by Emilia Finn
“Oh! Sorry.” She laughs so hard that she holds her stomach, throws her head back, and sends her hair flowing over her back. “You’re usually heavier than that.”
“You got strong.” Bry grabs his sister before she can escape the house, yanks her back into what appears to be a hug, but in reality, is a whisper in her ear. “You don’t have to go. We’ve seen this show before, Brooke. You know what will happen if he sends you home crying.”
“Stop it.” She smacks his chest and tries to push back. “We’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”
“I’m waiting up,” he says seriously. “On the front porch. With Grandpa Bry’s shotgun.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to me with a beautiful smile. “Don’t worry. Grandpa Bry’s gun is a myth and hasn’t been seen in more than thirty years. Besides, Bry lies. He would never put Lyss in danger.”
She turns back to her brother. Smacks a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be back later.”
“I heard he kissed you.”
“It’s true.” She skips out the door, but instead of coming to me, she snags Lyss’ hand and pulls her in so Lyss lays her face on Brooke’s stomach. “I liked it, too. He’s good at it.”
“Brooke,” I growl. “Stop it.”
She’s going to get me killed, but she has zero remorse when she only flashes a wicked grin. “Come on.” She holds Lyss close with her right hand, then reaches out and takes mine with her left. “See ya, Bry.”
She drags us down the steps with an air of chilled-the-fuck-out, despite the bullseye she just painted on my back, but now that I’m not on the Kincaid porch, now that I’m not in immediate danger, my eyes take the chance to catalogue her.
She takes my breath away, just as I predicted, as she drags us across the estate toward my car, and her little summer dress flitters around her long legs. The dress is patterned with gold and silver swirls against a white background. Wedge sandals give her an extra inch, they make her calves fire up, and as we walk, her thighs flex and move.
We stop at my car – the beat-up piece of trash that has seen my daughter and me through a whole heap of shit – and watch on as Lyss climbs into the back and fixes her seatbelt, then as I lean in and buckle her up. Lyss’ seat is on the passenger side – Brooke’s side – so she hangs by the passenger door and watches me work, and when I pull out again and stand tall, she only smirks and gives me a look at her face for the first time tonight.
Sparkling coal smudged around her baby blue eyes. Her brows are sharp, perfect, and her hair flows freely and makes my stomach clench. She wears that dress, but over top, a denim jacket with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, and a little purse slung across her chest so the strap rests between her breasts.
“You look beautiful.” I can’t stop the words, though I should. Bryan is still standing on his porch. Still plotting my death. “You look so pretty, Brooklyn, it makes it hard for me to breathe.”
“Aw…” She looks down her body. Smooths the skirt. Then glances up and grins. “Thanks. Santa brought me this dress,” she adds for Lyss’ benefit.
I have no clue if she truly got her dress for Christmas, but it makes my daughter happy, and as a result, makes my stomach flip a second time.
“You ready to get started?” she asks.
“Sure.” I reach out, take her hand, and with surprise in her eyes, I help her lower into her side of the car.
She knows protection, she knows fancy, but does she know chivalry from a date? We’ll see.
“You’ve never dated?” she asks after I race around to my side and slide in. She looks me up and down as I fix my seatbelt. Smirks. “Never? Because you sure as hell know how to do it up right so far.”
“Because I helped you into the car?” I switch on the engine and scoff. “It’s good to know the bar has been set so low. Takes the pressure off me.”
She snorts and swings an arm out to smack my thigh. “Jerk.”
I reverse out of my driveway, catch Lyss’ eye in the mirror – her smile – and let my worry dissipate.
The fact I’ve never dated means Lyss has never known this either. Having the fun Miss Brooke over every now and then is one thing. But to go out on an actual date, to drag my daughter along… it’s a whole other thing, a bigger step, and something that has played on my mind all week.
Please don’t let Lyss hate this change. Please don’t let her make me choose.
As we roll toward the security gate, I catch a glimpse of creamy white thighs where Brooke’s dress has ridden up. Toned legs, pointed knees. Then those blue eyes that catch me staring.
