Dirty Disaster (Low Down & Dirty Book 2)

by Addison Moore

  Kali and Jules help dole it out while Mack pulls Poppy to the side for a minute. Most likely to congratulate her on a well-done performance.

  Conner comes in red-faced and angry. “What the fuck, dude?” Those daggers in his eyes promise to stab the balls right off my body first chance they get.

  “Whoa.” I nod as we step off to the side. “Watch your mouth. There are ladies present.” Okay, so I might be holding in a laugh, but only because I know how much this is killing him right now. A part of me knows I should put him out of his misery, but I’m rather enjoying that pained look on his face.

  His shoulder butts into mine as he sets his angry face before me. Conner has Poppy’s eyes, and there have been times where just looking at him hurt. “One of those ladies is my little sister. Dude, have you lost your mind? I see what you do with those girls you pick up at the bar—it’s not pretty. And it’s not happening to my baby sister.”

  “Look, loosen up. I’m not doing those things with her.” There. At least now he can catch his breath and maybe sleep at night. The dude is about to stroke out. “We’re taking it slow. Just seeing where things might lead.”

  “They lead nowhere.” Conner jabs his finger hard into my chest, leaving a sting that radiates from his furtive stab. “Knock this shit off. I’ll have six girls sent to your office come Monday. Just lay the hell off my sister.”

  “What’s this?” Poppy pokes her head between us. “He’s not laying the hell off me, Conner. He’s my personal boy toy.” Poppy cups my cheeks with her palms, and I twist into her. Holy hell, she is about to get us both killed. “Jax Stade doesn’t need six women sent to his office.” There’s something just this side of a dare in her eyes, and instinctively my balls warn me to be very, very afraid. We might be playing our mothers, taking her psychotic brother along for the ride, but something in that glib expression of hers says the joke might just be on yours truly. “The only woman Jax will ever need is me.” Her eyes linger on mine, and I’m mesmerized by how convincing she is. She’s right, of course. I’m just not sure she’s aware of it.

  “A toast!” Charlene cries while holding up a slice of her sinful chocolate cake.

  “Yes!” Mom shouts, holding up her own slice of chocolate heaven. I’ve grown up on that better than sex confection, and I can attest to its name. Although I’m betting a roll in the sack with Poppy might change that perspective. A visual of her falling over my lap like a jackhammer treks through my mind. Her naked body, pale, beautiful, those tits bouncing like—

  “To Poppy and Jax!” Mom brings her hand to her chest as tears glitter in her eyes. “May the journey lead to a blessed union in the very near future!”

  Poppy and I groan in unison. It never takes long for our mothers to do the matrimonial math.

  “And children!” Char holds up a fork full of cake. “Lots and lots of children!”

  The room breaks out into a sorry sort of congratulatory chaos—with the exception of the sheer exuberance of our mothers.

  “How about a kiss?” Frasier holds up his wine, proving he’s legitimately toasted.

  Both Charlene and Mom look to one another slack-jawed—most likely ticked that they didn’t think of it first.

  “A kiss?” Poppy whispers. “That just might be the icing on the cake.” Her fingers press into my side as if encouraging me to take the initiative. But I don’t need encouragement. I’m already there.

  I lean in, and her eyes widen. Her mouth falls open, and as much as I’d like to think it was out of anticipation, Poppy looks just as floored as everyone else in the room.

  But I go for it. My lips brush lightly over hers, and the world, my life, my heart stops. I have kissed a cast of thousands—mostly horny as hell women. My lips have touched even more than that, but this simple, lighter than air, feathery brush has proven far more erotic than anything I’ve ever experienced.

  Poppy pulls back with a breath caught in her throat.

  Our mothers moan and gasp for breath themselves in disbelief.

  “You kissed me,” Poppy mouths just before biting down on a smile waiting to break through.

  “And I’m going to do it again.”

  “Oh no, you’re not.” Conner spins me toward him, and the last thing I see is the whites of his outraged eyes before his fist connects with my jaw. And just like that, a fistfight of the ages breaks out.

  There are two things I’ve waited years to do—first, land another kiss onto Poppy’s lips. And second, beat the shit out of Conner Montgomery.

