Everybody Falls

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  He kissed her nose, then moved away. He sent her an smile over his shoulder before rounding the corner to go down the hall and back to the men in the front room.

  "Dick!" I exclaimed, however my voice was barely a whisper. I had a huge smile on my face as I went back out onto the porch.

  *.*.*.*.*

  Jax and the boys were still knee deep in the planning stages when he saw a small, two-door sedan making its way down the long driveway. As the car got closer, he saw the blonde with the crazy hair who used to sometimes sit with Lacey on her porch as he ran passed each morning behind the wheel.

  "Showtime," he mumbled, realizing that Lacey's girl was here. Luckily, she was driving back towards the garage, which meant Lace had meant for her to go in the back door to save them all from a squealing pissy-fit in the front room.

  "I think we're about to be invaded," Sarge said from his place on one of the chairs, his eyes following the car as it moved. "Looks like Ricki Larson is about to descend on us."

  "Who?" Turner asked, lifting his head from the notepad he was writing on.

  "Ricki. She's Lacey's best friend who is bringing stuff out so my girl can stay a while," Jax said on a soft voice. "She's a 'squealer'."

  Sarge nodded to confirm. Turner's eyebrows were at his hairline in question.

  "Just get your earplugs ready, is all we're saying," Boots mumbled, quietly strumming the acoustic guitar which had gone from hand to hand as the men had brainstormed.

  "Should we move?" Turner asked, his eyes roving around the loose circle of men. "You know, like, to another room or something?"

  "Nah, man. She's actually cool. Just excitable," Sarge assured him.

  "Let's get this over with," Jax sighed with an eye down the hall. "Maybe if she sees both of us at the same time, she'll hold it together."

  "Or fucking faint," Boots added.

  They put the notepads and the guitar aside before standing, making their way to the kitchen.

  Jax could hear his girl's voice greeting her friend before introducing her to Grams, who seemed to welcome the girl warmly to their family home.

  "I want you to meet a couple of people," Lacey was saying as she handed his grandmother off to him, stepping back so Ricki could go first.

  "Oh, hey, Boots. Sarge! Nice to see you, sweetie," Ricki said calmly as she gave the fellows a one-handed hug, teetering on one leg. She turned and saw Turner Brown before her eyes slid to Jax. Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped then her eyes rolled back in her head. There was maybe a two second pause before her knees unlocked and her body went completely boneless.

  Luckily, Turner stepped in, catching the girl before she hit the linoleum.

  "Shit, we should've placed bets," Boots mumbled.

  "Too much for her, huh?" Grams said as Jax helped walk her to the table.

  "Yeah, fame is just too much for some folks," Sarge explained, taking a seat next to the older woman.

  "You okay with her, man?" Jax asked his old band mate.

  "Got it, Dude," Turner replied.

  "Ice tea anyone?" Lacey asked in a neutral voice, acting as if her best friend passing right the fuck out was a normal, everyday occurrence.

  "Sounds good," Jax heard a couple of voices say as he made his way to grab glasses as Lacey went to the old fridge.

  "We've got plenty of the canned stuff for tuna melts if anybody's hungry," Grams offered.

  "I'll take care of it, Edie," Lacey said, twisting the ice cube trays to get them to release.

  Jax ran his hands through his hair, stunned.

  Everyone in the room was fucking acting as if everything was just hunky-dory, a shit-normal, everyday happening. He had a sick grandmother, a goddess that was the love of his life, a passed out squealer and four rockers--in different stages of age and decline--shoved into a farmhouse kitchen in Northern California on a late Sunday morning in March.

  And everyone was acting like this was nothing fucking special.

  He rubbed the back of his neck.

  But.

  Maybe that's how it's supposed to be. This taking-everything-as-normal, no matter what kind shit life slings at you.

  "You okay, Hot Stuff?" Grams called from her place at the table.

  There was a chorus of 'yeah, I'm okays' and 'sures' before the old woman rolled her eyes. "I was talking to Jax. Gosh, there are lot of egos in the room."

