NIX (Daring the Kane Brothers)

by Kelly Gendron

  “He was a baby,” Harley argues, defending her boyfriend’s brother.

  “Okay.” Jaggs laughs. “I’m gonna go call the next game.” She heads toward Nix and Token.

  “Pay her no mind. She’s a little rough around the edges sometimes, but I like her.” Harley shakes her head. “I don’t know why she hates Stone, but she does. You can see it in her eyes whenever he’s around, and it’s not the kind of look you give someone for leaving an empty roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. She looks at that guy like he took the lunch from the smallest kid in the classroom after he pushed him down the stairs. She looks at him like she wants to really hurt him. I don’t get it, though. Stone acts like he doesn’t even notice her. Not in a mean way, just in his way. He’s a bit of an introvert. Have you met him yet?”

  “No.” I sip my wine.

  “Well, you’ll get what I’m saying when you do. He’s just different.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind when or if I do. I won’t go straight to psycho.” I look up, greeted by smiling green eyes coming my way. A smile slips across my mouth. He’s sexy as hell. “I take it you lost?”

  “I did.” Nix sits down across from me in the chair Jaggs just evacuated. “On purpose.” He winks.

  “Okay, that’s my cue.” Harley grabs her glass and makes her way over to Jaggs and Token.

  I laugh, turning my attention back to Nix. “You intended to lose?”

  “That’s right.” He takes a swig of his beer, eyes still fixed on me since the walk over to the table.

  “You’re the first guy I know who’s ever been proud of losing.”

  Holding his beer in the air, nearly to his mouth, he squints his eyes at me. “Did I lose?” He finishes the rest of his beer and sets it on the table. “The way I see it, that loss brought me to the prettiest girl in the room.”

  “Prettiest?” I smirk. Yeah, he’s a flirt.

  “Smartest, nicest, and the only one I see worth flirting with.” His eyes move to my mouth.

  “Right now,” I confirm, watching his little grin twitch.

  “Yes. What’s wrong with that? Are you looking for more? ’Cause, sweetheart, we can certainly discuss it. I’m game.” His eyes shift to mine. “But I thought you were all about getting naked in bed without getting our hearts involved.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Yeah, because I didn’t give you the opportunity to complete your sentence. If I recall correctly, you chose to go into your bedroom and let me make you forget about tomorrow.” He lounges back into the barstool. “So would you like to talk about it now?” His sexy grin grows into a naughty smile, and he’s still got me in his sights, not letting go, patiently waiting for a response.

  Shit! “Talk about what?” I feign ignorance as I work my fingers along the stem of my wine glass again. Why didn’t I just keep my mouth closed … and my legs. That’s what got me into this situation in the first place.

  “Our hearts,” he says without batting an eye. “Would you like to discuss if you want to get our hearts involved?”

  “Ahh …” Dammit! How does he say it so easily? We’re not talking about what movie to go see or where to eat; we’re talking about getting into a relationship. “I … ah,” I take the last sip of my wine.

  “Yes?” His eyebrow lifts as he rests his muscular forearms on the table and leans in toward me.

  “Yes?” I grimace.

  “Yes, you want to talk about it, or yes, you want to get them involved?”

  “Do I have to make a decision right this minute?”

  “No. Not at all. We can continue being friends and see where this goes, but just to be clear, there will be no me making you forget about tomorrow until you do decide.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “’Cause while you’re not sure of what you want, I am perfectly clear about what I want. I want you, Payton Tucker, and not just in my bed. I’d like to have you in here too.” He taps his chest over his heart.

  “You can’t be serious. We hardly know each other.”

  “Tell me, when you got Mittens, why’d you pick her? I’m sure, there were other kittens out there worthy of your love, but Mittens got you to pick her. Why?”

  “I don’t know. When I saw her, I just knew.”

  “Exactly, like I just know.” He pauses for a second, and all I can hear and feel is my own heartbeat. “Now, do you want another glass of wine?”

