5. Nothing Says ‘Casual’ Like Family Breakfast
5
Nothing Says ‘Casual’ Like Family Breakfast
LEIGHTON
The Fam Damily:
Kaia
T-minus three weeks to Emerald Bay!!
Paxton
Hell yeah!
Maverick
I don’t get in until Thanksgiving morning. Save me some pie.
Brex
We’ll miss you guys! Can’t wait to see you all this Christmas!
Elora
Same. *pouting GIF*.
FOMO activated.
Mav
Try keeping your legs closed next spring, and you won’t miss Thanksgiving next year, sis.
Paxton
Seriously, Mav?
You had to go there.
Mav
I joke, I joke.
Kind of.
You know I will love all of your crotch goblins.
Keep that baby dust away from me, though.
Jameson
Keep your dick in your pants and that won’t be an issue.
Mav
*Middle finger emojis*
Alice
It is NINE in the morning.
Mav
And some of us have class.
Alice
Yes, you seem very invested in your lecture, atm.
Brex
No more babies for us.
I enjoy keeping my food down, thank you very much. Who’s up next?
Mav
Rhy getting snipped after baby girl is earth side?
Jameson
Can we not talk about genital mutilation before breakfast?
Mav
I’m just saying.
Gotta do something, and Brex has done her part.
My man doesn’t miss.
Hadlee
*Barfing emojis*
I’m out. *peace sign emojis*
Hadlee Rhodes has left the conversation
Rhyett
Jesus Christ, can we not run off the sisters please, jackass?
Rhyett Rhodes has added Hadlee Rhodes to the conversation
Greyson Hart
Menaces. All of you.
Kaia
Yoo-hoo!
Leighton! Get your ass out of bed, sleepy head!
Paxton
I’m headed that way with coffee and danishes. I’ll drag her ass out.
Alice
Approach with caution. Jax says she was drunk enough that Ollie had to take her home last night.
Paxton
*Raised eyebrow emoji* She looked fine to me.
Kaia
You know how she is whilst hungover.
Paxton
Valid argument. What if I bring a sludge cup and an extra danish?
Greyson
Guard your face.
The incessant buzz of my cell had me peeling open my eyes into the warm autumn light of mid-morning. Only the Rhodes could vibrate a phone right off a bedside table—the big, lovable lunatics. Glaring at my cell on the floor, I decided I was keeping my liquid body right where it was, tucked snugly into my duvet, drifting back to sleep with the sun on my skin.
This was my favorite time of day in the loft—the golden blanket of sunshine pouring through the windows lit up the entire space, and I soaked up every single ounce of it. I felt… rested. And oh-so-content. Hell, even the ache between my legs was welcome.
My eyes flew open.
I rolled over like an alligator, tangling myself in the sheets—only to come face to face with none other than a sleeping Oliver Hart.
Breathtaking. Sun-drenched. Dark curls fell across his forehead, and miles of gorgeous olive skin stretched against my white bedding. My mouth went dry. I had to physically restrain myself from tracing that stunning shoulder tattoo.
My hands flew to cover my mouth as the night before flooded back.
So much alcohol.
Laughing the entire drive home.
Tacos, coffee, and half of some nineties chick-flick.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus. His lips grazing over my scars in a silent benediction—like he didn’t need the story to pay homage to their existence. The delicious lash of his tongue against my clit as he ate me out like his life depended on it. Every touch came with a tenderness that screamed of something far beyond a hookup.
Not that I had any real frame of reference.
Oh, holy hell. I thought I’d dreamed all of it.
Fuck, fantasizing about Ollie had already cut Throbby Wand-Kenobi’s time-to mission success in half this year.
I…
We…
Oh my god.
Ohmygod .
Oh. My. God!
A frenetic peek beneath the sheets confirmed we were gloriously, stupendously naked. And that anaconda he’d had hidden in his pants? Definitely aware it was morning. Was that rug burn stinging the shit out of my back?
And I… we …
Like he could sense my heart slamming against my ribs, Ollie’s eyes opened. The sunlight turned them more gold than brown, and when he smiled—damn.
Just… damn .
