“Let’s eat first kiddo, alright?”

  Her whole body slumped until my leg was holding her weight and I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me.

  “Nan, huh?” I asked Brenna as she leaned in to hug me.

  “Hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Don’t worry, everyone, the party has arrived!” Farrah called out as more people entered the house. Her face showed surprise as she got a good look at me, then she tilted her head. “Dig the hair.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Holy fuck, Poet!” she gasped as she did a double take.

  “Sorry, we’re still working on appropriate words,” Casper grumbled, covering Farrah’s mouth with his hand. “Little ears, Ladybug. Cam! Get your sister, man, she’s trying to eat that plant!”

  “I got her,” Callie called, picking up Cecilia with her free arm, the other holding a tiny baby in a light green blanket.

  “All the food is outside,” I called over the noise of kids and adults talking over each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in years instead of hours.

  They moved like a wave toward the back of the house, except for one person that I’d come to know pretty well in the past couple of months.

  “Thanks for coming, Rose,” I said with a smile as she reached me, holding a bowl of some type of salad in her hands. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

  “Be rude to eat your food and not contribute,” she said with a grin before her face grew serious again. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, self-consciously running my hand over my hair.

  “It’s not the hair,” she said, reaching out to grasp my hand and squeeze it. “It’s the face.”

  She moved past me with a smile, and I turned back toward the front door that my son had just passed through.

  “Hey, kiddo,” I called, walking toward him.

  “Hey, Mum. Place looks good,” he said with a smile, leaning down to hug me. “Brought you something.”

  He handed me a wrapped gift, and I looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

  “I think you’ll like it,” he replied with a smile. “Hey, Trick, nice to see you.”

  I watched them reach forward and shake hands, and felt an overwhelming sense of relief at Nix’s open expression. It wasn’t the same as it was before, but they’d get there eventually.

  “Well?” Nix asked, turning back to me. “Open it.”

  I ripped open the wrapping, then fumbled, almost dropping the frame as I realized what it held.

  “I think that’s the only one,” Nix explained. “I found it in Nan’s things about a year after she passed, and I put it aside. You know, just in case you found it and—”

  “Ye did good, boyo,” Patrick said softly, reaching out to hug Nix tightly. “Real good.”

  I stared down at the photo of me and Patrick on our wedding day, and couldn’t stop the tears that hit my eyes.

  We were so young then.

  Happy.

  “Thank you, son,” I said, finally looking away from the picture. “This is awesome.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied with a wide smile, obviously proud of himself. “Grease outside? I wanted to see if he’d check out my bike while I was here.”

  “Yeah, he’s out back. Are you staying the night?”

  “Probably at Grease and Callie’s.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  With another smile, he left us, and I walked to the window facing the back yard to watch him say hello to everyone. He was so comfortable in the group, like he’d known them his entire life.

  “Good photo,” Patrick murmured, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

  “Great photo,” I agreed.

  “Shall we go get some food?”

  “No, let’s just stay here for a second, okay, baby?”

  “Alright, my love.”

  We stood there and watched our family for a while longer, talking and laughing and teasing each other. The kids ran around like maniacs, screeching, and Rose sat off to the side, a small smile on her face.

  Without thought, he’d given me exactly what he’d promised.

  Four boys.

  A little house with a garden.

  Everything I’d ever wanted.

  Dragon and Brenna

  The night Brenna found out about Poet’s wife Amy…

  Dragon

  “Can you believe that shit?” Brenna bit out, pacing our room. We’d just come from the club and she was so jumped up on adrenaline and anger she couldn’t seem to sit still for more than a minute. I bet she’d ride the fuck outta me if I could get her to stop going on and on about her pop and his wife.

  Secrets never stayed secrets forever, I knew that from experience, and I was a little impressed by the fact that Poet had been hiding a wife for damn near thirty years. Christ.

  “I mean, I know Nix. I’ve seen him around since we were teenagers and I had no idea that he’s what—my brother? Is he my brother? I don’t even understand how all this shit works!”

  I stayed silent while she ranted, pulling off my boots and jeans before sitting on the side of our bed to take off my socks, wondering if she was going to calm down any time soon. I knew she was upset—I got it. But fuck, the kids were gone for the night and I wanted to fuck my woman eighteen different ways in every room of the damn house.

  “I mean, what if I had a thing for him! I could’ve fucked my damn brother!”

  I scowled at her words, the idea of her fucking anyone making my jaw clench in fury, before realizing how ridiculous that scenario was. I couldn’t help it. I started fucking laughing.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No,” I tried to say, my stomach beginning to hurt with the force of my chuckles. “Baby, come here.”

  “No,” she replied flatly, glaring at me from across the bed.

  “Here, Brenna. Now,” I said flatly, any amusement I’d felt gone in an instant. I fucking understood that she was all worked up. She’d found out a ton of fucked up shit tonight that she’d had no clue about, but that bullshit was not going to affect our relationship. She wasn’t going to glare at me because she was pissed at her pop. Fuck that.

  “What?” She stomped toward me until I could grasp her hips and pull her between my knees.

