A Carpino Series Collection, Books 1-3

by Brynne Asher

“You don’t know that,” I throw back with attitude, even though after tonight, I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s right.

  “He wants you,” Cam repeats.

  “He doesn’t,” I insist.

  “You have a dick?” he asks.

  This makes my mouth drop in complete shock. He did not just say that to me.

  “I can’t believe you.” I’m completely stunned by his bluntness. “That does not warrant an answer.”

  “Yeah, he wants you,” Cam drawls, for the third time.

  “What makes you so sure of this fact, Just Cam?”

  “Darlin’,” he starts and lowers his voice, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “I have a dick.”

  I take in an audible breath. I can’t help it, my eyes wander down his body and I feel my face warm with a blush. No, not warm. I feel as if my face is going to combust it’s so hot. Shit. I hate blushing more than anything. It makes me feel stupid and girly. Dammit.

  I look back to the yard and even though I want to hold my beer to my face to cool myself, I can’t without looking like an idiot. Instead, I take another swig and wonder how I can bow out quickly from our time on the patio.

  “Paige,” I hear him say my name for the first time. He calls it sort of soft, not with a drawl, and not pissed. Not even frustrated. When I look over, he’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His beer is dangling from his fingers and his head is tipped to the side with a small smile playing inside his goatee. “I gotta say, darlin’, I like that. I liked it last night, but I like it even better tonight.”

  “What?” I barely hear my own voice, hating that I’m at a loss for words. I mean, I am who I am. I’m never at a loss for words.

  He leans back in his chair without looking away from me. “You know what.”

  “Oh,” I mumble and turn back toward the yard. If I didn’t feel flushed, I think I might faint and I’ve never fainted. I don’t even know what that would feel like.

  I hear a beer bottle hit the table and look over to see Cam getting up. He walks in front of me putting one hand to the back of my chair, entirely invading my space by leaning in close.

  I feel his hand come up to firmly cup my chin and his thumb brushes my bottom lip when he says in a low voice, “You’d better take a shower since you’re worn out from all the cleaning. Thanks for dinner, darlin’. And I’m grateful for my clean kitchen.”

  I can’t help but fidget from his touch and mere closeness. I swear, his eyes narrow as if he caught it, too. I somehow find my words. “No problem.”

  He gives my chin one more squeeze before he stands and yells for his kids. Jordy and Cara come running.

  “What do you say?” he instructs them in a dad voice.

  “Thanks!” Cara yells.

  “Yeah, thanks for the pizza,” Jordy adds.

  I smile back at them. “Bye, Jordy. See you tomorrow, sweet girl.”

  “Bye, sweet Paige!” Cara yells back, making me smile.

  Cam scoops up Ariel and looks back but doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. His look says it all with that grin in his goatee. He turns to follow his kids home while carrying his daughter’s dog that’s named after a mermaid, proving to me he’s not just hot, but hotter being a dad. And he wasn’t once an asshole tonight. I guess he was sort of an ass when he asked me if I had a dick, but it was kind of hot at the same time.

  Oh, my. I think I might need a cold shower.

  Cam

  “Night, punkin’ pie.” I lean down to kiss Cara on the forehead. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too, Daddy.” I turn to leave her room when she calls back to me. “Daddy, what day is it?”

  I sigh, knowing where this is going. “Wednesday, baby.”

  Her little face worries with a frown. “How many more days?”

  “Two ‘til Friday. Your mom has something to do after work, she’ll be here to get you a couple hours later than normal,” I explain.

  “Okay.” Hearing my girl’s sad voice cuts me deep. I’ve had primary custody since she was two and Jordy was four. Cara barely knows her mom, not the way a kid should know their mom. And it cuts me even deeper when they have to leave every other weekend because I can tell they don’t want to go with fucking Bekki.

  “Sleep tight, Cara.”

  “Does that mean I have two more days with Paige?” she asks, avoiding sleep like usual.

  “Yeah. Time for bed.”

  “I like Paige. Maybe she can take care of us all summer,” she pushes.

