by BJ Harvey
I swing my body over his so I’m straddling his thighs. His hands glide around my hips to grip my ass. Jax’s eyes drop to my lap, my dress now riding obscenely high.
“Ahem,” I say. His head snaps up faster than a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Not that I’d complain if he wanted to put his—
“Your second question, Ronnie?” he says, using my name for the first time tonight.
“This dating idea…” I say quietly, slowly walking the fingers of my right hand up his arm, over his shoulder, and down his chest. “Does that mean sex is off the table completely?”
His hand reaches between us, wrapping around my wrist just as I reach his navel, a groan escaping his lips. He drops his head back to the couch, his eyes scrunched closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “This is gonna sound lame.”
I rest the weight of my torso against his. “How about you let me decide that?” I ask, meeting his gaze with a quirked brow.
He opens his crystal-clear amber eyes, and the absolute sincerity I see shining back at me has my breath catching in my throat.
“So, we’re going to date,” he says.
“Yes.”
“We’ll go out and stay in, and be official in private, friendly in public.”
“Mmm hmm…” I hum. His eyes drift to my mouth, and I subconsciously lick my lips at his focused attention.
“But how about we let everything else happen organically. When the time is right…”
I catch a sliver of uncertainty in his eyes, and I make a decision to drop the subject for the moment. “I think you’re right in that we should maybe take it one day at a time.”
I drop my mouth to his for a slow, soft, lazy kiss, one that isn’t going anywhere. It’s an expression of interest and a promise of what may come in future. Not tonight, though. Tonight, I’ll give Jax his coffee date. But there’s one thing I want after that.
Pulling back, I grin down at him as our eyes meet. “Okay. Now that we’ve got the heavy stuff out of the way, I want a guided tour of Barbie’s disaster house.” I swing my leg back and shift so I’m sitting on the couch beside him. “After coffee, of course. Actually, was there ever actually coffee on tonight’s menu?”
He straightens, and after running a hand through his hair and huffing out a laugh, he stands and holds out his hand for mine. “Yes, there’s coffee. I’ve even got cookies and a bottle of wine as backup.”
I beam up at him. “I’m impressed.”
“And I’ll have you know,” he says, looking around the room, “we plan on turning this dilapidated dame into someone else’s dream house within four months. This old bird will be shiny and new, with just a few splashes of her pink history scattered about.”
I slide my hand into his and let him pull me to my feet. “Just remember, less is more… especially when it comes to pink.”
“Just remember, less now doesn’t mean more won’t come in future,” he says. I don’t think we’re talking about the house anymore.
He kisses my forehead and flexes his fingers in mine before leading me out of the prima donna living room and into an equally fabulous pink dining area. From there I’m shown the surprisingly bland kitchen, which has definitely seen better days, a filled-to-the-roof office, five bedrooms which are all different shades of—you guessed it—pink, and finally, we return to the bottom of the fuchsia carpeted staircase with its pink and dark wood banister.
“How was your tour, madam?” Jax asks, the cutest of grins on his lips. We’ve had coffee, and chatted a little more about my classes and his.
“It was satisfactory. I could do with a top-up though.” I’m deliberately vague, interested to see which way he takes it. His eyes burn into mine, and the tightening of his fingers around mine gives me my clue. My back hits the front door, his hard body holding me hostage and giving me my answer.
When he kisses me breathless, mindless, and legless by way of goodbye, I know for sure I’m more than willing to take this as slowly as he needs us to go, especially if it means getting kissed so thoroughly. He kisses like he owns me, and I’m just a willing participant.
Tonight has shown me there are hidden depths to this man, and I am itching to explore every single one of them.
How did I wait a year for this? For him? Oh, that’s right; I wanted him to chase me. Now, he’s got me on the hook and wants to reel me in. Who am I to complain about that? Especially if I’m waiting to jump whenever we’re both ready for it.
He wants slow and steady and controlled, and I’ve just made it my life’s mission to make him break his rules and jump me as soon as he can’t take it anymore.
Yep. This is definitely going to be a lot of fun.
Now I can’t freaking wait to date Jaxon Cook.
Jax
Bright and early Wednesday morning, I’m sitting on the plastic-covered couch in the living room, my feet up on the dark wood coffee table, coffee in hand, when Jamie walks through the front door.
“Whoa, you’re actually awake,” he says by way of greeting. I snort and take another sip of my drink, making a show of lifting my arm to look at my watch.
“You’re actually five minutes late. What did Dad teach us about being punctual?”
Jamie rolls his eyes, his lips twitching as he walks into the room with his own travel mug in hand. “So how’s the pink lady been treating you? No ghosts determined to make our lives miserable?”
“Well, apart from the delightfully cheerful color scheme giving me Barbie nightmares, I slept like a baby.”
“Good. It’s going to get a bit dusty, messy, and chaotic from now on, but we’ll just leave your room until another one is finished and move you around when needed. Take it from me, it’s hard to live, work, and breathe in a shell of a house.”
Shrugging, I look around the room and meet his eyes again. “The place has a certain charm. I think we should try and keep as much of it as possible.”
“That’s the plan. But any ideas you’ve got, let us all know when we do the walk-through.”
