Take the Storm: Episode 6

by Rebecca Zanetti

  She smiled and wiped rain off her face. “I know.” In her short shorts and tank top, she was his very idea of perfection. “Do you still have the condoms?”

  His groin tightened. He swallowed and stepped back, his hands naturally hanging in front of him. “Um, no. My sister took them.”

  Mallory blushed a pretty pink and reached into her back pocket. “I brought two.”

  His brain fuzzed. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

  “Is that enough?” she asked, her gaze on his bare chest.

  He had to take several deep breaths before he could talk. “I thought we decided to wait.” The bed was right there. The bed was right there. Man, she was next to his bed. His body flushed and felt like it was on fire. “Waiting. Remember?”

  She shuffled her bare feet on the thick carpet. “I know, but I don’t think we should wait. I mean, we’re together, right? I want to be all the way together.”

  All the way.

  He shook his head like a dog with a face full of water. “Mallory—”

  She moved in and flattened her hands over his abs. “Do you love me?”

  Her touch nearly sent him over. “Yes.” He did. Everything he had inside him loved her, and he’d almost lost her. If they slept together, could he keep her? “You know I do.”

  “I love you, too.” She slid her hand up and over his chest. Then she stood on her toes and pressed her mouth against his.

  He kissed her, using his tongue, shoving all doubts away. They loved each other. She tugged him back and fell onto the bed. He landed on her, and she giggled.

  “Shh.” He levered up on his elbows so he wouldn’t squish her. “We don’t want to wake up my sister.”

  Mallory nodded.

  Okay. This was happening. He grabbed the bottom of her tank top and slowly lifted it over her head, leaning back to maneuver. Her bra was white with pretty flowers. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes wide, she reached down and pushed his briefs down his legs, using her feet when they got to his knees.

  Uncertainty stopped him. He was naked with a girl. Okay. He could do this.

  She shrugged out of the bra, doing some weird shimmy.

  Her breasts sprang free—small and perfect. His body flushed again, and he tried to control himself.

  Her hand kind of shook, but she put the condom to her mouth and bit into the foil, spitting it out. “Um, move over a little,” she said.

  He moved to the side, and she reached down to roll the condom over him. Her hand was soft, and her grip a little too tight. His breath caught, and fire exploded in his stomach. He had to slow her down. “Wait—”

  She squeezed the condom into place, and he detonated with a low groan. Shit. His entire body jerked with the force of his orgasm. His eyes closed, and his breath panted out. “God, I’m so sorry.”

  She gave a small giggle. “Luis.”

  A pit settled in his stomach. Even though he didn’t want to, he opened his eyes to look down at her.

  She grinned. “Well, I’m still a virgin. But are you?”

  He snorted. Man, he loved her. He wanted to die of embarrassment, and she made it all okay with one little joke.

  A banging sounded from outside his bedroom. He jumped off Mallory and grabbed the shorts to pull on, even over the condom.

  Mallory slid from the bed and yanked on his sweatshirt, her hair going everywhere. “What is that?”

  His lungs seized, and he opened the bedroom door.

  The banging was getting louder and coming from the front door. “Mallory Alvarez? Get the hell out here.”

  She gasped, both hands going to her mouth. “Oh my God. It’s my brother.”

  Luis swayed. “Marcus? How does he know you’re here?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Slipping on her sandals, she moved toward the window.

  “Luis?” Marisol called from the hallway, walking closer while tying her white robe.

  The pounding got louder.

  Marisol caught sight of Mallory. “Mal?” Marisol’s eyes widened. “Luis?”

  The front door rattled.

  “Damn it.” Marisol turned on her heel and marched through the house.

  Luis leaped into action and reached her side. “Let me answer it.”

  “No.” Marisol pushed him to the side and opened the door. “Stop pounding.”

  Marcus Alvarez stood in the doorway, fury across his broad face, his hands clenched. “Mallory?” he yelled.

  “Geez.” Mallory moved out from behind Luis. “Calm down, would you?”

  Marcus’s dark gaze swept the too-big sweatshirt covering her. “Get out to the car.”