Still in a daze, I barely managed to engage my facial muscles as he reached for me, those broad fingers warm against my cheek before gliding down to cup my jaw.
“Good morning, Trouble,” he rasped.
Three simple words. And my heart liquefied like a cartoon character melting into a puddle.
“Morning,” I breathed dreamily.
“You good?”
I nodded gingerly. His thumb grazed over my cheekbone, expression softening. I looked then—really looked—at the gold saturating his beautiful skin. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and touching him.
Oliver Hart was in my bed, looking at me like I was the sunrise. And my body felt suspiciously like goo.
“You look happy,” he observed, voice still rough with sleep. Satisfaction sparked in his eyes—golden-brown and soft and full of something dangerous.
It was a struggle to remember how to swallow, nodding as my fingers skimmed the expanse of his glorious shoulders, and his eyes fluttered shut in contentment.
“Yeah. You?”
“Never fucking better,” he breathed, tugging my wrist up to pepper kisses along it. “Kinda thought I was dreaming.”
“Same.”
“You feel convincingly real.”
I chuckled. Pinched him. Grinned when he scowled. “Sorry. Just checking.”
“ Trouble, ” he murmured, amusement coloring the word. “Want some breakfast? I make a mean eggs Benedict.”
“You won’t find anything but cornflakes and instant coffee out there,” I warned, then added—way too quickly—“grocery day.” Which was code for: I’m walking down the street and attempting to donate plasma today just to keep food on the table.
“Fuck that. I’ll have someone deliver. What do you want?”
I hesitated. Pride screamed at me to decline, but I was too warm and too wrapped in Oliver Hart to leave this bed. He tucked me against him, nose nuzzling into my hair.
Absolute, ecstatic, bone - deep bliss.
His touch made my body sing. If heaven existed, I was pretty sure it felt like this .
“Bacon? Eggs? Maybe some fruit?”
“Easy. Give me thirty minutes.”
I let my hand trail down his torso, grazing his thick morning wood. “I can think of something to do while we wait.”
“Not sore?”
Smirking, I shook my head. When he arched a brow, I admitted, “A little. But it’s worth it.”
The man pressed his lips to my forehead, humming contentedly, and I swooned . Somehow, I melted deeper into the mattress. Apparently, it was noticeable, because his hum transformed into a chuckle. I was just thinking I’d bottle that sound to play on rainy days when the alarm system chirped.
Then came the familiar baritone that popped our blissful bubble.
“Leighton Alexandra! Get your ass up. I come bearing espresso!”
Our eyes snapped open at the same time. “Is that?—”
“ Paxton! ” I hissed, springing upright, my brain flashing every single check-engine light as I rushed to find my clothes. Ollie followed at a slightly more dignified speed.
I loved my big brother. So, so much. But I could’ve punched him in his smug, gorgeous face.
“Where are my pants?” Ollie hissed, grabbing his hoodie from where it was crumpled on the floor. I blushed, remembering that I’d worn nothing but that sweatshirt into the kitchen at some point last night.
Oh fuck me. “Living room.”
“Leighton!” the wank biscuit sang. “ Oh , Leiiiighton!”
His obnoxious, high-pitched sing-song was getting closer. I snatched a pair of oversized sweats off the armchair and hocked them at Ollie.
Just perfect. My brother was about to see us tumble out of my bedroom looking disheveled, me with freshly-fucked hair in a spider’s nest of a bun—and Ollie, pants-less.
His boss .
I’d just handed my virginity to my brother’s future-sculptor like an Amex card.
My stomach flipped. I pressed my palm to the slight ridge of my scar.
Oh god— Tillie . Matilda and Beau. Alice. Greyson.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Leighton! Family breakfast!” A triple-knock rattled the door, and about sent my stomach right out my ass.
“Keep your pants on!” I barked, eyeing Ollie where he stared down at my sweats clinging to his legs, barely covering the goods. He looked ridiculous. Ridiculous enough I had to swallow a laugh.
“Sheesh. Good morning to you too, Punky.” Smirking, Oliver mouthed, Punky? I narrowed my eyes.
“Fuck off, it’s early!” I hollered.
“It’s ten a.m.!” Paxton shot back.