  “Nix is gay,” I informed her, watching her closely.

  “What?” Her face screwed up in confusion, her nose wrinkling.

  “Your brother is gay.”

  “Oh.” Her head pulled back a little in surprise.

  “Yeah.” I chuckled a little. I wasn’t sure how she’d missed it. “So your pop never had any reason to worry you’d be fuckin’ him.”

  “Well, how would he—”

  “Your pop’s known since Nix was a kid, baby.”

  “Oh.” She grew quiet for a couple of minutes, and I swear I could almost see her mind racing. “How do you know so much?” she finally asked accusingly.

  “Known Nix for years, Brenna. Same as you. Talked with the man plenty. Didn’t know the connection with Poet, but I knew there was one.”

  “This is insane,” she whispered, her tense body finally relaxing a bit as she sagged toward me. “Did you hear what she said—”

  “Yeah,” I interrupted her softly, pushing her hair away from her face. “Heard it. Wish I hadn’t.”

  “Do you think that’s why she helped me?” Her face was so full of confusion and hurt, I wished we could have missed the entire fucked up scene at the club that night.

  “Probably.”

  “She got me to you. She saved us.”

  “Played a part,” I agreed. I fucking owed that woman—no doubt about that. Poet’s wife. What a fucking trip.

  “I just—I’m not sure what to do.”

  “You don’t need to do nothin’.” I ran my hands up and down her thighs as she lifted her hands to the sides of my neck. “That’s their business, got
me? Poet and his wife—”

  “Amy,” she cut in.

  “Right. Amy. Poet and Amy need to get their own shit figured out. That’s got nothin’ to do with you.”

  “But maybe—”

  “Brenna. That shit’s got nothin’ to do with you.”

  “Fine,” she snapped in agreement, but I could tell she was already trying to figure out a way to get neck deep in that mess.

  “You see her, you make her welcome if that’s what you wanna do.”

  “I do. I really do. Did you see the way Pop looked at her? God, I’ve never seen—”

  “Brenna!” I barked, making her mouth snap shut in surprise. Shit, if she got started on it again, we’d be discussing Poet’s marriage all fucking night. “We’ve got one night. One fuckin’ night without kids, when I can make ya fuckin’ scream. Can we get to that?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

  “Baby, you wanna keep harpin’ on that shit with your pop, fine. But do it silently, while I fuck ya.” I whipped her t-shirt off and immediately reached behind her to open the back of her bra.

  “That’s disgusting,” Brenna mumbled, but she didn’t stop me as I peeled off her jeans and underwear.

  God, the woman could make me hard as a rock fully clothed, but when she was naked I had a hard time going slow enough for her to keep up with me.

  I pushed her back a little and stood, watching as the bra slid off her shoulders, her nipples pebbled and her eyes grew dark. Shit, if I’d known all it took to get her mind off Poet was to strip her, I would have done that shit half an hour before. She reached forward to grip my shirt, but I stopped her with a small shake of my head.

  “Take it off.”

  “You’re too tall,” she argued, a small smile pulling up the sides of her mouth.

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  We stood there for a bit, neither one of us willing to back down, until suddenly her hands were peeling off my boxers and she was dropping to her knees.

  When her lips wrapped around me, I almost fucking tripped over the boxers around my ankles as I stumbled back.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, reaching out to wrap my hand in her hair to pull it away from her face. My other hand went instinctively behind my neck to rip my shirt off so I could see her.

  She was sucking hard—making a point—but I didn’t give a fuck. She had my entire cock in her mouth, I’d agree to anything at that point.

  She slid off slowly after swallowing around my dick, and looked up at me with a smug smile. “I figured it out.”

  It took me a second before I understood what she was talking about. I’d taken off my own fucking shirt.

  “You’re beautiful,” I blurted, smiling huge as I reached down to help her to her feet.

  “You taste good,” she replied, leaning forward to kiss my chest softly.

  She squealed as I bent down and grabbed her around the thighs, lifting her above me as I turned toward the bed and almost smacking her head on the fucking ceiling fan she’d made me install a week before. Luckily, I just missed the blades and she didn’t even notice.

  I dropped her on the bed, watching her tits bounce as she landed, then looked up her body, finally meeting her eyes. She was so gorgeous she made my chest ache.

  “You gonna stay all the way up there?” she asked, lifting her arms above her head.

  I grinned at her and reached up to pull my hair back, using a rubber band around my wrist to hold it.

  “Keep it down,” she ordered huskily.

  “You can take it down in a bit.”

  Her nostrils flared at my words and she parted her legs, pulling her knees up and back toward the bed.

  “Fuck me,” I mumbled, diving in.

  She tasted good. All women tasted different, some sweeter, some saltier, but Brenna tasted far better than any others I’d had. There was something different, something that was just her, that had me coming back for more every time. The smell of her was insane, and I loved the way it clung to my beard after we were done. Everything about her turned me on.

  I had to go easy at first. Always easy at the beginning. It took her a bit before she could handle more than the softest movements of my mouth, and I had to work up to what she needed. My woman loved it when I used my teeth, but trying anything rough before she was ready had her cringing and pulling away because she said it hurt. I didn’t know if she even realized how rough I got by the time I was making her come.