I nod in agreement. “And when’s that?”
“This afternoon, once we get through the trash-or-stash process.”
“Sounds good. How many hands on deck do we have?”
He looks toward the front door just as Bryant appears in the entryway.
Bryant says, “Well, I have two, but Cohen only has the use of one, since the other one is always on his di—”
“I’m right behind you, asshole,” our youngest brother Cohen announces, narrowing his eyes at Bryant.
“Oh hey, Co. Didn’t see you there,” my twin replies with a smirk.
“My ass!” Cohen frowns then shoulders past Bryant into the room, dropping into a pale pink recliner beside me. “Got any more of that?” he asks, nodding to my cup.
“Yep, in the kitchen. I’ve only got two mugs at the moment, so it’s first in, first served,” I reply.
“Hey, be a good brother and get me a drink,” Co says, resting his head back on the chair and closing his eyes. “I’ve just finished an overnight. I’m beat.”
“How about I show you what being beat really means?” Bry mutters, earning a one-eyed shit-eating grin from Co.
“Boys, boys, boys. No need to put on a show on our account,” Ezra announces, him and our builder friend Jase appearing out of nowhere in the doorway. Ezra has been like an honorary fifth brother since we moved next door to his family when we were all kids. He’s also Jamie’s best friend and partner in crime, and—good and cheap for us—an architect.
“Yeah. Keep it up. It might put me off the idea of having kids for a bit longer,” Jase says.
That makes me laugh. “The way you and your wife go at it, it’s not when, it’s how many at once you’ll be having.”
“My wife does like multiples,” Jase says with a smirk.
“And on that TMI note, I will go get Cohen a coffee, if for no other reason than to get away from the ‘I’m a new
lywed getting too much sex’ conversation,” Bryant says before leaving for the kitchen.
“It’s not just newlyweds,” says Jamie under his breath. My head snaps his way, my eyes bugging out of my head at the revealing comment from my normally private big brother.
“Who knew April was a wildcat?” I muse, quiet enough for his ears only. Except Cohen, who I thought was dozing, gives a side-glance Jamie’s way, a knowing grin curving his lips.
Jamie’s eyes narrow at first me, then Co. Ezra sits between us and averts a disaster.
“So, are we going through it room by room to formulate a plan so I can finalize the drawings?” Ezra asks. Jamie nods, his expression morphing from annoyance to all business.
“Yep. We’ve got the moving truck ready to be picked up in a few hours and a jumbo dumpster being delivered at nine a.m., so if we go through rooms now and mark down what furniture and fittings are worth keeping, then we can make a start and get things moved out.”
We all stand just as Bryant comes back with Cohen’s coffee.
“I’m yours till twelve. Then I need to go home and crash. I’m not working tonight, but I doubt I’m going to be any use to you this afternoon,” Cohen says, taking the mug from our brother.
“Nice for some,” I tease, earning the finger. I stand and walk over to Bryant’s side. “That’s okay, Co. Your famous talented twin brothers will cover for you.”
The group starts laughing, Jamie and Ezra more than the others. “Since when has anyone called you two the ‘talented twins,’” Ez says with air quotes.
Normally, I’d reply with, “That’s not what insert woman’s name here said Saturday night,” but I don’t want to share what happened with my brothers right now.
Bryant turns his head as if expecting a smart-ass quip, and when it doesn’t come, he lifts a brow, his expression one of confusion. “Later,” I mouth, which just makes his frown deepen. I swear, this twin thing can be really fucking cool sometimes, but also, it makes it impossible for me to keep something to myself. It’s a blessing and a curse.
“Okay. Are we going to sit here with our fingers up our asses or are we actually going to get this show on the road?” Jase says, now leaning against the doorframe. “Because time is money, and I’ve got less time, and you guys should have less money. Let’s talk shit while we do inventory on the furniture and fittings. Then we can get to work.”
The rest of the guys stand, Cohen downing his coffee and placing his cup in my outstretched hand, and everyone except me moving toward Jase, who is holding out clipboards and strips of colored stickers. I quickly dump the mugs in the kitchen sink and return to the living room to find Bry waiting for me, clipboard and pen in hand and a wry smile on his dial. “Looks like we’re partners…”
“Again? Yeah, let’s team the twins together. Do they not think we spend enough time together?”
“I love you too, brother,” he says with a laugh. “This time, I volunteered to cover your ass so we can start in the attic and you can tell me what the fuck happened before.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hedge, walking past him toward the big, sweeping staircase. “Man, I can’t wait to get rid of this pink.”
“You’re changing the subject,” he says, his voice full of amusement.
“And when I’m ready to tell you anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“That makes no sense.”
“And neither does the color scheme of this Barbie Dream House. But you like what you like, right?” And right now, I’m wondering what my Barbie might be up to right now… or later. Maybe I should see if she wants to meet up for dinner or a drink. Maybe a drink is less of a big deal, to start with I mean.
“I can hear your brain turning from here. What’s up with you?”
