Finding the Magic (Tom Kelly's Boys Book 1) (7 page)

Chapter 10

Drake's brother and dad had just come in, and now that he let out that whistle, they knew right where to find us. I stared at the door, expecting the pair of them to come walking through it any second. I still pictured his dad with a parrot on his shoulder, and smiled inwardly at the thought.

"They've been gone for almost a month," he said. "We're having some people over."

"You already told me that," I said tentatively.

"I'm just trying to warn you that if you're not used to going out, you'll probably see some things that might seem shocking."

My second favorite thing to do after playing the piano was reading romance novels, and even though I didn't have much experience with partying as a real person, I'd been to tons of parties in my books and new all about the craziness that goes on.

"What are you warning me about?" I asked. "Drugs? Sex?"

"Yes and yes," he said. "It's safe to say you could be exposed to both of those if you stay here tonight."

I looked into his eyes, trying to understand why I just couldn't make myself leave even though he was clearly warning me off. "Will I be expected to
do
either of those?'" I asked, thinking it was a reasonable question.

"Not really, but it'd be nice if you volunteered for the one that's not drugs."

The door flung open, startling me and causing me to gasp and jump. Two grown men came into the room in a surge of testosterone. They were well dressed, and not at all filthy and sea-weary like I pictured they'd be.

Steven was right. The younger one looked just like Drake, only with shorter hair. It must have been a while since he shaved it because it was long enough to be messy, but it was nowhere near the length of Drake's. I stood there as they both hugged Drake. They laughed and said how good it was to be home.

Neither of them seemed to notice me at first, but then the dad, Tom Kelly, I assumed, looked at me with a sideways grin. He was a really handsome older gentleman. He was clean and tidy, wearing nice clothes with a fresh haircut that was perfectly styled. I was taken aback by the way he looked versus the way I thought Tom Kelly the pirate would look. This guy looked more like a business professional—like a movie star really.

Looking at Tom Kelly's face explained how his two sons were so gorgeous. Then his crooked smile broadened as he watched me take him in, and I couldn't help but notice he had a gold tooth. I tried not to stare at it, but there it was, plain as day. If it was possible to pull off a gold tooth, Tom Kelly did it. It somehow added to his appearance, and I smiled at myself for thinking it looked good on him.

He noticed that I was transfixed by his face, and winked at me like the seasoned flirt he was. I could tell by the way he took me in that he actually thought he had a chance with someone like me even though his two younger, gorgeous sons were standing there. I would have normally thought that was creepy, but Tom Kelly was too likeable of a character for me to hold it against him.

"Who's your friend?" he asked, looking at Drake.

"Addison Connor."

"How do you know Drake, Addison Connor?" Tom said, looking at me.

"I'm just trying to buy a table from him. One like my grandmother had when I was a kid. I just came over here to see if he could make it."

"And she's hanging out with me tonight," Drake interrupted, saving me from further ramblings. His dad and brother both gave him knowing smiles.

I watched as they interacted for the next few minutes. Maybe I was just nervous and things were going over my head, but they seemed to be talking about a business trip. Nothing they said made me suspicious in a piratey sort of way. Drake's brother looked a lot like him in the face, but spoke with an accent that I thought was Irish or Scottish. Their dad spoke like an American, and hearing them all interact was interesting since the tone of their voices was almost the same, but their accents were completely different.

"You all three have different accents," I said, stating the obvious when there was a break in the conversation.

"I came to live with Dad when I was ten," Drake said, "but Rory came when he was fifteen and I was seventeen. That's why he still speaks like a barbarian."

Rory threw an uppercut in Drakes general direction. "I'll have you know, an Irish accent sounds like a gentleman compared to those grunting sounds that come out of you Jamaicans."

"I don't even have an accent," Drake said.

I wanted to interject that he did in fact have one and that I quite liked the sound of it, but I kept quiet. I didn't think it sounded at all like grunting.

"The boys were born of two different mothers," Tom Kelly said to me, getting back to my original question. "Drake lived with his mom in Jamaica until she got sick. She contacted me when she thought she wouldn't make it much longer and we made arrangements to get him home. Just about the same thing happened with Rory—only his mom died in a car accident when he was fifteen. She couldn't contact me, due to the sudden nature of her death, but she told one of her friends who Rory's real father was, and he contacted me."

