Chapter Ten
Avery’s arm was falling asleep. Too bad his dick wasn’t.
There wasn’t much room in the oversized recliner, the only spot available after supper when he and Jo finished helping clean up, at her insistence, of course.
And he was pretty sure his mom had something to do with the seating arrangements.
He’d tried to get Bryce to trade, but he’d laughed and said something about making a bed and lying in it and not messing with Mom.
Thirty minutes into the movie, Jo’d passed out. The TV blared in surround sound as bombs exploded and cars crashed on the screen. How the hell could she sleep through the noise?
He pulled her higher on his chest, then adjusted his hips to ease the bite of his zipper on his cock.
The telltale sting of blood flowing back into his arm had him clenching and unclenching his fingers.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to stop the blood from flowing south to his already hard dick.
It had been that way all fucking day, with only one respite.
After the incident in the hall, he’d rubbed one out to take the edge off, but he hadn’t cured the problem.
The moment their performance started, he’d been in trouble.
But for the rest of the day, he’d followed the new rules Jo set, and his mom, along with the rest of the family, had bought every touch.
Hook, line, and fucking sinker. Which was good and bad.
And not just because he couldn’t control his body’s reaction to something so basic as fucking holding her hand.
Over lunch, his mom had grilled Jo about her family, where she was from, where she developed a love for baking. Every answer had come back to her grandma, no one else, no mention of a mom or the father she called Walt. Her grandma raised her. Her grandma taught her how to bake. And…
“My grandma used to call my hometown the devil’s armpit,” she said.
“Probably because it’s full of sink holes and natural springs that stink of sulfur.
She claimed it’s also full of sinners who can never leave, and if the good stay too long, they’re in jeopardy”—she emphasized the town’s name with air quotes—“of damnation.”
“Guess that means you’re one of the good ones,” his dad said, “’cause you got out.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, laughing and shaking her head. “But I’m fighting really hard not to go back.”
Avery had never heard his mom squeal, but she did as she reached for Jo’s hand. “I know that legend. I grew up in Sour Lake. We were rivals with the Jeopardy Red Devils.” She turned to Laine. “Remember, we used to go through Jeopardy when we went to see my parents.”
His dad laughed. “Yeah, and as soon as we hit the city limits sign, the boys used to fight over who cut the cheese.”
Avery remembered that and his great granddad, but not much of his granny. She died when he was little. The conversation changed as nostalgia pulled his family together for a moment of shared memories. It also bonded his mom to Jo, which worried him a little.
The idea was to convince his family he and Jo were dating, not have his family fall in love with her. No more visits home until after he and Jo went their separate ways. They’d have to talk about that soon, how it would happen and the excuse they’d use.
Glancing down at her, he nearly groaned at the memory of how she’d responded to him earlier today. And to think, he’d thought she was immune.
Nah, she wanted him. She just didn’t want to want him. But the Sigmas’ warnings rang in his head, reminding him that was a challenge for another lifetime. Taking this where it shouldn’t go would ruin what they had.
But what if it didn’t?
That dangerous question led to images of her in his bed, her skin bare and glistening with sweat, hair damp and splayed over his chest from a long, hard fuck. He fingered the ends of her silky waves—dark brownish red with fire streaking through it.
She stirred, burrowed deeper into him, sliding one leg higher, and sighed. His dick flexed against her thigh at the breathy sound of satisfaction.
Fuck. Soon couldn’t come soon enough. He needed to get her out of his head.
No, you need pussy that doesn’t come with rules.
Funny, the plan was that she would come without complications, but he was quickly learning just how very complicated she was.
The lights came up, and Bryce’s hand clamped down onto his shoulder. Avery looked at the screen. Credits were rolling. The others were milling about. He’d missed the end of the movie. Not that he cared. He’d seen it.
“We’re heading out, but don’t get up on our account,” Bryce said, his voice low then wagged a finger at him and Jo and mouthed, “Fucking toast.”
The reference to Gage’s prediction were so far off the mark that Avery shot him the finger and whispered, “Thanks for coming. Now, get the fuck out.”
Bryce chuckled and left Avery wondering how long he should let Jo sleep.
She stretched against him, and his mind went blank as her pussy ground against his hip.
Her head lolled back against his arm, and he smiled at the button imprint on her cheek.