I stop at the first landing and turn to meet his eyes. “It’s Ronnie, but this time, I want space to navigate the start of an adult relationship without pressure from Mom, Dad, our other brothers or friends. You’ll probably end up being my sounding board and voice of sanity when I need it, but until then, can you just—”
“Absolutely,” Bryant says. There’s absolutely no amusement or joking in his tone. “Just one thing though…”
I sigh, knowing it was too good to be true. “Yeah?”
“Can I at least laugh at the fact you said ‘adult relationship’ and were referring to yourself?” he asks, his lips twitching.
“Asshole,” I mutter, unable to hide the mirth in my voice.
“The asshole who always has your back,” he says, walking past me. “Now, let’s get this shit started.”
And that is all I needed to say, apparently, to get him off my back.
Twin brother, and best fucking friend ever.
It’s mid-afternoon, and between the now five of us—Cohen left at noon—we’ve chucked out all of the bad. All of the stuff deemed reusable or recyclable after a little love, is now packed in a moving truck for Bry and I to drive to the storage unit. My back is killing me, my arms have never been so tight, and my legs feel like jelly, but I feel alive. I’m actually really looking forward to getting stuck into demo with Jamie and Jase tomorrow after my morning class.
Thinking of school has me thinking about Ronnie, and how we didn’t make plans for seeing each other again. I know she’ll be in my Intro to Photography class on Monday, I just don’t want to wait that long.
With that in mind, I grab the truck keys from my pocket. “Bry, you’re driving. Catch,” I say, just before I throw them in his direction.
“Whoa, why am I driving now?”
“Because I’m tired and sore, and I need to catch up on emails,” I lie, hoping our twin sense isn’t activated right now.
Thankfully, he just shrugs and calls me a lightweight under his breath as he walks around the back of the truck to the driver’s side. Once we’re both inside the cab and buckled in, Bry starts up the engine, and a few moments later, we’re on our way to Cook Construction’s storage unit.
While Bry plays around with the radio, settling on a modern-rock station, I grab my phone and bring up Ronnie’s number.
Jax—Hey, Barbie.
Ronnie—Hey, Ken. How’s my Dream House?
Jax—Empty now. Bry and I are just transporting a truckload of things we’re keeping to our storage unit.
Ronnie—Did you keep the plastic-covered couch? I kind of had plans for that thing.
Jax—We did. Do tell me about these plans…
Ronnie—But we’re taking things slow, remember?
Jax—I didn’t say snail speed, and not acting on it doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it.
Ronnie—Is that all it takes? Suggestive texts?
Jax—All it takes is the thought of you naked on said couch and I’m done for.
Ronnie—I didn’t say naked… I could’ve meant cuddling while watching a movie.
Jax—Naked cuddling is a thing.
Ronnie—Let me guess, and the movie would be one of the adult variety.
Jax—Chick flick it is.
Ronnie—Of course. We can’t be corrupting the ambience of my Dream House.
I chuckle, earning Bry’s attention. “Who’s making you smile like an idiot?”
“Your mom.”
He snorts. “You know that comeback doesn’t work since she’s your mom too.”
I shrug but can’t stop myself from joining in his quiet laughter.
“Ready for class tomorrow?” he asks, changing the subject just as another text comes in.
Ronnie—What does a girl have to do to get her hot professor to ask her on a date?
You just breathing seems to do that.
I lick my lips, watching out the windscreen as we move from a residential to a commercial area.
“God, your attitude is positively nauseating,” Bry groans. “You’re smiling like it’s Christmas morning and you’ve already snuck a peek at the presents.”
Oh, if only you knew just how fantastic Ronnie’s present was under her wrapping.
“You’re just jealous you haven’t got a gorgeous woman texting you.”
“So, it’s a woman. That’s a good step forward for you. Maybe by the time you’re thirty-four you can lose that pesky virginity of yours.”
I flip him the bird, but that doesn’t stop me from smiling. “If you must know, it’s Ronnie.”
“Mmm hmm…”
“What does that mean?”
“I wondered how long it would take you to realize she went to our campus.”
My head jerks back and snaps in an Exorcist-esque twist toward my twin. “You knew?”
“Of course. Maybe if you’d actually talked to her before Saturday—”
“We weren’t exactly talking…”
“I mean since we first met her. You know she’s just upped her course load and added a few electives to round out her degree.”
“And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that one of those extra courses was photography?”
“I saw the class lists last week. I thought it would be more fun for you to find out for yourself.”
I wait for him to pull off the road and into the storage facility before I punch him in the arm.
He gives me the side-eye. “Ouch. What was that for?”
“You throwing me under the bus.”
“Since Ronnie has a legal background, I have no doubt she would’ve known about the non-frat policy—if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Again, how do you know this? I only found out from April on Monday night,” I say, huffing out a breath. “Am I the only one in the dark here?”
He brings the truck to a stop in the driveway outside our storage unit, then turns the wheel all the way to one side and hits reverse, expertly backing around. Shutting down the engine, he leans against the dash and spins to face me. “Okay, reality check, brother. You have been avoiding her for as long as you’ve known her. Either because she scares you or you didn’t want to rock the boat Jamie and April were building. Now that vessel is well and truly unsinkable, I thought you’d make your move, but no, you were running and hiding again at the engagement party.”