"How long ago was that?"

"I'm twenty-one and Drake's twenty-three if that's what yer gettin' at," Rory said.

I smiled at him briefly before looking back at Tom. "Did you know them before they came to live with you?" I asked.

"I had no idea they even existed," he said.

"There's probably a dozen more like us spread out across the Atlantic, but we're the only two Dad knows about."

"That's not entirely true," Tom said. "Someone told me there was a boy in Puerto Rico claiming to be my son a few years ago, but I never heard any more about it."

The boys didn't bother looking surprised or asking whether or not it could be true.

"Drake and Rory's mothers looked a lot alike if you were wondering how they came out looking like twins," Tom added.

I had rarely, if ever, heard a white person with a Jamaican accent and I wondered what his mother must have looked like.

Just then, Rory dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He smiled broadly when he read the screen.

"Nina's at the door with the girls," he said. "I'm gonna go help them in." He gave his dad and brother a satisfied expression as he put his phone back into the front pocket of his jeans.

"Nina's got a mobile massage therapy crew. Dad likes to have them come by after they've been on the boat for a while. They set up in the back bedroom where it's nice and quiet."

"I'll bet they do," I said giggling. I didn’t know what else to say to Nina and the girls being here to administer massages.

It was that moment I realized just how badly I wanted to be with Drake Kelly because I wasn't even discouraged by Nina's appearance. God help me, but if anything, it made me want him
more
.

Tom left to go check on the new arrivals, and I was once again left in the huge workshop alone with Drake.

"I think I'm gonna head on out," I said. "I think your brother made plans for you already." I was most definitely bluffing. I, under no circumstances, wanted to leave, and was hoping he'd beg me to stay.

He reached out and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me toward him with such force that I got off balance and sort of teetered toward him. I tried to recover, but he just pulled again, forcing me to fall into him. He helped me steady myself, leaving a hand at the small of my back. He rubbed me gently, and the movement made me shiver, which in turn made him smile.

"I thought we already established that you were hanging out here tonight. I don't care about letting Nina work on me if it makes you uncomfortable."

What was I supposed to say? Maybe it was old fashioned of me, but I didn't like the idea of my one night stand getting a pre-game massage, which was likely erotic, from a probably-gorgeous technician. Hell yes, it made me uncomfortable.

"I think I'll probably just head on out," I said, casually.

He pulled tighter on the grasp he had on my lower back, and I instinctually looked up at him. He studied me with those bottomless grey-blue eyes. "If you decided you don't want to stay here with me, then that's fine." He shrugged. "It would be kind of weird since you already said you were, but I guess I understand if you want to change your mind."

I had broken eye contact with him while he was speaking and he squeezed me again to get me to look at him. "Hey, I don't care about those girls," he said. "I knew they were coming when I asked you to stay here. Nothing's changed."

I smiled up at him and he studied my face for several seconds, concentrating on my mouth specifically for most of that time. I bit my lip. It wasn't fully intentional, although I guess it sort of was. I smiled at myself for doing it and he pulled me even closer to him. I was now officially pressed up against his body—his huge, rock hard, beautifully chiseled body. I knew the rise and fall of my chest was irregular, but there was nothing I could do to control my breathing under these circumstances. He smelled good, he looked amazing, and apparently he was into the idea of spending some time with me tonight—it was really an ideal scenario.

I thought back to earlier that day when I was looking through the wall and never in a million years would I have imagined winding up in his arms like this a few short hours later. It was literally a dream come true. I had dreamed and imagined him holding me like this from the very first time I saw him. I knew everything would come crashing to a halt as soon as the one-night stand was over, but I was so attracted to him that I just didn't care. Plus, Tom and Rory were both speaking plainly with me, and I was anxious to do a little more pirate recon.

I glanced up at him with what I hoped was my most irresistible face. "I think I'd like you to do without the massage tonight. Unless, of course, it's from me."

