The Crow Brothers: JET - TULSA - RIVERS - RIDGE

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The Crow Brothers: JET - TULSA - RIVERS - RIDGE Page 76

by Scott, S. L.


  The truth of the matter is I don’t have a comeback to that. She’s right. Stella lived through the worst of me. She now deserves the best.

  I go inside and start my planning.

  * * *

  The flowers are bundled in glowing green paper. I watch as the florist starts tying the string around and telling me how much she loves my music. She picked out the flowers, insisting I had to get them. “Any lady would be lucky to receive these . . . best in the store . . . spare no expense when it comes to love . . .”

  “Wait.” The woman with flowers in her pink and silver hair looks up with two loops in her hands. I say, “They’re very pretty flowers, but they’re not the right ones.”

  Unwinding the bundle without missing a beat, she says, “We’ll find the right ones then. I have lilacs in the back. Let me go grab those real quick.”

  “No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t be here.” I pull my wallet out and give her a handful of twenties not sure how much those fancy flowers cost. “Thank you for the assistance and I’m sorry for the trouble.”

  I turn to leave, and when I push open the door and the bell chimes, she holds up the money, and says, “But you didn’t buy anything.”

  “It’s fine. Keep it.” I walk out into the sun, pull my shades from my shirt, and cover my eyes. Stella never needed fancy. She just needed me like I needed her.

  I know what to do and where to go, so I get in my SUV and drive out Highway 290 until I find the perfect field. I pull over to the side of the road and carefully climb over the barbed wire fence. The beauty of Texas is like Stella. It never ceases to amaze me.

  But since I’m trespassing on somebody’s property, I start picking the prettiest daisies I can find, ignoring the cows grazing peacefully twenty yards away. Daisies were my mom’s favorite flower. I used to pick them on our walks. She would kneel and have me put them in her hair.

  I smile from the memory. With three boys who loved their mama, she would be covered in flowers by the time we got home. As we got bigger, she would leave little vases around the house. While we were outside shooting BB guns or playing hoops, we’d pick a handful on our way home and plunk them in there.

  Standing in the middle of a field of wildflowers, I feel sick. When did we stop picking flowers for her? When did she stop putting vases out?

  Why was she taken from us?

  From me?

  The pain is crippling. My heart hurts as much today as it did the day I lost her. I look up into the fall blue sky, only finding clouds floating by as life carries on without her. It doesn’t. My life doesn’t. Jet’s nor Tulsa’s. Stella and Meadow’s life was touched, irrevocably touched by the woman who loved us so much that it doesn’t seem blue skies should exist without her here to see them.

  She was buried under endless blue with not a cloud in the sky and a cool breeze. Novembers in Texas are supposed to be overcast and dreary, the weather turning from fall to winter.

  Not that day.

  It’s as if heaven rolled out the perfect blue to whisk her away. I couldn’t understand how there could still be happiness or laughter heard in the world when the woman who made our days incredible was no longer with us. I miss her so much. Eight years later and I still miss her so fucking much. Tell me you love me, Mom. Just one more time so I can hear your voice. Please. Holding the flowers in the air while tears fall down my face, I beg, “I’ll be the man you always said I’d be, Mom. For you. For Stella. But can I just hear your voice again? Please?”

  Like every other time, I don’t hear her voice. I can barely remember what she sounded like when she sang, but I do remember that she had the voice of an angel. “Maybe God wanted His angel to be with Him in Heaven, Riv.” Meadow said that to me at the funeral. I was so angry that I probably said something horrible back to her. Stella had held us both tight despite my anger and pain. Then she’d moved on to Jet and finally Tulsa. They had both melted into her hug, knowing she was mourning just as much as they were. I felt so guilty, as if it was because of me.

  The sound of an eighteen-wheeler driving by brings me back to reality. A reality where my mother no longer exists. I look at the flowers in my hand and remember why I’m here.

  Stella.

