Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Somewhere between praying hands and throwing hands.
—Text from Beau to Court
BEAU
“I love this,” she said as she smoothed her fingers through my beard.
“My beard?” I asked.
“The beard, yes,” she confirmed. “But that you let it grow out again. I missed seeing it bushy. I guess that’s just how it was when I met you, and I’ve missed it.”
“Spent twenty years of my life shaving it. I don’t really like having a shaved face, so when I was able to let it grow out, I did,” I informed her “It’s good to know you like the bushiness of it, because that’s all it becomes if I let it grow out. There’s no taming it.”
“Have you tried beard oil?” she asked, once again fascinated with running her fingers through the bushy strands.
“Beard oil. A beard balm. Brushing it. But you’re more than welcome to try to tame it. For the rest of our lives.”
She smiled. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you? You haven’t even taken me out on a proper date yet.”
“What do you call that first time we were with each other?” I challenged her.
“A pity date?”
I winked. “A date is a date, baby. And we had one.”
She grinned, and I couldn’t stop myself from dropping a kiss to that sweet mouth of hers.
She pulled back, letting one hand smooth down my chest.
Then she went farther, dropping down so that she was on her knees in front of me.
Her brown eyes were huge as she looked up at me, reaching for my cock with her hand while placing the other on my left thigh for balance.
My breath sucked in swiftly as her mouth met the tip.
“Jesus,” I said when all she did was suck the tip. “What you do to me.”
Her grin was devilish as she went back to work.
For the next five minutes, I fought to fucking breathe as she licked, sucked, and devoured every inch of me.
She wasn’t super confident in her every move, but what she did have was determination.
She wanted me to come.
And what she wanted, she got.
“I’m going to come,” I said when she pressed my cock to the back of her throat. “Do you want it in your throat or…”
She pulled back long enough for a breath, then swallowed me again, pumping her fist on the bottom half of my cock.
“Shit,” I hissed. “I’m going to come for you.”
I felt it rise from my balls, then a zing shot down my spine.
My balls lifted, and then I pulsed, hot and heavy, down her throat.
“Fucccckk,” I groaned. “Swallow, baby.”
She did, convulsively, but still some spilled free of her lips.
She hung on as long as she could, though, until she couldn’t do it anymore and needed to breathe.
When she pulled away, a string of cum stretched from her lips to my cock.
“Jesus Christ.” I laughed as I reached down to pull her up. “It’s like you know exactly what to do to drive me fucking crazy.”
She smiled at me lazily and said, “I’m tired. Take me to bed.”
I did, toweling her off and braiding her hair in a quick braid that I saw her do every single night before bed.
Then I was carrying her toward the bed and following her down.
But, because I wasn’t one to receive and not give, I moved until my shoulders were between her thighs and said, “Now lie really still.”
Her thighs tightened around my head as she giggled. “I’ll try.”
She wasn’t still.
She also wasn’t quiet.
Luckily, Iris was a good sleeper and didn’t come to investigate the odd sounds.
When she was a panting, repleted mess in the middle of the mattress, I tucked myself against her side and threw one thigh over her to keep her pinned to the bed.
Then I went to sleep with the smell of her inflating my lungs.
When I woke, it was to find a four-year-old’s face nearly on top of my own.
“Are you awake?” she asked only millimeters from my face.
I grinned.
Then remembered that I was fucking naked.
Shit.
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “Go get the lights turned on in the kitchen. I’ll be out in just a second.”
She nodded, as if that was a really important job, then scurried away.
Throughout the entire conversation, Magnolia didn’t stir.
I disentangled myself from her body and stood, stretching my arms up high over my head.
My spine, ankles, and knees popped and crackled as I shuffled to my underwear in the top dresser drawer and slipped a pair on.
Next came the sweats, which was all the time I was allowed before Iris appeared in the doorway looking expectant.
My lips quirked and I headed out into the hall with her, forgetting my shirt.
“You’re really hairy,” she mused as we walked.
“Men are hairy,” I explained. “Women are hairy, too, if they don’t shave.”
“Mama’s not hairy on her chest,” she pointed out.
“No.” I chuckled. “She’s not. Men get hair on their face and chest. Women don’t.”
“And your underarms.” She stopped in the middle of the kitchen. “What’s for breakfast?”
I looked at the girl. “Do you feel adventurous?”
“No,” she immediately replied.
A knock sounded on my door before I could reply, and I walked to it, checking the peephole before I disarmed the alarm and opened it wide. “Hey, kid.”
Lysander’s son waved and moved past me.
