by Kristy Marie
“I’ll let him dress at game time. I read the ballparks have some kind of weird dress code. Something about wearing socks and shoes or some shit. So maybe I’ll let him put on socks and shoes.”
Smartass.
“As long as you feed and walk him at some point,” I say with a chuckle, getting up and heading to the bedroom door.
“Come hug Mommy and Daddy goodbye.”
I ignore him. It’s the only way to deal with this type of taunting from Theo. I’ve learned this over the past year and a half. Most days, we all take it in stride and pop off with something equally demeaning, but since Breck’s arrival an hour ago, I’m on edge and need the physical release. Instead of a nasty remark, I punch Theo’s arm as hard as I fucking can.
“Now is that any way to show your feelings, Jameson? If you’re going to act out about it” —he rubs his upper arm, a shitty grin still wide on his asshole face—“I’ll let you kiss me on the cheek.”
Before I can rush him and throw his ass down on the gravel, Anniston steps in front of me. “Don’t let them burn the place down, okay?” On her tiptoes, she places a feather kiss to my cheek. I chance a look at Breck who’s been standing off to the side watching this shit-show transpire. She looks away quickly but I catch her glaring at Anniston before she does.
That’s interesting.
Anniston makes her rounds, hugging each of the guys and spouting off last minute orders. I watch Breck the entire time. She never takes her eyes off the ground.
“Okay, time to get on the road, Ans. All your goodbyes are getting my dick hard,” Theo says, knocking into my shoulder, pulling my attention away from Breck. “Fuck her. For the whole two weeks,” he whispers into my ear.
I glance at Breck to see if she heard his crude suggestion, but she’s still finding something highly interesting on her shoes. Theo continues, “Get her out of your system, man. Screw that whole celibacy shit right into her pussy. Fuck her and chuck her.”
Sighing, I ignore his comment. “Try not to be too big of a dick while you’re away, Theo. Commander packed enough restraints to keep you immobile for days.” He scoffs but I continue, “That’s if you’re conscious after she plows you from behind with the strap-on I saw stashed in her suitcase.”
It’s total bullshit, but by the way his brows lower and his asshole grin morphs into a frown, I feel pretty proud of myself. I clap him on the shoulder, “Enjoy the honeymoon. Drive carefully.”
I walk away with a chuckle catching a low “Uh huh” from Theo.
“All right. Come on, Ans. You better go before we all get diabetes from your sweet goodbyes.”
Anniston pulls away from Hayes, tears evident in her eyes, and launches at me hard, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hold on to her easily but then she whispers, “I love you. You know that, right?” I nearly lose my grip as a weird noise bubbles in my throat and my stomach clenches with something like cramps.
“I … I know. I love you, too,” I say, sounding like a chain smoker.
Anniston’s smile is wide, displaying her perfect teeth. She gives me a kiss on the cheek before Theo yanks her from me. “Goddammit, Ans. One more second and I’m gonna come in my pants. Let’s go! It’s tradition to blow the groom in the rental car, and I’m tired of waiting.”
He swats her ass and tosses her over his shoulder, intent on putting her in the car with no more interruptions, except to holler one more parting asshole remark. “Behave, boys. And keep it wrapped. We’re too young to be grandparents.”
I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out.
This motherfucker. I might actually miss his ass.
Nah.
I flip him off and wave at Ans buckled into the passenger seat until the car disappears out of the driveway. Then I turn to Breck and politely ask, “Can I offer you a ride home?” Her mouth falls open as if she’s shocked that I would ask such a thing thirty seconds after Theo drove away with the commander.
It’s best if Breck realizes I’m an asshole now. I’m giving her the option to leave before she thinks any less of me. I almost want her to stay with her pouty bottom lip that has me ready to snatch the back of her hair and bring her face to mine just so I can bite it back into a smile.
But I can’t.
I’m not a man that deserves her attention.
It’s best if she leaves, for my sake and hers.
