by Jessie Evans
Phoebe glanced over at the scene as they passed, unable to stifle a laugh at the sight of a red-faced infant wailing for his mother as he was settled onto Santa’s lap.
“Poor kid,” Colt said from just behind her. “Sitting on Santa’s lap is cruel and unusual punishment.”
Daisy grinned over her shoulder. “You’re just scarred for life because you threw up on him when you were five.”
“How do you know,” Colt shot back. “You were only two.”
“I’ve heard the story enough times. And I’ve seen the pictures.” Daisy’s smile grew wicked around the edges. “I’m going to show them to Phoebe at Christmas Eve dinner this year. Then she’ll never want to kiss you again.”
Phoebe laughed uncomfortably as they reached the lane Tucker was holding for them, an iced up parallel parking spot with oversized bowling pins arranged at one side and a card table set up to hold score cards and pencils. “Don’t tease him, Daisy. Or me, okay?”
“Yeah, Daisy, Phoebe and I aren’t up for discussion or teasing or anything else. And I expect you to keep anything you think you know to yourself and not tell Mom and Dad.” Colt gave Tucker one of those back-thumping man hugs the Brody brothers had perfected before turning back to his sister. “Unless, of course, you want me to tease you and Matty when your boyfriend heads this way with more beer.”
Daisy’s grin became a scowl. “He is not my boyfriend, Colt. Seriously, don’t even start. You’ll embarrass the shit out of me. As usual.”
Colt shrugged. “We’ll see. If you behave, I guess I can locate my good manners too.”
“Fine,” Daisy growled, rolling her eyes. “No talking, no teasing. So how do we want to play, singles or teams?”
As they sorted out the bowling order, Phoebe cast Colt a grateful look. He had defused Daisy and ensured they would all be able to hang out and enjoy the evening without any awkwardness or speculation. As much as anything he had said, it made her think that they could pull this off.
They could have their fun before he left, and when he came home on leave, things would be the way they’d always been. They would be friends, almost like family, and nothing important would have to change.
Chapter 12
Colton
Everything was different.
The turkey bowling was still silly fun, the beer was cold and crisp, and he was having a blast spending time with his family and friends, but there was something else in the air. Something that made it impossible to tear his eyes away from Phoebe, to keep from smiling when she smiled or laughing when she laughed or observing how cute she looked with her nose turning pink from the chill in the air.
“What?” Phoebe asked as she thunked her turkey down on top of the card table. “Do I have popcorn crumbs on my face?”
“No.” He shook his head, grinning as he brought his finger to press against the tip of her nose. “But you’re starting to look a little like Mrs. Claus. Your nose is bright red.”
She wiggled her nose experimentally. “Yeah, I think I’ve lost sensation in my face. That’s probably not a good thing, is it?”
He laughed as he reached into his pocket to grab his wallet. “Probably not. Why don’t you go inside the courthouse and grab a couple of hot chocolates. Standing in the line will give your nose a chance to thaw.”
She covered his hands, pushing his wallet away before he could pull out a ten. “Good idea, but this is my treat. Do you want peppermint schnapps in your hot chocolate?”
“Nah,” he said. “Two beers is my limit. I’ve got a race tomorrow.”
She bounced on her toes. “You’re right. I can’t believe I forgot. Plain hot chocolate for both of us, then.” She turned back to Daisy and Tucker. “Do you all want anything from the Jaycee’s table inside? I’m going to head in and warm up before my nose falls off.”
“I’ll come with you.” Daisy plopped her turkey down next to Phoebe’s. “My nose is fine, but I need to make sure my butt hasn’t fallen off.”
“Wouldn’t want to lose your butt,” Phoebe teased.
“No, I wouldn’t. It’s one of my best features.”
“Stop,” Tucker said, settling into one of the chairs at the card table. “I don’t want to hear my sister talk about her butt.”
Daisy stuck her tongue out at Tucker before threading her arm through Phoebe’s and starting toward the courthouse. Colton pulled out the chair next to his brother’s, smiling as he watched Phoebe lean in to whisper something to Daisy that made his sister throw back her head and laugh.
“It’s good that Phoebe’s back in town,” Colt said, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Daisy’s happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. I didn’t realize how much she missed her partner in crime.”
Tucker grunted in response.
Colt turned to see his brother studying him with narrowed eyes. “What?”
“You need to be careful, tough guy. Or you’re going to find yourself in way over your head.”
“Not you, too.” Colt sighed, stretching his neck to one side and then the other. “Listen, Phoebe isn’t a kid anymore, okay? She doesn’t need my entire family second-guessing her choices. She’s capable of making the decisions that she thinks are best for—”
“I wasn’t talking about Phoebe.” Tucker leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “I was talking about you. I’ve never seen you look at a girl the way you look at her.”
“What way?” Colton asked, the skin between his eyebrows bunching.
“The way you should look at a girl you’re sleeping with.”