  “No.” She lifted her head.

  Marisol looked from brother to sister, shock in her eyes. She cleared her throat. “Marcus? Would you like to come in and sit down?”

  “No.” Marcus stepped toward his sister. “I’m about to kill somebody, Mallory. Get in the car.”

  Luis frowned. “Stop scaring her.”

  Marcus swung his gaze to Luis, and Luis held his ground, even though his gut was churning. Hadn’t Marcus spent time in jail?

  Marisol tightened her belt, her hands trembling while her voice remained strong. “Everyone calm down. Mallory, what are you doing here?”

  “Leave her alone,” Luis said before Mallory could answer. “We were just talking and lost track of time.”

  “Bullshit.” Marcus shook his head. “Mom said you snuck out, Mal. I knew just where to find you.” His anger sucked the oxygen out of the small living room. “Isn’t it enough that you have one knocked-up person in your family already?” he spat out.

  Red hazed over Luis’s vision, and he moved forward.

  “Stop.” His sister halted him with one hand on his arm. “Mallory, you should go home with your brother, and we can speak rationally about this in the light of day.”

  Mallory pushed by Luis, and the empty condom wrapper fell to the ground. The entire room roared into silence, and everybody stared at the package resting on the shag carpet. It must’ve gotten caught on her shorts.

  Marcus bellowed and leaped for Luis, tackling him into the couch. Luis punched out, and Marcus’s head jerked back.

  “Stop it!” Marisol yelled, grabbing Marcus’s hair and yanking him away from Luis.

  Marcus didn’t fight Marisol and instead let her push him out of the way.

  Luis slowly stood, his head ringing, his stomach lurching.

  Marisol pushed Marcus toward the door and held out a hand to keep Luis in place. “We’re about to become candidates for Jerry Springer, gang.” Her voice trembled this time, and in her ratty robe wearing no makeup, she looked like a teenager. “Everyone please stop it.”

  Mallory moved toward her brother. “Nothing happened, Marcus.” She faced Marisol, tears in her eyes. “I promise. Nothing happened.”

  Luis wanted to reach for her, but Marcus’s glare stopped him short.

  “Let’s go,” Marcus said, gesturing his sister toward the storm. “We’ll get the car tomorrow.”

  Mallory left without looking back, and the door shut with a sharp snap.

  Luis turned toward his sister.

  “What in the world?” she asked, her lip trembling.

  He shook his head. “Nothing happened. I promise.” Yet a whole lot had happened. Had he just lost Mallory again?

  CHAPTER 9

  Humidity choked the morning in a way it hadn’t in over a year, adding a heaviness to the very air around them. Patrick leaned over and hammered in the post for the beer garden. They worked in the corner of the large park, nearest the pub, and would bring kegs over the morning of the Founders’ Day picnic. A small breeze blew through town, and he hoped the weather improved by the day of the event. “When will Tate and Tucker be bringing the hay bales for people to sit on?” His cousins owned a ranch, and they had plenty of hay every year.

  Logan shrugged and shoved a large yard umbrella into one of the
heavy metal stands to begin forming a shady area. “A day or so before it starts, I think.”

  Patrick nodded . The sounds of hammering and electric screwdrivers took over the day as the booths went up around the grassy area. The gazebo was ready to go for performers and speech givers, except for the final decorations that would be put up the morning of the events. “Where’s Ginny?”

  “She dropped by to filch a couple of cupcakes from Marisol.”

  Just the woman’s name slammed Patrick in the gut, and he pushed all thoughts of Marisol out of his head. “How are things with you two, anyway?”

  Logan reached for another umbrella; this one had a series of sparkling beer bottles across the top. “We’re good.” He pushed the post into place, blue eyes somber. “We both have family, but we’re alone when we’re not together.” His shrug spoke volumes and didn’t fool his older brother. “It sounds weird, I know.”

  Yeah, it did sound weird, but Patrick wanted his brother to find peace. “What about the baby?”

  Logan scratched his chin. “The baby needs a father.”

