Barbie.

  Ronnie—Hey, Ken. How’s my Dream House?

  Jax—Empty now. Bry and I are just transporting a truckload of things we’re keeping to our storage unit.

  Ronnie—Did you keep the plastic-covered couch? I kind of had plans for that thing.

  Jax—We did. Do tell me about these plans…

  Ronnie—But we’re taking things slow, remember?

  Jax—I didn’t say snail speed, and not acting on it doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it.

  Ronnie—Is that all it takes? Suggestive texts?

  Jax—All it takes is the thought of you naked on said couch and I’m done for.

  Ronnie—I didn’t say naked… I could’ve meant cuddling while watching a movie.

  Jax—Naked cuddling is a thing.

  Ronnie—Let me guess, and the movie would be one of the adult variety.

  Jax—Chick flick it is.

  Ronnie—Of course. We can’t be corrupting the ambience of my Dream House.

  I chuckle, earning Bry’s attention. “Who’s making you smile like an idiot?”

  “Your mom.”

  He snorts. “You know that comeback doesn’t work since she’s your mom too.”

  I shrug but can’t stop myself from joining in his quiet laughter.

  “Ready for class tomorrow?” he asks, changing the subject just as another text comes in.

  Ronnie—What does a girl have to do to get her hot professor to ask her on a date?

  You just breathing seems to do that.

  I lick my lips, watching out the windscreen as we move from a residential to a commercial area.

  “God, your attitude is positively nauseating,” Bry groans. “You’re smiling like it’s Christmas morning and you’ve already snuck a peek at the presents.”

  Oh, if only you knew just how fantastic Ronnie’s present was under her wrapping.

  “You’re just jealous you haven’t got a gorgeous woman texting you.”

  “So, it’s a woman. That’s a good step forward for you. Maybe by the time you’re thirty-four you can lose that pesky virginity of yours.”

  I flip him the bird, but that doesn’t stop me from smiling. “If you must know, it’s Ronnie.”

  “Mmm hmm…”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I wondered how long it would take you to realize she went to our campus.”

  My head jerks back and snaps in an Exorcist-esque twist toward my twin. “You knew?”

  “Of course. Maybe if you’d actually talked to her before Saturday—”

  “We weren’t exactly talking…”

  “I mean since we first met her. You know she’s just upped her course load and added a few electives to round out her degree.”

  “And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that one of those extra courses was photography?”

  “I saw the class lists last week. I thought it would be more fun for you to find out for yourself.”

  I wait for him to pull off the road and into the storage facility before I punch him in the arm.

  He gives me the side-eye. “Ouch. What was that for?”

  “You throwing me under the bus.”

  “Since Ronnie has a legal background, I have no doubt she would’ve known about the non-frat policy—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Again, how do you know this? I only found out from April on Monday night,” I say, huffing out a breath. “Am I the only one in the dark here?”

  He brings the truck to a stop in the driveway outside our storage unit, then turns the wheel all the way to one side and hits reverse, expertly backing around. Shutting down the engine, he leans against the dash and spins to face me. “Okay, reality check, brother. You have been avoiding her for as long as you’ve known her. Either because she scares you or you didn’t want to rock the boat Jamie and April were building. Now that vessel is well and truly unsinkable, I thought you’d make your move, but no, you were running and hiding again at the engagement party.”

  “So you decided to push me toward an inevitable complication?”

  “I gave you a well-overdue push and honestly,” he says, quirking a brow, “it didn’t take much more than a poke.”

  “Well something was—”

  He levels me with a ‘really?’ glare. “You finally gave in to what the rest of us have been watching for months now, and you’re worried about being her teacher?” He sighs. “There are ways around that, Jax. Talk to Joey.”

  My cheeks heat, which is so unlike me, because I’m not one to blush. “I already have,” I mumble.

  “I’m sorry. Did I hear you say you already have?”

  I square my shoulders and meet his amused gaze. “I met with him yesterday.”

  “Then pull your hand off your dick, stop coming up with excuses and just fucking do something about it before some cocky freshman goes all out to fulfill their cougar fantasy with her.”

  That makes me growl—loudly—and his grin turns huge. He poked the bear and got the reaction he wanted. “Asshole,” I mutter.

