“I’m really getting married.”
I laughed and clapped my friend on the shoulder. “Yep, it’s really happening. You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”
Jared shook his head and smiled. “Absolutely not. Brandi is it for me, but seeing all these decorations and shit does make me feel nervous.”
Through the kitchen, another door led to another narrow brick walkway that opened onto a wide side garden. Just ahead was a sparkling pool where someone was swimming laps.
“Mr. MacFarland, and Mr. Martinez,” a clipped Southern voice greeted, and we both looked up to see the MacFarland family butler — a stern woman named Minerva Griffiths.
“Minerva! You’re still alive! I had no idea,” Jared joked.
And even though I knew that they had always shared this antagonistic humor, it still made me cringe. I felt uncomfortable in the presence of obvious wealth, even though I had some of my own now.
“Still insufferable, I see,” Minerva said drolly.
“Come now, Minnie! You haven’t seen me since Thanksgiving. Give us a kiss!”
Minerva swatted at him. “Don’t you dare put your lips on me, you bratty toddler! I can’t believe you convinced that nice girl to marry you. She’ll live to regret it. You mark my words.”
Jared smacked a kiss on her cheek anyway, and Minerva blushed bright red. “Where’s my mother?”
The lady butler rolled her eyes. “Swimming. She’s always in the pool nowadays.”
My friend shrugged. “There’s worse things.”
“Will you be staying in your old bedroom?”
“Yes, I will be, but I think mother said she set Tomás up in the garçonnière—”
“Jesus,” I scoffed.
“What?”
“Garçonnière? Minerva’s right. You are a spoiled brat.”
“I always did like you,” Minerva said with a smile. “Leave your bags here, and I’ll make sure they get to your rooms and unpacked.”
“Oh, if you don’t mind, Minerva, I’d like to unpack my own bag.”
“Why can’t Minnie unpack your bag? What are you hiding in there? Your pocket pussy?”
I elbowed him hard. “The fuck, man?”
“I’m just saying, it’s been a while since you’ve talked about a woman in any significant way. If you did have a pocket pussy in your carry-on, I wouldn’t judge.”
“I’d hate to mar your pretty face three days before your wedding,” I growled through clenched teeth. It was an empty threat. I loved this man like a brother, but he was really embarrassing the shit out of me right now.
“Relax,” Jared said, giving me a lazy smile. “I know you’re too uptight for that. Come on. Let’s go say hey to mom.”
I followed Jared into the house, then through the French doors to the balustrade that ran the length of the townhome — down here, they called them piazzas. The junior Olympic-size pool was just beyond the porch, and I could see Darcy slicing her way through the water.
“Hey, mom!” Jared called out.
Darcy stopped mid-stroke and treaded water while she squinted in our direction. “Jared? Tommy? Hey!” she exclaimed before she dove under the surface and swam to the edge of the pool.
“Oh, shit,” I said breathlessly as she climbed out of the water.
I shouldn’t stare, especially since I was standing next to her son — my best friend — but fuck…
Darcy was wearing an orange swimsuit with cut-outs that revealed her flat belly and toned back. The color contrasted and complimented her smooth golden saddle-brown skin. She turned to grab her towel, and water trailed off her two braids and down her back, drawing my attention to her ass. The ass-to-waist ratio made the rise of her hips the perfect place for me to hold her if I—
Not now, damn it.
But goddamn, this woman was still as beautiful as I remembered. Her angular teardrop face didn’t sport a single wrinkle until she smiled — full lips parting and her wide light brown eyes twinkling as she regarded us both. She pulled on a caftan, hiding all of that gorgeous skin. The loose fabric did nothing to hide the slow roll of her hips as she made her way toward us, though. A bright smile graced her lips as she climbed the steps.
“My gorgeous son,” she said, cupping Jared’s cheek like he was a kid and not a thirty-two-year-old man about to get married.
“Hey, mommy,” Jared crooned and kissed his mother.