She winks. Bites her tongue, and sends me quietly insane as the gates open ahead of us and draw my eyes back to the road.
“Hey, Miss Brooke?”
“Yeah?” She spins in her seat to face Lyss. “What’s up?”
“How do dragons get fire in their mouths?”
“Uh…” She looks to me in question. Then back to Lyss. “Is that a real question, or are you telling a joke?”
“It’s real. I wanna know how that happens. Because wouldn’t it burn them?”
“Um, well… hmm… dragons aren’t real, sweetpea. They’re made-up, so when the person who made them up did that, they obviously made up the fireproof mouth, too.”
“Okay… but how do they get the fire?”
Brooke frowns. And for the first time in her life, she is introduced to a car ride with Alyssa the Curious. “They’re made-up. There is no fire, baby.”
“But let’s say they’re really real,” Lyss pushes. “How do you think they would get the fire?”
“Uh… well… I’m inclined to lean toward high school chemistry classes. Maybe some kind of gas?” She shrugs. “Flammable gas, and some kind of flint system, maybe. They just need a spark.”
I drive the car slowly along the road that leads back toward town, and glimpse at Lyss in the back, watch her process Brooke’s words.
“Okay. Gas. Makes sense.”
“Cool. Glad I could help.”
Before Brooke can turn back to the front, Lyss is ready with the next question. “Miss Brooke?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you make wishes?”
“Like, on a star?”
Lyss shrugs.
“Well, I guess that’s one way. Sometimes when you sit outside in the dark, you can watch the sky for shooting stars. When they shoot, you make a wish.”
“What are shooting stars made of?”
Brooke laughs. “Gases, I think. Also, you can make wishes on your birthday.”
“Really? How?”
“Like when you have a birthday cake. Does your dad light candles on your cake?”
Lyss nods. “Uh huh. I get seven candles at my next birthday.”
“Exactly. So at your next birthday, just before you blow the candles out, you close your eyes, think of your wish, and then blow them out.”
“I tell you my wish?”
“No. You don’t tell anyone, otherwise it might not come true.”
“But if I don’t tell you, then how will you know how to make it true?”
Chest bouncing with laughter, Brooke turns back to the front and runs a hand through her hair. “It’s magic, Lyss. Wishes are magic.”
“Can we make a wish on a star tonight?”
“Sure. If you see a shooting star, make a wish. Do it really quick, then don’t tell anyone, otherwise you might jinx it.”
“Okay…”
The car turns silent for a moment as we hit Main Street, and the traffic picks up a little. As in, there are five cars instead of none.
“Hey, Miss Brooke?”
“Yeah?”
“Turn around so you can hear me.”
“I can’t, baby. It makes me feel sick.”
My eyes snap to her now that she’s vocalized what I wasn’t sure I could hear in her voice.
“But you can speak,” she continues as her eyes flutter closed. “I can hear you still.”
“Did you know ‘
tum’ rhymes with ‘gum’?”
Brooke frowns. Opens her eyes. Then closes them again. “Uh huh.”
“And rum. And slum. And drum.”
“And bum.”
That elicits a brand-new round of laughter as I pull into the parking spaces out the front of Franky’s diner.
“Be back in a sec. Lyss, you wanna come with Daddy?”
“I wanna stay with Miss Brooke.”
I look to Brooke, and though her eyes are closed, she still nods. “I got her. I won’t move a single inch away. Promise.”
“Are you feeling okay?” I unfasten my belt and lean into her space. “You’re a little green.”
“I shouldn’t turn to the back while you’re driving around bends. I knew that already. Rookie mistake.”
“You get carsick?” A million memories flash through my mind. The trips with Lyss. The vomit every-damn-where. It’s like a post-traumatic stress thing that makes my heart race.
“Only when I’m facing the wrong way. It’s okay. It’ll pass in a sec.”
I place my hand on her jaw, and grin when her eyes snap open. Then I press my lips against hers, and groan when she dives in with a sigh. Her eyes slam shut, her hand grips my shirt, but her lips, they remain passive, they let me nip and nibble.
