The Mrs. Z issue wasn’t the only subject in Laney’s knowing look. If I couldn’t embrace the conflict between me and a fellow teacher and weather the fallout, how would I handle not just the town learning I was seeing Liam, but the rest of the Barrons?
Chapter 16
Liam
* * *
I arrived in Coal Haven earlier than planned. I turned off the highway and wound through town until I stopped in front of Kenny’s house. She was going with me to meet with Hattie, not because I was nervous or because I needed a wingman, but because she was as excited as I was. It was nice to have someone to share this with.
I trotted to the door and knocked.
She opened it, her smile radiant and her hair thrown up in the loose bun that had its own personality. What would it be like to come home to this every day? Longing plugged my chest, threatening the strength of the return smile I was flashing her.
I was getting ahead of myself. We were a new couple with a lot of baggage. Only one other person knew about us. I hadn’t told Grandma Gin, but I wanted Kenny to get comfortable with others knowing. I wasn’t in a rush. That she had told Laney meant a lot.
She stood back to let me in. I stepped in, and when she shut the door behind me, I pulled her to me. Her eyes heated, and fuck, I wanted her to look at me like that forever.
That longing came back. I dropped my head and captured her mouth. She twined her arms around my neck. We made out until it was uncomfortable for me to bend. A perfect impression of my zipper was now in my dick. I straightened but kept her in my arms.
“I missed you,” she murmured.
“What a coincidence. I missed you.” I went to war with my zipper again as I bent and rubbed my palms over the globes of her ass. That didn’t help the pressure in my jeans. “Phone sex is nothing like holding you for real. And I don’t have to worry that a roommate will hear me ask you to cup a boob when you rub your clit.”
Desire flared in her eyes, but she giggled. “I love how you make me laugh.”
And I love you. I swallowed the words back. It was the first time I’d allowed myself to think about our relationship like that, but it had to be too soon for her. “I’m good for that.”
She tipped her head back. “You’re good for a lot of things, Liam, in a lot of ways.”
Those expressive brown eyes stripped away all the identities other people layered over me. I wasn’t illegitimate with her. I wasn’t just a single dad. I wasn’t some wild teenage kid that had been written off as an adult before I’d been old enough to drink. I was just Liam. A guy who fell hard for this special girl.
The emotion was overwhelming, and if I didn’t do something, I’d say something stupid. “We don’t have to meet Hattie for a half an hour.”
The drive would take three minutes. I could do a lot in twenty-seven minutes.
She kissed the side of my neck. A shiver traced down my spine, and she kept at it. Licking my skin, she rimmed her hands along my waistband and untucked my shirt.
We stood in the middle of the kitchen floor; I was helpless to move. Her lips and her hands rooted me in place.
Then she kneeled.
I swallowed roughly, my mind reeling, stunned at what she was doing.
I knew what she was doing. But I couldn’t believe it. “Kenny?”
“Can I do this? For you?” Stark vulnerability darkened her brown eyes.
I nodded, numb, except for the thick desire making my skin tight. I was a guy. I liked blow jobs. I never expected them. Never sought them out. If they happened, they happened. It was the last thing I’d expected today or anywhere in the near future.
I couldn’t hold her while she was kneeling, but I had to touch her. I unhooked the band from the tangle of hair on top of her head and stuffed my hands through the silky strands. She gazed up at me as she unzipped my pants and pulled me out, her hand cool on my searing hot erection.
Just her touch was enough to threaten my balance. She gave me a firm pump.
I braced my legs and dug for my wallet. “Do you want me to put a condom on?”
Those puffy lips turned down. “I haven’t…” Right. She’d never given head over latex. I was about to assure her that she could abort mission. I had no issues getting her off instead, but her hold on me tightened and obliterated coherent thought. “You’re clean, right?”
“I got tested after I realized what a liar Payton was. I’ve always used protection since.” Even if the girl hadn’t minded, I had insisted; it didn’t matter what we were doing.