  Chapter 2 * Sensual Shenanigans

  Poppy

  There are two things I’ve waited years for. The first was to feel Jax Stade’s lips against mine just one more time. And the second, to see our mothers worked up like a pair of cackling hyenas who unbeknownst to them have landed on the receiving end of the high jink laden crazy train they’ve been commandeering for as long as I’ve known them.

  The Starry Nights Bar and Grill is sparsely populated on this cold as a witch’s tit afternoon. I’ve always hated that sexist expression that my brother seemed to be so fond of, but on this below zero arctic hour, it seems to be a fitting description. I glance around and spot Sadie talking to Hunter, our old childhood friend who took this place over from his father. Handing things down to your children is sort of a rite of passage in Oak Grove, be it a billion-dollar steel company, a bar and grill, or even a crappy sense of humor.

  I head over, offering Hunter a spontaneous hug. Hunter is handsome and sweet—a dangerous combination of everything right. He once asked me on a date to the movies in our junior year and never bothered to show. He apologized profusely and cited cold feet, and we’ve never brought it up again. I never seemed to have any luck with the boys in Oak Grove, so the incident didn’t scar me all that much.

  “What’s up, Montgomery?” Hunter hands me a soda from under the counter. “What’s this I hear about you taming Stade?” His blond brows meet in the middle as if this were a genuine crisis of vaginal proportions.

  I glance to Sadie as the truth bubbles up my throat. I can’t go around lying to everyone I know.

  Sadie gives a slight shake of the head. “Yes. It’s a new endeavor they’re embarking on—but come on. Everyone who’s anyone in Oak Grove has known those two were destined for one another.”

  “Right,” I say convincingly. “We’ve finally laid our mothers to rest.” Way to sound morbid. But if the bitter truth does them in, then it’s spot-on.

  Hunter grunts, “Nice, Pop. It sounds like you killed them. And you know what else you killed? My business. Word on the estrogen-laden street gets out and my nightly bar crawlers will reduce by a third.”

  “A third, huh?” I muse at my old friend. “I didn’t realize Jaxson Stade’s penis was responsible for boosting both the clientele and the economy at Starry Nights.”

  Hunter groans just as an entire gaggle of distraught looking women stagger in. “Please don’t say the word penis under my roof. And I’d better go console the masses. I just want you to know, I’m holding you personally responsible for the financial decline around here.”

  “Very funny,” I say, pulling Sadie into the nearest seat. “Could you believe that riot last night?”

  She leans in as her lids grow heavy. “I’m still stuck on that kiss.”

  “That kiss.” I suck in my bottom lip as I drink down the memory. Sure, it was just a whisper, but it might as well have been a scream as far as my girl parts were concerned. I had an honest to God thigh quivering, orgasmic power surge right there in front of our families—my mother, my irate brother, and my father for God’s sake! “Who knew it was volatile enough to send cake flying? And don’t for a minute think I feel bad about it. It feels sinfully delicious serving those mischief mavens their just desserts after years of living under their tyranny.”

  She winces. “How’s poor Conner?”

  “Poor Conner was doted on all night by my mother. The swelling has gone down, and unlike Mack’s unofficial diagnosis, I’m po
sitive he’ll have children one day.”

  Conner may have started the fight, but Jaxson Man of Steel finished it.

  “I guess this thing between the two of you might actually cost them their friendship.”

  “Are you kidding?” I practically fall over in disbelief. “This thing we have is about as real as that plastic Christmas tree still sulking in the corner. As soon as we break the news to our mothers, Conner will have a good laugh and recover. I’m sure they’ll hug it out, and Jax will probably buy him a private jet or something equally ridiculous that screams this might be over, but my dick is still bigger than yours.”

  Sadie belts out a laugh. Her tiny white teeth glow against those ruby red lips. I’ve always admired Sadie’s perfect picket fence smile. While I suffered years of orthodontia at the hands of the town sadist, my good friend with the consummate chompers invested her time and energy in garnering boys who appreciate that pretty white smile. For as many dates as I didn’t have, Sadie made up the depraved difference.