When I realize Breck has still not answered my question and it’s grown quiet amongst all of us, I chance a look at Vic who just shrugs at me. He’s no help. I let out a sigh, suck in my resolve, and raise an eyebrow into my don’t-fuck-with-me face, and repeat, “Can I offer you a ride home, Breck?”
From here it looks as though she’s on the verge of tears, but I can’t be sure because she flips me off, turns on her heel, and storms inside. The only sound as the five of us stand here is the screen door bouncing off the frame.
“That was harsh, dude.”
I glare at Hayes who has no business giving me etiquette advice. How many times has he made women cry by leaving them before he tossed the condom in the trash?
“Aren’t you late for work? I thought I heard Theo say you were scouting a local high school prospect today.”
Theo and Hayes started up a professional baseball scouting agency when Theo retired from the big leagues. The new job keeps Theo in the game but not away from Ans for very long like they both wanted. With Theo and Hayes staying busy, Ans and I have had time to grow our foundation the way we’ve always envisioned, including the new barracks to house additional veterans. We’re trying to grab high-risk guys recently discharged from the military and build skills they need to transition into civilian life before they end up on the street. It’s a brilliant system and we’re anxiously awaiting the new space.
Hayes nods his head in agreement and chuckles. “I sure do, boss. See you bitches later.” He claps Mason on the shoulder as he makes his way to the porch. “Make sure major gets his shower time.” He makes a jerk-off motion with his hand and then cuts me a grin over his shoulder. “Otherwise, you’ ll have one hell of a day.”
Seriously? How many assholes do we have in this house?
“You’re working my nerves, Hayes.”
He laughs and bounds up the stairs. “That’s not all you’re going to be working tonight, Major.”
Everyone is a fucking comedian. You take a long shower occasionally and they all think you’re in there whacking off. There is absolutely no anonymity in this house.
Mason comes over as I stare at the fucking screen door that still hasn’t latched. I am going to fix that—today. “It’s just two weeks. Don’t forget who you are.” He taps me on the chest and walks away, instantly making me feel guilty for hurting Breck’s feelings.
Screaming fuck into the open pasture does nothing but cause Tim and Vic to look at each other with wide eyes. “I’m fine,” I reassure them. “I just need a run. I’ll be back.”
They both nod wordlessly, and I take off into a sprint before I can do or say anything else. Two weeks with Breck is going to be a disaster.
B,
I got your package yesterday. You and Jess are too sweet to me. Classic Batman DVDs? Where did you even find the vintage covers? Christmas in the desert hasn’t been too bad. Major Jameson asked me and Captain Jameson if they could have some beers with me and watch the Batman DVDs. I’m pretty trashed from all the beers but at least the homesickness is fading and I had a nice time. I hope you and Jess are having a great Christmas. Tell Jess she can always send me nudes to perk me up.
#thenewxmensucked #yougavethemtoomanystars #merrychristmasbrat
Private Brannon
Head pounding, I tiptoe down the stairs of the plantation. I couldn’t sleep after Cade woke me, screaming out, “No, Drew!” The gut-wrenching sounds as he struggled to pull himself from the nightmare tore at my heartstrings. Sounds of pure anguish poured out into the hallway for almost twenty minutes before I got up to go check on him.
Just because he was a dic
k and ignored me for the rest of the day yesterday doesn’t mean I want him to suffer. Well, maybe he can suffer a little, but not like that. I didn’t have to concern myself though, because by the time I put my hand on his door, Hayes stopped me and said he had him.
For two hours, I laid there listening to the rhythmic pounding of the treadmill before it finally stopped. I don’t know if he went back to bed or went outside. Honestly, I was too nervous to check. He sounded like he was in so much pain, and I know from experience, that with pain comes anger. And I’m no one’s punching bag. So I pulled out my laptop and messaged Jess.
Being an insomniac herself, she’s always up late at night. Like a best friend, she didn’t ask me what was wrong or why I was up at the ass-crack of dawn. She just let me vent about the new sucky Netflix series we had high hopes for.
