11. Gus
11
GUS
Well, that was unexpected.
And unprofessional.
And can’t happen again.
Even if I enjoyed it. Really, really fucking enjoyed it.
Like maybe more than any other sexual experience of my life. And I wasn’t even on the receiving end. Still, not happening again. One-time deal. From here on out, it’s just friends.
Friends who are currently holding hands as they walk into my brother’s housewarming party.
Opening the door, I step to the side, letting go of Margeaux just long enough for her to walk into the small cottage that my sister’s friend Sylvie bought a handful of years ago and lived in until recently. Actually, now that I think about it, Sylvie hasn’t lived here in a while. Bronwyn is the more recent occupant, but I suppose that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that Milo and Brenna have now taken over and are throwing a party to celebrate.
One that I completely forgot about .
Worse, I realize as I look around, one I am also completely underdressed for.
“Gus…” The way Margeaux says my name lights me up inside like the warm glow of the streetlights glimmering in the cool air on a winter’s night. Something about it sparks differently, drawing me to her like a moth to a flame. “It’s a costume party.”
“Yeah…” I draw out the word, the answer suddenly dawning on me. “Halloween.”
Now that I think about this, it’s starting to ring a bell. Halloween is this coming Tuesday. Truck or Treat—Hickory Hills’s version of trunk or treat since so many people in town have pickups—is tomorrow evening, meaning the whole town will be occupied with handing out candy to the town’s underage population. Milo has a weird love of scary movies and Brenna…well, I’m not sure why Brenna would go along with it, but she has.
“We’ll just say that we’re whatever that religious group is that knocks on doors and tries to save everyone’s soul,” I offer, trying to come up with something.
“Well, you did just make me see God,” she quips, only loud enough for me to hear.
My eyes go wide, my head snapping down to look at her. Bursting into laughter, Margeaux bites her lip, dropping her head and resting it against my shoulder. I tug her into me, laughing right along with her. Because damn, that’s a good line. And, I sure did—if I do say so myself.
Placing a soft kiss to the top of her head, I tighten my grip on her, enjoying the feel of her in my arms way more than I should. Like she belongs right here. Because friends are not supposed to feel this good pressed up against you. Direct reports really aren’t.
The woman you just tongue fucked on her desk though? She’s a different story .
“Hey you two!” Milo greets.
Margeaux takes half a step back, enough to be able to twist to see him, but not enough to leave my embrace. Noted.
“And just what the hell are you?” I ask, scanning him up and down. His dark jeans and blue checkered shirt don’t look like anything he wouldn’t be wearing on any given Friday night at the bar. The bar… “And who is running Pour Decisions if everyone is here?”
Margeaux squeezes my arms gently, her silent way of comforting me. Truthfully, it works a lot better than Milo’s words.
“Calm down.” He holds up a Ghost Face mask, answering my first question. “Ben is back for the weekend from Georgia Southern, so we got him and a couple of his buddies to cover.”
“On a Friday night?”
“Gus…” Margeaux whispers. Her voice is calm, soothing me even if all she says is my name.
“We’re ten minutes away if anything goes wrong. It’ll be fine.”
I start to argue, then stop. Not because I think better of it. But because charging toward us is life-size Barbie, dripping in hot pink. Whatever words I had are gone now, stolen straight out of my brain by one of the biggest messes of teased blonde curls I’ve ever seen. And I’m the son and older brother of pageant queens.
The higher the hair the closer to God…
“Margeaux!” Willa exclaims. My sister doesn’t bother to acknowledge my presence, grabbing ahold of Margeaux and pulling her in for a hug. All I can do is step back and watch, hoping not to be collateral damage. “I’m so glad you’re here. I can finally introduce you to Dustin and Kenzie!”
In a blink, Willa’s leading her away, leaving Milo and me in the dust .
“That’s cool, Willa. I didn’t bring Margeaux because I wanted to spend time with her or anything…” I call out after them.
I can’t tell if she doesn’t hear me over the small crowd or simply pretends not to, but they keep walking, backs turned to us. Not even so much as a glance backward. Noted.
“You need a drink.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement. Milo nods to me, then gestures over toward the back porch. And he’s right. I need a drink.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks, holding the depressed tap down as the red Solo cup fills with Party Mode.
“We were working late, that’s all.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” Hux snarks from a deck chair.
Anton snickers from the seat next to him. “Workin’ hard? Or hardly workin’?”
“Actual work,” I correct them. “We were looking at rifle patents.”
“Because of all the sexy things in the world…” Hux mutters.
“The original Hayes rifle?” Ewan interjects. “That is pretty damn sexy.”
I point at our baby brother. He may not have much to say, but I’m telling you, he comes up clutch in certain moments.
“You kissed her yet?” Jace asks.
He would. The family wild card, he’s also the family romantic. Not that he would admit that out loud. Or maybe he would. It’s not like he’s kept his reading romance novels a secret.
“She’s my direct report, so I?—”
“Temporary direct report,” Anton corrects. “There’s a difference.”
“So, that’s a yes,” Jace adds. “And based on the crimson color your neck is turning, I’d bet you’ve done more than just kiss her.”
Way more…
“Doesn’t matter. It would be unprofessional.”
“Fuck unprofessional!”
So many of them say it I can’t even tell you which ones it comes from. Hell, it might have been all five. Message received.
I slump back against the railing, sucking in a long, hard breath. From here, I can see into the house, a direct view through the small kitchen into the living room where most of the guests are. Including the beauty I had splayed out on a desk not that long ago.
My dick twitches as that memory floods my brain. Fuck, I didn’t handle that well. Margeaux deserves so much better than that.