  Stella is so much like my mom. They both loved these wildflowers, and somehow, they fit both of their personalities. Luxuries are nice, but they don’t fill the soul. It’s never been about money; it’s about the thought. It’s about moments. Memories. I keep searching for the perfect flowers to pick, remembering when Stella told me we didn’t need things because we had love. Our love would always be enough.

  She’s forgotten, but I’m going to prove to her she was right.

  24

  Rivers

  Most of the students cleared campus thirty minutes earlier with a few stragglers still hanging around. I stayed in my car to keep a low profile until I felt the coast was clear. Fortunately, the teacher’s parking lot is separate from the other lot, but I didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention to Stella. She’d hate that.

  I know she said she’d catch a ride, but screw this dude, friend, principal, landlord whatever the fuck guy. Something smells fishy. I haven’t even met him, but I know how guys operate, and I sure as fuck know how they think. Stella is too trusting when it comes to strangers. She always did think the best until she was screwed over.

  Naomi did a job on her, which blew up in my face.

  I’ve learned the hard way not to trust anyone if your last name isn’t Crow or Fellowes. I’m letting Ridge into my close-knit circle of family and friends by the skin of his teeth, though I still need to have a talk with him about Meadow.

  Whoa. Is that Stella?

  Expecting a longer wait, maybe even a few hours even, I’m surprised to see her. I grab the flowers from the 7-Eleven cup of water I bought to keep them alive and hop out of the vehicle.

  She hasn’t seen me, her eyes cast down, glued to her phone. But when she does, it’s better than I ever hoped for. Her feet have stopped but a smile moves into place as if I’m the best part of her day.

  Please let me be the best part of her day.

  When she comes toward me, I start walking to meet her in the middle. “How was your day, Ms. Fellowes?”

  “Better now.”

  I hold out the bouquet. “Picked you some flowers.”

  She drops her phone into her bag. “You sure did,” she replies, taking them in hand. Standing there, looking down at the flowers, her shoulders shake with the quietest of sobs. “Thank you.”

  “Are you crying?” Why is she crying?

  “I had a terrible day, and here you are looking incredibly sexy with flowers that you picked just for me and after you were so sweet to remember how much creamer I like in my coffee.”

  Opening my arms to her, I match her happiness without the tears. “Aww. C’mere.” I embrace her from the awful day, wishing I could give her only the best from this day forward.

  “So what you’re saying is I’m looking sexier than usual?”

  My chest is whacked as she pushes out of my hold. “Ugh. You’re ridiculous.” She walks around me to the car, but I beat her to the door and open it.

  “But incredibly sexy. Not just sexy. You said the word incredibly.”

  “Yes. Yes. Incredibly, you annoying beast of a man.”

  I shut the door, laughing while I move around the back of the SUV. The smile on her face was worth being ridiculous at my own expense to earn it. Hopping into the driver’s seat, I start the vehicle. “Your place?”

  The question makes her ponder, worrying her forehead as she stares back at the school. “Yeah, I need to change clothes.”

  She has me park behind her car to leave the other side of the driveway free for this landlord guy. We go inside, and I sit in the living room while she changes clothes. I want to pounce her and have our repeat sooner than later, but she’s had a rough day, and I want her to feel safe to keep some space if that’s how she likes to unwind after a rough day. “What ha
ppened today? You said it was terrible.”

  She comes out of the bedroom, and my dick gets hard just looking at her. Full tits I can see through a tight white little tank top over a dark pair of even shorter cutoffs than the other day exposes her tan stomach and long legs. “Fuck me, woman. Are you trying to kill me?”

  “What?” she asks while reaching into the fridge, showing off that fine ass of hers.

  “Uh-huh. Sure.” She totally knows what she’s doing.

  She pops up with two bottles in hand. “Beer?”

  “Yep. A beer and you. Get over here, sexy thing.”

  With bouncing tits, she comes to me and straddles my lap. The tease. While she twists the caps off, which is sexy in and of itself, I hold her hips down so she can feel my pain. She wriggles around, making it evident she knows and making my hard-on worse. The vixen doesn’t even kiss me before grinding on me and sipping her beer like I’m just here for her amusement. “Damn. You really don’t play fair.”

