Hard To Handle (Teach Me Book 2)

by RC Boldt

  Her mother shook her head. “You know that poor Miller was going to be alone tonight? And he wasn’t going to even mention it to anyone until I told him it would hurt my feelings if he didn’t come over.” Her mother winked. “I may have also mentioned that he shouldn’t make an old woman cry on the holidays, either.”

  Laney clicked her tongue. “Ma! That poor guy!”

  “Oh, hush. You know I can’t let anyone be alone on the holidays.” Turning to head back into the kitchen to get the stemware, she continued, “Just like I couldn’t let Zachariah be around that wretched woman who calls herself his mother.”

  Laney swore she heard the sound of a needle scratching across a record. Wait, what?

  Staring after her mother, she waited for her to return with the glasses before speaking.

  “What’s this about Zach? He’s coming tonight?” That was a first. Yes, he came to their designated Sunday dinners, as all her friends did. But holidays? Never.

  Sharply, her mother said, “Now, Laney, you’d better behave yourself. I know that you don’t get along with him, but that boy doesn’t have a family like ours. He needs to be around a loving group of people, especially at the holidays.” She reached to cup her hands around Laney’s face, eyes alit with love. “Please be kind to him. For me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh! I almost forgot. I think your brother might be bringing someone, too, so put out another place setting, just in case.” The older woman darted into the kitchen, again.

  “Oh, no,” Laney groaned as she resumed setting the table.

  “Now, remember Lawson’s joining us since his parent’s flight back from their trip got delayed,” her mother called from the kitchen. “I just wish Tate hadn’t flown home to spend this Christmas with her aunt and uncle and that awful cousin of hers. Those three don’t sound very welcoming.”

  The fact that Foster planned on bringing his latest conquest with him to Christmas Eve dinner, or that her best friend was probably spending a tortuous time back in Ohio with her relatives, suddenly paled to the fact that Zach hadn’t mentioned he’d intended to come to dinner that evening. They had been together earlier that morning when she had tried to head home and he’d ‘convinced’ her to stay a bit longer—once in bed and then in the shower—before she had finally left his house.

  Why hadn’t he told her he would see her later on that evening?

  Because it’s just sex, Laney. Just like you wanted. Nothing more.

  Then why did that suddenly bother her so much?

  * * *

  “Hey, Mrs. Clause! Want to sit on my lap and tell me if you’ve been a good girl?” Lawson called out to Laney as they entered Momma K.’s house.

  Zach lightly punched his friend in the arm. “Watch your mouth, man.”

  Lawson frowned at him, rubbing his arm. “Ease up on the ’roids, dude.” Then, turning to head into the kitchen, he yelled out, “I’m looking for a hot, older woman to be my Christmas gift! Know anyone, Momma K.?”

  Zach could hear the older woman cackle. “Oh, Lawson. You’re on the naughty list, no doubt about it.”

  “That’s why you love me so much, Momma K.” In a loud whisper, he added, “More than the others, right? It’s totally between us. Promise.”

  Zach shook his head with a chuckle, hearing the older woman laugh. Holding the covered dish he had to place in Momma K.’s refrigerator, he slowed as he came to stand before Laney.

  “Hey.” The secret smile she gave him made him smile in return.

  “Hey.”

  Wow. If this conversation became any more elaborate, he wasn’t sure he could take it.

  “I’ve, uh, got to put this in the fridge.” He gestured to the dish he held.

  Laney’s eyes flickered to the container before widening in surprise. “You … made that?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he told her proudly. He had slaved over it, wanting to make Momma K. proud and not regret sharing her secret recipe with him. “I need to get it in there.”

  “O-kay,” she answered slowly, watching him as if in a daze as he turned toward the kitchen.

  Huh. Maybe Momma K. had really been on to something with the whole ‘Women love a man who know their way around a kitchen’ thing after all.