"I'm gonna kiss you now, Addie," he said. It didn't really surprise me because he had been staring at my mouth since we'd been standing there. He leaned down and put his mouth on mine in a not-so-gentle kiss that caused an instant burn inside me. I leaned upward and into him, encouraging him to continue.

He broke the kiss and looked at me with an unreadable expression, shaking his head slightly.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he said, nodding.

I thought he might say something about how tempting I was, but he didn't.

"The house is going to be full of people in a half hour or so. I'll need to take care of a little business with my dad and brother, but after that we can find a place where we can finish this."

He turned to head for the door, but I grabbed his arm. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"I need to take care of a few texts. Can I meet you in there in a minute?"

He hesitated, but then agreed. I wondered if he thought I might get into some of his stuff while he was out. I thought that was possible since we just met, but he agreed and left me in there alone. I typed out a text to Megan right away.

Me: "OMG. I'm here. He invited me to stay a while. It's all good. No worries."

I pressed send, and heard back from her within a few seconds.

Megan: "What?!? You're staying over there? You sure you're okay? I'm worried about you."

Me: "No really, I'm fine. I think Steven was wrong. Just a regular guy. I like him."

Megan: "OMG Addison Claire Connor, are you gonna sleep with him?"

I laughed out loud that she actually typed out my birth-given name.

Me: "I might."

Megan: "Be careful."

Me: "Okay Mom."

Megan: "Have fun."

Me: "That's more like it. Not sure what time I'll be back, but don't worry about me."

The last thing I wanted was for her to get concerned and barge in to rescue me since she knew where he lived.

Megan: "You looked beautiful when you left. Be safe, have fun, and love you."

I smiled at her message, thinking how much I loved her too. I typed out a final text that told her so (with several choice emojis) and then put my phone back into the small bag that was strapped across my body. While my hand was in there, I went ahead and fished out the powder compact that I kept with me for moments just like this. I opened it, and carefully inspected my face and teeth in the teeny tiny mirror.

I took a deep, calming breath as I gathered my wits to go into the living room. I couldn't
believe
this was actually happening. It felt like a dream. It didn't matter that I'd just discovered him; he was at rock star status in my mind. I was crazy about him, and it was even worse now that I'd officially met him and he was better than I imagined.

I was giddy with anticipation as I made my way down the long hallway toward the living room.

Chapter 11

I heard the sound of guys' voices as I walked, but no sound of Nina or her girls. I had a whole chain of thoughts where I felt guilty for a second about what I was about to do and then I told myself this whole thing was more about spying on pirates, and that I could just take it for the team. I knew how ridiculous that was, and I was smiling at the thought when I came to the edge of the hallway where I could see the guys. All three of them looked my way when my movement caught their attention.

"Did those girls get here yet?" I asked. I grabbed the back of my neck as if to rub away some pain. "I could use a little work right here." I smiled after I said it to let them know I was joking and they all three laughed.

"I for one would
love
to see Nina give ye a massage," Rory said. Drake slapped at his brother with the back of his hand, and Rory made a face like,
what was that for
. "What? Don't act like ye don't want to see it too."

"Quit playin'. She was just messin' around," Drake said. He looked at me with a teasing half-smile. "I'd like to see her play the piano."

"Do you play the piano?" Tom said.

The blood left my face. Sometimes I blush and sometimes I go pale, and this was one of those times when I went pale. I could feel the blood draining from my head. I felt like I needed to sit down, but resisted the urge.

Drake and I met eyes, and he must have sensed my panic, because he instantly put a hand in the air to snap his fingers.

"I forgot you left your drink outside," Drake said. I hadn't even been outside, but was thankful for the excuse to leave the room. Playing for Alan Ritchie while he reads the newspaper at Sunday brunch was way different than playing for three strapping men who you just met and who already made me really nervous. I gave him a thankful smile for rescuing my nonexistent drink and crossed to the kitchen to follow him outside.

As I made my way through the kitchen, I noticed a small leather briefcase sitting on the beautiful marble countertop in plain sight of me, and God, and everybody. It wasn't the briefcase that shocked me. It was the item that was resting on top of it.

A skull.

A human skull. I cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, that there was a human skull sitting on the counter. Right there.