She blinked as if her eyelids were too heavy, then drifted shut.
Her mouth formed a soft smile, and once again, he was back in his bed with her, legs entwined, black sheets draped over the swell of her hip.
“You coming in tomorrow?” Nick asked, his tone deep and hushed as if taking his cue from Bryce but still managing to startle him out of thoughts he shouldn’t be having, as if he was seven years old and caught with his hands in the cookie jar.
“Yeah.” The Whitaker numbers kept changing, and he and his team had been working around the clock, trying to figure out why.
Tuesday night’s dinner was supposed to give him some insight into the problem, but he’d left as frustrated as before.
“I gave everyone the weekend off though. If I wasn’t working today, I didn’t expect them to. ”
Nick nodded. “Check in with me when you get in.”
“Sure.” Fuck. Now, what did I do wrong? Or is he just keeping tabs on me?
Avery thrummed his fingers on the armrest, silently calculating debits and credits. He’d been over every balance sheet, profit and loss report, and budget they sent over so many times, he had them memorized.
Thump, thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Maybe he’d pissed off Whitaker’s accountant. Fucking guy didn’t know his liabilities from his assets…or his ass.
He felt the moment Jo woke. Every muscle in her body stiffened. Her head snapped up, those stunning blue eyes rounded, and her cheeks were stained a pretty shade of pink. The softness around her mouth tightened as she braced one hand on his stomach and propped herself up.
He grunted, his abs contracting to support her slight weight. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”
Her frantic gaze darted around the room, then zeroed in on him. “Sorry.”
He grunted again when she pushed off him, missing his dick by a fraction, and one of her boots connected with his shin as she climbed awkwardly to her feet.
“Fuck.”
“Sorry. Sorry.” Tugging her sweater into place, she looked down at him, mortification written all over her face. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Avery levered the recliner upright and ran a hand over his face. She wasn’t the only one tired. He glanced over his shoulder. His dad was kicked back and snoring in the other recliner, but everyone else had disappeared. “It’s okay.”
“I was up at three to get the mille-feuille going.”
Palming the back of her knees, he drew her between his thighs. “Jo, it’s fine. It added to the illusion.”
“Right.” But the pink of her cheeks flushed red, and she backed out of his grasp as Spencer entered from the front hall, Marcus on his heels rubbing his hands together, both wearing coats.
“It got chilly out there,” Spencer said, blowing into his hands.
“We were seeing Nick off,” Marcus said easily as they headed for the kitchen, but Avery heard the hitch in his brother’s voice he got when he was lying.
Since when did Nick need seeing off? More likely, they were talking about something they didn’t want him to hear. Something concerning the company? Or did it have something to do with the ass chewing he’d probably get from Nick tomorrow? Or just the new bond they’d formed.
Face it, dude. You’re odd man out now.
Shaking off the twinge of whatever the fuck he was feeling—anger? jealousy? isolation?—he turned back to where Jo stood. “You ready to go?”
’Cause he sure as fuck was. He stood, his legs stiff from sitting in one position too long.
She nodded. “I’ll get my things.”
“I’ll start the truck.”
The wind out of the north had picked up for one last freeze before spring took over, and he’d left his coat in the truck.
Just as well. He needed to cool down. But she’d freeze in the flimsy blue jean jacket she brought, so he pulled the truck closer to the house and took a moment to fire off the money he owed her for the day.
When he returned to the kitchen, Melody and Charlotte were arguing over who was keeping the remaining petit fours, Marcus shoved the last bun thing into his mouth, and Spencer was hording all the cookies. They were his favorite, too.
“One macaroni for the road.” He snatched one from the box and bit into it before Spencer could close the lid.
“Macaroni?” Marcus laughed. “It’s macaron, dumbass.”
“Language,” Mom chastised with a chuckle and hugged Avery close. “Thank you for bringing Jo. She’s a pleasure.”
He winked at Jo and smiled as she turned red again under his mom’s praise. “She’s all right.”
Jo rolled her eyes. “I see how it is.” She wagged a finger. “I put some aside for you, but maybe I should give them to Spencer.”
He stepped behind her and reached around for a bun. “What if I promise to be a good boy?”
She snorted and swatted his hand. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Fuckboy. Yeah, he could hear the phrase on the tip of her tongue.
“She knows you well,” Melody teased.
Not as well as I’d like.