She turned toward me, and I swear my heart punched out of my chest like a cartoon wolf with hearts for eyes.
“Hey, Ms. MacFarland,” I stammered.
Darcy rolled her eyes and swatted my shoulder. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Darcy?”
My cheeks heated a little from her light scolding. “It just seems disrespectful.”
“Nonsense,” she said with a sweet smile on her face. “I’m Darcy to you.” She moved in close and cupped my cheeks in her hands. “Sweet lil’ Tommy… It’s been too long. I’d hug you, but I’m all wet!”
And then she kissed me — on the cheek, but it was still a kiss — and I felt like I might faint because all of the blood in my body had suddenly rushed to my dick.
“I’m so glad you boys came out here early. Are you hungry?” she asked, turning to Jared, still holding my face in her hands.
“Starved,” Jared groaned.
“Okay, let me go up and get dressed, and we’ll go to that place you like.” She turned her attention back to me and looked me right in the eye. “Lil’ Tommy Martinez,” she said again in a soft voice that felt like it was just for me.
I’m not little where it matters. I bit my bottom lip to hold in that declaration, and her eyes tracked the movement. Not for the first time, I wondered if she did that to create some distance between us. As if calling me Lil’ Tommy helped her see me as a kid and not the grown ass man who’s always had eyes for her. Either way, the nickname has never made me feel infantilized or disrespected. It felt as intimate as her hands holding my face.
“Mom…his name is Tomás. No one calls him Tommy anymore,” Jared said.
“She can call me Tommy if she wants,” I said. My voice was way too low and way too suggestive and probably gave too much away.
“Seriously? I know how much you hate it,” my friend asked just as his cell phone began to ring. “It’s Brandi. Let me talk to her right quick.” Jared walked a few paces away, but I barely registered it because Darcy was still touching me, looking right into my eyes.
“So, which is it, Tommy or Tomás?” she asked, emphasizing más as if she wanted more. And fuck if I didn’t want to give it to her.
“I meant what I said. You can call me whatever you want,” I said again, trying and nearly failing to keep my mouth and my body a respectable distance from hers.
The corners of her bright eyes squinted just the tiniest bit, and a smile quirked one corner of her mouth. “Well, I like Tommy. You’ve always been my Lil’ Tommy,” she said, giving my cheek an affectionate pat and then letting me go.
Yes, ma’am, I have.
2
Tomás
While Darcy dressed, I hoped I would be able to run to the garçonnière — such a fucking pretentious word — to unpack and jerk off again, but Jared followed me up the steps to the small two-bedroom apartment over the garage. He was still talking to Brandi, but now she was on speaker, asking about the bachelor party.
“I really hope that he hasn’t planned some last hurrah fuck session with one of your grimy ex-girlfriends,” she said with a little more attitude than I was accustomed to hearing from her.
I turned to Jared and gave him a questioning look, and he just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.
“Babe, I don’t know what Tomás has planned, but I’m sure he’s not lining up some sort of last-minute fuck session with any of my grimy ex-girlfriends. Right, best man?” He thrust the phone under my chin.
“Uh…” I stammered, caught off-guard. “No grimy exes. I promise.”
“That soun
ds like a lie, Tomás. I’ve never known you to be a liar.”
The laugh that bubbled out of me at that statement was genuine because, of course, I’m a liar. No, I wasn’t lying about keeping Jared away from his grimy exes — who had most certainly started circling the moment they learned of his engagement. But I was lying to myself and everyone about being this strait-laced dude who didn’t even want to be accused of packing a pocket pussy. I was lying when I pretended to receive that affection from Darcy as purely maternal when my dick was hard as fuck. She fucking touched me and kissed me. I would most certainly let her do—
“Bro!” Jared stage-whispered, pulling me back into the present.
Right. I was supposed to convince his fiancée that there would be no exes on the agenda tomorrow night. I took the phone and paced away from Jared. “Brandi, hasn’t Jay always been faithful to you?”
“I mean, yes, but—”
“So why would he stop now?”