After a couple hours of working on our latest review of the new Marvel movie, she crashed and I decided I may as well get up and prepare the guys breakfast. Anniston said they get up at five-thirty, but she thought they might take the opportunity and sleep in with her being away. Either way, I’ll have their breakfast ready for whenever they decide to come down.
The kitchen is spotless and smells of cleaner when I finally manage to get to it after falling down a couple missed steps on the staircase. Note to self: Fuzzy socks and hardwood stairs do not mix.
The plantation is old, but the inside has been totally updated, and it’s gorgeous. I reach out, running my hand along the smooth butcher block island, a double oven with six burners, basically, every chef’s dream kitchen. Hot damn, B is doing some cooking today! But first, I need some Tylenol. This throbbing headache behind my eyes is bringing me down like a bad hangover.
Before she left, Anniston gave me a tour of the house. Located downstairs is a fully stocked medical office where she treats the guys for minor injuries and illnesses. But surely, as a physician, she keeps regular meds somewhere close by. I believe the exam room stays locked and only one person has a key, and I’ll bet that one person is Cade. No way am I breaking down and asking him where I can find the pain reliever. I’ll suffer before I ask that asshole.
I start with the cabinets, going through each one and coming up empty-handed until I see the two small upper cabinets above the refrigerator. Who the hell can reach that? Well, I guess the guys can pretty easily since most of them are at least six feet. My five-foot-six frame will not cut it though. I grab one of the bar stools and drag it to the counter. Before I put all my weight on the granite countertop, I test one foot. I’m not a beluga whale by any means but I like to eat, so a stick I am not.
The counter doesn’t creak or splinter in cracks with my Superman socked foot bearing down on it so I risk it and put my full weight down, reaching over to the cabinet. It’s still difficult with the refrigerator in the way, but I manage to get the door open and spot meds. I stretch as far as I can, one leg lifting behind me to keep me balanced. Almost … I can just barely get my fingers on the—
“What the fuck are you doing?”
The hateful-ass voice startles me and the bottle of precious Tylenol goes flying to the floor, knocking the lid off and scattering all the tiny miracles of pain relief.
“Damn it! Look what you made me do,” I yell at Cade who is standing in the doorway, sweaty and sexy—wait, no, I mean sweaty and asshole. He crosses his arms, and the look of disgust on his face makes me want to throw the rest of the shit in this cabinet at him.
“Look what I made you do?” he repeats back in a huff. Disbelief clouds his features as he takes a hesitant step in my direction.
You will not look at his bulging arms, I tell myself. You will not—fuck it. They are so damn delicious.
His forearm flexes as if he’s forcefully keeping his arms together. The movement has me spellbound as I envision swiping the tip of my tongue along its ridges.
“What the fuck are you doing, Breck?”
His clipped tone pulls me from my fantasy, and I snap to attention, a hand on my hip. “Why do you keep the damn pain relievers up so high? I mean, it’s not like—”
A very excited voice interrupts my rant. “Holy fucking shit. My fantasy has come true.”
I turn around to see a smiling Hayes licking his lips while his eyes make a slow trail down the length of my legs. “I call dibs,” he taunts at Cade with a playful bounce on his heels.
“Get down from there,” Cade barks at me way too loud for this hour in the morning. Mason appears behind them, wearing a knowing smile.
Embarrassed and feeling like I’m the kid caught sneaking candy before dinner, I push away from the cabinets and carefully inch back to my stool to get down. Now is not the time to argue with Major Pain in the Ass. I’ll just get my two Tylenol from the floor and swallow them down like a lady and make these assholes some breakfast. Cade can kiss my ass with his—fuck! My socks slip on the granite and I nearly take a swan dive off the counter, but I’m a ninja and totally save myself by grabbing the cabinet knobs.
“Dammit!”