  “Is sex fair?” she asks, her hair flowing over her shoulders and covering that neck I love to kiss.

  “Fun and fair. Want me to show you?”

  “Did you bring protection?” Stretching back, she sets her beer on the table behind her.

  “I’ll be ready anytime and anywhere when it comes to you.” I take a long pull of my beer before wrapping one arm around her to hold her in place, leaning forward, and setting it on the table behind her. I dig out my wallet and toss the foil packet on the couch next to us. Running my hand from the nape of her neck into her hair, I bring her in so I can kiss her. All the tentativeness of the previous few days is gone.

  Although she’s had a rough day, she bends toward me, comfortable on my lap. The bad starts fading away from her shoulders, and she kisses me like we do it every day. If I have my way, we will.

  I lift her tank top up from the hem. When she raises her arms straight up, I remove it and put it next to me on the couch while admiring the pink pert nipples of her bare tits. I adjust her on my lap so she moves one to my mouth while her arms leverage my shoulders for balance. I hold the weight of her tit in my hand.

  Taking the soft nub between my teeth, I put gentle pressure eliciting little moans. Her hips start moving again as her head goes back. I swathe with my lips and lick before moving to the other not wanting to leave any part of her body not attended to properly.

  The way she moves on top of me urges me on, and I run my other hand down the curve of her waist and to the front, popping the snap on her shorts. “I want in.”

  “My shorts?” She starts to lift on her knees, but I take her hips and lift her to her feet.

  “You. Take everything off.”

  The sly grin that appears is tantalizing. “You take everything off too.”

  I stand, invading all her space like I want to invade her. Reaching over my shoulders, I pull my T-shirt off and then start on my jeans and boxers while kicking off my shoes. Her shorts are dropped, and my girl didn’t bother with underwear either. I’m liking this old side of her that seems to be coming back so naturally.

  Pushing me back on the couch when my clothes are off, she slinks to her knees in front of me and takes my cock in hand at the base. “What are you going to do with that?”

  “Taste it. Taste you. Reward myself after a long day.”

  I shouldn’t feel so smug over her stroking my ego, but damn, she knows how to stroke . . . my ego. “Yeah, just like that, baby.” This is her reward? Surely, it’s mine alone.

  Lifting higher on her knees, there’s nothing shy about how she takes me in her mouth and sucks, sending my head to the back of the couch. No way am I missing this show, though. I lift to find her eyes closed as she slides down, savoring me like the reward she called me.

  Her mouth is hot, wet, and—“Oh fuck.”

  Just when I think it can’t get better, she changes her speed or suction, touching me just right with her teeth or tongue to keep the nerves on end. I touch the side of her head and watch until I can’t take it any longer. “I’m gonna come.” The pace picks up, but I sit up and lift her chin. “Inside you.”

  The pink lips I like kissing are red and swollen, tempting me to fuck them some more, but my carnal cravings want to stake my claim deep inside her again. I take the condom and hand it to her. The package is ripped open, and she slides the rubber down my slick length.

  She doesn’t wait for an invitation. She just takes what she wants by getting up and moving over me. I position myself at her entrance, and she slides down, her palms pressing into my shoulders, nails digging into my back, desire seen in her eyes. She kisses me when she comes to rest in my lap.

  I like this. I like her too much to let her slip away again, so I hold her there and keep kissing her. The connection extends more than physically. My heart attached to hers while words I shouldn’t say hang on the tip of my tongue as she swallows them, and me. My soul. Wholly owning me again. “Stella?”

  Our lips part and her eyes slowly open, glazed as if woken from a dream. She caresses my face and leans her head against mine, then whispers, “What is it?”

  It’s too soon. I know it is, but how do I hold in what I’ve always felt for her. Do I say it and potentially scare her off, or take it slow and wait like I’m supposed to? Fuck. “I love you.”