I could not stop myself from catching glimpses of it as I passed. They must have seen me doing it, but no one seemed to care or tried to hide it. I followed Drake onto the patio and he closed the sliding glass door behind us.

"I thought I saw a skeleton, a bone, a head bone—you know, a skull. I thought I saw a skull in there just now. Did you see that?" I asked as we walked out. I was just freaked out about the piano thing enough to start rambling.

He pulled me over into a little nook several feet from the front door and turned to face me with a sweet smile. "Were you okay in there?" he asked. "You scared me. I'm so sorry I mentioned playing in front of them. I was just trying to get Rory to shut up about you and Nina."

I shrugged. "It's no big deal," I said. I really didn't even care about the piano thing anymore. The breaking news in my brain was skull, skull, and more skull, and I wanted desperately to know more about it. "I might sit at the piano a little later when no one's expecting it. It helps if it's my idea and I don't feel the pressure of an audience. But, what I was wondering about was if you saw that skull thing in there. That's cool." I added the
that's cool
part to make it seem like I was interested in it in a science-y way.

"That's what happens when you mess with my dad," he said. The hint of a smile crossed his lips, but he certainly didn't seem like he was joking.

"So your dad killed that guy?" I asked. I tried to say it lightly to give him the opportunity to laugh it off if he wanted to, but he remained fairly expressionless as he paced around absentmindedly on the stained concrete of the patio.

He looked at me and smiled. "Yeah, he killed him," he said. "It's only the beginning of what you'll get exposed to here, so I figured I might as well tell you the truth on that one."

I thought for a second before I responded. I couldn't say it didn't surprise me, so I just said, "I'm good as long as mine stays on my shoulders." I realized after I said it that it was a stupid, probably suspicious thing for me to say, but he just smiled and reached out to grab me. He started to pull me in, but just then, some commotion in the house caught both of our attention.

It was Nina and the emmer effing girls. Counting Nina, there were three of them, and they were already making themselves at home in the kitchen. They all three had on cute, trendy clothes and were dolled up to the max. My stomach sank at the sight of them, and I had to remind myself that the only thing I could control was that very moment, and there was no reason I shouldn't just decide to make the most of my one night.

I fell into sync with Drake and sort of just tagged along with him for the next few hours even though there were fifteen or so other people in the house. We stayed by the pool for quite a while, and I tried to get a look at the crack in the wall. I knew approximately where it would be, but there wasn't any light coming through, and I couldn't see an opening.

Standing out there, looking for the crack made it hit me that looking through the wall from Megan's backyard was infringement of privacy. For some reason, it didn't hit me like that when I was the one looking
into
this backyard, but now that I was on the other side of this wall, I hated feeling like I might be being watched. I knew Megan wouldn't do it, but what if Steven happened to be looking back here and could see me?

Drake had been extremely attentive to me all night. He was a true gentleman who made me feel comfortable and wanted, and he gave me just enough PDA so that everybody knew I was there with him, but not so much that we were trying to go at it right there like several other people were doing. He seemed to want to keep me at arm's reach all night, and I was fine with that. I had no problem whatsoever focusing my attention on him. He was more beautiful and interesting to me than anyone else at the party, and the fact that he wanted to keep me close had me smiling all night.

I had a good time with them all. They asked me about myself, and I told them most of the truth, leaving out the part where I was traumatized about performing. Interacting with his family and friends was so much fun regardless of whether or not they were dreaded pirates.

Okay, so I was pretty sure they were involved in less than honest business dealings based on some of the conversations I heard, but who was I to judge, right? They were really nice people—to each other and me at least, and it was the most normal I'd felt since December. I wanted to enjoy it.

It was Sunday and most of the party went home by ten that evening. There were still a few of us hanging out in the living room when Rory and a girl named Gina left so she could give him his long-awaited massage. Tom sat at the head of the gorgeous table Drake made playing dominoes with a few other guys. He had the skull sitting right there on the table next to him and a massage girl was perched on his knee.

I took a mental snapshot, thinking about how excited Steven would be to hear about my experience there that evening. I could just imagine him cussing up a storm at me and asking me to hear the story again.

