Presley
“So, you’re replacing me?”
Ryan’s bitter tone comes through the speaker of my cell as I draw a perfectly winged eyeliner stroke across my lid.
“Shut up, I’m not doing anything of the sort. Plus, you could never be replaced. Who would retrieve all of my passwords when I lock myself out of websites?” I chuckle.
“You’re technologically hopeless, but I still love you. So what’s the deal with these chicks? And when are you coming back to the city?”
I bite my thumbnail, anxiety racketing through me, and thank God Ryan can’t see it. Because I wasn’t sure I was ever coming back to the city. I’d only spent two months in Fawn Hill, and one of those had been without knowing anyone but Grandma. Now that I had a life here—a job, my yoga class, blossoming friendships and a man I was dating—I honestly couldn’t imagine leaving. In the city I’d had nothing but misery, one-night stands and the craziness of twenty-four hour noise in my brain. I would have never expected it, but Fawn Hill was quickly becoming a place I could see myself staying for a very long time to come.
“The chicks are Lily and Penelope, and I met them when I started teaching my yoga class. Lily is in charge over at the library, and Penelope has three kids even though she’s our age. They’re really nice and want to take me out for a girl’s night. But you know you’re still my best friend. We’ve been through too much shit together for me to ever cut you lose … you might spill my dirty little secrets.”
I choose to ignore the second half of her question. Not that I’ve told this to anyone yet, but I’ve pretty much decided to stay where I am for the foreseeable future.
“Pinky promise I’ll take them to the grave. I have to go. This guy I met on Tinder is taking me to an escape room.”
“You’re going to an escape room with a guy you just met? Don’t families get destroyed in those things? Isn’t there a lot of yelling and working together?”
Ryan snorts. “Exactly. It’ll be the ultimate test if we would be good together. And if we can’t escape, then he definitely isn’t coming back to my room.”
Her absurd logic has me giggling long after we’ve hung up.
I swipe some red lipstick across my lips, pucker in the mirror, and run a hand down my navy blue sundress. I’m excited for this girl’s night. When Penelope suggested she get a babysitter and drink Lily and I under the table at the Goat & Barrister, the only bar in Fawn Hill, I was all for it. My nights and days had been spent with Keaton and Grandma and having a little girl gossip would be fun.
My phone blinked nine o’clock as I got behind the wheel of Grandma’s car. I still didn’t have one, and she was fast asleep so she wouldn’t miss it. I sent one last text to Keaton before I drove over to meet the girls.
Me: Hope you’re having a fun night on the couch.
I snapped a selfie, making sure to highlight the V-neck of my dress, and sent it.
Keaton: You look incredible. Have fun, be safe. If you need a ride home, call me.
While I was happy to have some time with new friends, part of me wished I was sitting on that couch with him. Keaton’s house was so cozy and having a place where we could be alone was a novel concept for me. Even though I was nearing thirty, I’d never had a place of my own, detached from other apartments or devoid of roommates. Spending time with Keaton made me feel more grown-up.
Parking is located behind the bar, and when I walk into the Goat & Barrister, Lily and Penelope are already seated atop barstools. The place is part British pub, part Pennsylvania dive bar, and I appreciate the charm.
“Hi ladies.” I sidle up next to them, putting my purse on the bar and climbing onto the stool next to Lily, who now sits in the middle.
“Hey, girl, thanks for coming out.” She smiles.
Penelope holds up her drink. “Catch up. Mama has a babysitter for another hour and a half and then this princess turns into a pumpkin.”
Her sarcasm makes me laugh. “I have zero idea how you manage it. I can barely take care of myself, let alone three kids.”
“TV and chicken nuggets, the secret to parenting.” She downs the glass of wine in her hand.
The bartender, a surly old man in a flannel shirt, even though it’s July, comes by to take my drink order. I ask for my usual, a nice, dry glass of white, with an ice cube. He obliges, and sets it down in front of me in exchange for my credit card to start a tab.
