Chapter 6
Leland
“UNCLE LELAND?” ROSEMARY’S voice dragged him out of a deep sleep, robbing him of the opportunity to finish the best dream he’d had in a long damn time.
Scrubbing one hand over his face to rub at his tired eyes, he attempted to wipe away the lingering thoughts of Paige tucked close to him, her soft body coming alive against his. “Yeah, String Bean?”
“What do you have under the blankets? Are you hiding some-fing?” Rosemary tried to lift up the corner of the sheet.
And he almost let her, because her words hadn’t quite registered. By some miracle, the dots connected just in time for him to slam an arm down, keeping them pinned in place as he rolled away from her. “Nothing’s under the blankets.”
Well, not nothing . He was definitely sporting a wicked case of morning wood thanks to a dream involving him rubbing said morning wood along the cleft of Paige’s firm ass. And the last person he wanted to know that—outside of Paige—was his niece.
The trauma would outlast them both.
He was a piece of shit. An awful, horrible man for the things he fantasized about doing to the woman he called his best friend. And his karma came in the form of a four-year-old who was way too observant for anyone’s good.
“Are you sure it wasn’t your wiener?” Rosemary crawled onto the bed behind him. “Because sometimes Will’s wiener gets all pokey like that.”
“It wasn’t my—” he turned to peer at his niece over one shoulder. “What did you say about Will?” He’d changed his nephew’s diaper countless times, but not a single one of them had he noticed any sort of questionable behavior from the little guy’s mini-me. “Can that happen?”
“Yeah. Mommy says it’s normal. All boys get re-rections.” She smiled at him sweetly. “Prolly even you.”
He might deserve every second of what was happening right now, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. And it definitely didn’t mean he had to sit and endure it.
Scooting to the edge of the bed, he hooked one toe into his jeans, lifting them up so he could slide them on, zipping his untimely ‘re-rection’ into hiding before facing his niece.
“Are you hungry? Want some breakfast?” He’d give her anything she wanted.
Candy. Cookies. Hell, she could plow through a whole can of aerosol whipped cream if she would stop saying wiener and re-rection.
“Yeah. I’m hungry.” Rosemary bounced off the bed, landing like a gymnast against the carpet. “Is Paige bringing us something to eat?”
In all the confusion and trauma of his conversation with Rosemary, he hadn’t had the opportunity to think too much about where Paige might be. The door to the bathroom was wide open and the room beyond was dark, so she likely wasn’t in there.
He stepped out into the hall, looking around. “Have you seen Paige?”
He peeked into Will’s room, fully expecting her to be in there with his nephew. Hoping, even, that was the case, because it would give him another glimpse of Paige cuddling a baby.
He was like a fucking addict. Knew how bad it was for him to think of her the way he did, but still couldn’t stop. Even went so far as to seek out opportunities to make it happen.
Like inviting her over to help him babysit.
But Will’s room was empty outside of the small body beginning to wiggle around in the crib.
His nephew might not be fully awake yet, but Leland knew the second he walked away, the little stinker would unleash holy hell, so he decided to deal with it now.
After scooping Will out and changing his ten-pound diaper, the three of them started for the stairs.
They were only partway down when familiar voices reached his ears.
“Ugh.” Rosemary made a disgusted sound. “Mommy and Daddy are back.”
Leland scoffed. “Don’t sound so annoyed. You love your mom and dad.”
Rosemary rolled her eyes up to stare at him like he was an idiot. “Yeah, but they make me eat eggs for breakfast.”
“That’s because it’s their job to keep you healthy and filled with vitamins and minerals.” He rested one hand on Rosemary’s back, trying to get her stalled feet moving again. “I don’t have the same restrictions.”
And on some level, he loved it. Loved being able to show up and be fun and laid-back and spoil the shit out of Rosemary and Will.
On the other hand, he wished like hell he had kids of his own to force-feed eggs in the morning. Kids who had their Mommy’s dark hair and green eyes.
Shit. He needed a fucking intervention.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Beverly met them in the entryway. She didn’t greet Rosemary or reach for her baby. Instead, both hands went to her hips as she offered Leland a glare. “What did you do?”
He looked from Rosemary to Will, then back to Rosemary again. “You just said I had to keep them alive. You didn’t say they had to brush their teeth.”
Beverly waved one hand dismissively before finally scooping Will’s chubby body away.
“I’m not talking about my kids.” She booped Rosemary on the nose.
“Even though they are adorably alive. Thank you for that.” Her glare came back to his face.
