December (The Oliver Brothers Book 1)

Home > Other > December (The Oliver Brothers Book 1) > Page 5
December (The Oliver Brothers Book 1) Page 5

by Watson, Q. M.


  I make another stop to kiss my mom good-bye on the cheek. She’s still in the living room on the couch, eating chips and sipping from her fruity wine cooler. She’s watching what seems to be a Keeping Up with the Kardashians marathon.

  “Bye, Mom. I’m out like yesterday’s trash. I’m with Danny. Call me if you need anything.”

  She looks up at me and smiles. “Look at my baby. You look adorable. I’m getting flashbacks from when I took you to school. You all grow up way too fast. I’m happy you’re spending time with Danny. He’s a good man, December. And he loves you like crazy.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I say dismissively. “See you tomorrow.”

  July gives me a wave from the passenger seat of Jarvis’s forest green Range Rover when I walk past. I wave back to my sister and then give Jarvis the finger when he looks over at me. Jarvis winks and smiles.

  I open the door to Danny’s Yukon and climb in. He’s smiling ear-to-ear when I glance at him. “What?”

  “You look cute.”

  “I didn’t wear this to be cute. I wore this to be undesirable.”

  “You didn’t accomplish your mission.”

  “Sucks for me, then.”

  “How I love you, December.”

  My heart lurches frantically. The only reply I have is to press my lips together and settle back in the seat.

  Dear God, this is going to be a long night.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE PRESENT

  Chloe and I watch Danny from his couch as he pays the pizza man. She excitedly wags her little nub of a tail when he brings the delicious-smelling greasy boxes over.

  He snaps his fingers and points to the floor. “Down, Chloe.”

  She obediently jumps from my lap to sit at the spot where he points, drool gradually dripping from the corners of her panting mouth. Chloe looks to me, silently asking me to save her. Those big chocolate-colored doe eyes are pleading with me, and just like that, I’m on her side. “Don’t be mean. Let her back up here.”

  “No.” His voice is firm. He sets the boxes on the low oak coffee table. “You’ve spoiled her. With any luck, I’ll have her well trained again. Have you picked a movie yet?”

  “Well, it’s Sunday. Thank God I set you up with HBO, because the best show ever is about to come on.”

  “Which is?” he prompts, piling a paper plate with hot wings and slices of meaty pizza.

  “Game of Thrones.”

  He lifts a brow. “What’s that?”

  “The best show ever,” I reply, my tone being obvious.

  “Forgive me, but you’ll have to explain it to me. I’ve been out of touch with civilian life. Is it a drama? A romance? A comedy?”

  It’s only when he makes comments like this do I realize he’s been gone for four years. “It’s an American fantasy show, unless you think beheading is funny and incest is romantic.”

  He makes a face, and I burst into laughter. “It must be worth watching if you like it.”

  I playfully jab him in his arm with my elbow, hiding my wince from the impact of hitting his muscles. “Aw, you trust my judgment.”

  “When it comes to television shows,” he clarifies.

  “Hey, at least that’s a start. Wait. Is that for me? Because that’s way too much food.”

  “We’re sharing.”

  “I can feed myself this round. Hot wings are sticky.”

  He gestures toward the food. “Dig in, little lady. I’m going to go grab us some beers and paper towels.”

  “Hurry,” I yell over my shoulder, then I bite into a spicy chicken wing. “It’s about to come on.” Attempting to be sneaky, I open the other box and toss Chloe two barbecue wings while Danny has his head deep in the fridge.

  Chloe lies down and crunches loudly, her gaze as alert as mine. We’re both on the lookout for Danny. “Come on,” I mumble to her under my breath.

  “Press pause. We do have that feature on the remote.”

  “Okay.”

  After I pause the show at the opening credits, I glower at Chloe as she takes her sweet time chomping the second wing. She’s savoring it, knowing it might be her last bone of the night. She’s smearing barbecue sauce everywhere between her two front paws. I’m glad Danny has hardwood floors and not carpet.

