Lana
Love seems to highlight everything that’s undesirable. I love Bates, but I’m not a fan of sneakiness and secrets. I shouldn’t have to feel like a criminal for following my heart — the same heart that pounds like a thief’s with every glance I steal.
I pretend I’m fire-gazing instead of looking straight through the fire pit’s flames to where Bates is sitting opposite. He catches me staring, and the heat between us intensifies before he shifts his attention to his boots and laughs with Martha about something Dad just said.
I can hardly concentrate on the conversation. I’m too excited that I may have found the best way to flirt without being caught. The positioning of our camping chairs provides an excellent opportunity for a silent and private, steamy exchange with Bates.
I slowly open my legs to display the wet crotch I’m sporting from his cum soaking my jeans.
Only he can see the darkened denim, and it’s not long before he pulls off his woolen hat and lays it in his lap.
He acts as if he’s running his hand through his hair, but he’s definitely hiding an erection.
He’s also trying to focus on anything that’s not between my legs, but he barely looks away before his eyes are back again, taking their fill.
“So the pump’s fixed?” Martha asks between mouthfuls.
With a frown, Bates reluctantly tears his gaze from my jeans.
“Uh… yeah. Yes. Good to go,” he says before clearing the roughness from his voice with a fake cough. He pounds his chest a little to sell the gruff sound as something other than desire. “Fucking cold tonight,” he mutters, throwing another log on the fire.
“Good.” Martha eases back in her chair with a swig of beer. “The pump, not the cold. Fuck the cold. And fuck Reed for returning our equipment in shit condition.”
“To be fair, it was near-dead when we let him borrow it,” Bates reminds her.
“By the look of it, he had to do some twisted shit to keep her alive as long as he did. She’s all straightened out now, though.
Purring like a kitten,” he says proudly.
“All ready to wash rocks for the old glitter dispenser. I’ll haul it down there in the morning, chief. ”
Martha sits a little taller and glances at Dad.
“Seriously? You’re letting me stay as head supervisor? Even with Kelly here?”
“Yes,” Bates replies before Dad can fuck it up.
“Frees me up to do more maintenance than repairs. Have you seen the state of our fleet? It’s embarrassing.
I’m always so busy rushing between fixes and shutdowns that I never have the time to take care of shit the way I want to.
Time for a change. Isn’t that right, Hawk? ”
“Uh, yeah.”
Martha snorts in his direction. “Nice enthusiasm.”
“Huh?” Dad looks up from his gazing at the fire. “Sorry. I was somewhere else.”
“Were you with a pretty young woman down in Dawson?” I tease.
Dad takes my beer away from me. “No more for you.”
“Interesting…” Martha leans in. “Spill the tea, Dad. Bitten by the lovebug again?”
“No,” he says, a little too quickly. “I’m too old for that shit. Your sister’s just being a know-it-all jerk. Wait till you hear what she said about you.”
Martha narrows her eyes at me. “What’d you say, Baker?”
“Baker-Hawkins,” I say calmly. “Don’t disown me because you know it’ll be a truth-bomb you’re not ready to hear.
And I’d like the record to state that it was merely an observation made in good spirit and with love.
I only intended for it to illustrate my point in that particular discussion, not to be used as a grenade in this one. ”
Bates’s chair creaks as he eases backward. “Is this about to be family-only shit I don’t need to hear?” He looks around our small group. “Someone say yes so I can leave this uncomfortable post-dinner chat and go to bed.”
“You are family, doofus,” Martha says, not taking her eyes off me. “But it may be best not to have witnesses if there’s going to be a murder. How am I going to take this, Lana? Will I want to kill you?” she demands to know as she’s glaring between me and my father.
I hold up my hands. “Okay, let me de-escalate this shit quickly. Dad’s just passing the buck so he doesn’t have to admit to us — or himself — that he is indeed in love again, and it’s with a woman who is young enough to make him feel very uncomfortable about his feelings.”
“Lana,” he warns, at the same time Martha leans forward asking, “Who?”
“Best we get this out in the open before she gets here tomorrow, Dad. That way we can be your wingmen — people. Wing-people. It’s Sadie Lawrence,” I reveal without delay.
Beer sprays from Martha’s mouth, and it hisses over the fire. Bates covers his face, and I don’t know if he’s laughing or crying, but his shoulders are shaking with it.
Martha’s quick to fact-check me. “Sadie Lawrence, Dad? Little Sadie Lawrence? Who I babysat?”