  * * *

  “My favorite story is when your dad’s zipper pull kept getting stuck at the bottom of his khaki shorts.” Foster broke off in laughter at the memory of it. Lawson had been telling them stories about his mother. She was the sweetest woman but definitely a little … okay, a lot ditzy. She loved Lawson’s stories about his parents. They were the typical ‘opposites attract’ couple and were always fun to be around.

  Everyone was sitting around the table, after it had been cleared of their dishes, trading stories and chatting. It was one of Laney’s favorite things about dinner nights at her mother’s.

  Lawson threw his head back, laughing. “Yeah, man. That was terrible.” He turned to Miller, who hadn’t been around to hear the story when it had originally happened. “So, my mom gets this brilliant idea of somehow attaching this key chain—one that has a round, yellow ball with a smiley face on it—to my Dad’s zipper pull. You know, so that he would always be able to pull it up.

  “Once she says she’d fixed his shorts, my dad goes to try them on, and pulls them up to fasten them … with this big, smiley face ball hanging from his zipper.” Lawson broke off in laughter, the rest of them joining him.

  “I could totally see her doing that,” Laney giggled.

  Miller shook his head, eyes tearing up with laughter. “Oh, man. I can only imagine how well that went down.”

  “Exactly. He was like, ‘Sharon! There’s no way in hell I’m going out in public with a smiley face ball dangling from my junk!’” Lawson had deepened his voice, imitating his father before changing over to a high-pitched and wispy voice, like his mother. “And she goes, ‘Oh, Paul, they’ll just think you’re really happy!’”

  Her mother chuckled. “Lawson, your parents would kill you if they knew you were sharing that story with us, again.” She turned to Foster with a pointed look. “Speaking of sharing, I thought you were going to share a special woman with us this evening.”

  “Sharing is caring, bro,” Lawson said.

  “Word,” Zach agreed and the two bumped fists.

  “You two ladies done?” Foster glared at them before answering. “I decided against it, Ma. She got a little too clingy all of a sudden.”

  “Gee, I wonder why. Maybe because you banged her seven ways ’til Sunday,” Laney commented sarcastically.

  “Laney,” her mother warned.

  “What? It’s the truth!” She turned to Miller, who was watching the whole exchange with amusement. “You work with him, so you can attest to this.”

  “Whoa,” Miller held up his hands, “I know nothing.”

  “Schultz!” Zach and Lawson both cheered, high fiving one other, nodding to Miller.

  “Nicely done, man. Not many know old Hogan’s Heroes references,” Zach told him, impressed, to which Miller just laughed. Poor Miller. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when her mother had suckered him into coming to dinner that night.

  “So,” her mother continued, “when are you going to get married and give me grandbabies? Anytime soon? You’re not getting any younger, Foster Bryant.”

  “Oooh! She’s pulling out the big guns with the middle name usage.” Zach pretended like he was a sideline commentator, speaking in a hushed tone.

  Lawson joined in. “That’s right, Mayson. Use of the middle name is definitely indicative of her seriousness.”

  Foster shot them another hard glare before responding, “Ma, it’s not like my biological clock is ticking.” He shuddered. “I have plenty of time to find the right woman. I just haven’t found her yet.”

  “Well, considering you go through women like Grant went through Richmond, I would think it shouldn’t be long before you find the right one,” Lawson offered with a shrug. At
Foster’s stony glance, he said, “Hey, I only speak the truth.”

  “Yeah, man. And you know what they say about truth …” Zach leaned in toward Lawson before the two men finished in unison, bellowing preacher-like style, “The truth shall set you free!”

  “Well done.” Lawson nodded, impressed.

  “I try.” Zach pretended to dust off his shoulders.

  “Anyway,” Laney interrupted before the two men could get more rambunctious, “I think it’s time for dessert.”

  “Suh-weet! I might actually get to have some without Tate here with her hollow leg.” Lawson rubbed his flat stomach.

  “Truer words have not been spoken,” Foster agreed.

  Miller muttered, “Tate has always been able to out eat just about everyone.”

  They all cast startled looks his way. “I mean, from what I’ve heard,” he added quickly.