I watched as Lysander came up the length of the walk. “Your walk needs shoveled.”
“I just woke up,” I said. “What’s going on?”
He pointed at his son. “He asked to come over here to meet your new daughter.”
I grinned. “Not quite daughter yet, but close. How was work?”
“Bad,” he growled. “Tourist thought he could drive through the pass in his fancy car and found out the hard way that he couldn’t.”
“Rich bitch?” I joked.
“Richer than rich,” he said solemnly. “Guy was driving over the speed limit, then took a turn too fast on the slick turn right as you start coming back downhill. They found him at the bottom of the pass. Every bone that could be broken was broken. They don’t expect him to make it through the rest of the day. ”
“That sucks,” I said.
It happened every year the moment that we got enough snow that the ski resort in Bear Pass opened up.
People came up here, expected things to be perfectly fine and found out differently.
Whether it was getting buried in an avalanche, breaking themselves on the slopes, or rolling their cars down the mountain.
Never failed that the search and rescue team had to go searching for them if they went on hikes, either.
“Is what it is,” he said. “According to the hospital director, they’ve called in experts to give them second opinions. As if our conclusion of the obvious wasn’t enough of an answer for them.”
That wasn’t a surprise, either. With the rich came the pomp, and they always felt like their doctors were better than ours. I’d been hearing stories for years from Lysander about the people that came to visit and their antics.
Lysander hated when ski season started.
“Slopes aren’t even open yet. Wonder why they’re here so early?” I gestured toward the kitchen. “What do y’all want to eat?”
“Pancakes,” my nephew ordered.
“I don’t have the stuff for pancakes,” I admitted. “Biscuits?”
“Is there apple jelly?” he asked.
“Always,” I confirmed. “Iris, did you meet my nephew?”
She nodded but didn’t answer, clamming up again with new people around.
“Lysander, this is Iris, Magnolia’s daughter. Iris, meet my brother, Lysander.”
Lysander nodded but didn’t walk forward or do anything more intimidating.
Lysander knew all about Iris.
I’d talked a lot about two of my favorite people for the last eight months, and he knew Iris didn’t like to be too close to people, loud noises, or adventurous food.
“What’s that?”
Iris’s question had us both turning toward her. “What’s what?”
She tapped her ear where Lysander’s hearing aid sat.
“That’s the device I use to hear,” he explained. “It’s called a cochlear implant.”
He spent the next ten minutes explaining what, why and how.
By the time he was done, I had biscuits on the pan ready to go into the oven.
“Eggs and bacon?”
“Only if they’re scrambled.” My nephew batted his eyes at me.
I rolled my eyes. “No adventure at all.”
I had bacon, eggs, and biscuits all warm and ready by the time my little sleepyhead shuffled out of the bedroom, her hair escaping her braid and wearing only my t-shirt.
She froze when she saw my brother and nephew.
“Hi!” Lysander grinned.
A knock sounded at the door seconds later, and I walked to answer it, but stopped to kiss the top of Magnolia’s head on the way. “Come sit down and eat. Lysander understands comfort better than most.”
She nodded and took the seat at the counter between both kids.
I checked the peephole again and found a bombshell blonde on the doorstep looking like a penguin in her puffy jacket that was meant for deep winter, not late fall.
I pulled the door open and grinned. “Merrill. You look warm.”
“I’m freezing my tits off.” She pushed me aside. “I’m assuming my best friend is here, because she wasn’t…” She trailed off when she saw Lysander, who’d lost his shoes, socks and shirt the moment he walked through the door.
He was wearing sweatpants and a wifebeater and was staring at Merrill like he had the breath knocked out of him.
“Lysander, this is Merrill. Merrill, this is my brother, Lysander. That’s his son…” I started to introduce them, but Magnolia squealed in excitement and threw herself at her friend.
“What are you doing here so early?” she cried out.
“Couldn’t wait to see you,” she said, gathering her casted hand to her. “How’s the arm?”
“Making it,” she answered. “Got this cool little cast that allows me to shower without worrying about getting it wet. It also allows me to put my hair up, wipe my own butt, and…” She paused and looked behind her at Lysander. “Sorry, that was a bit too much information.”
Lysander grinned. “I work at a hospital. I think I can handle too much information.”
“Oh!” Magnolia clapped. “Lysander, you’re going to be working with Merrill!”
Breakfast went by with laughter and good conversation. We were all in great moods, especially the kids who were once again watching the octopus documentary that Shaw had recommended.
We were halfway through cleanup when my phone buzzed.
I pulled it out to see a text from Huxley to the club’s group text.
Huxley: