Shameless

by Lex Martin

  I’m laughing and swatting at his rear end in retaliation, trying to keep my glasses on my face, when we reach the kitchen and he slides me down his hard body onto the counter. I shiver and spread my legs to make room for him.

  It's good to see him smiling. I kiss him and enjoy his hard, warm body press against mine as he tangles his hand through my hair.

  I know he’s relieved the social worker’s visit went well yesterday. He was paranoid she didn’t stay long enough, but a quick phone call to his attorney put him at ease. Everything is on track to adopt his niece, and it looks like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

  But I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to his mood change. Since my nightmare earlier this week, he’s been more affectionate. Sweeter. More tender. Almost like… almost like I’m his girlfriend. Almost like he’s finally given in to whatever this is.

  When he leans back, I run my palm down his stubbled chin. “You look hot like this.” He’s beautiful clean-shaven, but there’s something about his grizzled lumberjack vibe that makes me want to rip off all of his clothes with my teeth.

  That little dimple peeks out. “You always look hot. Even when you were telling me off the first time I met you.”

  I gasp. “I did not tell you off,” I say indignantly.

  He laughs and kisses me. “Yeah, I seem to recall you telling me to get the hell off the driveway.”

  “Oh, my God. You’re right.” I drop my head to his shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry.”

  His lips graze my ear. “You were so sexy with that stern look on your face and your fuck-me librarian glasses. And then I thought you were the hot high-school babysitter, and I felt like a deviant for wanting to fuck you senseless.”

  My face burns and I shake my head against him. “Stop, I know I look young.”

  He laughs. “See, you’ve unleashed the real me, raw and unedited.”

  “And all it took was a little naked time and a couple of blow jobs,” I joke, loving how his arm snakes around me.

  “Do not diminish the importance of those blow jobs, babe.” He rubs his nose against mine. “Hey, are you gonna be okay watching Izzy tonight? I hate leaving you guys alone.”

  “Yeah. We'll be fine. Just be careful driving to Austin.” He's starting at that tattoo parlor tonight.

  “I will. I promise.” He kisses me before he strides off to unload the dishwasher. I watch, entranced by the way those jeans hug his rear. When he finishes, he pours two cups of coffee and adds some milk and sweetener to one and hands it to me.

  I smile. “You remember how I take my coffee.”

  “I’d be a dick if I didn’t by now.” My heart does stupid things in my chest. But before I can say anything about his comment, he pushes the sleeves of his Henley up his arms and asks, “Have you seen Izzy’s pink binkie? I couldn’t find it last night.”

  He wanders out of the room and comes back with the baby, who looks adorably rumpled. She actually slept in this morning, which is a miracle of all miracles. Then his voice lightens. “Izzy Pizzy needs her binkie, right, cutie pie?”

  She giggles. “Izzy Pizzy!”

  He kisses her chubby cheek and glances over at me.

  I’m pretty sure little hearts are popping out of my eyes right now. Here is this hot man, tattoos decorating his rugged arms, muscles tugging at the fabric, asking me about the baby’s binkie while he holds her close to his chest. Hello, ovary explosion.

  God, I have it bad for him.

  “What?” he asks, noticing me staring.

  “You’re getting good at this baby stuff.”

  He leans over to kiss me. “Only because this awesome girl I know taught me everything there is to know about babies.”

  Inwardly, I sigh, feeling like a sappy teenager. If I were a cartoon character right now, little birds would be singing over my shoulder.

  Even though everything inside of me warns that I should proceed with caution, I can’t put any conviction behind the idea. I like Brady too much to keep my emotions in reserve.

  In fact, the other L-word comes to mind.

  42

  Katherine

  We spend the next several days prepping for the farmers’ event we're hosting this weekend. I package lotions and soaps and body scrubs while Brady finishes the animal pen for our petting zoo. On the night before the event, by the time we're done and the baby is tucked in bed, we're too tired to function.