If I’d asked for an ice cube in my wine back in New York, some hipster bartender would have rolled his eyes at me. But here, I just get my drink, no side of judgment.
“I think that might be the secret to single life, too, because I do that often.” Lily giggles, taking a sip of her light beer.
“Amen, sister. Although give me a pint of ice cream any day.”
“You’re not single, get the hell out of here. You’ve got the oldest Nash wrapped around your finger,” Penelope scoffs.
I smile, unable to hide my happiness. “I don’t know about that, but …”
“He did yoga for you.” Lily raises an eyebrow.
“Speaking of the Nash men …” Penelope’s eyes swing across the bar to a table near the dart board.
Three men sit there, all with varying looks of Nash genes. Of course I saw them all at the Summer Kickoff Carnival, but not up close and not for very long.
One gets up from the table, his swagger echoing across the room.
This is the brother Keaton left to go help the other night, I’d put money on it. He’s younger than Keaton, and me by about three or four years from the look of him. Charm oozes from every pore, and he’s more of a pretty boy than his brother; more muscular, almost as tall, but his hair is darker and his eyes are a sea glass blue that makes me think of the trip when my parents brought us to the ocean in Florida.
I can see how this young hotshot is the life of the party. The megawatt smile, the way he leans into women all over this bar. But you can see the gait in his walk, like he’s on his sixth beer when everyone else is on their first. I can see the bags under his eyes and how he keeps taking shot after shot, as if the alcohol won’t puncture his veins until he’s at the bottom of the bottle.
And all at once, worry swamps me. I may not have directly dealt with an addict, but I’ve had friends and colleagues who have. I know how hard it can be to love someone with the disease, and how difficult it is to support but scold them all at the same time.
Keaton is the head of his family, and the anger that washed over his face at the water tower the other day makes sense. This has been going on for a long time, if I’m correct in observing his brother.
“Presley! Hey, you’re the one banging my brother.” His brother spots me and starts to make his way over.
Instantly, my face heats at his assessment of me.
Lily rolls her eyes and Penelope holds up a hand to stop him from getting too close. “Fletcher, go sleep it off. You’re drunk, just like you are every time I see you. If Keaton heard you shooting your mouth off like that, he’d shut it for you.”
Fletcher, now I remember his name, has the decency to look guilty. “Sorry, Presley. I just get excited that Keat is finally dating someone. He’s just the best, my brother, you know?”
He’s like one of those drunk college girls praising everyone when they’re hammered. I should know, I was one.
But I’ll take it. “He is. Nice to see you again.”
“But tonight, he’s lame. Didn’t want to come out with us … said he didn’t want to intrude on your girl’s night. You should call him up, tell him to get his ass down here.”
As soon as he suggests it, the other two Nash brothers make their way over. I recognize Bowen, Lily’s ex, the brooding one with ghosts always in his eyes. He takes one look at her and falters. Then there is Forrest, Fletcher’s twin, who came to my yoga class and talked the whole way through it.
“Good to see you both again.” I smile at them, feeling weird because I’m technically dating their brother but we’ve never spent
time together.
Especially without said brother.
“Hey, good to see you, Presley.” Forrest nods. “I’m sore as hell, by the way. I have a feeling yoga isn’t my thing.”
“Yeah, considering you talked the entire time.” Penelope smirks.
Laughter bubbles in my throat. “Yeah, maybe it isn’t exactly your thing, but I appreciate you attending with Keaton.”
“Got him wrapped around your finger already, huh?” Fletcher grins.
“He is pretty smitten.” Forrest chuckles.
“Way to make me blush, guys.” I take a sip of my wine to disguise my awkwardness.
It’s the last in my glass, I’m surprised to find, and I flag down the bartender for another.
“They’re just letting you know that he’s happy, and we’re happy for him.” Bowen’s gruff voice holds no happiness, but I know he means it.
