33. Luc
33
LUC
WE’RE HEADING TO THE FARMER’S MARKET
“ A lright.” Kane stomps up the stairs, following me and Billy into the nursery. “Fine. You won’t tell me the stuff . But what happened after that?”
“After?”
“Yeah, like,” he flicks his hand in my direction, “you clearly hook up at some point, considering that cute little booger you’re carting around like a new handbag. There had to have been a first time. And since you were sneaking, there was clearly a first morning after. A first nearly got caught . I want those details.”
“Your wife was largely involved in all that.” I lay Billy on the changing table. Already, I smell the stench of a massive, milky load dropped in her diaper. So I unzip her onesie and work on tugging her tiny legs out. “She tried to threaten me. Though, she didn’t know I was the one hiding in Bear’s bedroom.”
“Oh my gosh.” Jess wanders up the stairs and stops in the doorway beside Kane. Changing a shitty diaper is an entire family adventure, I suppose. “You were in her room, and I didn’t know it?”
“A million times. But that particular time, you mentioned judo, ass-kicking, the Supreme Court, and string beans.” I place Billy’s leg on the plastic mat and reach into her romper for the other. “Then you went off to buy coffee and breakfast.”
“I remember this!” She claps a hand to her mouth and gasps. “ You !?”
“ Y ou don’t have to leave,” Kari giggles, climbing out of the shower and grabbing my hand as she rushes back into the hall. She drips on the floor and snatches out a pair of men’s jeans from the basket as we pass. Charging into her room, she yanks me in and slams the door, then she tosses the jeans at my chest and drops her towel. “You can be here when she gets back. You’ve been in this apartment a million times during weird, annoying hours. She’ll assume you’ve come to see her.”
“And these men’s jeans?” I pull them away from my chest and sneer. “There a reason you’re dressing me in another man’s clothes?”
She rolls her eyes and snags a fresh pair of panties from her closet. “They’re Marc’s jeans, goober. Relax. You’re practically the same size, and you have to get changed, because sitting at our table in your uniform eight hours after end of shift will look sus. But if you look fresh, and you act normal, she’ll assume you arrived while she was out for coffee.”
“But I…” I lose my train of thought and tilt my head to the side when her tits are just… they’re there. “I…”
She looks down at her mostly naked body, then glances up again and snarls. “Grow up, String Bean. Get changed. Leave your uniform in my room and I’ll get it washed and back to you. In the meantime, you can still hang out, you’ll see Jess, and no one has any clue what the hell you did to me last night.”
“What I did to you ?” I push my cargo pants back down and hobble on one foot to get them off. Then I step into my best friend’s pants and hope to god no one ever finds out about it. “Excuse me, Ms. Please Fuck Me.”
She lobs her towel across the room, so it smacks my face and hangs off my head until I grab it.
“You were on such a roll, Luca. Sweet, for approximately seven hours. And six of them, you were sleeping.”
“And now you’re stuck with me anyway. No return policy.” I drop the towel and hitch the jeans up, over my hips, and fix the zipper. “What the hell do we do next? How do I look Marcus in the eye again, knowing what I know?”
She slides into a bra and reaches back to fix the clasp. “What exactly do you think you know?”
“That your pussy tastes like candy and you have a teeny tiny smattering of freckles right next to your clit.” I firm my lips when her eyes swing up to meet mine, then I raise a brow when she huffs. “Only people who know things will know that about you.”
“Good thing my brother doesn’t know that about me,” she sneers. Charging past me, she opens the bedroom door and hesitantly peeks into the hall. The coast is still clear, so she darts out in just her underwear, then back in again in under a second. She flings a plain black shirt at my chest and slams the door shut until it rattles in the frame. “They’re just plain jeans. Plain shirt. No one has to know who they belong to. And you don’t have to tell people about the vagina freckles.” She stalks to her closet and snags a pair of itty-bitty shorts that have no business being outer wear. “I feel like it’s common courtesy not to bring up such delicate matters in everyday discussion.”