Colton crossed his arms at his chest, rolling his eyes toward the night sky. “I think I made it clear that that part of Phoebe’s and my relationship is private. As for the way I look at her, she’s a friend I’ve known forever, Tucker. That’s the only thing that’s different. We were friends first.”
“You keep telling yourself that and one morning you’re going to wake up and realize you let something special slip through your fingers,” Tucker said, as serious as Colt had seen him in years. Since Missy had died, Tucker wasn’t always fully present in the world the way he used to be. He seemed to drift through life, in it but not of it, refusing to let anyone close enough to see what he was really feeling.
But he was present now and staring Colt down with an intensity that warned that he would be smart to pay attention to what his brother had to say next.
“I know this is the first time this has happened to you,” Tucker continued in a tone that crawled under Colt’s skin and started to itch. “It shouldn’t be—you’re too old not to have been in love before—but I know part of it’s my fault. And Dylan’s and Blake’s. You saw how we fucked it up and didn’t want to end up bitter or a sad, pathetic son of a bitch like me.”
Colt’s anger faded, replaced by empathy for his brother’s pain. “Tucker, you’re not—”
“I am,” he insisted, his hands balling into fists as he glared at a place on the ground between them. “I am sad and pathetic, but at this point I don’t know how to change. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop missing her, but I do know this.”
He lifted his gaze to Colt’s. “If I had the chance to go back and do it all over, even knowing I would lose her again, I would do it. I’d go back. Because there is nothing—no pain, no sadness—that can eclipse a love like that. It’s worth hurting for, worth everything you might have to risk or sacrifice to hold onto it. If I could just have one more day…”
Colton swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. He’d known Tucker was crazy about Missy, but he’d never heard him talk this way. Seeing the older brother who had always been the strong, silent, keeps-to-himself sibling in their house full of loudmouths making himself so vulnerable brought home how important this conversation was to Tucker.
He wasn’t sure what to think about the assumption that he was falling in love with Phoebe—except that it didn’t strike him as crazy as it should have—but he wanted Tucker to know that his words hadn’t fallen on
deaf ears.
“I hear you,” he said, laying a hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “And I’ll think about what you’ve said. I promise.”
“Don’t just think on it,” Tucker said. “Do something about it. If you’re going to go for it, go for it. If you’re not, get out before it’s too late.”
Colton was about to joke that Tucker was making Phoebe sound like a roadside bomb about to explode, but before he could speak, Daisy and Phoebe reappeared, neither of them looking warmer than when they’d left.
“The line is all the way out the door,” Daisy said, mouth turning down at the sides. “So we decided to call it a night. We’ve got the race tomorrow and should probably get some rest so we’re in prime form. Either of you guys want to take my turkey home? My oven isn’t big enough to fit an eighteen pounder and Phoebe said one turkey is more than enough for her.”
“I’ll take it back to Mom’s with mine,” Tucker said, rising from his chair. “With everyone but Dylan staying over for the holidays, she’ll probably appreciate extra food lying around.” He leaned in, pulling Phoebe in for a hug. “Good to see you, Phoebe. I’ll be cheering you on tomorrow from the sidelines.”
“Good to see you, too.” Phoebe turned back to Colt, smiling when she saw he already had both of their turkeys in hand. “Walk me home?”
“Absolutely,” he said, his chest feeling lighter now that he was about to have her all to himself.
And it wasn’t just because they were going back to her place to get naked. That was part of it—his cock hadn’t fallen off for God’s sake—but it was more than that. He was just happy that soon he wouldn’t have to resist the urge to touch her or hide how much he enjoyed being in her company.
Not like you did a very good job of that, anyway, seeing as Tucker’s convinced you’re in love with the woman.
The thought made his stomach feel unsettled. He had spent most of the day staring at the phone, wondering if Phoebe was going to call. And he’d lain awake for hours the night before, replaying every touch, every kiss, and that troubling moment when she’d acted like what had happened between them was no big deal.
And then he’d stopped by the boutique flower store—not the flower section of the Rocky Top Grocery—and bought her ridiculously expensive flowers.
He had made out like the gift wasn’t a big deal, but that was only because Phoebe had made it clear she wasn’t thrilled about him bringing flowers. In fact, she’d looked ready to bolt for her front door, while all he’d been thinking about was saying whatever he had to say to make her stay. He was usually good at telling girls what they wanted to hear, good at working the angles and getting what he wanted without getting in too deep.
But he was beginning to suspect that he was already in too deep and, like Tucker had said, over his head.
“What’s wrong?” Phoebe squeezed his hand as they waited to cross the increasingly busy street. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Just thinking,” he said, his fingers tightening around hers.
Even holding her hand affected him, sending a warm, content feeling spreading through his veins and making his cock thicken inside his jeans. He’d been semi-hard all night, his body refusing to let down its guard on the off chance that Phoebe needed to be fucked at a moment’s notice.
But it wouldn’t be just “fucking” and that was part of the problem.
“If you’re tired, I can take a rain check,” Phoebe said, blinking up at him, oblivious to the fact that she was throwing his entire world into complete chaos. “We probably should get some rest before tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to rest.” Anger sparked to life low in his belly, helping banish all the soft, confusing feelings as he leaned down to whisper in Phoebe’s ear, “I want you, naked and underneath me as soon as possible.”
