Love Garage

by Liz Crowe

  Aiden studied his image in the bathroom mirror. He’d developed his own coping strategies for Dom’s blatant hostility. Running away had worked a few times, until the one time that had scared him so badly, he’d never considered it an option again. Confronting him came next, with Antony in his corner.

  That had netted Aiden his first black eye and three broken fingers.

  The patriarch had come down hard on his third son after that, administering a patented “go get a switch off that tree, pull down your pants, and grab your ankles” sort of treatment. Then he’d whirled brandishing the switch, to face his other sons and their mother who had been made to watch.

  “Get yourselves straight on one thing; I will not stand for y’all treating each other like this. You—” He’d faced the stoic, red-faced Dominic, who had his jeans back up and waited to be told he could leave. “You will not treat your own brother that way.” He’d pointed to Aiden who was trembling in fear, fingers stiff and taped together, his eye socket aching. “Look at him, Dominic. You did that. You beat up a kid who had no means of defending himself yet. And I won’t put up with that.”

  He’d tossed the stick down and stomped away from the crowd, muttering about “ungrateful spawn.” Dominic had glared at Aiden. But their mother had shooed the other three away, telling them to get her purse so she could give them money to go down to Shugs on their bikes for ice cream.

  Aiden had gone into his parents’ bedroom and grabbed it then had run past the others who were hanging around in the kitchen, silent and cowed by their father’s aggression. Ice cream had never sounded better at that moment. He’d run down the steps to the back yard, stopping a half second when he didn’t spot her right away.

  He’d skirted the recently installed pool, and the small pool house where they were required to put away every ball and float every night.

  “Mama?” He’d made his way toward the large detached garage that housed the horse trailer and the riding lawn mower he’d been dying to learn how to use. “Hey, Mama, I’ve got—”

  Rounding the corner of the garage, he’d caught sight of her, sitting in one of the old lawn chairs. Dominic’s face had been pressed against her shoulder as he shook and sobbed. She’d been running her hands down his back. Aiden couldn’t hear her words, but he saw her eyes swimming with tears.

  Dominic had stepped back and hiccupped, rubbing his eyes. It had struck Aiden how very young Dom seemed just then. To him, Dom had always acted so many years older, stronger, bigger, more experienced, and better at everything. But at that moment, he’d resembled nothing more than a hapless kid, tear-streaked, dirty, and miserable.

  Their mother had taken Dominic’s face between her hands. “Why are you so angry all the time, my love?”

  “I don’t know,” the boy had wailed, flinging himself into his mother’s arms again, sobbing as if his heart had broken.

  “Yo, punk.”

  Aiden jumped at the sound of Antony’s voice. He must have been standing here mooning around for nearly twenty minutes.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need you to play secretary today. File all that shit I paid there.” Antony gestured toward a pile of invoices and tax forms stacked on the corner of the desk. “Then line up the crap I still owe over here.” He pointed to the ancient, cracked leather desk blotter that he’d inherited when he’d taken over their uncle’s business.

  “Sure, no problem.” Aiden poured them both a cup of coffee. He’d weaned Antony off the cheap grocery store brand in the last week, ignoring complaints about the five-dollar-a-pound difference. “So, what’s Rosalee up to? Haven’t seen her in a few days.” He tried to appear innocent, as if he were just inquiring on Antony’s behalf. His weird obsession with her had only ramped up by a thousand, however.

  “Why? You her fucking social secretary now?”

  “No, just wondering. Seemed as though you guys sort of hit a, ah, milestone the other night and all. I figured she’d be over some this week. I don’t know….” Antony always did have the foulest mouth of them all, even growing up, which had netted him his share of parental whacks to the back of his head and, later, more money in the family swear jar than anyone.

  “She is not coming over to make you dinner, if that’s what you’re hoping for. And my milestone with her is not for your consideration, perv.”

  “Dude, you knew I was home. That didn’t stop you.”

  “Whatever.” Antony’s eyes darkened in a way that forced Aiden to drop the subject.

