Just Her Luck (25 page)

"Tangles?" I glared at him.

Why does everyone have to dis the do, hmm?

"Spunk. Fun. Life. Understanding."

The glare died instantly.

"Bowen..."

"You've upset everything I've worked so hard to maintain," he finally admitted, his finger skating across my lower lip, "made me rethink some things, a lot of things, rethink myself."

His eyes danced across my face.

"What are you...?"

"I don't care about you and Sawyer kissing in the pond, I don't care about you and Reeve," he groaned, closing the distance, kissing me, lips skating across mine experimentally, "I won't wake up one day and wonder what could have happened with you, with me. Wondering what could have been if I'd only just tried. I'm making my move, stating right now, Genevieve Ferguson, I want you, I care about you… I want to make you mine."

"Aw, Bo," I whispered sadly, leaning my forehead to his, "Reeve was right in some ways, in all honesty. You really don't want to get all tangled up with someone like me."

He made a noise like he was going to protest, his arms wrapping around me tighter, pulling me into his chest as I put my fingers to his lips to hush him.

"I'm a mess right now, a true nut case.
I
don't even know what
I'm
feeling. I could hurt you, Bo, and the thought of it makes my heart ache and my stomach burn like it’s full of acid."

I tried to pull back, but he held tight.

"I know what I want..."

"You don't want
me
, not really," I shook my head at him, "We're both just hurting right now and you're looking for comfort. That's all. You'll regret it in the morning. Please don't do something like that to me, to yourself."

"You listen to
me
, missy, 'cause I'm only gonna say this
once
," his deep bass rumbled at me, freezing me with the authority that oozed from him, with everything he does. "I want
you
.
You,
do you hear me? Not some bitch in heat I can fuck and walk away from, use for one night. I've done that enough in my life and I'm not interested in empty, meaningless sex anymore. I want
you
. I want
this
.” He leaned in, kissing me whole heartedly, putting everything he had into it, his lips taking mine feverishly in a sweet sensual kiss that left me breathless, left me wanting, had me ready to claw at him like a wild wanton.

"I want you, Genevieve. I want something lasting. Something
real
."

"How can you say things like that to me?" I sniffled a little. "How can you say shit like that knowing that I... I know you know that I..."

"Want my brothers too," he stated so bluntly, almost casually airing out what I hadn't yet admitted to even myself.

I didn't say anything, just let him cradle me against his chest.

He shrugged.

"If they want you as bad as I do, then they'll just have to do like our daddies did with our mama and share."

"What?" I paused, blinking at that, "Could you say that again? I don't think I quite heard you. It sounded like you said your dads,
plural
, share your mom."

"I did," he chuckled a little, rubbing his hands up and down my back, running over my spine, "they do."

"That's, uh, different," I spluttered, trying to think with his hands skating over my rump.

He shut off his truck and scooted us over to the middle seat, so I wasn't squashed by the steering wheel anymore.

"I know it sounds unusual, but that's how I grew up. It wouldn't bother me to see you with them."

"Have you... wouldn't that... aren't you... ah, fuck, ignore me," I muttered, making him laugh a little.

"I won't be lettin’ you go," he warned, lifting me up to kiss me again, "and I may not mind my brothers lovin' on ya, but I'll bury any other man that tries."

"Who says I'm yours now, Bowen Harrison?" I asked haughtily, breaking our rapidly heating lip lock.

He just smiled knowingly, running his hands over me possessively, rumbling a happy noise in the back of his throat when I acquiesced and let out a little happy sigh.

"I don't need words to say what I already now," he said arrogantly, smug smile in place.

I gaped at him for a minute, then slapped his hands away.

"Is that so?" I huffed, wide-eyed, unable to contain my laugh at seeing this side of him.

Arrogance, thy name is Bowen.

"When are you comin' home?" he asked quickly, changing the subject immediately like that was that, stealing another kiss, a mischievous lilt lighting up his hard, normally somber looking countenance, lips quirking up into the beginnings of a smile.

"I never said I was your girl, Bowen."

I smothered a smile, incredulous at his teasing tone.

He looks so handsome when he smiles like that, making my girly parts all mushy- my grim knight in shining armor turned arrogant prince.

It’s wrong on some level, I'm almost sure, but god is he sexy like that.

"You're comin' home Monday?" he guessed, grinning at my miffed expression, smiling as my lips quirked at the corners.

Good lord, look away! He has dimples!

Two cute little dents on each side of his face, enhancing his sun roughened, years of hard work apparent in his complexion, features.

"I don't think that's what Ruthie meant when she..."

He leaned over me, pinning me down to the seat, branding me with his body heat and over powering masculinity as we came flush up to one another, hip to hip, chest to chest, his lips a warm breath away from mine as his hazel green eyes seemed to see right through me, flashing as they gazed into my very soul.

"You keep stallin', sweetheart, and I'm going to take that as an invitation," he murmured huskily, a roguish grin lighting up his whole face.

"My god! You're just as bad as Thatcher!" I exclaimed, grunting and squirming underneath him. "This better not be a trick! This isn't a joke of some kind, is it?" I asked warily, hands gripping his huge, muscled shoulders, pushing to shove him off. "I swear, if you're just teasing me I'll..."

His smile died and he nipped at my lips, a chastising bite that got my attention, thrusting his pelvis against mine, the evidence of his arousal hot and hard, digging into my inner thigh.