More than that, I want to be the one to give it to her. To experience it with her. All of it. Good morning texts. Stolen glances in the hallways. Love notes left in her desk. Picking her up for a lunch date. Hell, a real date, period. Staying up too late talking. Meals. Inside jokes. I want to hold her hand as we walk through the farmers’ market, wondering if Mrs. Burch and Mrs. Chamberlain, the town gossips, are talking about us.
I want it all.
“Gus, we all know that you like her,” Hux says, leaning forward in his chair. “So, do yourself a favor and admit it to yourself. Then get your ass in there, and do something about it.”
“You should listen to your own advice there, Hux,” Anton snarks.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I look over at him, curious if he’s really going to pretend like he doesn’t know. Here, among us. The confused, borderline pissed-off look he’s sporting gives me my answer.
“Dolly gets married in five months, dude,” I clue him in, happy the focus is off me for a moment. I know my reprieve isn’t long, but I’ll take what I can get. “No time like the present.”
My middle brother scowls at me, and I’m pretty sure I see him contemplate jumping up and beating the shit out of me.
“It’s not like that; we’re just friends.”
“Riiiiight…” Jace mutters.
“And Willa couldn’t stand Nash,” Ewan adds.
Burn…
See, once again, hitting the nail square on the head. Ewan has a gift. Hux glares at baby brother—if looks could kill—who responds with a simple shrug and sip of his drink. Ewan knows he’s not wrong. We all do. Only time will tell.
“Percy will be back soon, right?” Milo chimes in, trying to smooth things over, bringing us back to the point. “So, just keep things quiet until he does. Not that tough.”
“Not that tough,” I scoff. “Just can’t be seen in public, so have to limit our time together at work. She lives at Hayes House, so I can’t go to her place. I share a place with these two,”—I gesture between Hux and Jace—“so having her over gets cramped. Can’t take her out in public because then the whole damn town will know. Yeah…not that tough.”
“We can make ourselves scarce if you want to have her over,” Hux offers. “We’re not complete jackasses.”
I nod, thinking that could work.
“If you need to get creative, I’ve got ideas. All that reading has not gone to waste,” Jace adds.
I roll my eyes. I’m sure it hasn’t, but am also sure that I don’t need to hit up my younger brother’s romance novel collection for date ideas. Although, on the other hand, whatever ones Kenzie Wilder has at the library might not be a bad idea. Still not going to give Jace credit though.
“Bring her to Sunday dinner,” Ewan suggests.
“No.”
I answer so fast I think I give him whiplash. But Sunday dinner is one thing I can’t bring Margeaux to. Not yet. Despite the fact that every inch of me is dying to introduce her to Miss Belle. But that can’t happen. Yet.
“Auggie can’t know. This stays here. This is a brothers’ secret,” I tell them, making sure they know I’m as serious as they come.
“Keepin’ a secret from the big man,” Anton says. “Who are you and what did you do with Gus?”
“I mean it. Brothers only.”
“And our sister,” Ewan adds, peering into the house. “Who, by the looks of it, still has your girl in her clutches.”
I look back through the door, those teased curls impossible to miss. They aren’t what steals my attention though. Or my heart.
No, that’s the smile of the redhead across from her, grasping her stomach as she laughs at some story the Keller twins are telling. My heart squeezes, everything suddenly making sense. I know exactly what I want.
Here’s hoping she wants me too.
Placing my beer down on the railing, I give my brothers a nod, heading into the house. This isn’t where I want to be tonight. I want to spend tonight getting lost on the back roads of this small town with the prettiest girl I’ve ever known sitting next to me while a country song plays in the background. Left hand on the wheel, the right trying to cross the line we blew past earlier this evening. Maybe we’ll get a little lost. Find a field and dance under the stars. Get lost in each other.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Milo calls after me .
I pause, holding the sliding door open just enough to stick my head out. “After this past summer, that takes absolutely nothing off the table.”
“That’s why I said it.”
Fucker…
I’m through the kitchen and into the living room in no time flat. I don’t bother interrupting, at least not properly. Stopping in front of Margeaux, I hold out my hand, giving her a wink.
The same electricity that was in the air earlier snaps and pops. I can feel it buzz as she slides her hand in mine, her impish smile taking over. The one I now know is reserved just for me. Damn, does that make me feel like the king of the world.
If Willa objects, I don’t hear it. Then again, nothing else registers except Margeaux and the magnetic pull I feel toward her, even as I lead us toward the door. I don’t know what it is, but it’s like there is a force field around us and an energy that belongs to us and us alone.
Just the way I want it.
We reach the car, and the fire within me takes over. Grabbing Margeaux’s hips, I push her against the door, caging her in. Flames flash in her eyes, her fingers grazing along my stomach. A shiver rips through me from her gentle touch, my dick surging. Leaning in farther, I nip at her jawline, then kiss her thoroughly, making sure she knows she got to me.
“What do you say to getting lost?”
“Getting lost?” Her eyebrow lifts, curiosity clearly piqued.
“Yup. You, me, the ’cuda. Just ridin’ these roads til…I dunno. We’ll figure it out. I just know that I don’t want this night to end, and you’re the only one I want to spend it with.”
Wrapping her fingers in my shirt, Margeaux tugs me closer, until we’re all but touching. Her breath tickles my skin, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because somehow, even this close, she’s still too far away.
“I think that sounds perfect.”
“Good.” I kiss her again. This time softer, more drawn out. Like I have all night. Which apparently, I do. “And next weekend I want you to come with me to Savannah.”
“Savannah?”
“Yeah. There’s a personal safety expo I promised Jace I’d help with. Come with me.”
“Is that allowed?”
Her question hangs like a bobber in the water, waiting for that tug. I tighten my grip on her, more sure of my answer than I’ve ever been of anything else. Ever.
“I don’t care. I want you there.”
“Then I wouldn’t miss it.”