She shivered, sending a wave of satisfaction through him.
She wanted him and clearly had no issues with the sexual part of their relationship. He would keep the focus on getting her naked and getting them both off and let the feeling shit take a back seat. It had taken him by surprise yesterday, but now he was prepared and he knew exactly how to get them back on solid friends-with-benefits ground.
“Are you ready for me to fuck you?” he asked, observing the way her breath immediately began to come faster. “To take you in every dirty way I’ve been thinking about today?”
She didn’t say a word, but her nod and the way her tongue slipped out to dampen her lips told him everything he needed to know.
“Come on.” He pulled her off the curb and across the street, practically jogging the last few feet to her porch and up the stairs. By the time he reached the door, his heart was slamming in his chest and his cock was straining to get free of his jeans and he knew they were never going to make it all the way upstairs to the bedroom.
The second he slammed the door behind them, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her with all the hunger she’d built inside of him with every smile and laugh and sideways glance. He tore at her clothing, hands flying as he unzipped zippers and popped buttons and tugged her sweater over her head. When he had her in nothing but her jeans and her bra, he took a moment to chuck his own coat before grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around.
“Hold on to the stair railings,” he breathed into her hair as he worked her jeans down over her hips.
“The balusters, you mean?” Her breath hitched as he jerked her jeans down her legs to her ankles.
“I don’t care what they’re called,” he said, urging her to step free of her pants. “I just want you to hold onto them and don’t let go until I tell you to.”
She reached up, her fingers closing around the balusters as he stood, working open the close of his jeans and shoving jeans and boxers down far enough to free his cock. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her against him, groaning as she arched back against his aching length.
He smoothed his free hand up her ribcage, pushing her bra up and over her breasts, exposing them to his touch.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you from behind since yesterday,” he murmured into her hair as he found one of her already tight nipples and began to tease it between his fingers and thumb, drawing a moan from low in her throat. “I’ve imagined you like this, with your hands over your head, holding on for dear life while I take you.”
Her breath shuddered out. “The entire time we were bowling all I could think about was being back here with you with your hands all over me.”
“Everywhere, baby,” he promised as he nudged her legs wider with his shoe and the hand at her waist dipped down the front of her panties. “I’m going to own every inch of you tonight.”
His fingers found where she was slick and swollen and he pushed sharply in and up, drawing a cry from the back of her throat.
“Fuck, Phoebe,” he groaned. “I can’t wait. I’m going to take you, and I’m not going to be gentle. Tell me if it hurts, but if it doesn’t I don’t want to hear you say a word until you come screaming my name, do you understand me?”
She nodded, breath coming faster as he pulled his hands away from her breast and her dripping pussy. “Yes, Colt, I—”
Her words ended in one of those sexy little cries of hers as he ripped her panties in half. Before the silky fabric had slid down her legs, he positioned himself and drove into her in one rough stroke. He didn’t wait for her to relax into his thrust; he didn’t stop to check in with her after he was buried inside of her tight heat. He simply gripped her full hips in his hands, his fingers digging sharply into her soft curves, and rode her hard.
He fucked her until her bottom flesh rippled every time he drove home. He took her as hard and as fast as he’d promised, determined to make this as rough, raw, and emotion-free as possible.
But sometime between the moment he reached around to flick his fingers across her clit—needing to feel her come before he could even think about getting off—and the moment she arched back into him, her beautiful body trembling against his as she
came so hard he could feel every ripple as she pulsed around him, he lost track of his original intention.
By the time he came, clutching her to him, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the sweet smell at the curve of her neck, all he could think about was how beautiful she was, how perfect she was, and how all he wanted to do for the rest of his life was be buried inside her, making her feel good, making her sob his name the way she was right now.
“Oh my God, Colt.” She sucked in a breath as she shook her head back and forth. “Oh my God.”
“Good?” He smoothed her hair to one side so he could kiss her shoulder.
She sniffed and shuddered in his arms, but didn’t reply for a long moment, a moment in which a car drove by outside, its headlights momentarily illuminating Phoebe’s tear-streaked face.
Heart clenching in his chest, he pulled out, his gut clenching as he realized he must have hurt her. “I’m sorry, Phoebes,” he said, turning her gently around and pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” she said, pressing closer to his chest. “Not at all.”
He smoothed her hair away from her face, but she didn’t look up at him and another wave of self-loathing coursed through him. “No, I took things too far. I should have made sure you were up for a little rough stuff before I went there. I’m an asshole.”
Finally, she looked up, the tears in her eyes breaking his heart even when she smiled through them. “You’re not an asshole, Colt, not even a little bit. You’re the complete opposite, actually.” She swallowed as she swiped the tears from her cheeks. “This has nothing to do with you. I mean, it does have to do with you, but—” She broke off with a sigh as she tugged her bra back into place. “I don’t know. I’m just…confused.”