  They sipped in silence, listening as the mechanics arrived, opened up the bay doors, and cranked the horrible country music. Aiden wanted a cigarette so badly right then he nearly took his battered pack out of his jeans pocket and offered one to his brother.

  “I’m not good for her. I’m just an old grumpy asshole anymore. She deserves someone better.”

  Aiden raised an eyebrow at the impressive contiguous string of sentences that had just emerged from the other man’s mouth. “Well, let’s start with ‘yes, you are a grumpy asshole.’ But you aren’t old. And while she is pretty awesome, I’d say that you’re not a bad catch yourself.” He winced at that; he’d just talked Antony into something he wanted. But he went on, mostly as a distraction from the nicotine craving hammering at his nerve endings.

  “I mean you’re a successful business owner. You have your own home, with land, and horses. I’m not sure what the hell is going on with your daughter but—”

  Antony held up a hand. “That topic is off limits. You’ve been gone too long to have a say in it anyway, out getting college degrees so you can mooch off me and learn how to change a fucking tire, finally, at twenty-eight.”

  “I’m twenty-seven.” Petulance crept into his voice.

  Antony shot him a grin and Aiden’s heart lightened. “I stand corrected,” he said, and got up.

  Aiden remained seated. “Listen, Antony, you’ve been letting Crystal’s ghost browbeat you for too long. You owe it to yourself to move on. Maybe you owe it to your daughter not to be such a dick. You still have time to save that girl from herself you know.”

  “Funny, I didn’t realize you had a degree in deep psychoanalysis, Dr. Freud.”

  “You’re a miserable shell of yourself, Antony, seriously. I’m…Mama is worried about you. She told me. She thinks that Rosalee….” He stopped and gulped, recalling why his mother had voiced this fact to him before going on. “Rosalee is great for you, if you’d just let her be. She’s hurt too, but she…she loves you, right?”

  Aiden tried to keep the questioning tone to a minimum. He had no idea how Rosalee felt, but she and Antony had been “together” for all intents and purposes, a more or less recognized couple, according even to the increasingly drunken Tricia and her gal pal the other night at the bar.

  There’d been plenty of girlfriends right up until Antony got the proverbial smack between the eyes by the lovely Crystal. Guy had been a regular cocksman, if rumors were true. Before Crystal, his urban legendary prowess conquering girls had even been more impressive than Dom’s. The concept that Antony had gone without pussy for the better part of twelve years boggled his mind.

  “You don’t understand. You’ll never understand.”

  “Maybe not, but I do know this—you are going to ‘grumpy asshole’ yourself into a heart attack or a stroke, and then our mother will kick my butt for not taking better care of you. Go out with the woman again, Antony, for God’s sake. Be romantic. I figure you know how to do that. Then get laid again. A lot. It makes you slightly easier to be around. Rosalee is smart, gorgeous, funny, she tolerates Dominic, her son is kind of a pain, but she’s pretty…and hot…and….”

  “Watch it there, punk. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to be in my shoes right now, with the pretty and hot woman, who is my girlfriend last I checked.”

  “There, see, you said it. Was that so hard?”

  “Fuck off.”

  At that moment, Aiden acknowledged he absolutely had to let go of his R
osalee fantasies. His mother had been right, as usual. Rosie belonged to Antony. They needed each other. Besides, Aiden had a date tonight with Renee.

  The sound of a familiar throat clearing made them look up to see their father standing in the office doorway. He tossed a set of keys, and Antony caught them.

  “Differential’s fucked up on the van again.”

  “What’s wrong with it this time?”

  “How the hell do I know? It’s why I have a mechanic in the family.” He glared at Aiden. “Two of them, it would appear.”

  Aiden swallowed the urge to rise to that bait, his ingrained anti-swear training making him wince. “Coffee?” he asked, holding up an empty cup.

  “Sure.” Their father took his cup and sat on the couch, staring down into it as if it held the universe’s secrets. Antony met Aiden’s eyes over the top of his head. “Boys, we need to call a family meeting.”

  “Oh?” Aiden sat in the chair across from his father, the man he’d hardly known at all growing up, since by the time Aiden had joined the Love throng, the brewery had expanded, the pub had opened, and things were going full throttle, requiring Anton’s full attention seven days a week. “Why?”