  “Sorry. Miss Sophia will be back next week. You like her, too.” I try to soften the blow because I can tell my shy girl has opened up to Paige in a huge way. A way I can’t help but like since she doesn’t open up too much of anyone.

  I turn to leave and pull her door shut when I hear, “Daddy!”

  “Cara,” I warn.

  She delays. “The kitchen smells good.”

  I give her a firm warning with my voice. “Caroline.”

  She sighs. “Okay, night-night.”

  “Night,” I call, pulling her door shut.

  I walk across the hall to Jordy’s room and open the door where he quickly hides his game under the covers.

  I walk to him. “Put it away, buddy.”

  “All right.” He pulls it out and sits it on his nightstand.

  “Goodnight.” I rustle his hair, leaning in to kiss his head. “Love you, bud.”

  “Night, Dad. Was Cara asking about mom?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Just wondering. She cries a lot there and mom doesn’t like it when she cries.”

  I stand and frown. “Why does she cry?”

  “I don’t know, who knows what makes her cry. But she cries more there than here.” He shrugs.

  “What does your mom do?” I ask.

  “She tells her not to cry.”

  “That’s it?” The knife cuts deeper because now I have something else to worry about.

  He settles himself in bed. “Yeah.”

  “That’s what you’ve got your phone for. She cries or looks sad, you let her call me. I don’t care what your mother says and I’ll tell her that when she picks you up. But you need to look out for her when you’re there and stick close. I need your help here, bud.”

  “I will.”

  “I want to know what you do there, how your mother is with you two.”

  “Okay,” he agrees.

  “Night, bud. Thanks for telling me.” I lean down to rustle his hair one more time.

  Fucking Bekki. I cringe when I think about having to deal with her and I’m stuck dealing with her for a long-ass time.

  I walk back through the family room to the kitchen. Hitting the fridge, I realize I need to go to the store again and I hate that about as much as I hate doing laundry. Grabbing another beer, I can’t help but think about Paige Carpino as I stand in my clean kitchen. I go outside to sit on the deck and look out to the woods. This is the whole reason I bought this place a year after the divorce. I needed space around me. No one would need space more than me after what I went through with fucking Bekki.

  I sit and take a pull, thinking about Paige giving me shit for drinking light beer, not to mention yesterday when I assumed she had a man giving her the high life. She looks young, but she’s Sophia’s sister, she can’t be that young. I can tell they’re related by their hair and skin tone, but Paige is tiny where her sister is tall and lanky. I’ve done lanky with Bekki. I can’t help that it turns me off now more than anything. But I know what Paige has to offer from when she was wet to the bone with my drink and it was anything but lanky.

  After being around her for the short time I have, I’ve no clue what to expect from her next. One minute she’s throwin’ sass, the next she’s sweet, and the next she’s being a wiseass. When she’s throwin’ her sass she’s fiery, proving she has a backbone. And when she’s a wiseass, she has a glint in her deep brown eyes proving she can one-up you and she likes it. But when she’s sweet, like tonight w
hen I made her flush and she embarrassed herself from checking me out? There was nothing I wanted more than to take her mouth and kiss the flush right off her face. Why that embarrassed her when she’s proved she can throw attitude and sass, I have no idea.

  And don’t even get me started when I see her squirm.

  Fuck me, I think I like it all. More than I should. But she’s too young for me and I’ve got kids to think about.

  I drain my beer and enjoy the quiet of the night for a long time before heading back inside, locking up behind me. I check the rest of the doors and set the alarm. Yanking off my tee, I toss it on the floor of the laundry room while I’m there and head to bed.

  I decide to wash away my day and flip on the shower taps. I think about business at The Shed, my asshole, underage drinking quarterback, Cara being sad, and my ex-fucking-wife. I try my best to focus on all those things, but as I let the hot water run over me, my mind wanders back to the brown-eyed woman sleeping next door.