  Danny’s jean-clad legs come into view, blocking Chloe from my sight. “December,” he scolds.

  I jump, startled.

  “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “Sorry?” I smile up at him.

  He shakes his head, fighting a grin. Danny pops the caps off the beers on the edge of the low coffee table and hands me one. He slides next to me on the couch, and I press play.

  We chow down on pizza and wings, totally absorbed in the show. I periodically glance at Danny to make sure he’s into it. Game of Thrones completely wins him over. He hasn’t taken his eyes off the screen. But on the other hand, Chloe’s eyes burn holes into my head because I have to ignore her, no matter how much it hurts me.

  I turn to him once it goes off. “You like?”

  He nods, taking a long drag of his beer. “Very much.”

  “So I have good taste?”

  He stares at me, his eyes twinkling in the darkness and the glow of the TV. “You have the best taste.”

  “Well, there you go,” I say, lifting my feet onto the couch, pretending his comment doesn’t jumpstart my heart. My eyes close on their own volition. “Man, I’m stuffed.” Having Danny home feels good, but it’s even better to know I can have him as a friend. Yeah. Being the best of friends is the perfect relationship for us—no expectations and no hurt feelings.

  Just perfect.

  He physically moves me into his lap.

  I freeze when he nuzzles me. “Danny—”

  “Quiet, December. I want to hold you for a while.”

  Friends do not hold each other like the way he’s holding me. He embraces me with both arms, tucking my head under his chin with my cheek pressed against his chest. No. This can’t happen. My heart begins to pound from an approaching panic attack.

  I swallow thickly. “Danny—”

  “Shh,” he whispers into my hair, slightly rocking me.

  Nervous laughter bubbles out of me. “This is ridiculous.”

  He tightens his arms. “Jesus. You can’t let yourself go for a second, can you?”

  My pulse soars for a completely different reason. “What?”

  “You’re always wrapped up so tightly in that hardened shell of yours, not letting anyone get too close to see the cracks. You have to get tired of protecting yourself sometimes, December. I know it gets exhausting. You can’t live your life having people at arm’s length. You’re going to have to drop that heavy shell and let me warm you one of these days.”

  My fingers involuntarily fist in his shirt. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His lips softly press into my neck. “I don’t think I’m the problem.”

  He holds me to him when I try to push away. “I’m sleepy.”

  “Let me hold you for a little while, December. Please.”

  My tense body goes lax as one of his warm palms rubs the stiffness from my back. Wanting to comfort myself, I move my cheek back and forth over the worn cotton material of his shirt. “You can’t come back and do this to me, Danny. It’s not fair.”

  “Do what?”

  “Sweep me off my feet. You can’t come back and be my hero. And you definitely can’t come back and act like you know everything that’s going on inside my head. You don’t know me as well as you think you do. That’s not how life works. I’m not the same December.”

  “December,” he says softly, kissing the top of my head. He gives me a squeeze. “Whether you realize this or not, you’ll always be my December. You don’t think I know you have holes in your heart the size of moon craters? All I want to do is fill you up with so much life that you’ll never feel them again, but you fight me every step of the way. You make loving you so fucking hard. I’
m going to say this, so maybe it’ll soak in. Listen closely, December. There’s something you should know. I don’t care how difficult you make it. I’m not going to give up. Ever.”

  Gripping his shirt, I bury my wet face into his chest. I’m thankful that it’s mostly dark. Otherwise, my pride couldn’t take him knowing that he got to me and made me cry. We don’t say anything. Shutting my eyes, I let Danny hold me. The steady heartbeat thumping against my cheek lulls me into sleep.

  He carries me to bed sometime later, gently tossing the sheets over me. I’m groggy, but I manage to open my eyes a little. Danny sits on the side of the bed with his back to me. He’s bathed in the pale silver light of the moon, and though I can’t see his face, he has never looked more tortured. He opens his nightstand drawer and pulls out two pill bottles, opening them and emptying some in his palm. He throws them in his mouth and swallows them dry.