  Brady’s in great shape and can usually handle the physical labor around here, but since he started working nights in Austin, he’s totally wiped out. I feel bad that I didn’t cancel the event. He’s running himself ragged. In fact, we’ve been too tired to do more than wrap ourselves around each other at night and fall asleep, but I’ve loved every moment together. Even if we’re just sleeping.

  Once again, my head is in his lap as we watch SportsCenter. He runs his hand through my hair, and it’s so soothing, I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out.

  I love how he touches me. I want to tell him this. I want to tell him so many things, but I don’t. If you were mine, I’d take such good care of you, Brady. I would tell you how your touch lights me on fire. How your scent makes me wild. How your sarcastic mouth makes my heart hum.

  “I mean this in all seriousness,” he says, sounding exhausted. “How the hell did Cal get Melissa pregnant again? When did they have time to have sex?”

  I laugh, opening my mouth to answer, but think better of it and shake my head.

  “No, really,” he continues. “Between the animals, and pruning every bush and shrub this side of Austin, and the baby waking at the worst times, I don’t see how it was even possible. I don’t think I could get my dick up now if I tried.”

  I smile at his honesty. “Is that a challenge?”

  “Okay, well, maybe he’d come out to play for you. I guess what I mean is sustainable fucking.”

  I nearly choke on my spit. “Sustainable fucking?”

  “Yeah, the day-to-day sex I’m assuming a happily married couple enjoys. Sustainable fucking.”

  “You mean you don’t buy the concept that sex flies out the window when you’re married?”

  “Clearly it didn’t with Cal and Melissa.”

  I’m pretty sure Brady would high-five his brother for the amount of sex he had if he only knew. Finally, I let it out. “I may have, ya know, run interference.”

  He leans over me to make eye contact, and I try to hold in my embarrassed grin. “And that means what exactly?”

  I stare up at him and laugh. “I told Mel I’d get up with the baby at night. To make, uh, things easier for them.”

  His brows lift higher. “You watched Izzy so they could…”

  “Have sexy times.”

  He snorts. “Seriously?”

  My face must be ten shades of red right now. “Yes, seriously.”

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you and Melissa were close.”

  “It’s not like we sat around and talked about sex. Not really.” He stares at me like he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. I blow out a breath. “Fine. We talked about sex, but in general terms because it’s not like I wanted details about her and Cal. Eww. Besides, I knew everything was good in the hood.”

  “Good in the hood?” His lips lift up in a smirk.

  “Yes, they got along muy bien.” My eyes widen meaningfully.

  “But you guys didn’t talk about it?”

  “We didn’t have to. Because when they went to pound town, the neighbors a mile away knew exactly how well they got along.”

  Brady shakes his head, looking a little grossed out and… dare I say proud of his bro? I sit up, still laughing.

  “I’m totally mortified that I’m telling you these things, but think of it this way. I was usually already up because of the dirty noises coming from their room. With my bedroom right next to theirs, it was dang near impossible to sleep through it. So I’d go to Izzy’s room, turn up the sound machine and catnap on the couch
in there. If the baby woke up, she and I would snuggle. So therein lies the mystery of how Mel got pregnant again. I admit I aided and abetted.”

  He leans over and kisses me. “You should have charged them more for your services.”

  I laugh and play with the buttons on his Henley. “No way. I’m a hopeless romantic, and those two were definitely in love. Even after they had Izzy.” It’s how I want to be some day with my husband.

  Glancing up, I see Brady’s dark green eyes searching mine.

  He clears his throat. “In case I haven’t told you lately, I’m really grateful for everything you do around here.”

  I reach up and push my hand into his thick, black hair. “Staring at you these last several weeks has been a real hardship. I’m not sure how I’ve survived.”

  He laughs and snakes his hand into my shirt, and I hold back a giggle because I’m pretty sure he’s trying to tickle me. But then his rough fingers stroke the side of my breast, and my breathing quickens.