"Does
that
seem like a joke to you? Have you ever heard me joke about things like that?"

I spluttered like an idiot, and satisfied with my flabbergasted reaction, he leaned down and licked the seam of my lips, tongue plunging inside to play with mine.

When he'd worked me into a moaning, writhing heap of a hot mess, he pulled back and helped me up, straightening my clothes, then gently nudged me towards the passenger side door.

"Go on," he said gently, picking up my hand to kiss the palm, giving it a little nip, "I'll see you in a few days, girly."

I nodded my head, wobbly, and hopped out of the truck, numbly standing by my bug, glassy eyed and hot, watching dazedly as he pulled out.

He waved at me one last time and then left, heading off to finish off his errands and go back home.

"Oh, Genevieve, what just happened back there?" I sighed, rubbing my fingertips over my throbbing lips, ignoring the ache he'd fanned to life in my core.

I think you just nabbed yourself up a man
, my mind chimed in for me.

Soooo not helpful at the moment!

"Shut up! Stupid brain!" I groused, sitting down in my car.

I rubbed at my face and groaned as I gently proceeded to bang my head on the steering wheel.

"What the hell is wrong with me," I moaned repeatedly, between taps of my head to the zebra print steering wheel cover.

A few minutes that I'm not particularly proud of later, head banging session over, I started my car up and pulled out onto the street, heading home,
to my house.

"You just went from one frying pan to the other," I grumbled, cranking up my radio, hoping to avoid life and shit in general for the weekend, live a few days of peace and quiet in my little house by the lake.

I could pretend I'm on an island
, I thought suddenly, settling in for the long car ride.

No dying loved ones, no misunderstandings... no pissed off lovers or possible new ones staking their claim... no parents with multiple partners, however that works...

Just me and only me.

Yeah, I like that idea.

Maybe I'll even repaint the shudders like I've been meaning to do.

I hadn't been lying when I told Sawyer about my house. It even has cute little white shutters and a pretty blue exterior.

Now I just need to go five seconds without thinking about any of them
, I grumbled to myself, cranking the stereo in my little bug up even more.

Painting, Cake And Bull Nips

I was up on the top rung of my ladder, painting away at the white trim on my house when a bright red, four door truck pulled up.

The driver side door wasn't facing me, so I couldn't see who'd just pulled up in the fairly new, pretty red truck.

A familiar mop of brown cowlicks came peeking up, and I hurried to climb down, careful of the paint and paint brushes.

"What on earth are you doin?!" Ephraim shouted, running towards me. "You should know better than to do somethin' like that all by yourself! Have you lost your mind, woman?!"

"Ugh! Don't you yell at me, Ephraim Caleb Harrison! You aren't the boss of me! And how the hell did you know where I live?!" I harrumphed, wiping my hands off on an old rag.

"I called Barry," he said, taking my paint brush from me.

I frowned up at him, squinting from the sun.

"And how, pray tell, do you know Barry?"

He smiled and rocked back on his heels, setting the paint brush down on top of the paint can.

"Barry used to be a rodeo clown a few years back," he explained, grinning at me, "He quit when a bull reared up and bit him in the ass."

I burst out laughing, trying to picture my cousin running around as a rodeo clown.

"Oh, my god," I laughed, "I would try to call you out on that one, but it rings too close to the truth. I wouldn't put it past Barry to try his hand at it."

"Oh, he was good at it, but once that bull had a little nibble, he was done. I used to hang out with him after the shows."

"Where you a clown too?" I teased.

"NO! I'll have you know I used to ride the bulls," he professed proudly, puffing up his chest, chin jutting out stubbornly.

"Don't go all puffin on me," I giggled, poking his puffed up chest, "I was just kidding."

Once I'd gotten my laughing turned giggling fit under control, I gave him a dubious look.

"It still doesn't explain why you're here though, or how you got Barry to give you my address."

He smiled and studied my front porch, examining the trim I'd been repainting.

Not talkin', eh?

"Got anything to drink, Genny? I'm mighty thirsty.” He gave me his hopeful puppy dog eyes.

I rolled mine at him and walked up into the house.

"Come on, 'E'. I think I have some lemonade with your name on it. I might even have some leftover meatloaf too."

"Hot damn!" He hurried after me, making me laugh as he tried not to bowl me over to get to the fridge.

****

I pulled the meatloaf out of the microwave and grabbed a fork, holding it hostage from him.

"Here's how this is gonna work." I smiled at him sweetly. "You're going to tell me what you told my cousin and I'm going to decide whether or not you're going to eat or wear your meatloaf, deal?"

"Deal," he agreed and snagged up the plate, holding it up high over my head.

"Hey!" I hollered, "That wasn't the deal, damn it!"

"New deal," he belly laughed, choking on his meatloaf when he took a huge bite, and I hissed at him.

I huffed and spluttered, muttering about ungrateful men as I refilled his lemonade and got myself a huge piece of chocolate cake.

Did I mention that it was the last piece?

Ephraim froze as he watched me scoop up a piece, taking a huge bite.

"You have cake too?" he mumbled, drooling over my decadent three layer chocolate devil’s food, pretty blue eyes shining down at me hopefully.

"Nope," I said between bites, keeping my smug smile at bay.

He looked from me to my cake, to the meatloaf, then did that rotation all over again.

He hurriedly finished his meatloaf and set the plate on the counter, chugging down half his lemonade as he watched me take another bite, slowly licking the chocolate frosting off of my fork.