“I’m talking about Paige. She ran out of here like she was on freaking fire.
Or like...” Beverly’s eyes widened and a slow smile worked across her face.
“Or like maybe...” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
He pretended not to follow along. No way would Beverly say anything inappropriate in front of her kids, and he planned to use that to his full advantage. “Maybe, what?” He lifted his brows, trying to look way more innocent than he was. “You don’t think she was sick, do you?”
Beverly scrunched her face at him, upper lip curling into a scowl. “You know what I mean, Lee. Don’t play stupid.”
He shrugged, turning toward the kitchen. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He didn’t want to have this conversation with his sister again. They’d covered his relationship with Paige a million times. And a million times she’d threatened to punch him in his face for being stupid. He wasn’t in the mood this morning to make it a million and one.
Plus, he wasn’t being stupid. He was being perfectly fucking reasonable and protective of what he had.
“You know exactly what I mean.” Beverly followed right behind him, jabbing his shoulder with her finger in a way that confirmed where her daughter learned that particular trick. “Do I need to wash my sheets?”
He sighed, the sound long and loud and a perfect embodiment of the suffering he’d dealt with over the years thanks to the woman currently giving him the third degree. “No. You don’t have to wash your sheets.” He shot her the same scrunched face expression she’d given him. “Dirty girl.”
“I mean.” His brother-in-law shot him a grin from where he was making himself a cup of coffee. “That is why I married her.”
Normally he would laugh at his brother-in-law’s lame joke, just to make him feel better. But it was early and he was tired. And annoyed. And had to get to work.
Beverly didn’t laugh at the joke either. All her focus stayed right on Leland’s face. “Then why in the heck did Paige act so freaking weird?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” He was still in bed, dreaming about rubbing himself against?—
Fuck.
There was possibly a slight chance—microscopic really—that maybe his dream hadn’t happened entirely in his head. It was possible—however slightly—that there could have been some blending of his dreamed behavior and his actual behavior.
And that was real fucking bad.
“I gotta go to work.” Leland leaned in to give his sister a kiss on the cheek, offering Will a little squeeze as he did.
Then he rubbed one palm against Rosemary’s head, mussing her already wild hair.
“I’ll call you later.” He grabbed his keys, pausing to shove his feet into his boots at the door as he turned.
“And you might want to rinse your bathtub out before use it.”
A look of horror passed over his sister’s features, but he wasn’t lingering to explain. She could think whatever she wanted at this point. It didn’t matter.
All that mattered was his unconscious brain might have royally fucked him over. Along with his very conscious dick.
Hustling to his truck, Leland piled in, brain chewing on the events of the morning as he rushed home to get ready for work.
After parking his truck, he rushed inside, peeling off his clothes as he went.
When he reached his second-floor bedroom, the whole pile went into the hamper as he passed it on his way to the shower.
Standing under the hot spray, he tried to find some scrap of a memory.
Some hint that might confirm why Paige left.
If he were braver, he’d call her and see how she was doing.
But he was a chickenshit when it came to her. In so many fucking ways. Always had been. That’s how he ended up in this predicament in the first place.
Paige had always been out of his league. She was the prettiest girl in school. Captain of every sport she played. Graduated as valedictorian. She was funny and hardworking and kind.
She’d paid attention to him even when he was a chubby, pimple-faced kid who didn’t have a clue how to wrangle someone like her.
That’s why, even now—many years and a decent amount of experience later—he still fell back into his old ways when it came to her. For the longest time, he thought someone else would step in and take the place she held in his life. Make him realize what he felt for her was infatuation, not love.
It never happened. Every relationship he’d ever tried to have only confirmed what he was coming close to being forced to admit.
Paige was it for him. Always had been. And now his misbehaving cock might have gone and fucked it all up.
Even now, the damn thing wouldn’t act right. The bastard still stood at full mast, not getting the memo that he was at the top of the shit list.
And because he was also clearly a piece of shit, Leland palmed a pile of shower gel and gripped the unrelenting asshole tight.
Bracing one hand against the shower wall, he dropped his head forward, letting the water wash over his neck and down his back, hoping it would rinse away at least a little of the shame as he fucked his fist to thoughts of fucking Paige.
He knew her so well he could imagine everything about it. The smell of her skin. The expressions on her face. The sound of her voice as he showed her just how good they could be together.
It was a ritual he practiced more often than he would ever admit. And just like every other time, it was the exact same mental image that sent him over the edge.
A vision of Paige’s soft body under his. Naked. Sated. Well-loved and thoroughly claimed.
By him.