A Perfect Mess (14 page)

The whole guy thing with girls was so naturally physical, physical confrontation was inevitable. Guys had only one goal with girls, gettin’ them some, and other guys were well aware of that concept, and that’s why they got so pissed off. So when Langston had started talking like he’d nailed her, I’d called him out. It hadn’t taken more than a fist in his face to solve the problem, but a pattern had been set.

Aubree Walker was Mission Impossible. When she’d left for college after what had happened on Wild Magnolia Road, I had gone a little crazy, angry crazy. I knew there were guys in college. A whole hellava lot of guys, and all of them would want her.

I knew exactly what I wanted.

And now here she was, so damn close. The intoxicating floral scent of her perfume couldn’t mask the fundamental female scent of warm skin and soft breath, of the back of her neck and the lace of her bra and panties, unmentionables wrapped around just the curves I wanted to get my mouth on.

And she was going to let me.

With our eyes locked, hers filled with that wonderful shine, desire building between us, with the night a tantalizing tease, and years of fascination behind us, she told me she wanted me.

Geezus. I didn’t know if I had it in me—to kiss her this time. It was like Russian roulette. To just kiss her. I’d done it at my house and upstairs last night, but she’d broken down, and the emotions I’d felt then swamped me again.

She was plastered against me, just where I wanted this girl to be. No-air kind of tight. The heat of her hands on my arms quickly and savagely spread, covering the whole front of my body…a good portion of it settling in my junk, which wasn’t going to do either of us any good, because we had things to do.

I had an unobstructed view down her shirt. I tried to look away. But she was so lovely, the purple lace of her bra working overtime, the nape of her neck beneath my hand, soft and exposed, red tendrils of her hair lying like a mysterious treasure map to the riches of her.

I lifted my free hand and cupped the sweet line of her jaw, but this time when I lowered my mouth, I still didn’t feel close enough. My mouth angled over hers, teasing her, and tasting her, and sucking enough to let her know this was just getting started between us.

Geezus, she had a beautiful mouth. I loved the way she moved it over mine, as if the sensation was something she needed to survive.

Yeah, she’d grown up since I’d punched out Damien Langston for his boasting lies at Aubree’s expense. She knew where we were going this time. It was clear from the way she was clinging to me that she had decided I was the guy to take her there.

I broke the kiss, but she didn’t open her eyes for a few moments. When she did, they were glazed.

“See,” she said softly against my lips. “A black hole.”

“Well, if you don’t get going, this rocket is going to achieve liftoff and the both of us will be catapulted into outer space.”

I let her go, but slowly, every molecule of my body protesting the separation.

She backed away like I was some unpredictable jungle cat who would leap if she moved too quickly. I don’t think she was far off the mark.

She grabbed her Einstein bag and keys. “Lock up when you leave. Do you remember the code? I know it’s a lot of numbers.”

I chuckled. “I remember it.”

“I’ll see you tonight, then?”

“‘Gator wrestling. Bring your bikini.”

“Yeah, I’ll be wrestling with a ‘gator all right, the two-legged variety.”

I lunged and she laughed and closed the door in my face.

I had to wonder if she’d hooked up with anyone else. Was that even my business? Well, actually in this case, I would say yes. A guy needed to know when a girl was a virgin. That was important information. It could mean the difference between a good first time or a disaster.

Maybe that was one of the reasons I was resisting, here. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to know.

Now that was a fucking Catch-22.

Chapter Seven

“Ma!” I barged through my mother’s front door and headed down the hall. I peeked in the kitchen, but she wasn’t there.

“I’m in here.”

She came around the corner of the living room and, as we met in the hall, she gave me a hug. Her face looked more serene than I had ever seen it. The house I’d built for her, to her specifications, also sat on the bayou, only a few miles from mine.

There was a black mat was in front of the picture window.

“Yoga?”

“Yes, it’s very relaxing. You should try it.”

“Bend myself into a pretzel. Uh, uh. Running works for me.”

She laughed. “What brings you by, son?”

“I was wondering if you would like to go to the Greek Isles.”

She gave me a sassy look. “Is that a trick question?”

I tilted my head. “Are you getting feisty with me?” It’s what she’d always said to me when I was young and…mouthy.

“Hey, got to get my payback where I can. Of course, I would love to go, but weren’t you planning that as a research trip?”

“I was.”

“You’re not writing that book anymore?”

“No, I’m still writing it. Something’s come up and I need to postpone it, but I have this ticket and this great tour. I would hate to see it go to waste.”

She walked up to me. “Booker, is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” Nothing that Aubree Walker couldn’t fix.

“Is this about that Walker girl being home for the summer?”

I shifted and looked away. Did moms have some kind of radar or something?

“How is her aunt, by the way? She’s been so good to you.”

“She’s hanging in there. The doctors are optimistic.”

“That’s a relief. I stopped by the hospital yesterday to pay a visit and brought fresh flowers for her room. I know half the stuff she bought from me at the flea market was trash, but it helped so much. At least when she wakes up she’ll have something pretty to look at.”

She brushed at the hair on my forehead and I felt twelve all over again.