  Patrick jolted. The idea of his younger brother as a father swept concern through him. It was so real. “Are you ready for that? I mean, to take care of Ginny and her baby?”

  “I think so.” Logan rolled his neck, tension visible in the muscle tightening in his jaw. “I mean, we have a few months to figure that out, you know?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think you just date a pregnant woman. Aren’t you pretty much all out or all in?” Patrick wiped grime off his forehead.

  “Then I’m all in.” Logan kicked the umbrella stand farther into the corner. “She needs somebody, and I need her. For some reason, when we’re together, all the stress goes away. It’s like she understands everything I’ve gone through, and she brings peace.”

  Man, the kid had it bad. But maybe, after everything Logan had experienced in the military, he wasn’t a kid any longer. “This is a lot,” Patrick said.

  “I know, but I can protect her. That girl needs cover, and I’m able to provide that. In fact, the idea of keeping her safe eases something in my chest. She’s a good person, a fragile one, and she needs me.”

  “I get that.” Hell, Patrick totally understood. “Are you sure she’s told you the truth about everything? There are rumors she and Jacob weren’t really together that long.”

  “Fuck rumors.” Logan lifted the umbrella, stand and all, to plant in the opposite corner. “She’s an honest person, and she’d never lie to me. Our relationship is built on trust and healing.”

  Patrick nodded. “That’s a good foundation. All right, I’ll stop questioning you. Whatever you do, I’ve got your back.”

  Logan grinned. “Ditto.”

  Ginny walked around the corner, cupcake box in hand. She had on cute shorts, a flowy blouse, and light sandals.

  Logan immediately hustled over and took the box. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” she said, eyeing Patrick. “Um, hi.”

  He gave her a gentle smile. The girl probably still wondered what Logan’s family thought about him dating a pregnant woman, so he needed to ease her concerns. “Thanks for the cupcakes.”

  Relief filled her eyes, and her body seemed to relax. “No problem. My sister didn’t mind giving them to us.” Ginny chuckled. “I mean, after she grilled me about health and all that stuff.”

  “Sounds like she cares,” Logan said softly.

  Ginny nodded. “Yeah, she cares a lot.”

  Patrick reached for a white cupcake with blue frosting, wanting to ask if Marisol had mentioned him. But considering he wasn’t in junior high waiting to be passed a note in study hall, he bit back any questions. He’d have Marisol’s answer soon enough.

  Dillon headed their way from over by the gazebo, his gun at his belt along with his badge.

  Ginny reached for Logan’s hand. “I’m thirsty. Want to go get sodas?”

  Logan glanced around at the work to be done.

  Patrick nodded toward the opposite street. “Dillon can help me. You guys go relax and have a drink. There will be plenty to do later.”

  Ginny shot him a grateful smile and all but dragged Logan toward the street and restaurants.

  Dillon arrived, his gaze on the departing duo. “I wanted to talk to Logan about the hay bales.”

  “Tucker and Tate are all set to bring them during the final setup.” Patrick reached for a couple of nails.

  “Ginny takes off whenever she sees me,” Dillon mused, rubbing his whiskered chin.

  Patrick grinned. “You’re the sheriff. She’s a young, knocked-up, lonely kid who’s dating your youngest brother. Who isn’t the father of her baby. Of course she takes off.”

  Dillon’s eyebrows drew down. “Hmm. Good point.”

  “If they’re going to keep dating, you need to somehow make her feel comfortable with you.” Patrick hammered a side rail to a post, creating a pseudo-fence.

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  Patrick paused and tossed the hammer to catch in his other hand. “I don’t know. I guess when the baby is born, buy him a nice present?” He shouldn’t be giving anybody advice.

  Feminine chatter echoed just before Dakota and Mallory Alvarez rounded the corner of the courthouse and headed their way, stacks of flyers in their hands. Mallory wore faded shorts and a pink T-shirt, while Dakota had on a peach-colored skirt with a fluffy blouse.

  The girls reached the beer garden, and Dakota handed him a couple of flyers. “We’re supposed to put flyers all over town announcing that the senator will give a speech during Founders’ Day.”