  As he brushes his lips against mine, he rasps, “Remember what I said earlier about being too tired to have sex?”

  “But can you handle sustainable fucking?” I blush when I say the words, but I don’t look away.

  His eyes darken. “We should probably test that theory. You know, for the sake of science.”

  “As long as it’s for scientific research,” I whisper as I pull him down to me, “challenge accepted.”

  43

  Brady

  I’m not sure what I was expecting today at the farmers’ fair. Maybe something akin to a garage sale where people stop by to nose around half-heartedly in your belongings before they head off to do what they’d really planned for the day.

  But that’s not what’s happening here. Because the whole town has shown up.

  A line of cars is parked up and down our driveway, all the way from the house to the main road over the hill. People meander from table to table, sampling food from The Lone Star Station and other snacks the neighboring farms have set out. Kat invited a local band from Austin to play today, and their country covers of holiday songs are making this feel like a county fair, especially since Mr. Mac strung holiday lights around the stands.

  I rub the stubble on my chin, realizing I’d damn near forgotten it’s almost Christmas. The Scrooge in me is tallying up how much larger our electrical bill is going to be with all of those holiday lights, but it’s hard to be thinking about finances when everyone is so cheery.

  Rubbing my eyes, I try to wake up while I balance Izzy on my hip. It’s been a long week, and as much as I love tattooing, I’m glad I have a break this weekend to hang out with the girls.

  I can’t help but smile as Kat corrals a half dozen kids to pet Stella and Stanley, who hop around excitedly.

  She’s been running back and forth between the animals and our table where she has all of our products set up. Even with dozens of people everywhere, my eyes follow Kat.

  “She’s one of a kind, isn’t she?”

  I turn to find Mrs. Mac.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ve known that girl since she was seven. Hardest little worker I’ve ever seen. Never complains. Always smiling.”

  “I never would’ve been able to handle things without her help.”

  “Katherine is the kind of woman who puts her whole heart and soul into whatever she does. Just look at your table over there.”

  I know what it looks like, but I turn anyway. About a dozen farms in the area have little stands with products and produce, but our table is the busiest. Kat’s sold most of the lotions and soaps she’d made, and that’s saying something as the table was overflowing this morning.

  “She’s been busting her ass to prep everything.” Pride surges in my chest.

  Mrs. Mac motions toward her. “Did you know she sent press releases to every newspaper in South Texas? She got our event in those weekend calendars in the San Antonio and Austin papers. The smarty pants advertised it as a Christmas event, so that probably doubled our attendance.” She chuckles. “We thought we were just putting up a few little fruit stands.”

  I’m not surprised Katherine went all out, but I wonder why she never mentioned all of the publicity she’s done.

  “She didn’t even tell you about that, did she?” Mrs. Mac doesn’t wait for me to answer. “No, of course not. Because that’s her way. She just does what needs to be done.”

  My attention drifts back to Kat, who is standing behind our stand, talking to customers. Her hair is braided and hangs down her shoulder. Her flannel red shirt fits snug to her slender body, hugging all of her curves in a way that makes my mouth water.

  Those bright eyes cut across to mine, and Kat shoots me one of those smiles I feel all the way down to my boots.

  Mrs. Mac clears her throat, and I remember we’re in the middle of a conversation. I return my attention to her, and she gives me a wink.

  “You’ll never do better than Katherine Duran. And even though her father is gonna give you hell, just remember that she is one hundred percent worth it.”

  My mouth drops open. I don’t know what to say. Telling her this isn’t permanent enough to meet her father feels like the biggest dickhead thing to bring up. Never mind that the idea of not being with Kat is damn near soul-crushing.

  Mrs. Mac pats my shoulder like she knows the extent of my confusion. “Son, you’re a good man. Worlds better than that fiancé of hers. Don’t let her get away.”

  What the fuck?