  Hmm. Interesting.

  “Yeah, man, she can certainly out eat all of us here at this table,” Foster told him. “You haven’t made it to more than three dinner nights, so you probably hadn’t noticed. Check it out next time. It’s epic.”

  “Zach? You want to come help me dish the tiramisu?” Her mother rose from the table.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Zach stood to follow her into the kitchen.

  “Suck up,” Lawson coughed into his hand to which Zach casually scratched his nose. With his middle finger.

  “Well, I can’t wait for the dessert. If it’s half as good as dinner was, I’ll be in the gym for hours the next few days.” Miller patted his stomach and Laney rolled her eyes. Miller had nothing but muscle on him. And the man had abs of steel, which she knew from slapping him playfully and nearly having to head to the emergency room afterward for possible broken fingers.

  “I took a look-see when Zach brought it into the kitchen and it looked awesome,” Lawson said.

  “What?” Foster stared at him.

  “What do you mean, what?”

  Her brother tilted his head to the side. “You mean to tell me that Zach made the tiramisu?”

  Lawson smiled wide. “Yep.”

  “No fucking way, man.” Her brother’s disbelief was apparent.

  “Foster Bryant! Language!” came their mother’s reprimand from the kitchen.

  “Sorry, Ma!” Foster leaned closer, laying his strong forearms on the table and whispered, “No fucking way.”

  Lawson sat back, arms folded across his chest. “Way.”

  Just then, Zach and their mother rejoined them, carrying plates of the decadent dessert, placing it in front of each of them.

  “Holy shit,” Foster’s words were drawn out as he looked down at his plate, before uttering another apology to their mother for his language. Turning his eyes to Zach, he asked, “You made this?”

  Zach nodded with evident pride on his face.

  Laney found herself staring down at her plate, stunned. She was vigilant about what she put into her body since she’d always struggled with her weight, so she didn’t tend to indulge in desserts often. It was more like a once a year thing which wasn’t a big deal since she didn’t have a serious sweet tooth. But, on that rare occasion, she would choose her favorite dessert. Her dessert choice was one that most didn’t really notice or know about, aside from her mother and brother.

  Tiramisu.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ZACH WAS AWAKENED CHRISTMAS MORNING to the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand. Grabbing the annoying device, he saw Laney’s name on the screen, his mouth tilting up into a smile.

  “Merry Christmas, Laney,” he answered, his voice a bit hoarse from sleep.

  There was a beat of silence before she spoke. “Merry Christmas, Zach.”

  There it was, that zing whenever she spoke his name.

  She cleared her throat. “My mother would like to know when you’re coming over today. You are coming, right?”

  “Would you like me to come, Laney?” he asked suggestively.

  He heard her give an exasperated sigh. “Just get your butt over here already, okay?”

  “I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, great. And, uh, Zach?” She sounded almost hesitant.

  “Yes, Laney?”

  Her voice lowered to speak in a hushed tone as if she were trying to prevent being overheard. “Tonight, do you think I, um—”

  He decided to put her out of her misery. “I had planned on kidnapping you and bringing you back here to celebrate Christmas with you my way, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Laney let out a long, airy sigh. “I can’t wait.”

  “Me neither, gorgeous. Me neither. See you soon.” After ending the call, he set the phone back down and stared up at the ceiling. The fact that Laney wanted to be with him on Christmas night was pretty big. Even if she did only want sex. It was still Christmas, a special holiday.

  And if she was coming over tonight, she would see what that meant in the world of Zachariah Mayson.

  * * *

  Celebrate Christmas with her his way? That sounded absolutely intriguing.

  “What has you looking all flushed, sis?” Her brother’s question startled her, bringing her out of her daze.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all,” her words rushed out.

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re acting suspicious. Who were you on the phone with?”

  “No one.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I take a look at your phone, then?” He reached for it and she squealed, dodging him.

  “I don’t screen your calls, Fos,” came her tart response.

