8. Wilson
eight
wilson
“Wilson.”
“Lark—“
“So, she’s with you?” he asked. Just his voice made a muscle beneath my eye twitch.
“Look—“
“Wils, come on, man. You don’t date. You hardly come up for air to say hi to your beloved cousins.” I knew I had to breathe. He had no idea what he had interrupted.
“Man—“
“So, when Tor told me he flew out with you on some last-minute plane ride, I got worried, I won’t lie. I’m a sensitive guy like that. I mean, you gotta admit you’ve been acting funny since we put the old man to rest.”
“Lar—“
“I mean, asking me to hire someone to do that little job in that cute graphic designer’s home is one thing. Now Tor tells me you flew the two of you out to the smallest house we own in Wyoming. Some little cabin Grandad kept for god only knows what reason. I’m almost positive I’ve never even been there. I mean, Grayson and Jenkins said they have?—“
“You told them?” His siblings and my other pain-in-the-ass cousins.
“Like I said, we’re worried. Especially when we hear that our pilot warned you about upcoming bad weather and you still went. If anything, Tor is almost positive that’s why you wanted to go there. Then you made Tor, who honestly has been attached to your hip since he started working for us?—“
“Lark!” I warned, but I knew I was wasting my breath.
“You made him fly back home. Alone. You had to know I would call with questions.”
“Jesus, you’re a pain in my ass,” I grunted quietly, hoping that Lana didn’t hear anything coming from my buffoon cousin’s mouth. He wasn’t on speaker, but he had a voice that carried.
“She’s with you.”
“Lark, I swear to?—“
“Shh, breathe, man. Relax. Whether you like it or not, we’re family. It’s not like I’m going to turn you into the cops for being some kind of creeper. I was the one with the right people for the job to install the cameras and devices at her place, wasn’t I? Hell, it just might surprise you that you and I and maybe one or two of my brothers have the same… Well, let’s call it voyeuristic endeavors in common.”
“What the fuck does that mean? Actually, no, I don’t want to know. What do you want?”
“Tor might have mentioned that you were going to set up some kind of ball.”
“Not needed. The weather was as bad as I hoped,” I mumbled in a hushed tone, glancing over towards the room.
“I don’t know what you’re up to but…” Lark’s voice drifted off to nothing, leaving me with nothing but silence.
“But what?” I asked, almost positive I didn’t want to know.
“But I’m glad you’re finally fucking living,” he laid out, and I stopped pacing for a moment. My eyes dropped to the ground, and I swallowed down the emotion that bubbled up.
“Lark.” My voice was hoarse.
“I’m serious.” I could tell by his tone he was. No longer was he his usual jokester self. This was a glimpse into the man who lay beneath the humper he used as a shield.
“It’s about time, Wils. Just… if this is a fling, you’re doing a little too much. But if this isn’t a fling and this is something… well, you want for longer….”
“What?”
“Be smart. Be clear. Don’t risk fucking everything up.”
“What the fuck? Are you seriously trying to give me advice?” I clipped even though I knew he was right.
“I’m just saying you’ve been out of the game for a long time, if you were even in it. I’m not sure you’ve even had sex before.” And the Lark I know is back.
“Stop talking, Lark,” I grunted, but of course, he didn’t.
“I’m serious.” He chuckled. “I can send you a quick how to get her off tips, if you need.”
“I don’t need that, thank you very much.” My nose flared at the memory of last night. Of just a couple minutes ago when I could feel just how wet she already was for me.
“Okay, then. Oh, and don’t forget! No glove, no love. I don’t know if the world is ready for any little stuffy, suited babies in the world.” And with that, my annoying-as-hell cousin, who was the closest thing I had to a best friend or a brother, hung up.
I dropped my head, letting my chin touch my chest before I counted to ten.
My family was a piece of work.
Voyeuristic endeavors. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, and when I returned, I’d find out. But right here and now, I didn’t care.
I needed to get back to my woman.
Almost like she knew I was about to look for her, she was there. Standing at the threshold of where the hall that led towards the rooms separated the living room, looking like a dark-haired pixie. I swear I almost expected wings at her shoulder blades when she turned around. She looked like an ethereal being. A pretty, curvy goddess. My heart clenched while sweet warmth spread throughout me.
Fuck, she is pretty.
Her deep brown shoulder-length hair was wild from sleep and my hands. Her blue eyes popped against her creamy, softly tanned skin. But it was her smile that did me in. Two little dimples popped up, one on either side of her face.
Dimples I’d only seen through the cameras while watching her or from afar that looked better when directed at me.
They felt like a gift.
“I hope you don’t mind.” She extended her arms and smiled. She wore the sweater I’d had on last night. It fit her way too big, practically swallowed her up. Like I want to do. The hem hit just below her knees. Seeing her wear my clothes reawakened my cock. I had no idea how the fuck I was supposed to try and charm my way into her heart when she walked around like a temptation after a forty-eight-hour fast.
“Not at all.” I swallowed. I was about to head over to pick her up when her stomach growled.
“Oh god!” She laughed. “I’m sorry. That’s so embarrassing.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I should feed you.” I walked right over to her, and when I reached her, instead of taking her hand in mine or pulling her close, I turned my back and pulled her on it, lifting her up.
“Oh my god! Wils!” She laughed “What are you doing?” The sound of her laughter enveloped me, smoothing out the jagged edges of my soul she hadn’t created.
“Carrying you to the kitchen.” I grinned, feeling fucking lighter and happier than I ever had.
“Like your very own backpack?” she asked, and I nodded, loving the way she held on. The front of her body pressed against my back so closely, I could feel the softness of her tits despite the layers of clothes between us.
“My favorite backpack,” I answered. Her face rested against my head and arms wrapped around my shoulders while her legs wrapped around my hips. The image of taking her riding on my motorcycle popped up in my head. It would have to be moved up on the list of things to do with her once we returned.
She might think this little rendezvous was a fling. To scratch an itch. I was partially to blame by suggesting she be my fake girlfriend, but soon, she would find out this was so much more.
This thing between us was forever.