Chapter 17
Seventeen
Sawyer
Fuck, she tastes like heaven.
And I want nothing more than to strip her naked and kiss her everywhere.
But…
People.
Including—
“Why’re you kissing my mom, Saw-yur?”
I pull back, chest heaving, barely any blood left in my brain.
Because it’s all in my dick.
Who’s hard now?
Shifting slightly to hide the evidence of that fact, I look down at Ollie. “I like your mom,” I say. “Is that okay?”
I meant it as a flippant question, something light and easy to smooth over a moment I hadn’t planned and could easily go wrong.
But the moment it leaves my lips, my stomach tenses.
Because what if he says no?
Lainey settles her hand on my back. “Honey—”
“Okay,” he says on a shrug then looks back at me. “Wanna play more hockey?”
“Actually,” Luna interjects with a smirk. “I think it’s present time.”
“Presents!” Ollie shouts, running over to Nate and grabbing his hand. “It’s present time. What’d you ask Santa for?”
Something crosses the kid’s face that I hate.
Because I lived it too.
When I found out far too young that Santa didn’t exist for kids like me, right before the first time my mom—
“Nothing,” Nate says quietly. “I don’t think I’ve been very good this year.”
Josie closes her eyes, and Vi wraps an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into her side.
“That’s okay.” Ollie tugs at his hand. “Santa’s always watching, so you can just show him you’re good now.”
A long pause.
Then Nate nods. “Thanks, Ollie.”
Ollie beams and starts dragging him toward the house.
But I don’t miss that he doesn’t agree with Ollie, that he clearly doesn’t think he’s good.
Josie sniffs and Vi turns her into a hug. “It’s going to be okay,” she says softly.
“Is it?” Josie whispers.
A flicker of movement catches my eye and I glance over to see Beck Ambrose standing a few feet away, his gaze locked onto Josie.
For a second, it looks like he’s going to come over.
Then Josie looks at him.
Something passes between them, something painful and awkward and—
But Josie slightly shakes her head.
And…Beck stays where he is.
Lainey settles her hand on Josie’s shoulder. “Yes,” she says. “It will be okay.”
Josie turns, studies Lainey’s face.
Then exhales. “Okay.”
“Good,” Luna says in her typical no-nonsense manner. “That’s out of the way. Now it’s present time.”
“But all of Nate’s are at home,” she whispers.
“No”—Luna loops her arm through Josie’s and starts leading her toward the back door—“they’re not. We have something for everyone.” A kiss to her cheek. “Even stubborn, incorrigible defensemen,” she adds, winking at Shepherd.
“But—” Shep begins.
“Inside!” she bellows, snapping us all to attention.
We follow her into the house, take seats in the oversized front room of Luna’s family home, the same home that has hosted get-togethers just like this for generations.
And she wasn’t lying.
She has something for everyone.
Well, two somethings—one present that’s thoughtful (everything from new batting gloves for Nate who’s obsessed with baseball to a toy from the crime-fighting dog show Ollie’s obsessed with to a signed copy of a book all of the women want to read for their next book club session), and another that’s pure fun (silly board games and funny hats and socks that are ridiculous…
and yet all of us guys are pulling on anyway).
“Jesus,” Gray mutters, “these are actually nice.”
“I know, right?” Smitty wiggles his toes, currently covered in fluffy pink material. “I think I need a few more pairs.”
I don’t agree aloud.
But I am thinking about buying a full week’s worth.
“Whatcha think?” Ollie asks, sitting beside us and stretching out his feet.
He’s got fuzzy socks on too.
“Epic, little man,” Smitty says.
Ollie looks at me.
“Epic,” I agree.
He grins. Then yawns.
“I think that means it’s time to be getting home,” Lainey says with a laugh.
“Aw, man,” Ollie says, but his eyes are practically closed, he’s so wiped.
“It’s time for me to be heading home myself,” I murmur.
“Me too,” Smitty says.
“Before you go,” I hear and look up to see Vi standing in front of Smitty. She’s holding out a small box wrapped in teal paper, her expression serious.
Smitty nods at the box. “What’s that?”
“My present to you.”
He jerks upright then slowly accepts the box, his expression uncharacteristically solemn. “What is it?”
“Wouldn’t be a present then, now would it?” A nod. “Open it.”
He rips off the paper, slides the lid off the box, and pulls out a blue folder—
“Holy shit,” he whispers—yup whispers. “Is this what I think it is?”