  “Bet you’ll reply to her text now though,” he says, nodding to th
e phone in my hand. “Or are you gonna run and hide from someone who is into you, isn’t photog-pussy, and likes you for you and your small, ineffectual cock?”

  I go to punch him but the fucker is already shutting the truck door before I can react, his laughter filling the air.

  Jax—What does a Ken have to do to get the gorgeous Barbie to go out with him?

  Her response comes a few minutes later, those scrolling three dots on our message string driving me insane the more time passes without an answer. When it comes through—as per usual—she doesn’t disappoint.

  Ronnie—Chase her until he’s caught her.

  9

  Ronnie

  Monday afternoon, and I’m in my chair at the back of the class, my eyes glued to the door. I’ve never been the girl who pines after a guy, but everything about Jaxon Cook draws me in.

  Case in point: my body overheating at the sight of him walking in the room. Butterflies make my stomach their home as his gaze sweeps the room, a dazzling smile curving his lips when he locks eyes with me.

  Today he’s wearing navy dress pants, a white open-neck linen shirt, and a grey tweed blazer over the top. On most other men, it would be stuffy and almost nerdy. On Jax, with his black thick-rimmed reading glasses, stylishly tousled hair, and bright, all-seeing amber eyes, it looks damn hot. Geeky hot, read-me-a-textbook-and-I-won’t-hear-a-word-of-it-because-I’m-too-busy-imagining-you-naked hot. He-asks-you-a-question-and-you-sit-there-all starry-eyed-looking-like-an-idiot hot.

  Shit, that actually just happened.

  “Ms. Nelson?” he calls out.

  Shaking my head to clear the lust-fueled haze, I don’t miss the twitch of his lips before he quickly schools his expression. The same can’t be said of my classmates, all of whom have twisted in their seats to look at me.

  “Yes, Professor Cook?” I reply, my tone saccharine-sweet. Last class he told us to call him Jax, but I’ve never been one to do what people want me to. My father and my abandoned law career can attest to that.

  My cheeks feel like they’re on fire, but pride refuses to let me acknowledge my embarrassment. I square my shoulders and lift my chin with an edge of defiance.

  “I asked everyone if they’d brought their cameras today as requested.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His eyes flash at the salutation before he breaks my gaze and returns his attention back to the class. I, however, let go of the breath I’m holding while trying to quell the rising ache between my legs.

  “Before I give you your first class assignment, let’s go over the different parts of the camera and their function,” he says, pulling up his own Canon from the desk. “This will most likely be revision for some of you, but you never know; you might learn something you didn’t know.”

  For the next twenty minutes, he brings up slides on the projector and methodically works his way through the different features of the equipment, stopping to answer questions when students raise their hands, and not paying any further obvious attention to me. There’s a group of girls—I can call them that because they’re more than ten years younger than me—sitting in the front row, doing everything possible to get Jax’s attention. I don’t blame them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel an unwelcome clench in my gut every time he smiles at them or turns on the Jax Cook charm when he answers.

  We agreed to keep whatever it is between us to ourselves when we’re on campus, but part of me really wishes I could stake my claim. I can just imagine the shocked look on the girls’ faces if I stormed to the front of the class and slammed my mouth against those soft, perfect lips of his. Their reaction would almost make the ramifications worth it. Almost.

  He finishes with his explanation, putting his camera down on the table in front of him and looking back to the class.

  “Now, for the fun stuff,” he says, a wicked smile curving his mouth, “the first assignment is worth ten percent of your grade and requires you to work in pairs.”

  Straight away, students look to their friends in the class or their neighbor next to them, nods, high fives, and handshakes being shared as the quiet classroom morphs into a hum of conversation.

  Jax shakes his head before knocking the wood in front of him to regain control of the class. “Before you go arranging your own partners, I’ve taken the liberty of selecting your partners for you. The aim is to challenge you to work with someone you may not know and hopefully, learn something from one another. I’ll call you down in pairs, and then you can go meet somewhere around campus to discuss the project and brainstorm. The theme is portraits, so I want you to carefully read the assignment brief and note down the key points we expect to see. If there’s nothing else, I’ll see you all again next Monday.”

  Then, two by two, Jax calls out everyone until the last pair of giggling female fans—I mean, students—walk out of the room, closing the door behind them, leaving just the two of us. “Veronica Nelson,” he says with a smirk. His eyes are filled with amusement as I stand, pulling my bag over my shoulder, and make my way down the stairs toward him.