  “What are you taking?”

  He stiffens, but his surprise at me catching him doesn’t last long. “Go back to sleep, December.”

  “What are those pills for, Danny?”

  “Anxiety. It’s hard for me to sleep at night.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a lot of shit in my head, and I get restless at night.”

  Wanting to know more, I press him, hoping he’ll open up a little on this subject. “What kind of shit do you have in your head?”

  “I can’t. Not now, December.”

  Deciding not to push him any further tonight, I ask a different kind of question. “Are you allowed to take those while you’ve been drinking?”

  “I had a beer.”

  “Alcohol is alcohol, Danny.”

  He looks at me over his shoulder, smiling widely.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “You care about me.”

  “Well, yeah.” My sarcastic tone causes him to frown. “I don’t want you to die from mixing prescriptions with alcohol. People get lazy and slip. They drink during the day and forget all about not mixing the medications when it’s time to take them. They die from that, Danny.”

  “I won’t do it again.”

  “Promise me, Danny.”

  His expression turns serious. “I promise.”

  Visually sighing, I lean back into the pillows. It doesn’t take Danny long to slide in next to me. He works his arms underneath mine, pulling me in close to his chest to cuddle me. I stare at his throat, frowning.

  “You worry me, you stupid man.”

  “No need. I’m okay.”

  “I’m not buying it,” I whisper, pressing my face into his chest and breathing in his incredible spicy musk scent. The need to let him know what’s been weighing me down like a pile of bricks on my back since he left becomes overwhelming. I begin to blurt out the things I’ve never told him but always wanted to. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, Danny. You mean a lot to me. Just because you came back from fighting for our freedom out there doesn’t mean you can get reckless when you’re home.” I bury my face more into his shirt to conceal my tears. “I need you here, Danny. So don’t be so fucking stupid. Don’t get careless.”

  One of his hands sinks into my hair. He grabs a handful and gently tugs, pulling my head back so he can look into my watery eyes. His gaze is as glossy as polished river stones. “December,” he says softly, touching my wet cheek.

  And this is when I lose it.

  I erupt into uncontrollable sobs with the ugly hiccupping and everything. Ugly crying is the worst. I haven’t cried like this since I was little and Gray was being a dick. He told me there was no Santa. My mind was blown at age six.

  He holds me close. We hold each other close. The tears stop, and my eyelids get heavy. I get sleepy, and sleep is inevitable being wrapped up and cocooned in Danny’s arms.

  The vibrating of my phone wakes me. Carefully untangling myself from Danny, I roll over to grab my cell off the wooden nightstand on my side of the bed. (It’s funny to think I have a “my side of the bed.”) I have a missed call from Gray and three missed calls and a voicemail from Josh. Gray probably wants to hang out later today, and Josh was letting me know he’s back in town.

  The timing for Josh being back in town couldn’t be any worse. I’ve been avoiding him since I drunkenly made out with him over two weeks ago. Normally, I wouldn’t hide from a great-looking guy that I’m into, but this guy happens to be Danny’s ex-wife Piper’s younger brother. Josh and I have known each other since we were kids. We were around each other a lot, and then we grew apart. He left for two years because of his job.

  Our relationship really began to flourish once again about four years ago. It was around the time Danny left, and it started out innocently enough. Josh was in town a lot, helping run the bakery while his sister was mainly absent. I stopped by to get some coffee—they have the best coffee—and Josh was at the register. He smiled at me and mentioned he liked my penguin beanie. I asked him if he saw the penguin special that was on Discovery Channel, and he told me he did and that he worked as a photographer for them once. From there, we had a half hour conversation about penguins.

  Needless to say, I made it a priority to stop at Sprinkles and Beyond at least once a day. Josh and I became close again. We were like best friends until I got sloppy drunk two weeks ago and kissed him.

  No, I didn’t kiss him. I devoured his face, knowing he wanted to take things to the next level. That kiss made things more complicated. I don’t do complicated well.