His eyes keep straying to Lily, who looks like she is trying to melt into her barstool. You can cut the tension between these two with a spoon, and I feel so bad for them that my heart actually aches.
“I’m going to uh … I’ll be right back.” Lily bolts, her strappy, summer sandals clacking as she hightails it across the bar and away from the man who broke her heart.
A stream of anxious breath whooshes out of Bowen, and Forrest claps him on the back.
“So, your brother didn’t want to crash my party?” The thought is a little funny.
Keaton is starting to understand me. If he’d shown up here with his brothers, the place I’d told him I was going for a girls night, I probably would have been pissed. But while I’m glad he’s given me my space, I also kind of want him here. We haven’t done the group hang thing, and with all of the Nash men here, who look so much alike, it makes me want to see his face.
So I whip out my phone to text him. After I shoot off the message, I see Bowen’s phone ding.
“Damn, you really did summon his ass. He told me he’ll be here in two. Asshole was probably waiting around to be invited.”
Forrest and Fletcher laugh at Bowen’s mocking of their brother, but I’m too busy trying to calm my fluttering heart.
It seems to happen every time I know I am about to see Keaton. My whole system goes haywire, and I can’t keep my hands still. Even now, the anticipatory tremor that moves through me feels like an electric current that could only be channeled when he walked into this bar.
“So much for girl’s night,” Penelope mumbles.
Forrest sidles up to her. “Fuck girl’s night. I can do you one better.”
She almost spits her drink out. “Forrest Nash, you’re a boy. I’m a grown woman with children and a mortgage. In your dreams. Plus, I saw you get pantsed in elementary school, or did you forget that?”
The group cracks up at her scathing rejection, and Forrest pretends to have been shot.
But all the air leaves the room, at least for me, when he walks in. Maybe it’s the two glasses of wine I’ve had, or that we’ve been talking about him for the last fifteen minutes and it’s made me antsy. But as soon as Keaton’s eyes meet mine, I don’t want to be here at all.
I want to be alone with him, undressed, learning all of the things he can do with those capable hands.
“Hey,” he breathes, coming directly toward me.
His hands go around my waist as he presses his lips to mine, in front of everyone. The worry about PDA goes right out the window though, when my mouth registers his warm one bearing down on it. I’m lost, my brain fuzzing over with desire.
There is a turning point in every relationship, that moment you know you’re going to have sex. It’s not a flowery way of putting it, but you know the minute you want to fuck someone, that the animal attraction is so strong you can’t be satisfied with foreplay and anticipation anymore.
Tonight is that moment.
22
Keaton
“No fucking in the bar!”
Fletcher’s annoying fucking voice interrupts my tongue from entering Presley’s mouth, and when I pull back, I’m mesmerized by the desire-filled green pools swimming before me.
“Nice to see you, big bro.” He claps a hand over my shoulder, hard.
Turning, I watch as he sways in front of me. He’s wasted, and I’m both pissed at my other brothers and surprised Gerry hasn’t thrown him out of here yet.
“You should get him home.” My disdain is made clear to Forrest.
I don’t want to deal with Fletch tonight. For one, I wasn’t even supposed to come out. I’d been watching the game, waiting for texts from Presley, trying to leave her alone. And for two, now that I was here, the only thing I wanted to do was take my girl home and give her exactly what her eyes were signaling to me.
She was going to let me have all of her tonight, I could feel it in the air.
“Don’t come in here and piss on our party. We were all having a great time. That is, until Lily scurried off like a scared mouse. Big bad wolf Bowen sent her running.” He cackles, and everyone else in the group looks uncomfortable.
Forrest slugs an arm around his twin’s shoulder and steers him away from the bar. “Let’s go get some air.”
Fletcher protests as they walk outside but follows anyway.
“Sorry you had to see that.” I turn back to Presley. “I hope he wasn’t too obnoxious.”
She shrugs, smiling. “All is forgotten. I’m just glad you came down here. Thank you for giving me my space, though.”
