Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5) (13 page)

BOOK: Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5)
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Fuck me
.

The slick heat I find between her swollen folds almost has me come in my jeans, but I manage to control myself and focus instead on her pleasure. The immediate response of her tight channel squeezing the two fingers I pump in and out of her, tells me she is close and I want to see her come undone. Pressing my thumb down on her clit as her hips come off the bed, I demand her attention.

“Eyes on me, Bean. I want you to let go for me.”

“I don’t...I...ohhhhh Jesus!”

Although she isn’t quite screaming
my
name, the satisfaction I get from feeling her convulse on my fingers and watching her face go slack in release, is like no other. Letting her ride out her orgasm on my hand, I finally slide my fingers out and bring them up to my mouth, using my tongue to lick her taste off me, while she watches carefully with heavy-lidded eyes.

“That’s gotta be the hottest thing I’ve seen.”

The sound of her voice is lazy and the smile on her lips spells temptation, but before I have a chance to kiss the smirk off her face, the ringing of her phone pops our bubble.

CHAPTER NINE

“D
on’t get why you can’t just have Mal drop it off here.”

I’ve been moody since Katie called with apologies last night, but Max was puking up a storm. He’d apparently gotten into Blue’s kibble, or so it looked from what he was upchucking. Beth ran out to pick him up and the poor kid did look miserable when he came home. She ended up sleeping with Max in her bed. As for me, if I hadn’t just gotten effectively cockblocked by a two-year-old, I’d probably think it was funny. That kid is something else, constantly into stuff he shouldn’t be into. A certain incident with some bunny ears comes to mind, and this time I do chuckle.

Doesn’t last long though, when Beth announces she has to go to her place before work today. Mal is dropping off some things for Max he picked up when he was cleaning out Dylan’s apartment. 

“Because we’d only have to move it all to my place anyway when the doctor gives you the all clear on Tuesday. Might as well take it directly there.”

I grumble because I don’t like the idea of her going back to her place. Not at all. But she seems adamant. So damn independent, that woman. I’m sitting on the couch with the little man pressed to my side, watching cartoons. This is what I’ve been reduced to. When I look over my shoulder, Beth is leaning against the kitchen counter, her mouth twitching to hold back a smile.

“What’s funny?” God I’m starting to fucking sound like a woman. Apparently it amuses Beth because she finally lets go of that smile she’s been fighting and has a good chuckle.

“You. You’re pouting. I never thought grown men could pout, but there you are; doing it.” The twinkle in her eye lets me know she’s half teasing, but still I slip off the couch, making sure Max’s little body rests against the pillows instead of me and stalk over to where Beth is observing my every move. That’s right, sugar, you watch.

“I don’t pout.” I stop right in front of her and box her in with my arms on the counter so she has to tilt her head back to look up at me.
Perfect angle
, goes through my mind as I cover her mouth with mine and insert my tongue in her mouth, claiming it as mine.

“Whoa,” she exhales when I finally pull back. “What was that all about?”

“That was me making sure you understand that I. Don’t. Pout.”

Her snort tells me she’s not half as impressed as I’d like her to be with my little dominant display, so I bend low and with my lips against the shell of her ear I make her a promise.

“You’re playing with fire, Bean,” I tell her in a low voice. “Keep it up and I’ll have you over my lap in a heartbeat. Won’t be laughing then.”

“Why you...” Beth huffs annoyed, but I’m pleased to see annoyance is not all that plays in her liquid brown eyes; there is heat there too. She likes the idea of being put over my lap, and that leaves me with a boner the size of a tree-log at ten o’clock in the morning. Tempting, oh so tempting, to take this into the bedroom, or on the counter, I’m not that picky, but Max once again makes sure I keep it in my pants.

“Big gah?”

“Yes, little man, I’m coming.” So to speak.

“He’s still not feeling himself this morning,” Beth points out. “Wonder if I should call Arlene and tell her I can’t make it. I don’t want to hand him off to Katie when he’s sick.”