Vi’s blue eyes dance with amusement. “Consider it a…trial run.” Ace comes up behind her and does something to her hair that has it falling, dropping from its bun to swing around her shoulders.
She sighs, shakes her head, but doesn’t chastise him for messing up her hair—this time, anyway. “When you’re ready,” she tells Smitty.
“I’m ready!” he says.
Her mouth kicks up. “All right.” A nod at the folder. “Then consider that your first assignment.”
With that, she lets Ace lead her away.
“I’ll have my people call your people!”
She waves her hand, hugs the women goodbye then follows Josie and Nate outside.
I leave Smitty to his examination of the folder—and Ollie curled sideways on the couch, mostly asleep—and make a quick sweep of the room, picking up a few rogue dishes and cups.
But when I would have washed them, Luna shoos me out of the kitchen.
“Ollie’s succumbed and is asleep,” she says. “Will you carry him out to Lainey’s car?”
“Of course.”
But first I intercept Lainey at the door, snagging the bags from her hands. “I’ve got them.”
“I’d say you don’t have to do that,” she says, pulling open the front door. “But you’d just say I want to.”
I grin. “Yup.”
She precedes me to her car, unlocking it and opening the trunk. “Men,” she says on a fake sigh. “So predictable.”
I laugh, tug at one of her curls. “Sass?”
“Maybe just a smidge,” she says, holding her thumb and pointer finger apart about an inch.
I set the bags in the trunk, but when she goes to shut it, I wind an arm around her middle and tug her against me.
“Wh—”
I drop my mouth to hers.
And…
Explosion.
Of need, of heat, of more.
I slide my hands up her back, pressing her closer, kissing her deeper, needing to taste all of her, needing to never stop.
She moans and clutches at my shoulders, nails biting into my flesh.
But the little bites of pain only ramp the kiss higher, deeper, wetter.
At least until the whistle rends through the air.
“Save it for the kitchen!” Gray calls, making Faye cackle for some reason.
I glare at them, close the trunk, and touch her cheek. “Want to start up the car and I’ll grab Ollie.”
“Yeah,” she says softly. “In a minute.”
I open my mouth to ask what she means—
And she takes full advantage, kissing me long and deep and slow.
Then turns to Faye and Gray. “Forget the kitchen!” she calls. “I’ve got the driveway.”
“I have no clue what you all are talking about.”
“Faye was a total creeper and watched Gray make out with his ex through their respective kitchen windows,” Smitty supplies and I turn to see he’s got Ollie on his shoulder.
“I resent that,” Faye calls.
“Can’t resent the truth.”
“Oh, I sure can,” she counters.
Gray chuckles, claps me on the shoulder. “Can I talk to you?”
My stomach twists at the look in his eyes. “Yeah.” I step a few feet away, wait for him to warn me off again.
“I was an asshole.”
I blink.
“About Lainey,” he says. “I was…well, whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not what I thought because I was”—a shrug—“an asshole.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “I know my reputation. I get why—”
Faye slips an arm around his waist, steps close. “He was an asshole. And he’s sorry.” A glance up at Gray. “Did you get to that part already?”
“I’m working on it, Red,” he says.
An adorable scowl on her face.
He sighs, looks back at me. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all good, man. I told you it’s all—”
“No, man. It’s not all good.” He steps closer, settles his hand on my shoulder. “For real, I’m sorry.”
My heart rolls over in my chest. “Thanks.”
He squeezes my arm. “See you in a couple of days.”
Throat tight, I just nod and watch them drive off. Then I exhale and turn back to Lainey. She’s not watching me, but staring off in the distance.
I turn, see nothing but shadows.
“Do you want me to follow you home?”
A jerky shake of her head. “No,” she says. “But will you come by tomorrow sometime?”
I’d opened my mouth to argue with her about following her home (though even as I’m thinking that, I’m already also deciding to just follow her anyway).
Her question has my words stoppering up in the back of my throat.
“If you’re too busy,” she says when I don’t—can’t—answer, “I get it. Maybe the day after then?” She nibbles at her bottom lip, uncertainty rippling through her expression. “Or—”
“I’m seeing my mom tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She blinks. “Right. Of course you’re going to see family.”
“We always go out to dinner,” I blurt. “If you want to come with us…” I clamp my mouth closed.
Fuck.
What am I doing?
I can’t have her and Ollie meet my mom.
That’s…
Insane.
Before I can find some way to take that back, Lainey smiles. “I’d love to not have to cook on Christmas. We’re in.”
And I know—know—that I’m so totally fucked.