  I can’t help it. I lean one hand against the wall and wrap the other around my cock. For the first time in a long time, I focus on a specific woman. I choose the wiseass with the glint in her eyes. I can’t help but wonder how her heavy thick hair would feel in my hands, against my skin, or fuck me, across my lap as she works my cock in her mouth.

  And everything about her makes me come faster and harder than usual.

  Chapter Six

  Old Man Flat Butt

  Cam

  I walk up to Sophia and Lanny’s door and knock twice. I’m on time today because no one in my world decided to do anything stupid and get arrested, things are running smooth at The Shed, and I decided to put off talking to fucking Bekki until Friday. I didn’t feel like dealing with her today.

  But I can’t kid myself. Trying to get Paige Carpino out of my head is useless and all day I’ve been wondering what I’ll get from her next. Thinking of her while jacking off in the shower last night didn’t help rid my thoughts. As frustrating as she is, she’s more than interesting. And I haven’t been interested in anyone for a long time.

  The door swings open and I look down to my daughter at the same time another smell assaults me. It’s not lemon, bleach, or vinegar. It’s food and it smells great.

  Cara’s jumping up and down squealing. “We made dinner! And Paige took pictures of it with a big camera. And then someone just came and got the food. And they gave Paige money. But we made extra and we get to eat it!”

  “What?” I bend down and toss her up to catch her in my arms.

  She puts her small hands on my cheeks the way she always does when she wants my undivided attention. “Come and see!”

  I step in the house and fling the door shut. “First I need a kiss.”

  She kisses me as fast as she can and jumps out of my arms to run ahead. I follow slower, smelling the food she must be talking about. When I turn the corner to the kitchen, I see Paige with her back to me at the sink washing a million pots, pans, and all kinds of other shit. I can’t help but let my eyes drag down her body. She’s wearing camouflage jeans that fit her like a second skin, from cupping her heart shaped ass to the tops of her ankles where she’s standing on bare feet. She has it topped with a little pink T-shirt and her hair is up again, in a mess on the back of her head like last night.

  “Daddy’s here!” Cara announces before skipping out of the room and I swear Paige jumps in surprise.

  She barely turns from the sink with her wet, soapy hands and peeks over her shoulder to greet me with a small smile. “Hey.”

  I lean my shoulder against the wall. “Hey darlin’. You look like you’ve been sitting around eating bonbons again.”

  Paige peeks one more time grinning. “Kinda.”

  Rinsing another pan, she lays it on a towel before flipping the water off. As she turns, my eyes go directly to her tits because her little pink shirt reads “I Eat Glitter For Breakfast”.

  Hell if her ridiculous shirt doesn’t make me grin and I raise my eyebrows. “Glitter?”

  “What?” she frowns.

  I drag my eyes down to her tits again, pleased to have a reason to and jut my chin at her shirt. I look back up and I’m surprised she’s not flushing, but grinning this time.

  “Oh. Well, it is the breakfast of champions. And maybe princess fairies. But I’m one hundred percent pure champion. You better watch out, Just Cam.”

  The woman makes me smile. “I’ll consider myself warned.”

  “We made dinner, as you can see.” She changes the subject. “I had an event tonight. I usually deliver, but when they called to book at the last minute I told them no since I’m keeping Noah and Cayden. When they insisted on paying more and offered to pick it up, I couldn’t resist. Cara helped and we have plenty. You all are more than welcome to stay.”

  I can’t help myself—I tip my head. “Are you asking me out, Paige?”

  Her eyes get big and her brows furrow. “What? No. Of course not. Stay, don’t stay. I don’t care. We have extra, I was just trying to be nice.”

  I straighten away from the wall and walk to her, not able to wait another second to touch her. When I come close, I look into her big, brown eyes framed by her long lashes. Now that I’m close, I notice they aren’t just brown. Gold flecks surround the edges, making them deeper, like she’s inviting me in. I grab the hem of her shirt and twist it in my hand before grabbing her slim hip firmly, my thumb touching her skin.

  When she’s surprised by my touch, I say, “I’m kidding. We’ll stay. As long as you don’t eat glitter for dinner.”