  So fast-forward to him leaving for South Africa for work and me freaking out and ignoring his calls to now. I’m afraid I messed up our friendship, something that was perfect and something that was easy. However, I should gather my courage and make things right between us.

  I just don’t know how long it will take for my courage to build up.

  Slipping out of the bed, I head for the bathroom. It’s four in the morning and I have an hour before I need to be up, but since I’m awake, I may as well shower and get ready for work.

  The water is warm and steamy when I dunk my head under the spray. It may be weird, but I use Danny’s Old Spice gel to soap up. The fragrance is strong and powerful. The scent lingers on my skin for hours. I get to smell like him all day.

  “Make some room.”

  I yelp and turn my back to him and hide in the water, covering my chest as Danny squeezes in behind me. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “It should be obvious,” he says, snatching the bottle of gel from me. He dumps some into his palms and begins to spread it across his broad chest and muscled body, making a nice, soapy lather. Hypnotized, I watch the suds slide down his incredibly slick abs, down to his raging hard-on.

  With my heart beating in my throat, I quickly avert my gaze, but it’s useless. I glance back down between his thighs and blink once and then twice more. Just to think all that might be inside of me one day makes me wince with terror and joy.

  I don’t know how long I stare, but it’s enough to cause Danny to laugh.

  He’s grinning when he pokes at my hot cheek with his finger. “How cute. You’re blushing like a virgin.”

  “Shut up. I can’t help it when you have the Eiffel Tower bobbing between your legs.”

  He laughs hard enough he doubles over, and then he leans in to rinse off. His penis touches the back of my thigh, and I squeal like a baby pig.

  I press myself desperately into the pale-blue tile of the shower wall. “Would you put that thing away, Danny?”

  “Sorry, but I’m not the king of tucking. Can’t help that I’m feeling alive, and I’m more than happy to see you.” He gives me a cheeky grin. “Well, it might help if you touch it, December.”

  “What? You’re such a pervert.” My tone is playful, and so is his.

  “Don’t be like that. Just touch it a little.”

  His slick erection touches my thigh again, and he deliberately rubs up against me. I make a whiny noise in the back of my throat. “Danny.” I frown inwardly at how husky my voice is becom
ing.

  “See? You’re starting to like it. I’ll have you screaming for a different reason in no time.”

  Why is he extremely horny?

  Oh, because he’s a man who has been away for four years, and when he gets home, it’s obvious he should have the right to finally get some relief, to finally get laid. If he isn’t getting any relief from me . . . then maybe he’ll start looking elsewhere.

  The little insecure girl in me starts to pace and panic while her nemesis, Bitchy-Bitch, snaps her fingers and rolls her eyes. She tells me to handle it.

  I suddenly grip his erection and give it a squeeze. The playfulness sheds from his face, and his brown eyes begin to blaze like heated coals. “I was only joking, December. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “I do want this,” I whisper, keeping eye contact as I sink down to my knees.

  Okay.

  So this might be a big leap from an old handy, but hey.

  It’s time.

  My gaze slides down to his penis and the little girl in me screeches, but Bitchy-Bitch puts her in a headlock and covers her mouth. She tells me to do it.

  And I do it.

  I put my mouth on him, and everything comes naturally. God knows I’ve watched enough of Cat House to know how to give a proper blow job. Those ladies are talented for more reasons than their 7-Eleven leg service. Good tips: heavy on the suck and light on the teeth. Added bonus if you give his balls the same love and attention.

  I watch as the muscles in his stomach and thighs tremble.

  “Aw, fuck.”

  I pull back just in time. Let’s just say Super Soaker water guns have nothing on Danny. Laughing at my own joke, I push to my feet and wipe my mouth. He stares at me with his chest heaving.

  He’s speechless.

  Smirking at my achievement, I poke his flushed cheek. “Aw, how cute. You’re blushing like a virgin.” I turn toward the spray and begin to wash my hair. Shower time with Danny could get fun.

 

‹ Prev