I feel him before I see him. Cade swipes me from the countertop and sets me on the floor like I weigh nothing. If it had been in a different setting, I would have felt like a princess being swept off her feet. But alas, it’s just me in a kitchen full of Marines, one who wants me gone, and the only thing that will serve as a memory is the sweat of being in his arms for just a second, lingering on my skin. If I admit that I sniffed him, will you judge me? It’s been a long time. Give me this one moment.
Almost in a trance from the sweet smell of his deodorant, I mutter, “You’re sweaty.”
Cade scoffs and pushes away from me. “Go put some fucking clothes on! It’s not appropriate for you to be in socks and a fucking t-shirt. Men live here!”
I almost laugh in his face and call him on his bullshit. Anniston has never come to the market in a conservative outfit. It may look like I don’t have shorts on under this USMC t-shirt, but I do. So he can take his nun-like attitude and save it for someone who gives a rat’s ass. But I’m a professional, so I take a step forward, cross my legs, and curtsy right in front of him. “Yes, sir,” I say.
The kitchen goes silent until Hayes lets out a snort and doubles over in laughter. A grin tugs at my lips but I keep it contained out of self-preservation. Cade, a face red with fury, is not laughing. Maybe taunting him after a rough night was a bad idea.
“Go. Put. Some. Fucking. Clothes. On.” Each word is gritted out through clenched teeth, and it has the intended effect. Humiliation crawls across my face and I push through Mason and Hayes without letting a single tear fall. I make it all the way to the guest room before the first of many wet splatters hit my shirt.
Fuck him.
How dare he embarrass me like that in front of the guys. I’m dressed. I have on shorts for fuck’s sake!
I rip off my clothing and decide to chill out under the spray of the comforting shower. I’m angry, and yes, my feelings are hurt. Part of me wants to go back to the orchard and call Anniston and tell her I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Cade is not who I thought he would be, and I think that’s what bothers me the most. Bennett got to see a different side of him, and it makes me wonder if it’s just me or if this is who he really is now.
Out of the shower, wrapped only in a towel, I flop down onto the bed, my tears finally gone. I’m going home. I’m going to go downstairs and make them breakfast, and then I’m calling Sue. I didn’t sign up for this sort of treatment. I bring up my email, settled in my decision about leaving, and type in Anniston’s email address. Before I talk myself out of it, I type out my resignation.
Anniston,
As much as I hate to do this after only twenty-four hours, I feel like it’s in the best interest of all parties involved for me to resign from giving the guys any further cooking lessons. They seem to do well on their own, and at this point you would waste money by having me here. I appreciate the opportunity and hope you’ll keep us in mind for any future needs you may have.
Sincerely,<
br />
Brecklyn
I hit send, and within a couple of minutes, I get a text back from Anniston. What did he do? The fact that she knows it was Cade causing trouble makes me feel better. For some reason, I thought she may think it was me causing a scene here.
I try to type out a professional and objective response. He’s being a dick. A BIG one. So much for being professional.
Anniston sends a string of laughing emojis and then, He can be. Don’t quit yet. Give him another day to come around. If you still feel like leaving after that, I won’t stand in your way.
Ugh. Why does she have to make me feel bad about it? Okay. Any advice to help me deal with him?
Her response is quick and to the point. Push back.
Hmm. I can do that.
I send her a text back thanking her for the advice then pull out my bag and rifle through the clothes Jess packed for me.
Game on, Major Dick.
Vic and Mason are waiting at the breakfast table by the time I make it back to the kitchen. Showered and changed, I breeze past them and toss them a smile that says what happened earlier means nothing. Clumsy or not, I am not letting Cade’s attitude dampen my morning teaching the two men—who are watching me rather curiously—how to make pancakes.
“Gentleman.”
Mason grins first. “Breck,” he drawls, dragging his finger across the bow of his lips, his eyes dancing with playfulness. At the sink, I wash my hands and say over my shoulder, “I thought we could make pancakes this morning.”
Someone chokes but I don’t look back to see who it is because Mason answers, “Sounds good.”