by Kennedy Fox
As soon as I see the large farmhouse come into view, a big grin fills my face, and Evan notices. He gives me a side glance before parking.
“I love coming here with you,” I tell him, and he grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles like he always does, which I love. The electricity that flows between us is hotter than the Texas heat. Evan notices me tense because there’s nothing more that I want at this very moment than him. Leaning over the console, he pulls my face to his, allowing our lips to dance in a slow, rhythmic movement. My breast is in his palm, and when he squeezes, the heat continues to flood through my body. He has control of me—every part of me—and with a single touch, he sets me ablaze. Slowly, his hand finds its way to the top button of my jeans, to my zipper, and before I can say his name, his hand slips inside my panties. As soon as he touches my clit, I feel as if I’m losing all my inhibitions. Knowing at any moment anyone could pull up next to us turns me on even more.
“Fuck, baby,” he growls, slipping a finger inside. I sink into him, needing to feel him and wanting more. I moan against his mouth, my eyes fluttering closed as he slips another finger in and pushes deeper.
“Evan,” I say, not wanting him to stop but knowing we have to go inside.
“You’re so fucking wet, naughty girl.” The low rumble of his voice and the way his lips slide over my neck combined with his hands in my panties practically blinds me. His thumb continues to tease my clit, and the orgasm starts to build so quickly that even I’m shocked by it.
“Can you come for me, sweetheart?” Evan asks between kisses, his hot breath against my mouth, my cheeks, my neck. Breathless moans fill the cab of the truck as he works me harder and deeper. Within minutes, I’m losing myself in him.
“Yes, yes, more.” My body is greedy, wanting, begging—even demanding it. As my heart races, I tell him I’m close with staggered breaths. With a devilish grin, he slows his pace, allowing my cup to slowly fill until I completely spill over. He slides his fingers in and out one more time; the intensity of it all takes over, and I feel as if I’ve drifted into space as I sink into the euphoria of him. When I finally open my eyes, he’s staring at me with a half-smile before placing his fingers in his mouth. God, that’s so fucking hot when he does that.
“You taste so damn good, baby. I can never get enough of you.”
I smile, searching his face, trying to memorize him, not ever wanting this time to end.
“We should really go in before someone comes out and smells your orgasm all over my truck,” he tells me with a wicked grin.
“Do I look guilty?” I ask him, placing my hands on my cheeks, knowing my face is red and lips are swollen.
“Guilty as charged,” he admits.
“I can’t go in there now. Your mother’s going to know we were just doing something,” I say, paranoid.
“You’ll be fine. Just pretend like nothing happened. Think of shoveling horse crap and how awful you’re going to smell,” he encourages with a shit-eating grin, knowing that’s impossible.
I squeeze my knees together, feeling the throb between my legs, and let out a sigh before opening the door. Evan takes my hand, and we walk up the steps to the house together. Before turning the knob, he looks over at me. “So guilty.”
“Ass,” I whisper.
The house smells like fried food with a hint of sugar. As we walk down the hallway toward the kitchen, I slow at the pictures on the wall and wonder how I’ve not noticed them all this time. Of course Mrs. Bishop is proud of her kids and still has all their photos from kindergarten all the way up to high school hanging on the wall in picture frames. I find Evan’s and can’t help but laugh when I see he had a dorky haircut and braces. He’s wearing a button-up western shirt.
“Sexy.” I cross my arms and look over at him.
“All the ladies wanted me back then. I mean, come on, look at that hair.”
“Yeah, the nineties were good to you.” I snort, much preferring his longer hair. It suits his personality better.
I continue looking at the wall of photos and smile at how much everyone has changed over the years. There are pictures of Jackson at a rodeo, John wrestling a baby calf, and Courtney sitting on top of a horse. There’s a photo collage of Mr. and Mrs. Bishop with all the kids at various ages.
“Your mom is like a TV mom,” I say, noticing how prim and proper she looks in every photograph.