“No need,” I tell her, sitting back on the couch and settling a lethargic Max against me. “I’ve got him. You just go do your thing. Us men will be okay here.”

“You sure?” she asks tentatively. I throw a smile over my shoulder that is intended to show her much more confidence than I’m feeling, ‘cause what do I know about kids?

“Positive.”

Falling for the bluff, Beth takes one last sip of coffee before setting her mug in the sink.

“Well, I best get ready then.” Off she goes to her bedroom, leaving me with an unusually quiet Max cuddled up to me on the couch.

-

“G
ammy?” Max sniffles into my shirt.

He’d fallen asleep half on my lap just an hour or so after Beth left to meet Mal at her house. With his little body warm and heavy on mine, it hadn’t take me long to doze off either, after a virtually sleepless night. When his voice and the small hands patting my face wake me up, I find the TV still on, but the cartoons have morphed into the Sunday afternoon football game. Seeing as they’re midway through the fourth quarter, I’m guessing it’s mid-afternoon or thereabouts.

Looking at Max, I notice a bright red flush on his cheeks and his eyes are shiny. I lift him up and settle him completely on my lap before touching my lips to his forehead, something I’d seen Katie do with Mattias to see if he’s spiking a fever. I’m surprised at the heat coming off this little boy, and his subdued little sniffles that haven’t stopped have me concerned. Before I can get to the phone to call Katie for advice, a rap sounds on the front door. With Max settled in my arms, his warm head resting on my shoulder, I open the door to find Gus on the step.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. Is that Beth’s little boy?”

“Yeah, her grandkid, Max. Come in.” I step aside to let Gus in. “Want something to drink?”

“Nah, I’m good. You sit down before you fall down with the tyke in your arms. I just came by hoping to catch you alone. I saw Beth at the diner earlier, dealing with the Sunday crowd, so I figured it was a safe bet. Didn’t know you were babysitting, though.” Gus takes a seat in the La-Z-boy beside the couch. “I thought Katie was looking after him?”

“He got sick last night, eating Blue’s dog food,” I try to explain, raising a chuckle from Gus. “But now I think it may have been something else that’s had him sick all night; he’s spiking a fever.”

Gus leans forward and touches the backs of his fingers to Max’s forehead, who doesn’t even register it.

“Damn, he’s burning up, man.”

“I know, I was just about to call Katie for some advice.”

Gus already has his phone out and is calling.

“Hey, Peach, are you busy? I stopped at Clint’s and he’s got Beth’s grandbaby, sicker than a dog—what?—yeah, he’s burning up—you sure?—Okay, see you in a few.” He sits back and gestures with his phone. “Emma’s on her way. She says she’ll bring some stuff. Figured I’d call her instead of Katie. Don’t need my woman pissed for not giving her a chance to help. You know Emma, she’s mother hen incarnate.”

I chuckle at that because he’s not wrong. His wife Emma takes nurturing to stratospheric levels, if not with food, with loving, which she does plenty of. Feeling a little better to know someone with some experience is on the way, since I know dick about kids, let alone sick kids, I settle Max a little better in my arms and turn to Gus.

“So what brought you here in the first place?”

His face instantly turns serious.

“This little guy’s dad. Neil managed to get some data off the computer Mal dropped by yesterday.”

I’m surprised, since Neil was there last night, at the clinic’s open house and had some odd stare down going with Mal.

“Already? Does the kid sleep?”

Gus chuckles. “Hardly ever and if he does, it’s not long. Besides, he’s hardly a kid anymore—he’ll be twenty-nine in a month or two.”

“Pffff, anyone with the number ‘twenty’ in their age is a kid to me.”

“Got a point,” Gus concedes. “Anyway, from what he could see, Beth’s boy has been into some heavy online gambling. Started with sports and over time ended up in online casinos.”

“Really? From what I understand from Beth, he’s making a reasonable income, but not nearly enough to be able to afford that.”

“Neil says he appears to have won a bit in the sports betting, had some kind of football fantasy league he was part of that he won after the Superbowl this year, but then he turned to the casinos and hasn’t been that lucky.”