"What are you smiling at?" Drake asked. I was sitting next to him on the couch, but we weren't touching.

"I was just thinking I had fun tonight," I said. "Thanks for having me over."

"You say that like you're leaving."

"No, I mean not yet at least… unless you need me to." He stared at me—his stormy blue eyes searching mine.

"Would you please quit trying to leave? Because I'm not letting you." He pulled my leg so that it pressed up against his.

I cocked my head at him. "Are you saying I couldn't leave, even if I
wanted
to?"

"Do you want to?"

"No."

"Then it doesn't matter."

"Yes it does," I insisted. "It totally matters."

"Why?"

"Because I need to know I could just leave whenever I wanted."

"Yeah, that's not true," he said. He seemed totally serious and I stared at him curiously.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"I mean I've already got my heart set on you staying the night with me, and it's just not good with me if you go."

"But I could, right? I mean, you wouldn't
stop
me if I wanted to leave, right?"

He shot me that beautiful, easy smile. "Do you want to go, Addie?"

I was silent for a second. "No."

"Then, it's not an issue, is it?"

I shrugged. "I don't guess it is, no. But for the record, I could just stand up and walk out the door if I wanted to."

"Please don't want to."

Everything he did and said made me want him more. I wanted to do anything I could to make some sort of impression. I'd been waiting for the opportunity to play the piano for him on my terms, and now was the moment. I knew exactly what piece I would play, and felt confident that I had just the right mix of alcohol, excitement, and confidence to pull off a few minutes. I chose a piece that was flashy enough to impress him, but not enough to make me seem like a total show off. I was feeling it, and knew before I even started that I would be fine.

I bent over the piano in the same hunched-over manner I always did, and preceded to play the shit out of that piece. I played quietly so I wouldn’t disturb Tom and his friends who were across the room. It took me about four minutes to play the section of music I chose. I could see Drake's outline from the corner of my eye, but I paid no attention to him.

For four minutes, it was just the piano and me, and I was glad it worked out that way because it felt really good to totally freaking nail it in front of him. I looked up, adjusting my posture as I made eye contact with Drake. He just stood there and stared at me with an unreadable expression that slowly shifted into a smile.

"Holy fuckin' shit," I heard someone yell from across the room. "What's up Drake, you bringing Mozart in here or what?"

It was one of the other guys at the table who said it, but Tom Kelly stood up and walked toward us. "Did you know she could do that?" he asked Drake as he approached.

"No."

"Are you some kind of prodigy or something," he asked, looking at me.

"I used to be," I said simply. I stood and crossed to stand near Drake. His dad had already made his way over to where Drake was standing, and they both stood there watching me walk toward them.

Drake reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into his arms. "I can't believe that just happened," he said. "What the hell just came out of your arms?" He put his hands on my shoulders and ran them down my arms.

Tom Kelly pointed right at me as he turned to go back to the table. "That was beautiful," he said.

I smiled at the compliment and turned to look up at Drake. He took advantage of the situation and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin at the top of my cheek near my eye.

"You're officially trapped," he said, putting his arms around me and giving me a little squeeze.

"I'm not scared," I whispered.

"That's your first mistake."

"Why? Are you dangerous?"

"Very."

It was obvious by the way we were speaking to each other that neither of us wanted me to leave. Our expressions conveyed our mutual desire. "I'm gonna love you right tonight, Addie. And I can tell you need that." I drew a breath at the thought of him
loving me right,
whatever that meant.

He took my hand and put it under his shirt, resting it on his ribs. I felt the firm muscles in his side, and glanced up at him wondering why he randomly placed my hand under his shirt.

His eyes were closed as if he was concentrating on the sensation as he held my hand in place with his. "Yeah, I need more of that. I don't think I can make it much longer without you getting your hands on me," he said.

I drew in another shaky breath. I was weak with desire. He was so scorching hot that it was all I could do to keep my hand from starting to roam right there in the living room. He tugged me out of the room. I saw him turn to give his dad a wave, but I didn't look back. It was obvious where we were going, which I found slightly embarrassing, so I just kept my head down and followed Drake.