  "Good, I think. Weird, but good," Jax answered on a hopeful note as he helped Lace drop the cubes in the glasses and watched her fill them with tea from the pitcher. His girl must have heard something in his voice, though, because she immediately stopped messing with the glasses.

  Lacey stepped around his legs and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body to his as she hugged him tightly. "It's all good, Jack. It's just you, me, Grams and our friends making magic. Okay?"

  He stroked her back as his eyes scanned the room.

  "Yeah, Baby," he breathed before dropping his head to her hair.

  "You okay, Pretty Girl?" he heard Turner's deep voice ask. Jax glanced at his old friend. He saw the man, that no-holds-barred, hard ass rocker's face as it softened when he looked at the quirky blonde in his arms.

  "You're Turner Brown," he heard Ricki's voice whisper into the quiet of the kitchen.

  "Yeah, darlin', I am," Turner said, before going all the way down to the floor, pulling the much smaller girl onto his lap. "You okay?"

  "Is this a dream?" she continued on just a breath and Jax saw her eyes wander over Turner's face.

  "I so fucking hope not," Turner replied, equally as quiet. "Because I'll be pissed as hell when I wake up."

  Jax lifted his head from Lacey's hair as he got caught on her eyes. Both of them raised their eyebrows at Turner's words. He saw Lacey turn her head to Grams and watched as his two girls shared a soft smile.

  "Ice tea?" Grams asked as a reminder into the quiet of the room.

  "Yeah. Right, sorry," Lacey said, going back to the glasses, wiping underneath her eyes, mildly sniffing.

  Jax moved to Lacey so he could rub her back. "Baby?"

  "We just witnessed a love connection, honey," she whispered thickly, tilting her head to his and kissing him gentle and quick. "She'll be the one saying she fell at his feet when he met her."

  He couldn't help the laughter which shot straight up from that pure Lacey place inside him.

  Lacey began passing out glasses as he tried to get a grip, hearing her explain to Grams, Sarge and Boots. When they all looked puzzled, Jax jumped in to give his version. Soon the kitchen was filled with laughs, chuckles and giggles.

  All except for the two people still entwined on the floor who just looked confused at the interruption of their silent communion.

  "Dude? There are chairs, you know," Sarge offered with a chin lift to the couple on the floor as he used a foot to push one out from the table in invitation.

  "Ready to sit, Ricki?" Turner asked tenderly as he gently lifted the girl from the floor.

  "You know my name?" Answering with a question, her eyes never leaving his.

  "Yeah, darlin', I do," he rumbled, seating her gently in a chair and taking the one next to her. "I can't flippin' wait to know more."

  People tried, and failed, to still their sniggers at the sappy talk of the two new lovebirds.

  "What?" Ricki asked sharply. Jax saw her eyes become aware of her surroundings.

  "There she is," Sarge announced. "Welcome back, Rick."

  "Thanks, I think," she said, straightening up in her chair before glancing around, much like she was coming out of a dream.

  Jax stepped up to the table.

  "Hi, Ricki. I'm Jax. You've been looking for me?" he said, before pulling Lace up to his side, looping his arm around her waist.

  "I, uh. I, ah," Ricki started, her eyes moving between Lacey, Jax as well as the arm he had firmly placed around her best friend. Her eyes moved to Turner and everyone saw the softening of her face as she reached out a hand to him.

  "Yeah, I was,"
she admitted to Jax yet her eyes remained on Turner. "But, I don't think you're quite was I was looking for."

  There was another set of guffaws interspersed with giggles at her words.

  "What?" she asked as her eyes made its way around the people sitting at the table.

  "Nothing, Ricki," Jax heard Turner say as the red-head leaned toward her and ran a hand along her back.

  "It's nice to meet you," Jax said. He just wanted to move things along, to get things back to normal, or the version of normal he'd established.

  "Yeah, uhm, you, too," Ricki mumbled but her eyes never left Turner's.

  Turner couldn't seem to take his eyes off her either.

  Chapter 21

  I had my face planted in the pillow, trying to control the noises that were being ripped from my throat as Jax was pounding me from behind. My hips were high with my knees spread, firm into the mattress as he worked it, worked me.