“But they’re my favorite freckles now.” I shrug into the shirt and scowl, knowing I’m not wearing my shirt. I’m wearing another man’s. Even knowing who that man is, it still gives me the ick to be given another dude’s clothes by the woman I’m gonna keep for myself. “What are you doing today, anyway? We have forty-eight off before our next shift.”
“Well, if you stay, then I’m probably gonna eat a pastry with Jess and not discuss eggplants, since she won’t wanna bring that up in front of you. If you leave, then I’m going back to bed and hoping by the time I wake from my ten-year coma, she’ll have forgotten about all the stuff she may or may not have heard last night.”
“She’s tenacious.” I pull the shirt down over my torso and fix it at my hips. “Even if you escape her today, you’re gonna have to deal with it tomorrow.”
“Like I said,” she reaches back into her closet for a shirt, “ten-year coma. I have a plan, and it’s wrapped up entirely in complete and total avoidance. I’m just thrilled it’s your sister who knows stuff, and not my brother. That’s a whole other bag of hell.”
Footsteps echo on the stairs outside. Extra noisy. Extra heavy, almost as though the owner is generously signaling their approach.
The fact that these girls—my sisters—have a guy-system makes my stomach roll uncomfortably.
“Shit!” Kari sprints forward and shoves me toward the door, smashing my shoulder against the frame and opening it before I’m truly out of the way. The wood bounces off my foot and crashes shut again. So she pushes me to the side, opens it wider, and deposits me in the hall. “Go to the kitchen! Make a coffee. Act as annoying and entitled as you always do when you come over here.”
“Entitled? Bear, I?—”
“Go eat the last of something out of the fridge! Spill sugar on the counter. Be obnoxious!” She closes the door in my face and presses her back against the wood—I hear the muffled thump—meanwhile, keys jingle in the front door.
“Go!” she snaps.
With my heart in my throat and adrenaline zinging in my veins, I dart along the hall, my feet skidding on the rug in the living room and nervous nausea slinging through my gut as I glide past the front door. Then I crash into the kitchen, smacking my hip on the counter when I overshoot the landing. I grab a mug from the sink and toss it beneath the coffee machine spout just as the apartment door opens, and the sound of crinkling paper packaging echoes through. “Luca?”
Jess’ curious voice carries in the air. The sound of her keys, then the muffle-thump of her shoes as she kicks them off. “Are you here? I saw your bike out front.”
“Hmm?” Calm as a fucking cucumber, I wander to the fridge to get creamer and gulp when my sister emerges in the doorway, beaming when our eyes meet. “Hey.” Cool. Cucumber. “What did you say?”
“I saw your bike.” She sets a tray of coffees on the counter and strolls across to slide into my side for a fast hug. “Did you seriously just get here and you’re already in our fridge?”
“Those are not pants,” Marcus’ angry baritone makes my heart come to a dead standstill. I extract myself from Jess’ hug and step to the left to find not only my best friend standing at the front door, but Kari waltzing into the room as well, wearing teeny tiny shorts and rolling her eyes.
“Good to see you too.” She’s better at this than I am because she strides through the room and kicks the rug back into place before heading to her brother. “It would be nice to see you sometime and you weren’t trying to control what I wear.”
“Funny,” he grumbles, dropping a tender kiss to the top of her head. “It would be nice someday to visit my baby sister and not see her ass.”
“Except… this is my private apartment.” She extracts herself from his hold and smiles the smile of a fucking angel. “My private, personal, can dress how I like , apartment. Do you see me fussing over the things you wear at your place?”
“Do you see my best friend over there?” He shoves a hand in my direction, growling when I sling my eyes away from Kari’s long, bare legs. “He’s a grown ass man, Kar. And he has a reputation for liking the ladies. Do you think it’s appropriate for him to see your ass at this time of the morning?”
“Your reasoning is absolutely laughable. And toxic. But sure, I’ll cater my outfits in my own home on the off chance you and your friends drop by uninvited.” She drifts by me, too fucking close, too tempting, and brushes her shoulder over mine. “Morning, Luca. You look rested despite your late night.”