“Then you don’t mind?”
My breath whooshed out. “Fuck, no. Kenny, you could just stare at it for a few minutes and I’d probably explode.”
My balls were tight, and my cock strained for the woman in front of it. Like sheer will and perseverance would help it grow an extra few inches to get to her mouth.
She didn’t put her lips on me right away. She explored. She ran her thumbs along the veins of the shaft. Cradled my balls, gave them a squeeze. I stood like a redwood. Tall, erect, and not to be moved until my time was up.
When her lips brushed the tip, I groaned. “Woman, you’re killing me.”
“Sorry.”
I cupped her chin and ignored my obnoxious cock in her face. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re killing me in the best way. I’m at your mercy.”
“I’ve been thinking about this.”
She’d been having wicked thoughts? Of me? I’d been daydreaming of holding her, kissing her, someday having people know that this magnificent woman had given me a chance.
“Show me what you’ve been thinking about.” It came out as a growl, but I was ready to beg.
Her eyelids drifted shut, and she sucked me in. A small hum traveled along every inch of my erection and sparked up my spine.
Her hot tongue was hesitant but grew bolder, and her fingers dug into my thighs as she pulled back and then pushed forward. I died a small death every time she took me into the sweltering depths of her mouth. The tug of her suction. The way her cheeks hollowed. Dark lashes sweeping down with her eyes closed.
It was just the two of us. Fully dressed except for my dick in her mouth. But it was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. This would keep me up at night. This would make every night I spent alone in my tiny rented bedroom on a borrowed twin mattress feel like eternity had come and gone and left me behind.
I didn’t want to be by myself anymore. I wanted to come home to my kids and Kenny. I wanted to come home to this. Not blow jobs specifically. I wanted to come home and talk, tell each other our problems, and then help each other demolish the stress of everyday life.
I clenched my glutes to keep myself from swaying. She pumped my base as she laved the tip.
“Fuck, Kenny.” It was getting harder not to move.
I clenched my fingers over her scalp but didn’t dig in. I held myself still. The last thing I wanted to do was stab her throat and choke her.
She worked me until I was shaking. My hands were rock steady in her hair and my feet planted firmly in one spot. The rest of me was a quaking mess. Because one woman had my cock in her mouth.
“I can’t—I’ve gotta—” I tried to warn her, but she hummed. Hummed dammit.
I couldn’t withstand the onslaught of ecstasy. I came, long and hard. And she took me. Humming. Holding me. I was putty, molded perfectly into her grip.
I sagged, and she released me. Cool air wafted over my damp skin. I wouldn’t be surprised if steam rose from where she’d had her mouth. She was about to get up.
“Stay down there. It’s your turn.”
Desire flared in her eyes, but she sat back. “You don’t have to.”
“We have time.” I’d make sure of it.
I stuffed myself into my pants, to hell with the zipper, and kneeled. I crawled over her, forcing her back. I kept going until her back hit the floor and I covered her.
I caught her lips with mine. She was hesitant to open, as if she worried the taste o
f me would be revolting. It turned on the caveman in my brain. That was me, and she was mine.
Mine.
And someday, maybe I would be hers.
Kennedy
* * *
Hattie took us on a tour around the showroom. I’d never been to Haven Furnishings. Derek would cross his parents when it came to people in his life, but he’d balanced it by staying on their good side when it came to business. Barrons were forbidden from doing business with Hattie Garcia, thanks to Cameron. No one wanted Thanksgiving with a pissy Cameron. I’d been through one and could understand why.
Hattie ran her hand over elegant sitting room chairs. “These pieces are from a supplier in Glendive. She handcrafts the wood she uses for the frame and partners with a woman from Ethiopia for the fabric and designs. Her stuff is considered high end. I’m lucky to get pieces from her.” Hattie paused, shooting each of us a grin. “I can mark them up like no one’s business. It’s a good profit margin—for all of us.”