He chuckles. “Except she has a bark and backs it with a bite. Mama’s pretty scary at times, especially when it comes to people messing with her kids.” Evan grabs my hand and continues to lead me to the kitchen.
As soon as Mrs. Bishop sees me, she stops setting the table and comes and gives me a big hug. I squeeze her tightly, happy to feel her sincere affection.
“Oh honey, I’m so glad you guys came. How’re you doin’? Feeling any better?” she asks, and it’s confirmed that Evan’s been keeping her updated on how crappy I’ve felt.
“I’m managing for now. Hoping the second trimester keeps the nausea away, and I can start keeping my food down.” I sigh but give her a comforting smile, so she stops worrying about me so much.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about everything that happened lately and am just so happy you two are able to move forward after all of it.” I know she’s referring to Richard, but we don’t talk about him much anymore.
It feels good to know she cares, but it’s also a painful reminder that she’s more concerned about me than my own mother. I keep a smile for her, staying strong, though the thought of Richard and what almost happened still scares the shit out of me.
“I heard he was transferred to a mental hospital for treatment. I’m just glad he’s finally getting the help he needs,” I tell her.
“As long as he stays there,” she asserts with a firm head nod.
I smile in agreement.
“So,” Mrs. Bishop starts, patting my stomach. “How’s my little grandbaby doin’?”
“Great! He or she is the size of a lemon, sucking all the energy out of me, and everything was measuring just as expected during my last checkup,” I say and glance over at Evan who’s smiling big.
“Now it’s time for a weddin’.” Mrs. Bishop turns to Evan, and I see him shrug. Heat hits my cheeks, and I’m thankful the back door flies open and tears us from the moment. When I see John, I instantly smile. Out of all the brothers, I know he’s the one who has some kept secrets. He’s too quiet when it comes to anything personal, and I’ve learned that people are quiet for a reason. Though he’s always nice to me, I often wonder what’s hiding under that exterior of his.
“Hey Emily,” he says, and I can tell he’s tired by the dark circles under his eyes.
“Hey, how are things?” I ask, keeping my attention on him. Evan is staring as well, and I know I’m not the only one who notices something is up.
“Real good,” John tells me. “I saw the foundation was laid for the house. Happy y’all will be moving closer. I’ll get to see more of my big brother, hopefully.” He grins and tilts his head at Evan.
“Yeah, I’m excited about building our dream home and making it exactly what we need for the baby,” I tell him. “Plus, it will be nice living closer to family,” I say, and Mama grins.
“And I hope you chose a floor plan with enough rooms so you can fill it with more babies.”
I burst out laughing, knowing Evan hates it when his mama gets on him. Though he rolls his eyes, the smile on his face doesn’t falter. “Mama, can you let us have one baby before you start signing us up to have ten?”
“I’m not getting any younger—and neither are you, by the way”—Mrs. Bishop points her finger at Evan—“and I want to be able to enjoy watching my little grandbabies grow up. So all y’all need to be having as many as you can.” She gives John a stern look too. Leave it to a Southern mama to always be begging for more grandchildren.
Just as John opens his mouth to say something, Jackson comes barreling in explaining to Alex exactly how the horses got loose this mor
ning.
“Damn,” Jackson whistles, looking at John. “And I thought I got no sleep from you being so loud last night.” Jackson swings his arms above his head like he’s riding a bucking bull. John narrows his eyes, and I glance at Evan who has his arms crossed over his broad chest. He’s holding back laughter.
“What’re you boys talkin’ about?” Mrs. Bishop asks, turning and looking back and forth between John and Jackson.
“Aw, shit,” Jackson says under his breath. Mama’s eyes widen when she hears him curse, and he swallows it down. She has a way of putting the fear of God into people. “Nuthin’, Mama. Just givin’ John sh—er, crap.”
When she turns toward the sink, John flips him off behind her back. Considering the stories I’ve heard from Evan, Mrs. Bishop will probably bring it up later. Apparently, she’s like an elephant and never forgets anything. Basically, she’s a woman I’d never want to cross, that’s for sure.