Dad groans and folds his head into his hands.
“I know. I’m fucking disgusting. I was on the Christmas committee with her last year, and we spent a lot of time untangling lights together.
I just… ugh, I’m going to throw up. When I’m around her, I forget about everything except for how much I like her, and then I remember her in fucking pigtails and want to kill myself. ”
He swallows back the rest of his beer in a rush, and two seconds later, he’s puking in the garbage, moaning about what a “sick fuck” he is before crying “twenty-fucking-five” like it’s the devil’s number.
Bates, Martha, and I all look at each other.
“Twenty-five is a grown-ass woman,” I say, speaking for all of us.
“It’s not like you wanted to date her before last Christmas — a timeline that makes sense now you mention it.
You definitely had a bug up your ass during the Hawkins family holiday week.
I just didn’t know it was a lovebug.” I giggle, and Martha shakes her head at me.
“Don’t joke at a time like this, Lana. Look at him.
He fucking hates himself.” She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Dad, it’s fine.
Nobody’s that surprised. Every woman you’ve ever loved since Mom has been twenty-fucking-five when you’ve met her.
There’s a reason. You’re fucking trapped in time, and just because your body gets older, doesn’t mean your mind isn’t still stuck in your twenties trying to get to the happy-ever-after you lost when your plans first got shattered.
Sit your ass down, and stop wasting good fucking steak. ”
She extends a finger of accusation toward me. “Tell me what you fucking said about me.”
“Promise you won’t thump me for it,” I reply, having encountered this kind of scenario before.
“No,” she refuses. “Kelly will have to tear me off your bloody corpse if it’s as bad as what you just did to Dad.”
“I only did that to help him normalize and deal with it. You think I like seeing him like this?” I point at Dad’s sickly pale face.
“You think I enjoy watching him waste his opportunities for happiness over and over again? I’m an efficiency expert and his daughter — it fucking kills me.
I’ve never once actually seen him happy, and I don’t think he can do it on his own, Martha. ”
The finger comes back, and she has tears in her eyes. “I hate it when you do that. You’re always fucking right, and I hate it. You’re going to make me cry, and I haven’t cried since I saw you last time, you fucking button-pusher.”
I raise my hands in surrender. “I swear, I only do it because I love my family.”
“I know, meathead. You can’t lie for shit.” She laughs softly and looks over at Dad, who’s now slumped in his chair staring at the fire again. “Tell me what you said,” she says with a weary sigh. “I probably need to fucking hear it.”
“Okay,” I agree quietly. I throw a nervous glance at Bates.
He’s watching me intently, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
No doubt I look like a grade-A bitch after what just happened.
He’s probably regretting that he stuck his dick anywhere near me, and that his hunky sperm could be zeroing in on eggs à la Lana at this very moment.
“First, I want to say that I had a totally different theory about Dad’s interest in a younger woman, but after hearing yours, I think it’s likely more accurate.”
Martha nods. “I’ve had more time to consider the issue.” She gestures for me to get on with it. “Tell me.”
I take a deep breath and huddle lower in my jacket.
“I suspect you hate Reed so much because maybe the opposite is true,” I say as quickly and quietly as possible.
“There’s such passion involved in every interaction between the two of you, and it lights you up like nothing else.
I proposed that you love to hate him… and that if he was in possession of all the right-sized parts, then maybe the truth is that you hate that you love him. ”
Martha stares at me and takes a long, slow swig of her beer. “I’ll have to think on that one, little sister. You don’t have to talk so quietly. You fucking shrank just now.”
“Because I don’t want you to hate that you love me.” I keep my head down, still avoiding the potential line of fire.
She snorts softly. “Never gonna happen. Do Kelly.”
My heart skips a beat before breaking into a gallop. “Huh?”
Martha points at Bates. “Do him.”
“Do… what to him, exactly?”
“Truth-bomb his ass. He’s sitting there all smug and cozy-looking, like he thinks he’s safe. Make him squirm like the rest of us.”
I glance at Bates for less than a heartbeat and shake my head. “I… um… I don’t really know him well enough.”
“You know plenty.” The certainty in Bates’s tone draws strange looks from the others, but he remains calm and unbothered. “Tear me open and let them see what’s inside. They deserve to feel better about themselves after the gutting you just performed on them.”
I swallow hard. “A-are you sure?”
“As sure as a team of soldiers pounding at your gate,” he says with a secretive smirk before giving me a nod that seems to hold more weight than it should.