She paused at each section she’d created in the floor plan and told us about the designer, the builder, and how she’d met them. Her chin-length salt-and-pepper hair swung, and when she smiled, the right side of her face lifted higher, that eye squinting more. She also tilted her head, as if trying to even out the sides. A tic from childhood, perhaps, when a brash adult or unthinking kid had made a comment on the asymmetry of her features.
Bracelets on her wrist clattered together as she swept her arm out to tell us about a couch and loveseat set. The bracelets probably had a story too, and if Hattie were telling it, I wanted to hear it.
“These are factory built but are still quality construction with a simple design. I supply across the board. If someone in Coal Haven needs to outfit their bedroom, they can come here for a nice, boring headboard and dresser set. Or they can choose a handcrafted headboard.” She waved for us to follow her. “Like this one here.”
We reached a bed with a gorgeously simple headboard. Planks of wood were stacked on each other, much like shiplap, and each plank was a different shade of wood grain. From light gray to a rich cherrywood.
“That’s beautiful.” I ran my hand along the headboard. It looked rough, like I should pick up no less than five slivers, like someone had found these planks in the trees and hammered them together. Only smooth, cool wood ran under my hand.
“I get these from a man in Fort Berthold. He and his grandson do this as a side gig; it makes the pieces seem rare to the buyers. The guys have no interest in dealing with packing and shipping and sales. So I do that—arrange pickup and delivery—and we’ve gotten buyers all over the nation.” She bobbed her head. “I think that’s what your work can do, Liam. I think you’re good enough to attract people from all over the country. I’d say internationally too, but I haven’t wanted to deal with the increased cost and time.” She let out a contented sigh. “I have enough work to keep me busy.”
Despite Cameron and Naomi Barron. My hopes continued to soar. This would be so good for Liam.
He squatted down to get a closer look at an end table that matched the headboard. “This place is really something, Hattie.”
She nodded like it was a simple fact, but she beamed. “Come here.” She took us through the living room section to a corner that had an eclectic home decor vibe. Less staged and more displayed. “This is where I’d put your pieces.” She spread out her hands to encompass most of the corner. “Locals can come in and shop, but I have a room in the back where I can keep props for photo shoots. I’ll still put your work online.”
I pictured the firepit and the chain-link cross that Liam had made on display. It wouldn’t take much to add to their appeal. A few cute chairs. A couple of skewers for marshmallows and hot dogs. I’d want a firepit after I’d seen that display too.
They chatted about a few pieces that Liam had on hand and his ideas for the rest of the tractor seats that I’d found in my garage. She wanted a firepit, two preferably, with different designs than what he’d made for Charlotte.
Liam pushed a hand through his hair. “My grandpa had a lot of collections. Old bikes. Record players. I still have them. I’ve got some ideas.”
Warmth spread through me. He hadn’t wanted to touch his grandpa’s junk, but then he hadn’t thought any of it was junk. He couldn’t throw it out, but changing it and selling it to take care of Grandma Gin was exactly something Liam would do. He was one of a kind.
And he was mine.
Hattie’s gaze lit up. “Anything for the gardens or outside sells better in the spring and summer, so get me those first.”
I wandered around while Liam and Hattie talked shop and contracts. The information was interesting, but the store was full of eye candy. A treasure in our small town.
When they were done, Liam wore the same smile his kids did when we told them we were going fishing or to the lake. My body warmed, and I was tempted to throw myself at him for a big hug. He was happy with himself, and I didn’t get to see that expression on him nearly enough.
I’d congratulate him later. We could lie in bed and talk about his projects and the store until he had to get home.
Or tomorrow, after we wore the kids out at the parade and the lake, then lit fireworks. It didn’t get dark enough for fireworks until after ten. Closer to eleven was better. So, we’d concluded it was better for me to sleep over. A legitimate excuse to tell the boys.
I couldn’t wait for tomorrow—or tomorrow night.
“Ready?” Liam held a few papers. The contracts. He was a contracted artist.