  “Yes.” I hold my glass out to him, happy for the easy question. “Please.”

  He stands up, takes my glass, and bends down. “You got it.” He kisses me. It’s chaste, soft, and gentle, and it holds more clout than any other tongue-tangled kiss from any other guy. Of course, other than him.

  His tongue-tangled kisses make me forget about tomorrow.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When Becca was five, I remember how I stood in front of the building that swallowed up my daughter on the first day of school. I stood staring at the large doors until my attention shifted to a woman who was fidgeting with her son’s collar. I turned to the left and saw a man, dressed in a suit holding a briefcase. Eyes glistening with a smile on his face, he watched the mother and child with such devoted intent.

  I remembered thinking that I’d never look at a woman like that but now standing in the doorway to my living room with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye, I watch Payton braid my daughter’s hair with such devoted intent.

  In the past couple of weeks, I believe my daughter has fallen for Payton Tucker as well. The laughter that fills the house, Becca and I have always had it, but Payton brings a new kind of joy to our lives. One everyone seems to be getting used to.

  “Look!” Becca jumps up from the floor, touching the long braid with her a tiny hand. “It’s tight! Won’t come undone when I sleep.”

  “What are you sayin’? Payton does a better braid than I do?” I enter the room, and Becca’s eyes widen. I know the look on her face. “It’s okay. I know when I’ve been defeated. Especially when it comes to braiding.” I pick Becca up.

  “Sorry, Dad, but you still make the best grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  “It’s in the tomatoes!” Becca and I say in unison and laugh.

  I tap her on the nose. “You ready for bed?”

  “No!” She pulls away from me.

  Ignoring her denial, I tap my cheek, and she kisses me. “You need to brush your teeth.” I slide her down from my arms.

  Becca cranes her neck and smiles up at me. “Can Payton tuck me in tonight?”

  My eyes move to a wide-eyed Payton, who now looks like my child did when she thought she had hurt my feelings about my braiding skills. She sits forward on the sofa and looks at my daughter. “I really think your dad should—”

  “Nah, it’s okay.” I wink at the two beautiful girls before me. “I have a few things to check on for work anyway. Go ahead,” I encourage with a wave.

  Becca, not letting Payton’s hesitance affect her, jumps up in the air. “Yes!” She does a quick arm pump. “I’ll go brush my teeth and meet you in my bedroom in a couple of minutes, okay?”

  Payton’s eyes sway from mine, and she smiles. “Sounds good.”

  Becca rushes up the stairs, and Payton stands from the sofa. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  Wrapping my arms around her waist, I grab the woman who’s stolen my heart and pull her close to me. Fuck. I love the way she smells. Love the ways she feels in my arms. “I’m good.” I drop a kiss on her forehead, and as always, her eyes close as though she’s savoring the last bite of a juicy steak or something. When she settles her head on my chest, I run a hand over her long, silky hair, appreciating the feel of her against my body. It’s as if I can never get her close enough. Maybe that’ll change when we have sex. I hope not, but it is a possibility.

  Her head pulls back. Her thick eyelashes lift, and in the matter of a millisecond, I’m captivated by her bright blue eyes. “I’m ready.”

  I rub her soft cheek wi
th my thumb, and her eyelids lower a little once more. “For?”

  Her lashes bat as if to bring herself back to reality. “To talk about our hearts.”

  “Really? Are you sure it’s not just because we haven’t had sex?” I run my thumb over her dry, plump lip. “And you’re ready for that?” I grin, for I know that I am.

  “I’ve been ready for that since the day I dropped my purse inside this house. But, no, it’s not about the sex.” She laughs.

  “Okay. Saturday night, Becca’s going to a friend’s house for a sleepover. You and I can make a nice dinner here and talk about it.” I bend down, and this time, I kiss her on the lips before letting her go tuck my daughter in for the night.

  I can’t lie. As I watch her walk up the stairs, my heart takes a small dive into my stomach. I’m the only who’s ever put Becca to sleep in this house. I bought it two years after Lexi left. I have no memories of my daughter and her mother in this house, and I plan to keep it that way.