  “So, what’s next? You taking that billionaire bad boy into the living room and having a feast off his body for all to see?”

  “As tempting as teaching our mothers a lesson via better than sex cake, I think I’ll pass on the voyeuristic display. Seeing that my father and brother are being pulled into this indelicate disaster, I think I should at least show an ounce of decorum.”

  “Okay, but just an ounce. This isn’t about your father or brother. It’s about teaching a lesson to those two nosy Nancys, who by the way rained on all of my parades by proxy. Who do you think was left holding the bag during your sweet sixteen when they thought it was a good idea to set your hair on fire?”

  “I’m pretty sure that was an accident.” The memory of leaning in to blow out my cotton candy pink candles comes to mind and I shudder. “It was simply a case of too much flammable hairspray.”

  Sadie grunts, “That coupled with the fact those seemingly innocent birthday candles morphed into rocket launchers the second you puckered those pretty little lips.” She makes a face. “I couldn’t drive any faster to the ER, Poppy.”

  “That’s because you weren’t the one who was driving. It was Jax who was breaking laws behind the wheel.”

  Her lips twist as she nods in agreement. “He was always there for you, Pops. I don’t know why Conner is shocked by your fake news. It should be real. Both you and I know that.”

  My phone bleats and does a quick spin over the table, and I scoop it up. “Hmm,” I muse. “It’s a text from the mischievous maven herself.” POTS is having their annual dinner gala next Friday night! Deb and I wanted to know if you and Jaxson wouldn’t mind popping in! Dinner and dancing at the Leopard Lodge. All the spaghetti you can eat! Let me know, and I’ll cover the cost.

  I flash the phone at my old friend. POTS stands for Pounds Off the Sensible Way. I’ve always been amused at how the word way was left off for the sake of creating a lingo friendly acronym. My mother and Deb have been members since before I was born, always battling those thirty unwanted pounds while whipping up an entire kitchen of delicious desserts that landed them there in the first place. Of course, Mom and Deb provide the local chapter of POTS with their latest, greatest kitchen creations, which in turn keeps the local chapter the least productive in weight loss in the entire Western Hemisphere. I’m convinced their efforts to join the chapter is just one long-running practical joke they’re playing on the hips of the women of Oak Grove. After all, if Char and Deb were going to be forced to carry their freshman fifteen for the rest of their lives, they’ll be damned if the entire town isn’t going to join them.

  “This, my friend, is what I’ll be doing in exactly one week.”

  “Sounds perfectly scandalous. But an entire week?” She shakes her head with a look of disappointment. “You’ve got to step up your messing with mama game. If you want to play this off as the real deal, the two of you need to see one another far more than just the requisite visit sponsored by dear old Mom. A real couple would be joined at the hip by now.”

  “Joined at the hip.” A visual of Jaxson’s very naked hips thrusting up against me floats through my mind, and suddenly it feels a balmy one hundred sixty-nine delicious degrees in here.

  “Easy, girl.” Sadie fans me with the menu. “If that’s what thinking of doing the deed with Jaxson does to you, I’d hate to see the aftermath. Being laid up in the burn unit isn’t a good look on you. Your sixteen-year-old self can attest to that. Girl, you are going to go up like a Roman candle.”

  “Am not.” I snatch the menu from her and get to business with it myself. Damn air seems to have lost all its oxygen. “Besides, we’re not sleeping together. We’re just threatening to. Speaking of which, who are you heating the sheets with?” Yes, I’ve stooped to invoking my mother’s own euphemism for sex with my bestie just to get off the topic of Jax thrusting at me a million blue-eyed miles an hour. Dear God, she’s right. If Jax ever landed me horizontal, I’d rocket right into space and burn up long before I hit the stratosphere.

  She gives a little nod toward the bar. “What do you think we’re doing at Starry Nights in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “Having lunch?”

  “No, you nitwit. We’re having the owner. Or at least I’m attempting to.” She straightens in her seat a bit. This is a good time to pause and let you in on the fact that Sadie Richards is the only person on the planet who has garnered the right to call me a nitwit to my face and not get throat punched in the process. Besides, we’ve both done enough storied things to earn a dunce cap made of solid fool’s gold.