“And I gave my pajamas the night off, so don’t open that door unless you want me to have another thing to bitch to my therapist about.”
“Five minutes or I eat your danish.”
“I’ll take my sweet damn time, and if you like your balls on the outside of your body, you’ll do no such thing.”
Ollie chuckled. That glow in his eyes—pure affection.
“Jesus, I’ll wait on the balcony!”
“Thank yooouuu,” I sang, locking eyes with Ollie a beat before his lips crashed onto mine. Forcing myself to peel apart, I breathed, “Perfect. Let me get him outside. Keep him facing the city. You get outta here.”
“I hate this,” he whispered.
“Same.” I forced an unconvincing smile.
There was no way I was throwing Ollie to the wolf in my fucking sweats. Paxton might be a teddy bear at heart, but he was six-foot-four, and two hundred and thirty-five pounds of pure muscle, with a protective streak a mile wide. He’d made my college boyfriend look ready to piss himself just by getting out of the truck .
“Got a better plan than your star QB finding out his boss boned his baby sister?”
He grimaced. “I’d prefer a face-to-face. Ideally wearing my own pants.”
We both glanced at the very impressive tent in his lap.
“Still?” I chirped.
“It’s. Morning,” he grumped.
“Got another idea?”
With a sigh, he kissed me again—this one harder, more desperate. “Come by the house later?”
I nodded, but the crab of guilt was pinching at my belly.
What the fuck did I just do?
A single lapse in control and I could’ve rewritten my entire life. I’d never meant to be a one-night stand kind of girl, but dating Oliver? That could never be casual.
We were too intertwined. And dating a single dad skipped steps one through twenty in favor of mach-five, because the moment kids were involved… everything accelerated.
Especially kids I loved with my whole damn heart.
What if Tillie thought I’d been hanging out with her just to get close to her dad?
What if this blew up and I couldn’t even be in the same room as the people I loved most?
My heart sank at the very real possibility that I finally took what I wanted and could lose three of my favorite people as a result.
As I turned to leave, Ollie caught my wrist and drew me back to him.
“Leighton.” His voice was hoarse, urgent. This kiss was molten—desperate, as he teased his tongue along the seam of my mouth.
“I can practically see you overthinking in that beautiful head of yours,” he whispered. “And I need you to know that you could never be a mistake, Trouble.”
Oliver
Music—blasting.
Sun—shining.
Panoramic sunroof—wide open.
The rumble of my Bentayga through the floorboards had me itching for open roads to let her run.
Traffic—terrible, but I was too goddamn happy to care.
The aftertaste of Leighton Rhodes was a heady concoction on my tongue, and every inch of me buzzed with the echo of her touch.
Holy shit. She kissed me . Wanted me . Welcomed me into her home—and then her bed—and looked like a damn angel beneath those lust-drunk lids this morning. If the last thing I saw in this life was her face when that first orgasm hit, I’d die a very happy man.
She was a dream. And I had no intention of waking up.
Still grinning like a teenager, I waited for the gate to open and pulled into the driveway. I was back in my own gym set, her folded sweats resting in the passenger seat, the glorious sun warm against my face as I stepped from the car.
Men talked about walking on top of the world with the right woman by their side. I used to think they were suckers. But now? I damn near floated through my front door, breathing in the scent of bacon and coffee and the delighted laughter of my kids. I was one step from levitating when I rounded the corner into the kitchen to find Beau and Mattie bopping along to some kiddie tune with the nanny.
“Good night, boss?” Oaklyn chirped, already reaching for the coffee pot.
I just grinned and leaned down to kiss both my kids’ cheeks. Happy. I'd forgotten what that felt like. “Morning, sunshines.”
“Morning, Daddy,” they chorused.
Coffee in hand, I strolled toward my office, planning to clear a few emails before brunch. That plan ground to a halt the moment I stepped inside and saw Greyson sitting in the chair across from my desk, looking far too serious for a Saturday.
What was it with brothers shitting on the perfect day?
He cleared his throat. “Where you been, Ollie?”
“Out,” I clipped, circling him and ignoring the jackass perched in my chair like he paid the mortgage.
“Care to expand?”