“I don’t know, but—”
“And have you seen pictures of his exes?” I asked, in full negotiation mode now.
She chuckled. “Yeah, I have.”
“Brandi, you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever dated, and you put up with his childish, spoiled ass even better than I do, and I’ve known him for years.”
“I suspect that’s because I can suck his dick to get him to do anything that I want, but you’re right.”
“Whoa-ho-ho! Ma’am!” Jared exclaimed, snatching the phone out of my hand and taking it off speaker. “Why are you airing our business out like that?”
Laughing, I grabbed my carry-on and my suitcase and rolled it into the nearest bedroom. Darcy wasn’t kidding when she had the apartment remodeled. When I stayed here, it was wall-to-wall carpet, cheap tile in the kitchenette and bathroom, and a fiberglass tub and shower insert. Now, hardwood floors graced the common areas. The bedrooms were carpeted with a higher-end product, and the big Jack and Jill bathroom that connected the bedrooms was now tiled from floor to ceiling with grey subway tile and had a big glass shower enclosure. It was nice when I lived here, but now it would be easy to rent out if she ever needed to do that. That made me wonder if she’d remodeled it with that purpose in mind. She was a widow. Was money an issue now?
That is none of your business, Tomás.
But it was hard not to worry about her now that I knew about the divorce. Darcy was a broker with her own agency, so I was sure she wasn’t destitute now that Shannon was gone. But there was Jolene to worry about. I’d heard horror stories about spiteful mistresses tying up their lover’s estate in probate court. Was Jolene the spiteful sort? Had Shannon convinced her that Darcy was some horrible, cold fish of a wife who deserved to be cheated on? From what I could remember, he certainly had no problem talking about his wife as if she were a burden and not the love of his life.
Damn.
It was strange that I remembered all of that now and saw it from a different perspective. It made my heart ache for Darcy. Who was taking care of her and her needs now?
I want to be the one taking care of her needs. All of them.
I palmed my dick and eyed the door to the Jack and Jill bathroom. Had I spent too much time contemplating Darcy’s mental and emotional well-being, or did I still have time to take the edge off (again)?
Standing in the open doorway, I listened to see if Jared was still in the apartment. Damn it, he was, but he was still on the phone with Brandi, so maybe I had enough time to handle my business.
As quietly as I could, I backed up into the room with my thumb on the button of my shorts. But before I could get the door closed, Jared was on the other side, pushing his way in.
“Mom just sent me a text to say she was ready to go. Are you about done in here?” he asked.
“Uh… yeah,” I said hesitantly. “Lemme just use the bathroom right quick.”
“Cool, no problem,” he said, then flopped onto the bed.
I clenched my teeth. This was my best friend who lacked boundaries and constantly barreled through mine. There was no fucking way I was going to get him out of this room long enough for me to rub one out.
“I’ll just be a second,” I said, then ducked into the bathroom and closed the door.
“Hey, by the way, sorry if mom was like…inappropriate or whatever. I think she forgets that we aren’t kids sometimes, you know? It’s just in her nature to baby us.”
Was that what she was doing down by the pool? Why did my dick say differently?
“I think it’s sweet, but Brandi thinks it’s weird, so I know it can be a little off-putting sometimes,” Jared continued.
I rolled my eyes and unzipped my flies. “Why are you talking to me about your mom like I didn’t live with her for most of my junior and senior year of college?” I asked, reaching into my underwear to adjust my dick so that it wasn’t tenting the front of my shorts in an obscene way. “It’s no big deal, Jay. I know your mom can be…affectionate and nurturing.”
“Yeah, I’m just saying. That shit might be on ten now. You haven’t been around since the divorce.”
I frowned. This was the second time my usually unobservant friend had said something about how Darcy was reacting to his father’s death. Was he more concerned about his mother than he was letting on?