Never mind stealing him for myself. This was too momentous to keep to ourselves. “We need to celebrate. How about I treat for pizza this time? Tell Grandma Gin she’s welcome too.”
His grin widened, and he held the door open for me. I stepped out and blinked in the sun, wishing I had my sunglasses.
“Kennedy?”
I stiffened and spun. The man I faced was an older version of Liam, his expression nowhere near as friendly. Cameron Barron, in his standard black suit with cowboy boots. It was his schtick. A big oil guy who was still a small-town rancher. His graying hair was combed to the side, and the lines on his face only added to the aura of power he carried.
Bruce came to a stop next to Cameron. The perfect damper to my jubilant mood.
Liam stepped out. “I’ll message—” He ground to a stop next to me.
I kept my smile as sunny as the sky. I was an adult, and I was out with a friend. I was not some kid busted with a forbidden boyfriend. “Hi, Bruce. Cameron. How are you?”
Bruce’s scowl etched into his face until he looked twenty years older. Seeing me with Liam wasn’t as much of a shock to him. “Good. Say, did Deano get a hold of you?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t getting into my finances around Cameron. Or had Bruce already talked to him? I was tempted to cower, but I cleared my throat and forced the words out of my mouth. “I told him that everything was fine as it was. Thank you for the offer, though.”
Bruce frowned, his brow furrowing so deeply I could hide in the creases, but he didn’t say anything. Damn, that shouldn’t have been so hard. I’d wait to ask for the keys back when Cameron wasn’t around.
A spear of fear shot down my spine. I’d have to do that soon. I couldn’t risk Bruce walking in on what I’d been doing on my kitchen floor this afternoon.
Cameron’s shrewd, glittering gaze danced between Liam, me, and the store. We were in front of the large picture windows emblazoned with “Haven Furnishings.” His mouth twisted like Liam had shoved a lemon wedge between the man’s lips. “William.”
Liam’s jolt was subtle. He’d probably rather be ignored. The men hopefully didn’t notice. “Cameron,” he replied flatly.
“Is it true you’re staying in town?”
“Yes.”
Bruce tugged his gaze off me. “You’re not letting Ginny sell the place and get the money she’s owed from it?”
“Yes, Bruce. That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Liam’s reply dr
ipped sarcasm. “If you’d like to keep leasing the land, I’ll be in touch with a new contract that’ll address who’s responsible for the property and how it’ll affect the rent.”
Bruce sucked in a breath, and Cameron’s gaze glinted. I could practically see the plotting begin. If we stuck around, it’d be these two ganging up on Liam and using me as a tool to get to him.
I wasn’t giving them that power. I peeked at my phone. “Oh, look at the time. We need to get going. Tell Willow and Naomi I said hi.”
I edged around them. Liam gave them a nod, his eyes hooded. If he’d worn his ball cap, his expression would’ve been shadowed. Without the cap, the simmering resentment was harder to hide. And the resemblance to his father was clearer than ever.
We couldn’t just cross the street or hop in a vehicle and close the doors between us and them. The lunch crowd for the diner had extended to this block, and we hadn’t been able to park right in front of the store. Liam’s pickup was parked several spots down. We hadn’t thought twice about it. Until now.
Bruce pivoted like a sunflower following the sun as I walked around him. “Kennedy.”
“Hmm?” I kept my expression casual despite the tension vibrating among the four of us.
“You need anything, you call.”
I waved him off. “I’m doing good, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
Finally, Liam and I had created enough distance that the knot between my shoulders loosened. When I was closed in the pickup with Liam, surrounded by his soap and cedar scent, I rolled my head to stretch my neck.
Liam’s jaw was clenched, the little muscles on the side flexing. How badly had that brief interaction rattled him? I hadn’t talked to him about Mrs. Z yet; right now, that felt like dumping salt on a gaping wound.
Make Me Whole: Oil Barrons, Book 1 Page 19