  Her head goes back, and eyebrows shoot straight up. Her lips part, but just as regret starts to filter into my head, a curve to her mouth turns into a smile and her whole expression softens. Still cupping my face, she says, “Your words are music to my heart.”

  “You feel them? Do you feel how much I love you?”

  “Rivers, I feel so much of everything when I’m with you. It’s as though we were never apart but excited being reunited.”

  She doesn’t have to say the words. I don’t need the words. I only need her. “It just fucking bubbled up inside me and came out. I don’t care if it’s too soon—”

  “It’s not too soon. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” I’m attacked with her mouth on mine. Close to tossing her down on the couch, I want to fuck her senseless, but she’s gotten the best of me. Her moans aren’t quiet but loud reverberating through my body as she starts moving on top of me, making my mind go hazy as we fuck our way to a release.

  My name is called as her tits move in opposition to the rhythm we’ve found. I’m so close to coming again that I start to buck, my thrusts getting harder as she rises and lands on top of me. Her mouth wide open and her head back, she calls my name like a curse word ripping through her, and her body tenses, squeezing my release from me. My arms looped around her and holding her down on top of me by the shoulders, I rest my head against her chest as the last of my orgasm is thrust from me.

  I lift my head and look up at her still seated on my lap. She says, “I love you, too.”

  “You do?”

  “I never stopped.” Her shoulders sag. I know the feeling.

  I caress her neck and make sure her eyes are on me. “I’ve spent years denying that I still loved you, but when I’m with you, especially like this, I can’t lie to myself and won’t lie to you. I love you, Stella Lilith, and always have.”

  “I love you, Rivers East. She kisses my lips, and then whispers, “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

  “We always were.” And hopefully, we always will be.

  25

  Stella

  With my feet kicked up on the arm of the couch and my legs tangled with Rivers, I’d fallen asleep in his arms on the loveseat. It felt too good to leave where we fell—fell into each other and fell in love. Again.

  He loves me.

  He told me.

  He told me first, offering his heart to me again.

  I felt it, though I denied it to myself worried that this was some elaborate ruse I wasn’t in on. But he said it, spoken from the heart as if he couldn’t contain it any longer. My sweet man.

  Rivers is a big guy with an even bigger heart. I run the tip of my finger over the star on his chest, light
enough not to wake him. I hope. Thinking about the stuff that went down with Naomi and what followed.

  We haven’t gone into details about that night or any that followed, but where I was once confident I was right and he was a liar, I now feel in my gut, or maybe it’s felt in my soul that he was always telling me the truth. I was just too upset to see through the blurry red of my anger. I was young, so young. Twenty feels like more than five years ago. It feels like a lifetime of innocence swept away in the blink of an eye.

  Rivers’s hand covers mine, and he brings it to his mouth, kissing the tips of my fingers one by one. Although I smile, he doesn’t see because his eyes are still closed. Placing my palm over his heart, he holds it there, and peeks one eye and then the other open at me, greeting me with a smile. “How long were we asleep?”

  “Almost two hours.”

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  A knock on the door startles me. I look up to see Brian through the blinds standing on the porch. Shoot. Scrambling to my feet, I say, “Go to the bedroom.”

  “What?” he asks, sitting up but not hustling to hide. “Why?”

  “Because I need you to. I don’t want to introduce you while you’re naked.”

  Rivers finally stands. “You’re naked. I’m not letting you answer the door dressed in nothing, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Stella?” Brian calls. “Do you know whose car that is in the driveway?”

  When he looks toward the door, I shoo him into the bedroom. “Please. And get dressed.”

  Picking up his jeans and shirt, I throw them, accidentally hitting him in the face. “Jeez, thanks.”

  Brian calls louder, “Stella? Are you in there?”

  I pull on my top and yank up my shorts. “Coming.”

  Rivers is pissed. Standing just inside the bedroom, he says, “It better be a good fucking reason for bothering you.”

  “He was my friend.”

  “Was?” he asks, zipping up his jeans and stepping out into the living room.

 

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