  “Am I paired with someone away from class today?” I ask.

  He glances to the closed door then back to me. “Fortunately, there is an odd number of people in class so that means you’re going to have to work with me for the project.”

  I open my mouth to protest, unease rising inside of me at how this might look.

  “But, I will only be there in an observational capacity. There can’t be any misunderstanding that you might be getting an unfair advantage by working with your professor.”

  I let out the breath I was holding, my shoulders lowering with my exhale. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  He grins, lifting his arm as if to sweep a loose tendril of my hair away, but catches himself. “I said I wasn’t going to jeopardize your grade in this class because of our personal involvement and so I won’t. This was an opportunity I wasn’t going to give up though.”

  I tilt my head. “Why?”

  “You need to ask?”

  “I said to chase me, and I haven’t heard from you since then. This,” I say, sweeping my hand out, “isn’t part of the chase. You haven’t even asked me out on a date yet.”

  His lips twitch. “Barbie,” he says, deep and low. “Was showing you the Dream House not a date?”

  I bark out a laugh, throwing my head back. “If you think that’s a date, you have a lot to learn, sir.”

  His gaze drops to my mouth and my wide smile, his eyes darkening when my breath hitches and I subconsciously run my tongue along my bottom lip, earning a rumbling growl in his throat.

  “Care to teach me?” His voice is rough and reminds me of the way he sounded when he was turned on and driving deep inside me. I shudder, and it’s my turn to lock my arms at my sides to stop myself from acting on the memories flashing through my brain.

  “We better get out of here and go somewhere around people. Then I won’t have to fight every instinct I have. I want to grab hold of that ponytail, tug your head back, and kiss that mouth of yours to shut you up.”

  I step back to put much-needed distance between us. “But you like my smart mouth.”

  “I also like what it does to me in my fantasies right now, so I think it’s best we go to a coffee shop off-campus to discuss your ideas for the assignment.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Not that I don’t like the idea of his fantasies and what I might be doing in them, but if we’re going to get through the semester unscathed—professionally, of course—then letting him kiss me and do other things to me in the classroom where he teaches, and I have to concentrate, would not be a wise move.

  “Lead the way,” I say.

  He walks to the door and swings it wide. “After you, Ms. Nelson. I do believe I’m the one doing the chasing. Remember?”

  “You’re learning, Ken,” I whisper, a sly smile on my lips.

  “Sometimes teachers need to be taught too,” he murmurs, shutting the door behind us before walking down the hall at my s
ide.

  Ten minutes later, Jax is pulling out a chair for me at the back of a quaint little coffee shop a few blocks away.

  Once we’ve ordered and I’m seated, he sits opposite me, pulling his phone and wallet out of his pocket and sliding them inside the front compartment of his leather satchel.

  “Do you come here often?” I ask. His eyes crinkle, his lips quirking on one side as it occurs to me how it sounds. I shrug. “Two birds, one stone.”

  “Indeed. But wasn’t it you who insisted we keep this professional?”

  “Only on-campus. I figure we can call this a pre-date/pre-assignment meeting. That way, I can brainstorm ideas for the project, and also educate you on the fine art of the chase.”

  “I’m quite adept at going after what I want.”

  “Is that so?” I ask, tilting my head to study him. “Because if I recall, it was you who actively avoided me at all family functions for the best part of a year.”

  “I was—”

  “Not chasing.”

  “I didn’t want to complicate anything,” he says, his expression filled with sincerity.

  “I guessed that. It’s not like you to be shy.”

  “No, that’s my doppelgänger.”

  “He’s not shy either.”

  “Around his family and friends, no, but he takes a while to let his guard down around strangers. He was burned once, so he can be rather introspective sometimes.”

  “The yin to your yang?”

  “In some ways. In others, we’re like two peas in a pod,” he says with a soft smile.

  “So, like twins then?”

  “Exactly.” His grin widens just as the server delivers our coffees.

  I cup my hands around the mug and bring it up to my lips, letting out a moan and closing my eyes at that first hit of caffeine. When I open them again, I find him frozen mid cup-lift, his attention now one hundred percent on me and my mouth.

  I frown, nodding to his suspended coffee. “You going to drink that, or just sit there and imagine me moaning during other activities?”

  That snaps him out of it.