  Deliciously hot work. Sexy work.

  His fingers were busy, too. The one that had been wrapped around my waist had moved down and he was stroking me, circling that sweet spot in the same rhythm as his hips. He had his other hand on my breast that he alternated fondling with tweaking twists.

  I could feel his breath on my back, his harsh panting, and could tell he was close. As close as I was to finding it, to hitting it again.

  "Goddamn, Lace," he grunted. "So fucking good."

  That's all it took for me to fall off the edge of the earth into that swirling morass of extreme pleasure. I was glad I had done the face plant, because I had gotten loud in my delight.

  I felt him lever up as he planted a foot on the bed next to my hip before he began to go even deeper, swelling even thicker, his hips pistoning even faster. I glanced behind me and watched as he closed his eyes, bit his lower lip and lifted his face to the ceiling. The muscles in his neck corded when he began to growl. A growl I knew signaled his own bliss was on its way.

  His abs were flexing then releasing as he thrusted, pounded himself into me.

  Jack ended it as he had each time we'd been together.

  "I love you, Lacey," he growled from that deep place inside him as he shoved himself ball deep and stayed there.

  It was absolutely, bar-none, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life.

  This was our round two of the evening which had been even better than round one, mainly because we were starting to be less shy, more vocal, seemingly more comfortable with one another. Especially when naked.

  While Jack never seemed to have a problem with his nudity, I was still trying not to be so shy. Not to feel like if this part is uncovered then that part needed to have the sheet draped over it, or if my top was off, then my panties needed to be on and vice versa. I think mainly I was getting over it after the shower sex of that morning.

  Just remembering it gave me a shiver.

  "Cold, Tiger?" He asked from his place behind me, where he'd fallen to catch his breath after he'd climaxed.

  "No, honey," I murmured as I turned my head towards him and scooted to where he was. I laid my head in 'my' spot on his shoulder, basically draping myself over him. "Just thinking about this morning. In the shower."

  He turned his head. I got a shimmering look plus a hot, full-on smile.

  "Thought we were going to have to forgo it when we didn't have condoms," he admitted. "I didn't relish the idea of being in pain all day since I already had blue-balls from sleeping next to you. Christ, Lace, you're sexy even when you're fucking sleeping."

  I tilted my head to look up at him. He was easy to see since he'd turned on practically every light in his room except the one in the ceiling.

  My Jack liked lights on for our naked parties.

  We'd awakened that morning with our limbs entwined, sheets tangled and began by kissing. Jack's way of kissing, the way he liked to start slow before moving onto the deep, wild, wet way, was the start of a chain reaction. A reaction that included hands touching every square inch of skin available, then on to skin that wasn't so readily available until tab 'A' was poised at slot 'B' until he'd groaned and rolled off me.

  "Fucking hell, Lace," he'd complained on a deep rumble as he'd draped an arm over his face.

  "What?" I asked with a note of disappointment in my voice. Stopping like that, right before things were going to get really, really good, could harm a girl, you know?

  "No goddamn condoms," he explained slowly.

  Oh, yeah. Condoms.

  I hadn't thought to bring them, mainly because I had only planned to be out at the farm for a couple of hours or so. Plus, I've never been a girl that tucks them into her purse or back pocket with the thought of 'just in case'. That wasn't who I was nor had it ever been.

  Up until Jack, I still hadn't figured out what all the hullabaloo was about regarding sex.

  I was getting it now, though.

  Oh, yeah.

  Thinking that the party was over before it had a chance to go any further, I'd gotten out of bed and pulled his t-shirt, my borrowed night wear, off the floor. It had landed there when he'd yanked both it and my panties off me earlier and made my way downstairs. Just because I was in a different place, didn't mean I was going to stop my routine.

  Put coffee on and then shower while it brewed.

  Jack had obviously been thinking things over when I was downstairs.

  Creative things.

  Because he was a split second behind me when I stepped into the shower and we had another party under the wet spray, that ended in a score of two to one, my favor. I got two orgasms, once with his fingers, the other with his mouth. While he got one by me using my hands.