  “Your mother is…well, she’s sicker than we thought.” Anton ran a shaking hand down his face. “I need you to call Kieran for me. I already told Dom. Let’s make it tomorrow night. I’ll grill. Bring Rosie.”

  “Dad, Rosie is….” Antony’s face flushed.

  “As much a part of the family as anyone. You’re the only numb nuts who can’t see it.” He rose and left his half-finished coffee on the desk. “AliceLynn will be there, too. This affects her.”

  “Dad….”

  “No. No arguments. We have to make some changes. And you,” he pointed at his oldest son, “You are going to have to man-up regarding your daughter.” He left without giving either of them a chance to speak.

  “Fuck,” Antony muttered. “I’ve got work to do. And a date tonight.” His eyes held nothing but anxiety for a second, before the mantle of eldest brotherhood slipped over him. He squared his shoulders. “Call Kieran. Tell him to bring that bitch of a fiancée if he wants to, although she’s steered pretty clear of Love family business so far. We aren’t sophisticated enough for her, I don’t think.”

  “Will do.” Aiden picked up the stack of paid invoices, his mind spinning in a million different directions, but all around a single concept.

  His mother was dying.

  Chapter Nine

  “Aiden.”

  He sat straight up, blinking in the bright sunlight, confused by his surroundings. Whiteness from pale walls assaulted his optic nerves. Combined with the sunlight, it seared his brain with the force of a lightning bolt. Turning his aching head slightly to the left, he saw her, Renee, she of the expensive red wine and blow job skills he’d almost forgotten.

  She held a cup of coffee, and wore a short, silky robe, and a smile. He groaned and flopped back on the pillow. While he didn’t exactly regret a night spent between the thighs of a woman, at that precise moment Aiden wished he hadn’t done it—had just driven her home, kissed her good night, and gone back to Antony’s house. He needed to edit his book. The thing sat there flashing on the junky laptop screen, and piled in yet another printout, mocking him.

  “I won’t sell myself to an agent,” it taunted him. A lot.

  “Aiden, your phone is blowin’ up with texts. I think you’d better—”

  “Come over here.” He let his mind shut down. Way too much adult world lurked outside the four walls of this strange, pale, virginal-white bedroom. “I have something for you.”

  “You are so bad. You always were.” She slid between the sheets and curled against him.

  “Hmm, well I’m pretty sure you’re one of the ladies who made me this way.” He sighed with satisfaction when she ran her hand across his chest and tweaked his nipples. “Lower,” he whispered into her hair, closing his eyes and sucking in a breath of her just-showered soapiness.

  Music wafted in from some other room—The Eagles, one of his oldie favorites, and one of the bands they used to listen to while screwing around in the lowest level of his house across town. She lifted the sheet, climbed on top of him and kissed her way down his body. When her lips covered his erection, teasing, sucking, and messing with him in that lovely way only she could do, Aiden thought he might just move in and stay here forever. He’d yet to find a woman as adept at this, or as willing to bestow it.

  Threading his fingers in her hair, he tilted his hips and gave into it, moaning when her finger teased his balls and then went lower, circling his ass while she continued that delectable suction.

  As he observed her head bobbing up and down, the sensation of acting like a selfish pig stole over him.

  But she liked it or at least she sure used to. I didn’t tell her to do it.

  “Holy shit!” He dropped his head on the pillow and arched when her finger hit his prostate and stroked it. He held her head, hips pumping, thinking he might never stop coming, until finally, he did.

  Renee released him with a loud, wet pop, before heading to the bathroom, leaving Aiden spent, gasping for breath, and with that creeping feeling of uselessness slipping over him again. He closed his eyes, giving in to the rush of hormones to his brain, wishing he could sleep the rest of the day.

  “Honey, you gotta get this phone. It’s buzzed itself clean off the dresser.” The device hit his chest. He sighed and grabbed it, observing Renee as she stuck dangly earrings in her ears, loving the sight of her fully dressed, sexy self.