“Feel better.” Another kiss. “Back in a sec.”
I push out of the car with a wink for Lyss, and race into the diner I already called my order into. Katrina, the waitress, stands behind a small counter, with a black apron tied around her hips, and a red scarf holding her hair back. As soon as she sees me, she grins and turns to the kitchen.
She knows me here, because this is where Ben, Evie, and Mac bring me when we’re not eating at the gym. I suppose I should have known better than to expect to get in and out without drama, but of course, my life doesn’t work out that way.
“Is it just me,” Evie Kincaid’s voice taunts, teases, and picks at me from a booth by the window, “or is that my sweet cousin in the front seat of Iowa’s car?”
“Pretty sure I just saw him kiss her,” Lucy piles on. “Brookey’s got herself a boyfriend, and nobody told us.”
I turn to the booth with an air of resignation. I’ve kept my mouth shut every minute that I spend in the gym, but it’s not like the fact Brooke and I hang out is a secret. The estate keeps no secrets, and the gossip fluidly rolls into the gym. But because I’ve kept my mouth shut, none of the four people in the booth have brought it up.
But then I had to go and kiss Brooke in front of them.
“Hey, Iowa.” Evie sits beside Ben, snuggled up under his arm, while Lucy mirrors her and snuggles into Mac. “You look awfully dapper for a Saturday afternoon.”
“Thanks.” I meander closer while Katrina works in the kitchen. “I showered.”
“I should hope so.” She lifts her chin toward the window, toward my car as Lyss and Brooke chatter with wide grins and animated hands – Lyss’ hands. “Kincaid women are special,” Evie continues. “We have standards. So if you’re gonna take my girl to the lake with fried chicken, then I’d hope you showered at the very least.”
“You knew about the lake? The chicken?”
She grins.
“Which means you’re not here by accident. You planted yourself in this diner knowing I’d be by.”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Ass.”
She bursts out laughing. “Sticks and stones. You got the hots for my cousin? She’s pretty cool, right?”
I nod. “She’s pretty cool. She’s nothing like you guys; you’re in the gym every damn day, tearing me apart and telling me to work harder. She’s a dreamier type. Softly spoken.”
“She’s only softly spoken when she wants to be. Hurt someone she cares about, and she’s gonna tie her hair back and mop the floor with you.”
I chuckle and stop by the table. I have a minute to worry that Mac and Ben might take issue with me asking Brooke out, but I get no attitude from them. Just a chin tilt from Ben, and a fist from Mac that I tap.
“She’s got sass,” I admit. “She’s got a mean streak if I piss her off. I already know this.”
“Just as long as you don’t forget,” Evie agrees. “You kiss her often?”
I smile. “Not as often as I’d like.”
“She likes to hug.” She looks out the window. The glass is the reflective kind, so while we can see out, all Brooke would be able to see are tinted windows and herself reflected back. “Brooke grew up with Bobby Kincaid as her dad, which means she’s partial to hugs. The big kind, where you wrap her up and make her feel tiny and warm. She likes those.”
“Okay…”
I turn when Katrina leaves the kitchen, then look back to Evie. “Thanks for the tip. And the blessing, I suppose.”
“It’s my blessing,” she nods. “I hang out with you five days a week. I like you. Which means you have my blessing to date my cousin. But also, Stacked Deck is not far away. Don’t slack off now. This might be the most important one yet.”
“I won’t slack, promise.”
And this is where I remember who my boss is. Who pays my bills and keeps a roof over my head.
Evie and the others are my friends, so much so that I could easily imagine us hanging out on the weekends, shooting the shit, and eating bad food while we play cards. But still, it would be stupid of me to forget who pays my salary.
I back up when Katrina sets a bag on the little counter and then keys my order into the cash register.
“I’m in the yard seven days a week,” I assure Evie. “I swear. I’ve got this, and since Mac’s out, I don’t even have to feel guilty about it anymore. I won’t let you guys down.”