  “You’re trying to bag Hunter?” My mouth falls open as I marvel at the thought. Everyone in Oak Grove knows that Hunter is a good catch. In fact, before Sadie met and divorced Pervy Hervy—okay, so it’s Peter Hervy, but trust me, it amounts to the same damn difference—I tried my best to set her up with the cute bar owner in question. “What are you waiting for? Go up there and set your net. I’m always looking to learn from the master. Besides, you know I’ve been dying to see your game in action.” I’m not teasing. Sadie is a genius when it comes to picking out a guy and landing him flat on his back with the deft and dexterity of a pro wrestler. Thankfully, she and Peter chose not to procreate, so the disassembling of their union went a lot cleaner and neater than expected.

  “Oh, hon, there are some secrets a girl has to keep to herself. Once I teach you my wicked ways, there’s no turning back from that good time. Besides, you don’t need a net.” Sadie leans in and pulls a strand of my hair off my forehead. “When was the last time you landed a man between those sexy hairy legs of yours?”

  “Ha! I’ll have you know I shave regularly now.” So what if I preferred the furry look in high school? Have I mentioned the subarctic climate in this neck of Colorado?

  “No, you don’t. And again, when is this boy expected to face plant into your—”

  “Would you stop? That’s disgusting.” I pretend to be affronted, but at this point Sadie knows me too well.

  “Both you and I know Jax specializes in gifting women a night they can never forget. This is your golden moment, sister, and if you don’t take it, I’m going to have to revoke your girl card. Get out of here right now—find that boy and bed him. And trust me, you won’t have to tell me when it happens. I’ll already know.”

  “You’re a sexual psychic now, too? It’s good to know Oak Grove has been good to you.”

  “I’ll know by the smoke signals your happy, finally content little fun box sends into the sky.” She pulls a tight smile. “Jaxson and you aren’t going to heat the sheets—you’re going to set the entire damn town on fire. Now, get out of here.” She gives a little wink to Hunter as he makes his way over. “Two’s a party. Three’s a good time I’m not having with you. Now, scoot!”

  “I get it,” I say as I hightail it to the exit. It’s time for Sadie to get her groove back.

  Maybe getting my groove back with Jaxson wouldn’t be such a bad thing?

 
; And with that, I head to the car. Oddly enough, it takes me straight to Stade Steel.

  Go figure.

  I’ve spent my childhood on this deserted end of town with Jax. Jaxson’s father used to host a field trip with the entire school each year. But my favorite times were the private tours that Jax would give me. He was an exceptional tour guide, and I pretended to be very interested in melted alloys being laid out in sheets. But the only thing I was really interested in was the boy proudly showing me the empire he would one day take over.

  I park just outside the corporate office, a tall, boxy building that spans nine floors with Stade Steel taking up a majority of it, but the first few floors are rented out to everyone from dentists to an art gallery. Stade Steel has always been the heart and lungs of Oak Grove. My mother used to say we would have faded off the map long ago without them. I know it’s true. Stade Steel has turned into the biggest industrial employer just this side of Denver. I get out and pause as I take in the factory in the distance with its haunting large smokestacks set amidst piles of fresh fallen snow. The contrast of dark and light—you couldn’t tell the story of the rich and poor in Oak Grove better than that. My father has always done pretty well for himself, so we never felt the sting of not having our basic needs met, but I knew from hanging out at the Stade’s mega mansion that we were far from wealthy. I think the only thing that’s kept Jaxson’s feet on the ground is the fact his grandfather chose Oak Grove to bless with this factory.

  The wind picks up and ushers me into the slick stainless building, crafted from what else? Stade Steel. The lobby is elegant with glass and black granite. When I was a kid, I thought this was a beautiful place to host my fab dream wedding to Jaxson. Yes, my mother and her cohort in engagement-ring-bearing-arms had me brainwashed for a time. Although now that I’m older and wiser, I clearly see that the lobby of Stade Steel, Incorporated is much better suited for a naughty daytime romp than it ever is crystal flutes of champagne and dinner plates full of prime rib.