“I’m not a kid anymore.”

“No, you’re not, you’re a man, but sometimes feelings don’t die, even if you want them too.” She was talking about my dad, and that was another sore subject I didn’t want to delve into. She still loved him. Why? That was beyond me, but I could see it in her face.

That was the thing about my ma. She could have gotten lost in a bottle or become bitter or check out, but she hadn’t. She’d put three squares on the table every single day for us. She read to us, she tucked us in, and even though our clothes were shabby, they were clean. She never wavered, and she’d only let it get to her when she thought we weren’t looking. Kids might be naïve, but we weren’t dumb. She more than deserved to have this simple little house by the bayou, and to never have to work another day in her life, if I had anything to say about it. Now she did what she wanted to do.

“And moms don’t stop loving their boys because they turn into men. So get used to it, mister.”

“What if I said it is about her? What would you tell me to do?”

She folded her arms and walked to the picture window. “What I always tell you to do, my boy. Follow your heart and everything else will fall into place.

“Even after all these years, ma?”

She looked over her shoulder at me. “Yes, Booker. Even after all these years.”

#

“WTF,” Langston roared as he exploded out the back door of the diner and ran right into me. I was standing against the wall, my shoulder propped, one ankle crossed over the other.

“Hello, Danny boy.” My words were casual, but an undertone of frost underscored each syllable.

He looked behind him, sweat beading on his forehead. “How did you get back here so fast?”

“Maybe because that wasn’t me giving you the evil eye in front of the diner. In case you didn’t know. I have two brothers…and we’re, ah, triplets.” I grinned at him.

“Book? You got this?” Boone peeked around the back fence and sneered at Langston.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” he asked looking like he wanted to take a few swings at Langston himself.

“Yes, I’m sure, Boonie. The day I can’t take Langston one-on-one is the day I need to drown myself in the swamp.”

“Good. Use my digits when you’re done.”

“Will do, Ma.”

He snorted and sauntered off.

I let a slow, deceptive grin spread across my face. “Why did you run? Guilty conscience?”

“What do you want, Outlaw?” he asked tightly.

I reached for every bit of flinty steel I had in me. “Stop texting Aubree.”

Something ugly flashed in Langston’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I was off the wall so fast he didn’t have a chance to react. I shoved him up against the side of the diner, my forearm across his throat. “You do know what I’m talking about, you piece of shit.” I said between clenched teeth.

He didn’t say anything else, and I shoved against his throat.

“This is harassment. I’ll tell the sheriff,” he croaked.

“I don’t give a damn. Tell the sheriff. Do you think the law means anything to me? My last name isn’t Outlaw for nothing. And what you’re doing to Aubree is harassment, Langston. This?” and I shoved him again just for good measure. “This is a warning in the only language you understand.”

I stepped back. “Stop. Texting. Aubree. There. I said it real slow for you, so you’ll get it.”

He glared at me, hatred in his eyes. I didn’t give a damn about that, either.

I turned and walked away. “You’re going to regret this, Outlaw.”

“Whatever.”

As I came through the alley, Boone and Braxton were standing there. “What’s going on here? I said I had it.”

Boone’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and he slanted a look at me as he fell into step alongside me with Braxton boxing me in on the other side. We strode through town that way as people gave us wary glances.

“Hey, we’re just loitering. Nuttin’ to do with you,” Boone said.

“Yeah, it’s always about you, Book. Conceited, much?” Brax said.

“Sure about that, huckleberries?” I gave them both a knowing look. There was a time in my past that I had been double-teamed by the Langstons. I had never said, but my brothers just knew. They had been so pissed at me, but their anger was fueled by their love for me. They were my support, my best friends, tied together by blood and strife. I was one lucky fucker to have them. Guys hated talking about love, even brotherly love. Affection was always tied to good-natured ribbing. I grabbed Brax around the neck. “Your time could be put to better use. I’m still waiting for my ooey gooey chocolate chip cookies made with
just
the right amount of your tender-loving Betty Crocker care.”

He punched me in the ribs and pain and surprise made me huff an amused breath. “Aww, Braxxie, was that a love tap?” When I let go, he grinned at me and swung at me with an open hand that I ducked. I swung at him in retaliation. But Brax was way too fast. He danced out of my range.

“It will be hard to eat chocolate chip cookies with broken teeth, smart-ass.”

“Is that so? I think you’re going to need backup. I hear Betty’s a pretty good scrapper. Watch out when she takes off that apron,” I said deadpan, and he did exactly what I knew he would. He charged me, and took me down onto the grassy knoll outside of city hall. All three of us laughing like idiots.

Boone just stood there like a referee with a full Outlaw grin on his face, his hands on his hips as Brax and I wrestled for supremacy. Finally, I pinned him, which wasn’t an easy task, and he conceded this fight, but not the war.

“Should have called, Betty,” I said as he shoved me and laughed.

We reclined in the grass. “Do you think he’ll stop?” Boone asked.

“He’d better.”

“Yeah, right. I think there’s a future can of triple-whammy-whup-ass with that bastard’s name on it, just waiting to be opened.” Brax said with relish.