  Things seem to be cooling off where the bitch is concerned. She hasn’t shown up in almost a month. Maybe she gave up, which doesn’t sound like her, or maybe she realized I don’t have what she’s looking for, personally or otherwise.

  Fuck. To think I almost had sex with her!

  I jog the steps two at a time and make my way to my bedroom, halting at Becca’s room when I see them lying in bed looking at the photo Becca keeps on her nightstand. I peek around the doorjamb and watch them.

  Payton touches the picture. “This is your mom?”

  “Uh-huh,” Becca replies in a quiet, timid voice, blanket pulled up to her chin with Snuggles, her stuffed rabbit, tucked under her arm.

  “She’s beautiful. You look just like her.”

  “That’s what Daddy says.” Becca touches the picture. “I don’t remember her. Is that bad?”

  “Oh, no, honey,” Payton says, looking over at my child.

  For the second time, my heart does another nosedive into my stomach. How come I didn’t know Becca felt that way? I hold myself back from clarifying with my daughter, nothing she could ever feel about her mother is bad. She left us! She’s the bad person.

  Becca looks up at Payton. Her face scrunches. “Why are you sad?”

  “I’m not sad.” Payton brushes a hand across her cheek as if she feels my daughter’s pain.

  “I know, it used to make me sad too. Daddy doesn’t talk about it, but I heard my uncle talking about how my mom went to the store, and she never came back. I guess she didn’t want me anymore.”

  My hands clench at my side, and again, I struggle to remain in the hallway as I watch and listen to my daughter’s confusion and pain. I had no idea, but it must be why she stopped asking about Lexi. Shit! The poor kid, what she must’ve felt when she heard the truth.

  “Oh, Becca, I’m sorry, that must’ve been hard to hear.”

  “It was at first.” She shrugs her little shoulder. “But I have the best daddy in the world.”

  “Yes, you do.” Payton brushes a hand over my daughter’s head as I feel a tear trickle from my eye. “And who’s this?” Payton sniffles as she points again at the photo.

  “Oh.” Becca wipes her face with her blanket. “That’s Mr. Paddington. Daddy says Mom gave him to me.”

  “Mr. Paddington like the bear?” Payton moves the photo closer. She glances at Snuggles the rabbit in Becca’s arm. “Where is he now?”

  “Don’t know. Hey, do you want to read me a story?”

  “Sure.” Payton puts the picture back on the nightstand, walks over to the small bookshelf, and starts naming off the different titles as I quietly sneak off back down the stairs.

  A few minutes later, I emerge from the basement. “Oh, hey!” I smile when I spot Payton leaning against the kitchen counter.

  “Hey.” She smiles back.

  “Sorry, I had to go down to my office to check on a few things.” I spin around and hit the button on the electric keypad lock.

  “Your office?”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s where I do most of my work during the day while Becca’s at school. It’s quiet, and there’s nothing to distract me, like the fridge, the TV, or the sexy woman standing in my kitchen.” I grab her and pull her to me. “Did she go down okay?”

  “Becca? Yeah. She’s a great kid,” she says, leaving out the conversation they had about Becca’s mom.

  “I know. I got lucky.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She places her hands on my shoulders. “I think she got pretty lucky as well to get a dad like you. She really loves you.”

  “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. The hardest but most important part about this parenting shit is discipline. I always feel so bad for yelling at her or denying her things she wants.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I know. I know,” I interrupt. “It has to be done, and I can’t be the good guy all the time.”

  “I’m sure that sucks.” She pats my shoulder. “But what I was going to say is that it must be hard because you’re doing it all alone, making those tough decisions, kissing the boo-boos and handing out the no-nos. I think Becca gets it, though. She has a lot of respect for you.”

  “Ma always says that too, says when she gets older, she’ll understand it all and be happy I raised her the way I did. Not that I’m any good at this shit. I was making some bad choices up until I met you.”