Worry for the possible implications starts sinking in.

“So what are you saying? Reckon he’s gone to Vegas or something? Try his luck there?” I shake my head. “I don’t get it. For all intents and purposes, he finally started getting his feet under him. Makes no sense.”

Gus gives me a flat look.

“It does when you see the kind of spending his wife was into.”

“No shit?”

“Woman had a hole in her hand the size of the Grand Canyon. A spending habit no average guy would be able to keep up with. And that’s just what we can glean from the online Visa bills that were stored on the computer. Spa treatments every few weeks, purchase-accounts at Macy’s online and at local boutiques. Not to mention the restaurant charges on there. The woman must’ve taken everyone in Durango out for lunch at least once. Living a bit above her standards to put it mildly. My guess is, he may have started gambling in hopes of staying on top of his financial situation, but I’m pretty sure addiction set in quickly.”

“Dayum. That’s gonna wreck Beth. That why you’re talking to me, not her?”

Gus nods in response. “That—and the fact that I don’t think he’s headed for Vegas. I think he’s in deep with some lenders. Four months ago he put a decent chunk of money down on the credit card, but he never stopped his online habits. Unfortunately, neither did his wife, so between the two of them they managed to blow fifteen-thousand dollars.”

I whistle at that number, stirring Max in the process who’d fallen asleep in my arms.

“That ain’t no chicken feed.”

“Got that right. I’m pretty sure Beth doesn’t have that kind of money lying around, and I’m equally sure she has no idea what her boy’s been up to. I’d say he hit someone up for money he should’ve steered clear of.”

Tilting my head back, I let the information sink in before reacting.

“Makes sense now. Why the wife took off kinda sudden, and why he dropped his son off at the crack of dawn and disappeared. One thing that bothers me some, though,” I say, as I feel a tingle of unease settle in my stomach. “Yesterday morning Beth answered a call on her cell phone. The guy called from Dylan’s phone, which he claimed to have found in some park. Tried to get her address from her, which the damn woman was about to give him if I’d not stopped her. Moment I got on the phone, he hung up. Don’t think she gave him much more than her name and the town, but still.”

“Actually, Mal told me about the phone thing. I didn’t realize she’d already given out some details. Don’t go jumping to conclusions, though,” he says as he takes in the worry I’m sure is showing on my face. “My guess is you weren’t your friendliest when you got the phone off her, and you may have just pissed off the guy enough to hang up on you. It’s possible he really did just find the phone somewhere.” 

At my raised eyebrow he chuckles and raises his hands defensively. “I’m just saying, keep an eye on that woman and give me and the guys some time to get to the bottom of it.”

Before I get a chance to say anything there’s a knock at the door.

“That’s probably Emma,” Gus says standing up to get the door.

“Where is that baby?” I hear her behind me before she lets out a little squeal. “Gus!”

“Don’t be walking by me without a proper hello, darlin’.”

“I just saw you at lunch.”

“Don’t care.”

After some smooching sounds I’d rather not have been witness to, later Emma comes into view, her one hand leaning on her cane and the other out with her fingers waggling.

“Gimmie that sick little baby.”

“Sit yourself down first, then you can have him. He’s been sluggish and feels like a little oven.”

Once she’s settled in the recliner her husband just vacated, I put Max on her lap. He barely reacts.

“Gus? Can you grab that bag I have hanging on my walker on the front step for me?”

In seconds Gus stands beside her handing her the bag.

“Got my hands full, honey. Can you dig out the little zippered pouch? It has an ear thermometer.”

Smiling indulgently, Gus produces the thing and with some impressively swift movements, Emma has that thing shoved in Max’s ear without him hardly noticing.”

“A hundred and three. That’s borderline, Clint. When’s the last time he drank something?”

I struggle to remember if he has, when I see the half full bottle sitting on the kitchen counter. “Before Beth left, and that was at about ten this morning. Nothing since though.”

“Okay, let’s get some fluids into him. He’s probably dehydrated, which could be why he’s so lethargic. We’ll see how he does, but you still better call Beth.”

-

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