“My late…” I swallow, noisily and nervous. “My late night?”
“Finished up work at midnight, same as me.” She moves to the coffee machine and snags the coffee I started. Then she looks at Jess and grins. “What pastries did you get?”
“ Y ou were him!” Jess snarls. “You were that guy hiding in Kari’s room that morning? Luca!”
I peel Billy’s overflowing diaper open and attempt to breathe as little as humanly possible. “I sure as hell hope she didn’t have any other dudes hiding in her room.” Wrinkling my nose, I reach across for wet wipes and begin cleaning up the greenish-brown mess. “Then, of course, Marcus had to walk in with you that morning, too.”
“I asked about your…” Jess heaves. It might be fake, or she might really be ready to blow chunks. But the fact she does it while Billy’s poo-stench fills my lungs makes all this so much worse. “A hundred times over the next few weeks, Luc! I asked about your thing so many times!”
“Your family is toxic and weird,” Kane grumbles. “What the hell is wrong with you, Blondie?”
“Oh, shut up!” She smacks his arm. “You’re literally begging him for the sordid details. I was asking, but that was only because I thought she was banging someone not related to me. But you— you !—are completely aware, and yet, continue to ask for every description. Don’t talk to me about weird.”
W eeks after my first night with Kari, I sit on Marc’s back porch and drink a beer with everyone else. Marcus. Scotch. Ang. The twins, Britt, and of course, Kari.
The grill has been fired up, and the laughter rolls.
Marcus, after all, is happiest when he has his little sister safe and within his sights.
“Apple?” Jess tosses one into Kari’s lap, uncaring that it smacks her friend’s stomach first, bouncing off and almost tumbling to the ground if not for Kari’s fast hands. “That’s a reasonably sized apple, right? Kinda thick. But if we’re just talking, like… length size…”
Kari flattens her lips, unimpressed as she sets the fruit on the table in the middle of our group. “No, thank you.”
“A banana, then?” Laine joins in, grinning as she places the long, yellow fruit on the table next. “It’s on the smaller side, I guess. And not crazy thick. So it’s just, like…” she shrugs, earning a curious tilt of Ang’s head. “A snack.”
“I don’t want a banana either.” Kari smiles, angelic and yet, intolerant. “Not hungry.”
“Is an eggplant a fruit?”
“They are, actually.” Marcus, that dumb motherfucker, tips his beer back and takes a sip. “They’re often considered a vegetable,” he rumbles, clueless to the fact that he’s participating in a game of, ‘ how big was Kari’s secret dick ?’ “But they technically grow from a flowering plant and contain seeds, which makes them a fruit.”
Britt beams, glancing back toward the house at the fruit bowl overflowing on Marcus’ counter. “Would you like an eggplant, Kari?”
“No.” Furiously playing with the label on her beer, she picks at the paper instead of looking up. Instead of looking at me. “No eggplants for me, please. I’m saving my appetite for dinner.”
“Oh come on!” Jess scowls. “Giant carrots, then? Not those pesky little snack kinds. But the big fat, farmers had a good year, kind?”
“What the fuck is with the food discussion?” Marcus peers across to me. Like I can somehow be his backup. “Did they have a stroke?”
“One of us did,” Britt snickers, losing her cool and bouncing off her chair before she ruins all their fun. Her eyes glitter with unreleased laughter as she trudges into the house. “There’s a whole watermelon in here! It’s like, the size of a basketball. Surely that’s too much for any one person to consume.”
“I’m gonna cook the steaks.” Shaking his head, Scotch stands and follows his sister into the house. “They’re being weird, and I don’t recall inviting them here with us anyway.”
“I invited them,” Marcus declares. “I don’t see my sister enough these days.”
“Could be because of the farmer’s fruit markets she keeps going to,” Britt cackles, throwing her head back and holding on to the kitchen counter for support. “She’s busy working and fruitin’.”
Kari looks at me, her face stony and hard. “She’s strange.”
“Yep.” I bring my beer up and sip. “She sure fuckin’ is.”