  I'm here to say it was sublimely awesome.

  I don't quite remember using soap or even making an effort of cleaning myself except, you know, down there.

  I turned my head back down as I began to rub his well-built chest and ran my hand over the defined muscles of his abs. "So where'd you get the condoms tonight if you didn't have any this morning?"

  I heard his chuckle from beneath my ear.

  "During the meeting with the guys, I just made mention I didn't have any. That I didn't want to poke my head above ground to go get some with all the media fuckers in town. All three of them reached into their pockets, their wallets and, before I knew it, I had a hell of a nice little stash," he explained, the laughter still in his voice.

  "They carry them?" I asked, shocked. I don't know why but the thought of Boots and Sarge walking around with condoms in their pockets or wallets was mind-boggling. They were old, for chocolate's sake!

  "Shit, Sarge had three in his wallet and mumbled he was going to have to stop to get some more before tonight after he'd only boosted one." This was said with a sharp bark of laughter. "Turner had a full strip on him, peeled off three and, Baby, that asshole doesn't share shit with anyone."

  I couldn't stop my giggles, except to tell the truth, I was embarrassed, too. Now all three of those guys would know that we were doing the nasty. Then again, I guess it would've been weird, maybe even unhealthy, if we weren't.

  "I like having you here, Lace," Jack said softly before I felt him kiss my hair.

  "I like being here, honey," I admitted back just as soft. "But, I don't see what those photographers could do that would be so scary if I was at home."

  There was quiet while he was thought before he spoke.

  "Someone took a knife to your tires, Tiger," he advised. "All four tires were ripped to shreds according to Sarge. He said that someone had tried to jimmy the backdoor to the bakery, too."

  I let that sink in and as I did, I felt him turn so we were face to face on our sides.

  "Baby, that's fucking vandalism. It’s the least of what some paps will do to get info. They get paid for their snaps, for any fucking info they can snag on whomever they've been told to follow. They'll go through your trash, use telephoto lens to capture you in the cracks of your drapes, fucking keep you trapped until you talk about whatever they want to know," he exp
lained, serious now. "I've lived it. Lived it for years. Its fucking scary even when you're used to it."

  He kissed me slow and tenderly.

  "I don't want you to fucking go through that. Ever," he continued, his midnight velvet voice firm. "I don't want you or Grams to have any of that fucked up, whacked out shit that came with me because of my old life. Understand?"

  "Yeah, honey. I understand," I replied back, humbled by the protective note in his voice. "Speaking of…we need to talk about Grams."

  He pulled back and I saw one eyebrow raise.

  "This may not be my place, or even any of my business, however I think she needs a bedroom downstairs. I noticed the steps are a problem for her, with her knees plus whatever else she's got going on," I explained, remembering watching as Edie tried to climb the stairs to go to bed earlier. I'd gotten sympathy pains in my own legs when I saw her practically pulling herself up the banister and had ran to help her.

  "Which room?" he asked gently, thoughtfully rolling on to his back.

  "I was thinking the dining room would work since the bathroom is just off it. You'd need to have some of those bar things installed in the tub maybe by the toilet, too. Other than adding a place to hang her clothes it'd be nothing but shifting furniture," I explained.

  "You've given this some study," he murmured, his eyes were on the ceiling. I could practically hear the gears in his head moving.

  "Yeah, honey," I murmured back, unwilling to break his train of thought. I remained quiet to give him the space, the time, to think.

  "Baby? If I get the appointment, can you take her to the doctor tomorrow?" he asked finally.

  "My pleasure," I answered immediately. With his face so front and center in the news there was no way he was going to be able to leave the farm for a while, and Edie shouldn't be driving if she was feeling poorly. "I need to make a grocery run anyway but I'll make that a separate trip. Can I use your truck?"

  He turned his head back to me with a frown.

  "That isn't my truck," he said. "All the cars belong to Grams."

  "Oh," I said, wondering about his frown.

  He shifted to lean over me, forcing me over onto my back as he slid his hand into mine, interlacing our fingers.