  Fiancé?

  She chuckles. “Ex-fiancé, I should say. Good riddance.” She waves her hand like she didn’t just drop a bomb on me. “Spoiled senator’s son. Oh, he said all of the right things, but I knew he was a cad. I’m glad Kat figured it out. Besides, you’re a much better catch.”

  And with that, she strolls off, leaving me in more turmoil than I should be feeling for a relationship that doesn’t technically exist.

  Fiancé.

  All afternoon it bothers me.

  That word clangs around in my head until I have half a mind to sit Kat down and make her tell me what happened.

  But I don’t.

  Because we don’t have that kind of relationship, I remind myself. She never asks about my exes because she understands our boundaries.

  Not that we ever drew a line in the sand and said, hey, no discussing former relationships, but we’ve both avoided the subject. I get that that’s only something you do when you’re moving forward, and as much as it bugs the fuck out of me, Kat and I are in a holding pattern as we wait for me to leave.

  But it’s not like I can give up my life in Boston for a woman I’ve known for a month. That would be crazy. Right up there with my brother eloping with a girl he’d known for, what? Two weeks? Insanity.

  Vowing to keep my big, fat mouth shut, I finish folding the last table as Kat closes up the barn.

  I stand on the porch watching the last truck roll down the driveway as she trudges up the stairs. When the Macs offered to take Izzy for the night, I jumped at the chance to veg out with Kat. She put Pizza Hut on speed dial so I’d have it handy for such an occasion. I’ve already phoned in our order.

  “You did a great job, killer.” I pull her in for a hug. Her arms wrap around me, and she sighs. “You sold out of everything, didn’t you?”

  She nods, a little smile pulling at her lips. “Before I forget, you need to call this guy Frank.” She pulls a business card out of her back pocket. “He runs some fragrance company, and he likes our stuff.”

  “Your stuff.”

  “What?” Her nose scrunches, and those black-rimmed glasses slide down her nose.

  “He liked your stuff.” When she doesn’t say anything, I laugh. “It’s okay. I know you’re not going to take credit for all of those products you sold, but between us, I’ve figured out that those were all your creations.” I let that sink in before I prod. “Right?” When she doesn’t respond, I squeeze her tighter. “You don’t diminish anything Cal and Melissa bui
lt by taking credit. But I know enough about this place to realize the only reason Melissa started making those soaps is because of you.”

  After a moment, she asks, “How do you know?”

  I let go of her and lean back against the porch railing. “This place has been in the red for years. I’ve spent the last few weeks digging through bank statements and sales receipts. I know Mel got some life insurance from her father, and maybe that helped keep this place afloat for a while, but it wasn’t until she rolled out a line of bath products that she had any hope of being financially stable. And I’m guessing that had everything to do with you.”

  “She needed help,” Kat says softly. “I brainstormed with her. Sent her some recipes. Nothing major.”

  I laugh. “Okay.” I step closer until we’re nose to nose, and I tilt her head up to kiss her cheek. “I’m calling bullshit, but okay.” Besides, I’ve seen Melissa’s notes. Pages and pages of emails from Kat with recipes and ideas. She even went out and bought supplies to test out ideas before she forwarded them to her best friend. And from what I’ve gathered, one of Kat’s emails is what sent Mel to that business class in Austin where she met my brother, who was there to learn how to run things for our parents.

  Dropping my arms to her shoulders, I turn her around to head inside, but I pause when I realize how tense she is.

  “You sore, babe?” I ask as I knead her taut muscles.

  A little moan escapes her. “Hmm. Maybe.”

  Placing a kiss on her neck, I mumble against her skin, “I have a great way to alleviate this tension.”

  Because if I’m leaving, I plan to make the most of every moment possible with her.

  Starting now.

  44

  Katherine

  Brady strokes over my naked body with confident hands, kneading each and every one of my sore muscles.

  “Holy smokes, you give great massages.”