“Oh, get on with it, already. We got her for two drinks, now you can take her to bone town.” Penelope rolls her eyes. “At least one of us should be getting laid around here.”
Bowen chuckles. “Get out of here, man. Plus, you don’t want Gerry seeing you.”
Presley looks up quizzically at me, but it’s too late.
“Thought I told you not to come back in here.” The gruff harrumph of a voice is directed at me.
“Actually, you told my brother that.” I purposely hug Presley tighter to me, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the old man behind the bar.
“And yet, I’ve seen that drunk in here tonight.” His glare could fry eggs. “And who is this?”
Suddenly, I don’t want to tell him who Presley is. Even if he thinks his daughter did me a favor by leaving, I don’t want the shit that’s going to come with Gerry knowing my business.
“We were just leaving.” I grab Presley’s hand and nearly pull her off the barstool.
“Hey!” She swats at me until we get outside and I release her.
Being forceful with a woman is very unlike me, but the fight-or-flight instinct went off like an alarm bell in my head and I panicked.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She rubs her hand, which I probably bruised.
“I’m sorry, here let me see …” I take it in mine, gently, and rub the skin there.
“Jeez, Keaton, you looked like you’d seen a ghost back there.” Presley palms my cheek.
I hang my head, disappointed in myself. I’d ruined our night in three seconds flat. She’d been having a good time, I was prepared to have a fun night with my brothers and the girls, and I’d turned it all to shit.
“Because I had. That was my ex-girlfriend’s father … Gerry, he owns the bar. It’s why I don’t go there if I can help it.”
She nods, not letting go of my cheek. “We all have baggage, Keaton.”
I don’t want to talk about my ex or her asshole father, so I make it about something else.
“And then there is Fletcher. Jesus, he’s a mess, Presley. And I can’t seem to fix it.”
“You know, you don’t have to be everyone’s hero. Your brother is an adult … his mistakes, his problems, they don’t have to be yours.”
How I wish it were that simple. If I could just ignore the gorilla of responsibility my father left on my back when he passed …
“I can’t.” My eyes bore into hers, pleading with her to understand.
Presley nods slightly. “Which is why you’re such a
good man. But, Keaton, sometimes I think you’re too worried about taking care of everyone else that you don’t take care of yourself.”
I don’t want to talk about this. She just doesn’t see that if I don’t do these things for my family, for my community, no one else will. I’ve always carried this burden.
So I cease the talk. “You could take care of me.”
Stepping into her space, I don’t give her the chance to respond. I’m done being the hero tonight. I want to take instead of give. I want to feel only pleasure, and I want so desperately to watch those green eyes as she feels hers.
Darkness surrounds us as the languid, hot summer air kisses our skin. My tongue invades her mouth, nothing cautious or searching like our other encounters have been. I’m tired of being the gentleman, of giving her patience and soft romance. I want her in the primal way a man wants a woman, splayed across my bed as I stroke in and out of her body.
“I want to take you home. I want you naked, under me. Please, get in the car.” My voice is gruff, and Presley’s knees wobble as she hightails it to the passenger seat.
Good thing we live in a town with very few traffic lights, and very few people on the roads after nine p.m., because I would have run them all and could have possibly gotten us killed. With one hand on the steering wheel, I’ve been caressing Presley’s cleavage the entire ride while she suctioned her lips to my neck and her hands snuck into my lap.
By the time we make it back to my house, I am so hard that my dick can probably cut Captain America’s shield in half.
Presley rounds the car and almost tackles me before I catch her around the waist. We stand in my driveway in the dark; her straddling my tented jeans, while our mouths take out every last frustration weighing us both down.
I kiss her with the fervor of a man starved and thirsty, like I’ve gotten my first taste of water in years and I won’t stop until I’ve drunk so much, I’m sick. Presley gives me just as much passion back, rubbing herself against my groin as her hands tangle in my hair.
Nash Brothers Box Set Page 10