  “I’m sure you were doing the best you could.”

  Yeah, like every PTA mom. “I don’t know about that, but I think I might be on the right track now. Becca’s happy whenever you’re around, and I’m happy too.” I kiss her forehead, not wanting to push a subject it took her almost a month to be willing to discuss.

  She looks up at me with a glow in her eyes. “I like being here with you and Becca.”

  “Good.”’ I brush a few strands of her hair from her face. “I think the next step we should take is for you to meet my ma.”

  She laughs. “Let’s get through Saturday, and then we can talk about meeting the parents.”

  “Hey, that’s right. I never thought about it ’cause you never talk about them, but you have a family too. I’d love to meet your parents.”

  “Wow, now.” She tries to push back, but I hold her tight to me.

  “It’s okay.” I squeeze her. “No pressure, promise. I’m looking forward to Saturday, and maybe, if you’re a good girl, I’ll make you forget about Sunday.”

  “Or, maybe, I’ll make you forget about Sunday,” she says into my chest.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” I push my chest out until her head bends back and our eyes meet. “I look at you, and I forget about everything.”

  “Damn, you’re good.” She smirks.

  “Yeah, I am, but I’m at my absolute best with you.”

  “Shut up and kiss me, you ass.”

  “If I must.” I bend down and do just that.

  Damn, I’m really falling for this girl.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Thanks again for coming on such short notice.” Bronx Mosely shakes my hand with a firm grip. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without my laptop tonight. I have a shitload of work to get done. Token, give your brother Maria’s number. She’ll take care of the bill and tell her to put him on the payroll.” He turns back to me. “I’d like to be able to call if I have any more computer problems in the future.”

  “No problem.” I nod to the corporate giant dressed in jeans and a black button-down. Token’s known him for a few years. He took my brother under his wing when Token first got into boxing. Token’s retired now, but about a year ago, Bronx handed him the keys to his prestige boxing gym. Not sure how all that went down, but I’m sure there’s a story behind it.

  “Great,” Bronx says before leaving Token and me standing in the huge foyer of his multi-million-dollar mansion that my scruffy, bearded, tattooed, built like a brick house brother looks completely out of place in. Sort of what I’d look like in a biker bar, all kinds of wrong.

  “Sorry agai
n about the short notice.” Token grips my shoulder. “But believe me”—he leans in, green eyes smiling—“you’ll be compensated for it.”

  “It’s okay. I had to cancel my date with Payton earlier because Becca’s sleepover got canceled, but then the girls decided to stay at another friend’s house. So after I go home and wash up, I’m going to surprise Payton with a visit.”

  “You really like this chick?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Really?” His neck thrusts out with a squinted eye and a screwed-up face. He looks like that dude who likes to eat a lot of spinach. I always forget his name.

  “Yes.” I laugh. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” I head toward the door.

  “I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s just a motorcycle.” He follows me out onto the porch, grinning at the big black Wide Glide in the driveway.

  “It’s not the bike I’m worried about.” I take the stairs two at a time, head for the bike and grab my helmet. “It’s the driver.”

  “Fuck you,” Token grunts and pulls on his own helmet. “Get on, dickhead.”

  “I don’t know why you didn’t just let me meet you here.”

  “Quit your bitchin’ and get on,” Token says, smile spreading across his beard as he jumps on the bike.

  Ever since I was a kid, I’ve hated motorcycles, and the second Token discovered my fear, he’s been trying to help me overcome it. Says that by the time I’m thirty, he’ll have me driving one myself. He’s running out of time.

  Twenty minutes later, with only four near-death experiences, he pulls up in front of my place. I get off the rumbling machine.

  “Safe and sound.” He pats me on the back with a low chuckle.

  “Thanks.” I hand him my helmet and push my hair back.

  “Harley likes Payton.”

  “So do I.” It’s the truth.

  “Yeah.” He stares at me for a second, eyes just as green as Becca’s. “Maybe, now I won’t get any afternoon calls to come pick your ass up from some random motel.”