  “You’re amazing. Let’s stay in bed all day. I need more Renee time.”

  Her expression bordered on annoyance, the way she might ponder a toddler unwilling to pick up his toys at bedtime. He frowned and swung his feet around to floor, biting back a rush of queasiness from to much wine the night before.

  “Never mind. I know you have a business to run.”

  “And you have to go mow your daddy’s lawn, I think.” She nodded to the phone that he kept ignoring then click-clacked over to him in a pair of fuck-me pumps that mesmerized him for a split second. Feeling drugged and goofy, he grabbed her ass and pressed his face into the thin fabric of her shirt. She ran her hands through his hair, but stopped him before he could lift the silk and get at her tits. Such amazing tits on a woman he’d never had since Renee—huge, firm, with nipples so sensitive, he could lick one and make her come.

  “You spoiled me for all other women.”

  “Really. Might want to tell Tricia that.” She tucked another strand of her hair into a glittery clip then crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Um, huh?” He flopped back once more, the phone clutched to his chest. “How did you—”

  “It’s so cute how quick you forgot the way things get around in this town, lover boy.” Renee sat next to him and ran her smooth, warm hand along the inside of his thigh. When she hit his balls she cupped them then squeezed a little too hard for comfort.

  “Hey,” he yelped, lunging up. “Watch out. You don’t wanna hurt the Love family jewels.”

  She grinned and planted a wet kiss on him, her small tongue exploring until he tingled all over. But she kept her hand on his nuts, distracting, and a little alarming. He moved it away.

  “What? You’re jealous?” He got up and stretched, sensing her gaze crawl all over his back view. His head buzzed at the thought of Renee threatened by anyone.

  “Not exactly. Tricia’s my friend, you know. We don’t keep secrets from each other. We tend to compare notes, too, sweet cheeks.” She smacked his ass so hard he winced. She got to her feet slowly, inch by curvy, perfect inch, and stood close, up in his grill, her hand on his flaccid cock, her bright red, fruity-smelling mouth hovering over his.

  His brain had already concocted ways to get back there, tonight, with her in nothing but those killer high heels. She ran her finger across his cheek then kissed him, sucking his lower lip into her mouth and biting it once.

&nbs
p; “You’re feisty this morning, Miss Renee,” he whispered into her neck. “I like it.”

  “Well, just so you know, I heard all about your little fuck session in the grass. Bourbon sure does strange things to my boy.”

  He let go of her, embarrassed. But she held on to his dick, which rose to the occasion albeit slowly.

  “I’m not your boy, Renee.” His temples pounded.

  “Oh, relax, lover. I’m just jerking your chain.” She gave his cock another somewhat too-tight squeeze then let him go. Aiden blinked, willing it not to get any harder at the sight of the woman in front of him, and the memory of her many talents. It didn’t work, so he was left there, like a dork with a boner, glaring at her.

  The buzzing phone broke the moment. She grinned and blew him a kiss. “Let me know next time you and Tricia want to party. I know a place a lot less buggy, and with no one around to catch us.”

  He stared at her swaying hips, processing her words. Finally, without letting his mind wander into the realm of a possible three-way, he picked up the phone.

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes and wandering into Renee’s fussy, hot pink-accented bathroom.

  “Son, you had better be talking to me from the grave,” his father growled in his ear. “I’ve been sending you texts for an hour now.”

  “Uh, oh, sorry. I was….”

  “I don’t care whose thighs you’re using as earmuffs. Get your sorry ass over here and mow my lawn. Antony doesn’t need you, but since you aren’t answering I guess you knew that.”

  Aiden opened his mouth to respond but the device lay silent in his palm.

  Chapter Ten

  Aiden managed to skirt the edges of a hangover with a lot of water and a decent meal at his mother’s kitchen table. When his father made an appearance after spending the morning at the brewery, he smacked the back of Aiden’s head and told him to stop mooching and get to work, kissed his wife on the lips then dropped into his leather recliner with a tall glass of iced tea.

  “Don’t be mean, Anton,” his mother stated mildly as she cleared the table and shoved Aiden out the door.