“Not particularly.” I crossed to my espresso bar, setting down the black coffee and reaching for a sugar packet. “What do you want, Greyson?”
I could feel him watching me for a long beat, analyzing, strategizing. Even as I fetched a carton of plant-based creamer from the mini fridge and stirred it into my mug before returning it.
The man dominated the conference room only in part because of his strategy. What the opposition never realized was how much power he held in his ability to stay silent. Waiting. Eventually, they would crack under the weight of his stony, expectant glare. He’d always had it, but fuck if it wasn’t worse after his time in the Navy.
But this wasn’t some executive takeover.
This was my house. My office. And I might answer to my brother on the board, but not here.
“You’re in my chair.”
“I am.”
“It’s Saturday. I blocked this morning off.”
“You did.”
“So, what are you doing here? Is Alice okay?”
“She’s fine. Thank you for asking.”
I turned and finally faced him.
“Take a seat,” he instructed.
“I don’t think I will.” Just to be petty, I leaned against the espresso table and took a slow sip. The first cup of the day was sacred, and he was fucking with my ritual.
We’d fought before. But not like this. Not for this long.
“I’ve got plans,” I said. “Get to the point or get out.”
He clasped his hands, elbows on my desk, and held my gaze. “You know I love you.”
“Thought you did.”
His eyes narrowed. “My love for this family has never been in question.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
“I didn’t come here to rehash what we both know needs to be done.”
“What you do after hours is none of my business. But keep it away from my family.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You could walk away. Then there’d be a hell of a lot less to work on.”
“There are bigger things at play, Ollie. What my team is doing goes way beyond us.”
“And what happens if your monsters come after my kids again?”
“They have you. And a small army of security. Me. Alice. Emmaline. Nona. Hell, even Reggie would take a bullet for them.”
“Reggie’s a dick.”
“Yeah. But he still gives a damn. What about the kids with no one? Who protects them? The whole point of the organization is to be the someone coming for the ones the world forgot.”
I bristled but kept my mouth shut. Took another sip of coffee, trying to drown the unease. Something like jealousy collided with my irritation. Because while my brother risked his neck to protect strangers, I signed off on marketing plans behind an iron gate. And I had the audacity to be mad at him for it.
“I never meant for this to blow back on you or the kids. Don’t forget, my wife was in that car too.”
“And Leighton,” I snapped. “You owe her an honest fucking explanation.”
“The less she knows, the better.”
Ten points for the default answer. Classic.
“It’s been six weeks. You think Riviera can hold her off forever? She’s a Rhodes. We both saw how fast that house of cards fell under one set of their eyes.”
His mouth twitched before he locked it down again. “Alice says we’re good. Unless you’ve got new intel…”
I shook my head. No, Leighton hadn’t said anything. But I was tired of biting my tongue. And if last night meant half as much to her as it did to me, I wouldn’t be holding back much longer.
“Tell her. Or I will.”
He smirked like the smug bastard he was. “Why’s that?” His eyes narrowed as his grin sharpened. Like a cat scenting blood. “ What are you doing , Ollie?”
“Drinking coffee with a jackass.”
He snorted, a smile turning his cheeks up even as he shook his head. “I’ve never given you shit for making the rounds, but Leighton isn’t some random lay. She’s part of the package now. My wife . Your kids. Our family. You screw this up, and you don’t just lose her. You shake the whole damn tree.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You went home with her. And the Bentley was still gone when I left for my run.”
I took another drink to buy time. The coffee burned down my throat, but it gave me something to focus on while we held the staring contest of the century.
“You spent over a year building this team. You’ve finally got a shot at a Super Bowl. Don’t fuck with Paxton’s head now that things are working.”
“Now we’re talking football?”
“He already gets shit for me and Alice. The last thing he needs is more rumors that he’s a nepotism pick. He earned his place on that field.”
“And he shows it every Sunday.”
“The kids love her, Ollie.”
“I know.”
“Can you really risk her being another person they lose?”
My mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
And fuck him for that.
He stood, adjusted his jacket, and headed for the door—but not before pausing to squeeze my shoulder.
“I love you, little brother. But think long and hard before you lose more than you bargained for.”