“Reconsider the camp too,” Mac adds. “You’ll be missing a lot if you don’t come.”
“I’m sorry.” I continue backing up, and take my wallet from my back pocket as I go. “I can’t leave my daughter. There is literally nothing you could say or offer that would change my mind, except permission for her to come.”
“It’s not that she’s not allowed to come,” Lucy says. “It’s just that the situation isn’t safe or entertaining for a child. You wouldn’t be able to concentrate or get value from the trip, because you’ll be worried about her the whole time.”
“If I leave her here, I still wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Which means the answer is still no. I’m sorry.” I slide cash out of my wallet and hand enough to Katrina to pay for a literal bucket-sized container of chicken, then I toss more into the tip jar.
She smiles for me, winks, and waves as I make my way to the door.
“Catch you guys in the morning,” I say in farewell.
“I won’t even slam you with extra burpees if you’re late,” Evie tosses out before I exit.
I stop at the door and look to her with a frown.
“Ya know, if you get distracted tonight or whatever, and need a couple extra hours of sleep to catch up.”
I roll my eyes and pull the door open. “I have a daughter to shield from your kind of nasty, Kincaid. This requires delicacy, subtlety…”
“A white noise machine,” she inserts. “I was three when my mom and dad started dating. Trust me, you need to buy that girl a white noise machine.”
Lucy buries her face and breaks into girly giggles that contradict the hardened fighter she is when in the gym. Ben remains silent, but his lips twitch as he shakes his head. And Mac simply chortles like a fat, old man.
“Noted.”
“And don’t worry about delicacy. She’s a fighter at heart. And she knows the Jitz. Go crazy. She’ll love it.”
“I’m done.” I push out of the door and hunch my shoulders at the barrage of laughter that hits my back as I leave.
The girls in the car, also laughing, bring their eyes to me as I come back to my side and pull the door open.
I flash a middle finger to the exact section of the window I know the guys are sitting in inside, then slide into the car and pass the bag of chicken to Brooke. “I w
asn’t too long, was I?”
“Nope. Just a couple minutes,” she answers as I peek at Lyss in my mirror. “We were discussing the validity of fairies and elves. She says fake, I say plausible.”
“I learned what plausible means, Daddy.”
And there it is. My baby girl breaks the tension I might have brought with me from inside the diner. Not because I’m offended by anything Evie said, but because she gave me permission to attack her cousin in the most pleasurable ways.
Go crazy, she said. Brooke will like it.
“Hey?” Brooke taps her polished fingers against my thigh and waits for me to focus. “You okay? I can feel your mood. It’s gone all whack since you left us.”
“I’m fine.” I smile for her, exhale, and pray the blood filling my cock leaves again before we arrive at the lake. Then I switch the engine on and slide the gear into reverse. “Your cousins were inside the diner.”
“Yeah? Which ones? I have a million.”
“Evie and Lucy.”
“Oh, Smalls and Bean.” She laughs and sets the food on the floor between her legs so the heat doesn’t burn her lap. “Were they teasing you?”
“Yeah. They saw me kiss you. Evie’s…”
“Loud?” she supplies. “Obnoxious. Filthy. Annoyingly endearing. A great fighter that deserves a smack on the chin every now and then.” She looks to me. “Am I close?”
“All of the above?” I laugh and slow at the next corner. “I love training with her. I swear I do, because she’s amazing at it, and where she lacks, Ben or Mac or Lucy pick up and fill out a rounded training team. Ben makes it so I have someone to spar that’s bigger than me. Mac gives me someone my own size to train with. Lucy teaches me things that I had no clue existed, and she’s not a crybaby about it. But Evie…”
“She’s technically pretty effing amazing?”
I nod. “I’m awed, to be honest. I think I’m still in shock. I turn up there five days a week, I train, and since my hours are shorter than they should be, I train extra hard. I give them my best, then I get to see my baby, come home, read books and work out some more. A year ago, my life was…” I blow out a heavy breath. “It was different. And part of me thinks I’m still in a new baby sleep fog, and all of this will be a lie.”