  Her legs stiffened against my shoulders and I quickly clamped my hands on her thighs as she arched away from my mouth. Craziest fucking shit—every time Brenna came, her body moved away from instead of toward what was making her feel good. I had to hold her still as she thrashed, and the harder she came, the harder she tried to pull away.

  As she came back down, I let go of her legs, giving her one last soft kiss on her clit as I moved up her body.

  “Feel good?” I asked quietly as she reached out to tenderly pull the rubber-band from my hair.

  “You always make me feel good.”

  I reached down to pull her knee into the crook of my elbow and she inhaled sharply as my balls brushed against her sensitive pussy.

  “Take me inside,” I ordered, leaning down to kiss her. Her hand wrapped around my dick as my tongue pushed into her mouth.

  We both groaned as I slid inside her.

  She was wet as hell, but she was so swollen from her orgasm that the fit was tight. So fucking tight. Goddamn.

  I slid out and paused as her neck arched before slamming back in again.

  She made a noise deep in her throat that almost had me pausing—I didn’t want to fucking hurt her—but then she was arching into me.

  Begging.

  I loved that shit.

  “Don’t stop,” she panted, reaching down to grip her free leg.

  “Jesus,” I gasped, “So fucking hot.”

  I bit her lip and gave it a little suck before leaning back so I was kneeling above her. “Grab the other one.”

  I watched her grasp the other knee. She was holding herself open for me with her knees spread wide and her tits bouncing all over the place as I pounded inside her.

  I paused, pulling the pillow out from under her head to stuff under her hips.

  “I’m not sleeping on that one,” she bitched breathlessly with a small laugh.

  “Pretty sure at this point you’d do whatever the fuck I told you to,” I replied, leaning forward to pull one of her nipples into my mouth. I moved back and forth, sucking and biting her nipples until she was squirming and squeezing my dick.

  “Move,” she mumbled, closing her eyes tight. “Move, move, move, move…”

  I smiled huge as I took her in, and finally pulled out of her completely just so I could watch her eyes pop open in stunned disbelief.

  “You’re on top, you can pretend you’re in charge.” I slid back in hard, groaning as she let out a startled yell that turned into a deep moan.

  She felt so damn good. She always felt good—every single time. Didn’t matter how we were doing it, or where we were doing it. Best sex of my life every time.

  I laid my thumb above her clit, pressing downward until my dick was sliding against her with every pass. Only a few minutes later, my hands were gripping my hips as she came around me.

  I followed her, barely breathing as I came hard inside her.

  “Kiss me,” she said quietly, her hands sliding from behind her thighs so she could grip my wrists as I tried to catch my breath.

  “I think you killed me,” I mumbled into her mouth. “Death by pussy.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I groaned as I fell to my side, pulling her with me.

  “Been a long night,” I said, stretching my legs out and popping my ankles. “Shower with me, and hit the sack?”

  “I’m not sure I have the energy,” she moaned back, cuddling closer into my chest.

  I kissed her forehead and got out of bed, t
hen leaned down to pick her up so I could carry her into the shower. We were sweaty as fuck and she’d be uncomfortable if she tried to fall asleep that way.

  “You’re so good to me,” she sighed as I set her on her feet and turned the shower on, taking the icy spray of water against my back so it wouldn’t hit her before it heated up.

  “’Course I’m good to you.”

  “It’s just—I don’t know what I’d do if we weren’t together for thirty years—”

  “Christ, Brenna! We’re back to that already?”

  She giggled at the scowl on my face and wrapped her arms around my waist.

  “Glad you think it’s funny,” I mumbled, turning to the side so she got sprayed right in the face with lukewarm water.

  “Shit!” she yelled, trying to pull back as I held her against me. “We need a better water heater!”

  “Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” I replied, turning back so she was out of the water. “Right after I put the new roof on and add another fuckin’ bedroom, and put in the new floors you’ve been wantin’.”

  “See,” she said happily, “Good to me.”

  “I’ll always be good to you, you keep givin’ head the way you do.”

  She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, resting her chin on my chest. “Love you.”

  “Love you too, baby.”

  I reached for the girly soap she had hanging from the shower rod and poured some into my hand. I washed her as her body as she began to relax, and I was thankful as fuck when she nodded off, her head resting against my chest.

  We’d deal with Poet’s shit tomorrow. Tonight, I was gonna let Brenna sleep or keep her so busy she wasn’t thinking of anything but me.

  Grease and Callie

  Years after Callie and Grease move to Oregon…

  Callie

  “You hate your daddy?” Asa said softly to our four month old daughter as she raised her head off his shoulder in an effort to stay awake. “’Cause I gotta tell you, Rosie, your brothers never did this.”

  I grinned as I stood unnoticed in our bedroom doorway, watching him pace the floor and rub her back. Asa was so different with Rosie than he’d been with the boys when they were her age. To be fair, my boys were built like tanks, just like their dad—but it was more than that. He was softer with her.