And here I was daydreaming about bending his mother over this quartz bathroom counter. That deflated my dick faster than anything had in the last month or so of planning this wedding with Darcy. I zipped up my shorts, washed my hands, and opened the door to the bedroom. “You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yeah, kinda,” he said without looking me in the eyes. “She just hasn’t been herself, you know? If I knew that letting Dylan be the ring bearer at my wedding was going to cause this much drama, I wouldn’t have included him. But he’s my little brother. It’s not our fault we had such a shitty dad.”
“I get it.” Unlike me, Jared was an only child. He was one hundred percent into forming a relationship the moment he knew about Dylan’s existence. But, again, that had to be hard for Darcy to stomach. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep Darcy happy and distracted this weekend. I’ve got my marching orders.”
Jared grimaced. “It’s weird as fuck to hear you call my mother by her first name,” he said as he climbed off the bed. “Even more weird, that you’re letting her call you Tommy. I thought you hated that shit.”
“I do…except when Darcy does it,” I said with a waggle of my eyebrows.
“Yeah, no. I don’t even like the implication of that look. Don’t turn the Martinez charm on full blast,” he warned. “And don’t think I didn’t hear you curse under your breath when she got out of the pool. Keep her happy, but keep it PG, Tommy. I know how you like the older ladies.”
“Jared MacFarland, what exactly are you accusing me of? I’m a gentleman,” I said, covering my heart with my hand.
Jared narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re right,” he said finally. “But, I hope you’re not too much of a gentleman to give me a debauched bachelor party.”
“Debauched? That’s a big word for you.”
“And I hope my weekend lives up to it.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”
Charleston has always been the sort of city that you eat your way through. In the years since I’d spent any real time here, that had become even more true. Quite a few new restaurants had been added to the roster, and Jared’s favorite spot, a place called The Butcher & The Bee, was one of them.
“Good afternoon, y’all! Do you have a reservation?” the hostess asked cheerfully.
“Uh, no. Can we sit outside, though? You boys don’t mind, do you?”
“Mom, it’s like ninety degrees outside,” Jared complained.
“But I’m in a sundress. I’ll freeze to death in this air conditioning,” Darcy complained, rubbing her bare arms.
“We’ve got some fans out there. I can make sure y’all are seated near one,” the
hostess suggested.
“Perfect compromise,” I said, pulling the door open again.
“Thank you, Tommy,” Darcy purred as she gathered the hem of her long, gauzy sundress and followed the hostess to our table.
Darcy was chic and bohemian in her long, striped linen sundress, with flat braided sandals on her narrow feet, and her hair pulled up into a messy and still slightly wet bun. She looked fit, sun-kissed, and half her age, but totally different in some distinct way from the woman I knew years ago. More relaxed, maybe? More comfortable in her skin?
“You know…you probably wouldn’t be so cold all the time if you had some meat on your bones,” Jared teased as he pulled out her chair.
“Meat on my bones?” she countered with a raised brow, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
“Yeah,” he said, grabbing the other chair that was completely shaded, which left me with my back in the scorching sun. “All that swimming has made you too lean.”
“Whatever,” Darcy said with a dismissive wave. “I’m in the best shape of my life.”
“I know that’s right,” the hostess cosigned while passing out the menus. “You look damn good for a woman who has a son his age.”
“She looks damn good, period,” I corrected before I was able to censor the thought. I didn’t have a chance to regret it, though, because the compliment brought the prettiest smile to Darcy’s lips.
“Thank you, Tommy,” she said. “I wish my son could just give his mother a compliment without the critique.” She raised an eyebrow at him again.
“Come on, mom. You know you’re beautiful, but men in your age bracket tend to like their women a lil’ bit thicker.”
Darcy scoffed. “First of all, I lost the weight for me. Not to attract a man. I’ll have you know that I have no interest in dating right now. I’m just trying to do me. And secondly, if I were interested in dating, what makes you think I’d be looking for a man my age?”
Oh, shit!
“Mom! Are you saying that you’re a cougar?”
Please, say yes. Please, say yes, and I’ll be your cub.
If She Says Yes Page 2