“Hi, Emily,” Alex says as he sits down and places his hat on the table. He looks tired, too, but I’m sure it’s from working the ranch or being up late with Riley, not from a late-night rendezvous. Knowing what little I do about John, I never would’ve pegged him for the type, but I’m beginning to realize I have a lot to learn about them all.
“Oh, Ma,” Alex begins, “Dad said he wasn’t gonna make it. Had some last minute things to do.” She turns with her hands planted on her hips, looking unhappy about it.
“I’ll just make him a plate and stick it in the oven to keep it warm then.”
We sit at the table, and everyone removes covers from the food and passes it around, like a real family sit-down dinner.
“Emily, I heard you’ll be helping me at the B&B this afternoon,” John says between bites.
I turn and look at Evan, giving him shit. “I was going out to the pastures with Evan, I thought.”
Evan stifles a laugh. Jerk. “I never said where you’d help.”
Considering I’m pregnant, I really didn’t expect to be out in the heat with them anyway; I just like to tease him about it because I know how worked up he gets about me doing anything laborious. Regardless, I shake my head at him with a side smile, but I’m sure with how tired John looks, he could use the extra hand.
“You can come help me clean the stables since you’re dressed for it,” Jackson adds, wiggling his eyebrows and looking between Evan and me with a smirk.
“Just being paired with you would be enough punishment. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” Evan blurts out. Jackson loves to push Evan’s buttons when it comes to me, and I think it’s hilarious because it’s completely harmless. I’ve seen him do the same shit to Alex about River, and it’s always funny when these Bishop men get riled up so easily.
John rolls his eyes and shakes his head. The conversation continues until we’re all finished eating. Mama serves up ice cream and homemade apple pie, and though I’m full, I can’t deny a sliver of heaven. As the cinnamon and fresh-baked apples hit my tongue, a small moan escapes from my lips. Evan lifts an eyebrow at me and smirks as he goes back to his pie. My breath quickens, and I’m happy when Mr. Bishop walks in and interrupts the tension. Sweat covers his face and neck, and when he takes off his hat, I see his hair and forehead are soaked, too. He sits at the table, and Mrs. Bishop serves him a plate.
“Thanks, darlin’,” he says to her, looking up and giving her a wink and a sweet smile before digging in. There’s so much adoration exchanged in a single look, and it makes me realize what’s been missing with my parents—unconditional love. I think at one point, they cared deeply for each other, but it’s nothing like what Mr. and Mrs. Bishop have. This is exactly why Evan is the way he is; he learned to treat women with respect from watching his father doing it all these years. As for Jackson’s excuse, he remains a mystery to us all.
I listen to Alex chat with his dad about the tasks that need to be completed today, and Evan pipes in with what he plans to do as well. Evan volunteers to take on some of the duties, and when they talk about moving cattle and pulling weeds, I’m happy that I’ll be helping John in the air conditioning wearing ridiculous boots and tight blue jeans instead.
After we help Mrs. Bishop clean up, Evan kisses me goodbye, then looks at John with a pointed stare. There’s a silent agreement exchanged between them, and I’m willing to bet Evan gave him a list of things I can and can’t do, but I don’t ask. The two of them are so much alike, it’s almost scary.
“So if you’re coming with me, we best get movin’,” John tells me, and I follow him out the back door. There’s a utility vehicle waiting by a trail, and I almost laugh because these things don’t really exist in Houston.
“Do you want to drive it?” he asks, grinning.
“Uh yeah,” I say, and he throws me the keys. I catch them, and we walk to the side by side. “Is it just like riding a bike?” I stick the key in the ignition and start it.
“More like driving a car.” He chuckles.
“So you’re a smartass too?” I give him a sideways glance.
“If you only knew,” he says, turning his head smiling.
“Must run in the family.” I push down on the gas, and we jolt forward. John laughs under his breath, and I shake my head at him as we continue down the trail toward the B&B.
When the big house comes into view, John directs me where to park. I drive into the barn, and when we get out, I see a few people sitting out on the back porch playing board games and drinking sweet tea. Jackson walks up, and John immediately shakes his head when he sees him.