  “You’re also not the oldest.” He was giving her his ‘I’m a Navy SEAL and you’ll tell me what I want to know, now’ look. Pffft. Like that would work on her.

  “Whatever, dude.”

  “Tell me who was on the phone or I’ll tell Mom who spilled paint on her favorite area rug,” he taunted with a wide grin.

  Laney gaped at her brother, before crossing her arms with a scowl. “Go ahead. I’ll just have to tell her who used her bedroom to get a blow job from Melissa Rimes in the eleventh grade.”

  Foster’s eyes widened. “How do you know about that?”

  Her head tipped to the side, eyebrows arched. “You’re weren’t always a stealthy Navy SEAL, dude.” Then, she made a face. “Plus, you mewled like a baby.”

  He just stared at her a long moment before he finally spoke. “Okay, you win.” As he walked toward the living room, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Until he tossed over his shoulder, “Next time, tell loverboy he needs to make more tiramisu.”

  Shit. I just got played.

  Damn Navy SEAL.

  * * *

  Laney followed Zach up the steps to his house later that night. She wondered exactly how he celebrated Christmas. Were they going to do it beneath his Christmas tree? Did he have some leftover frosting he’d used on the Christmas cookies he had made? Because, crap, those cookies had been the equivalent of nectar from the gods. And the fact that he had made them …

  He slid his flip flops onto the mat at the door and set his keys on the side table in the entryway as she did the same. Trailing him down the hall to his bedroom, she smiled.

  “We’re going to start here? Celebrating Christmas your way?” she asked with a saucy wink.

  He looked at her curiously. “Not exactly.” Walking over to his dresser, he pulled out a pair of boxer briefs and tossed them to her. “You’ll need this.” He removed a cotton T-shirt from his closet and tossed it her way, as well. “And this.”

  Laney stood there, dumbfounded, holding the clothing in her arms. He hadn’t turned around yet, but had his back to her as he worked the buttons of his shirt, removing it and placing it in his laundry bin. He shucked his jeans off, adding them to the bin, allowing her a quick glimpse of his taut, muscular ass before he pulled on a pair of well-worn pajama pants and an old UCF T-shirt. Turning around, he appeared surprised to see her still standing there, dressed as she had been from earlier.


  “Are you going to change?”

  “What? Oh. Yeah, I was just, um … yes. I’m going to change.” Good grief, could she sound any more flustered?

  He gave her a smile that lit up those amazing eyes of his. “I’ll meet you in the living room.”

  As he left her to stare after him, she realized that their versions of celebrating Christmas might be vastly different.

  * * *

  “Are you crying?” Zach peered at Laney just as she dipped her head, causing her hair to fall, creating a barrier around her face.

  “No,” came the muffled reply.

  Yep, she was totally crying.

  They were sprawled beside one another in his oversized chair, their legs thrown over the large ottoman in front of it. They had been having a Christmas movie marathon, watching all the sappy holiday movies they could stand. And it was pretty damn perfect, if he had anything to say about it.

  “It’s totally okay if you’re crying,” he told her, leaning closer, lowering his voice. “I get ‘dust’ in my eyes at the end of Love Actually when he does those cue cards.”

  When her hand slid to push back her hair, he saw her glistening eyes. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Really.” Moving to stand, he picked up their mugs from the side table and headed toward the kitchen. “Want some more of my famous hot cocoa?”

  Zach heard her release a sigh. “I probably shouldn’t but maybe just one more, please.”

  “Coming right up.” Zach heated up the almond milk in each of their mugs and added some cocoa before stirring it together. He returned to the living room, handing her mug to her and placing his on the coaster sitting on the side table. Then he walked back and opened his pantry to grab what had become one of his favorite snacks. He brought it with him, sliding back into his spot beside her in the chair before opening the bag.

  “Noooo. Not you, too?” Laney pointed to the bag of organic cheese puffs. “Seriously? If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Raine had stock in that company with the way she gets people hooked on those things.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Mmm, but they’re so good.” He popped one into his mouth, chewing and moaning dramatically before stopping abruptly.