  “No,” she breathes, but doesn’t miss a beat. “Glitter’s like oatmeal. It’s only good for breakfast.”

  “Then we’re staying.” I give her another squeeze and brush her skin with my thumb again before letting her go. “What’s for dinner?”

  She steps back, still surprised but not flushed this time. She takes in a deep breath. “Beef Wellington, roasted balsamic salad, garlic new potatoes, and sautéed Portobello mushrooms. I made a Baileys cheesecake for dessert, but obviously my client bought the whole thing. I mean, who wants just half a cheesecake? Especially with Baileys Irish Cream. Not to toot my own horn, but it’s great and I didn’t have time to bake two. Same with the onion soufflé appetizer, but we should have plenty of food.”

  “I gotta say, I’m bummed about the cheesecake, but the rest makes up for it. But I have to know, people pay you to make them dinner?” I ask, needing to find out more about her.

  She shrugs while turning away from me and moves to the food. “I’m a caterer. I started a few months ago. It’s going well, but now I’m a blogger, too. That just sort of happened. The blogging is turning out to be more profitable than the catering, not that the catering isn’t. It’s fine, but the blogging is pure profit, just a lot of work. Tonight I had a dinner party for ten, nothing too hard.”

  Having no idea blogging is profitable, I ask, “You blog about your catering?”

  “Sort of,” she explains. “It started out that way. But most people who follow blogs do it because they want to make their life easier or learn how to do things themselves. My blog focuses on easy recipes, entertaining, healthy stuff that still tastes good, products I like and want to recommend. Really, it’s anything I want to blog about. I sell advertising—that’s how I make money. But the more followers I have, the more I make so my blog needs to stay fresh and original. You want something to drink?”

  “Whatever you’re having’s fine.” I move to lean my hips against the counter where I can watch her work.

  “Beef Wellington calls for wine. You like Merlot?”

  I tip my lips. “Beer.”

  “Gotcha.” She grins back. She goes to the fridge and grabs a beer as she keeps talking. “I’ve met my goal a day early.”

  “Goal?” I ask, taking my drink.

  “Cara. We’ve moved well beyond paragraphs. She’s a chatterbox. And for me to call someone a chatterbox is saying something. She’s decided she likes to make salad, and not
because she likes to eat salad. She was emphatic that she does not like to eat salad. But she enjoys throwing everything in a bowl and shaking it up. She thought that was fun. She also told me she doesn’t like her steak red, but really, it’s a shame to bake a tenderloin to well done, she’ll just have to deal with it tonight. I don’t have the heart to massacre a Beef Wellington, it’s too good. She also told me you’re a coach.” She says this last part like she’s accusing me of something.

  “Yep.” I take a drink, trying to keep up with her.

  Paige rolls her eyes. “Maybe Cara gets it from you. Are you unable to speak paragraphs, too?”

  I raise an brow at the wiseass in front of me. “I’m the head football coach at Highland. I coach other teams, too, through my business.”

  She stops what she’s doing and turns in the middle of the kitchen to look at me. “You work at Highland?”

  “Yep.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “I went to Highland.”

  Fuck.

  Could she be that young that she was there since I’ve been there? Did I just jack off in the shower last night to a former student? All of a sudden I’m pissed, at who, I don’t know, but pissed all the same.

  I frown. “How old are you?”

  She ignores my question. “Are you a teacher there?”

  “When did you graduate?” I bite.

  “What do you teach?” she keeps on.

  “Paige,” I demand an answer with my voice.

  “Cam,” she mocks me.

  “Dammit, how old are you?”

  She’s fucking frustrating, because she tips her head to the side and chides, “How old are you?”

  I slam my beer bottle down to the counter at my side and drop my head trying to control my temper.

  “Home Economics?” I hear a smile in her voice.

  I look up and frown, but she’s fucking grinning.

  “No, you probably teach PE because you’re all muscly and a coach,” she goes on smiling big. “I bet the girls giggle when you get to the health section and have to teach sex ed.”