  Mallory rolled her eyes. “Everybody already knows that but we have to deliver all of these.”

  Patrick took a few flyers. “I’ll stick these to a couple of posts and then take a few to the pub later today. Don’t worry about going by there.”

  Dakota smiled and tugged down the rather modest skirt. “Thanks.”

  “You look nice today, Dakota,” Patrick said. The young woman was usually revealing either leg or cleavage, and it was nice to see her respecting herself a little. “Peach is your color.”

  Dillon cut him a sharp look over the girls’ heads.

  Dakota blushed, and her eyes brightened. “Thanks. I borrowed the skirt from my mom.” She cleared her throat and partially turned to put Dillon in her view. “I’m sorry about the other night in the pub. It’s just that I keep thinking my dad will show up at some time.”

  Dillon’s jaw tightened. “It’s no problem.”

  Right. Considering Dillon had run Dakota’s dad out of town for good. Well, probably for good. Guys like Hector Alvarez—wife beating, booze swilling assholes—always seemed to turn up again. Patrick folded the flyers and stuck them in his back pocket. “If he shows up at the pub at any time, we’ll make sure to call you. Okay?”

  She smiled again, her gaze on him. “Thanks, Patrick. You’re the best.”

  Mallory tugged on her older sister’s arm. “Let’s go and get rid of these things.” She turned on a ragged sandal, and her sister followed her, only looking back once before continuing on.

  “You’re the best,” Dillon mimicked, tucking his thumbs in his belt loops once the girls were out of earshot.

  “Shut up,” Patrick retorted, hammering a flyer to the nearest post with one whack. “I feel sorry for her.”

  “She’s trouble, and you should stay as far away from her as possible. God, Patrick. You can’t save everybody.”

  The hair at the back of Patrick’s nape prickled. “Really? Considering you’re the one who got rid of her father in order to save her mother, I’d say you should listen to your own advice.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?” Patrick waited a beat. “Oh. It’s different because you like Joanne Alvarez. As in you want to get her naked.”

  Dillon sighed, and his smart-ass expression dropped. “Okay, maybe I do like her a little, but I’m thinking it’ll never happen. On the off chance it does ha
ppen, it’d be nice if my brother wasn’t dating her daughter, you know? Talk about a mess.”

  “I have no interest in Dakota Alvarez other than to be nice to her, which not enough people in this world have tried to be with that girl.” Patrick grinned. “She could be your stepdaughter if you and Joanne ever give it a shot.” The horror crossing Dillon’s face made Patrick laugh out loud. “She’s not that bad.”

  “If you say so.” Dillon half-turned to see the gazebo, and Patrick followed his gaze. Soon, Senator Rush would be up there, reminding all the citizens why they should vote for him again.

  Patrick shook his head.

  Running for office would definitely suck, and Patrick couldn’t imagine anybody wanting power that much. He was a guy who enjoyed privacy and being able to get the morning paper just wearing his boxers. “You off duty?”

  “No. In fact, I should make the rounds.” Dillon turned to go. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Sure thing.” Patrick reached for another slat to make the fence. He worked by himself for almost an hour, whistling a country tune, his mind on Dillon and his pursuit of Joanne Alvarez. Well, not his pursuit. More like his protecting her from afar.

  “Patrick?” A soft voice jerked him from his musings.

  He turned from nailing the last of the fence slats into place, his heart thundering. “Marisol. Hi.”

  Her dark hair curled around her shoulders, and her even darker eyes seemed somber. She was everything feminine and pretty in the world, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her right then and there. But he remained in place.

  “Hi.” She smoothed down a flowing skirt with her hands, her gaze darting around before landing back on him. Bluish circles marred the soft skin under her eyes, which looked a little bloodshot.

  He sighed. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “Not really.” She wrung her hands together. “Mostly because Marcus Alvarez showed up, pounded on my door, and insisted his sister get her butt out of my house. At three in the morning.”

  Patrick’s eyebrows rose. “Uh, Dakota or Mallory?”