“Sure you don’t want to help with the stables? Last chance,” Jackson taunts, holding his arms out wide.
John places his hand on my shoulder and guides me forward, giving Jackson no attention. Before we walk inside, John turns and flips him off.
“I guess I deserve that,” Jackson yells.
When we walk inside, I look at John. “What’s that all about?” I know it’s not any of my business, but I’m curious.
“You really wanna know?" he asks.
I nod.
“Aside from the fact that Jackson doesn't know how to keep his big mouth shut. You heard what he blurted out at lunch. Now Mama isn't gonna let that rest and will continue asking until I cave—or worse—she gets to Jackson, and he caves.”
I smirk, knowing he’s probably right about Mama being persistent. “Was he lying, though?”
He doesn’t answer but instead leads me to an office that's right off the main area. He grabs a schedule book, then we return to the registration counter.
I guess he’s pleading the fifth.
“Today we need to call and confirm reservations for next week,” he explains, hoping to deter us from the subject, but when I give him a look, he knows it's not going to be that easy. He sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “Jackson may be a lot of things, but he's not a liar.”
Damn, wasn’t expecting that one.
“I didn’t think he was, just curious is all,” I offer, but he continues with the task at hand.
“So we'll start at the top of the list here. Just be real polite and confirm the dates of their stay. Should be fairly simple.”
“Okay, sure,” I say, clearing my throat and trying to get my best phone voice ready.
After I place a few calls, John brings me a bottle of water. “If you ever get tired of working at the hospital, I’d hire you on the spot.”
That makes me chuckle. After about an hour, everyone on the list is officially confirmed, and I feel a small sense of accomplishment. Not wasting any time, John finds other tasks that need to get done since the person who usually helps him is on vacation this week. Now I understand why I was paired with John today; he really needs the extra help. He lists out laundry, changing sheets, and stocking towels in the rooms that don’t have DO NOT DISTURB signs hanging. I’ve only been here for a short amount of time, but I’m starting to realize how much goes into running this place on a daily basis and all the behind-the-scenes work.
We head down
stairs and go into a side room where John stuffs sheets and blankets into the washing machine. Once it’s full and he adds the detergent, he turns and looks at me.
“So how are things really going since the incident? You and Evan doing okay with everything?”
“If I answer your questions, you'll have to answer mine.” I smirk. John thinks about it for a moment. Narrowing his eyes, he finally nods. “Fine. But whatever I say doesn’t leave us.”
“Swear,” I tell him, crossing my heart. “Doctor-patient confidentiality,” I tease, but wholeheartedly mean it. I wouldn’t tell his secrets.
“I just don't want my brothers in my personal business.”
“I understand that more than you know.” Considering my family was always knee-deep in my life and what I was doing and who I was dating—I get it.
“Okay, it’s a deal.” John holds out his hand, and I take it, and we shake on it.
“What was the question again?” I ask, pulling towels from the dryer.
“How’re you and my brother doing after everything that’s happened? It’s been a few months since then, but we’ve only seen y’all a handful of times.” The last time we saw the whole family was at Riley’s first birthday party a couple of months ago. We come to the property to check on the progress on the house about once a week, but otherwise, we’ve been working, and when Evan comes out here on his days off, I spend time with Kiera.
“Ah yes,” I tease, remembering the question. “Things were rough at first because I still didn’t feel safe even though there weren’t any threats, but it was just still so fresh that I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched or that I could potentially lose Evan. We’ve both been trying not to take the little things for granted after it all. However, we’re great now. We’re having fun planning for the baby and thinking of decorating ideas for the house, so it keeps my mind busy. Evan’s been my rock through this whole ordeal and is always checking on me and making sure I’m eating food other than licorice.” I laugh, remembering the time I opened my locker to find a basket of fruit with a note he wrote. It said, ‘Dear Mommy, I need to eat fruits and vegetables too. Daddy said so. Love, Baby P.S. Daddy thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.’