Twist

  Holy shit, were we complicating things. We were out of control.

  "Building?" asked Eric, voice heavy with disbelief.

  "Yes." Teeth gritted, I smiled.

  "Banging, screwing," said Joe. "You know."

  With a loud huff, Eric sat back in his seat, not taking his eyes off me for a minute. And the look he gave me let me know, I was not making his birthday great.

  "Eric?" asked Audrey, gaze racing back and forth between the two of us, Mommy-danger senses obviously on high alert. "Why don't I get you another beer?"

  "It's fine, Mom."

  "You got a problem?" asked Joe, brow wrinkling.

  "She's using you," hissed Eric. "Can't you see that?"

  "So?"

  I turned to Joe, startled.

  "What the fuck do you mean, so?" asked Eric.

  "Language," said Stan, not looking up from his plate.

  Both of the brothers ignored him.

  "What I let Alex use me for is none of your business," said Joe.

  "It is if it involves me." Cheeks sucked in, Eric glared at his brother. "This isn't about sex, you idiot. It's about her coming to town for me. Using you, to try and get to me."

  My blood, it boiled. "No, I--"

  "That's what I'm not okay with." Eric raised his voice, continuing over the top of me. Jerkwad. "And if you'd start thinking with your brain instead of your dick, you'd feel the same."

  Stan pounded the table with his fist, making the cutlery rattle. "Language!"

  "Boys." Audrey's eyes were wide and her lips thin. "If you need to discuss this further you'll do so later. We're having a family lunch. Enough."

  Where they'd ignored their father, both brothers shut their mouths when it came to their mother. It was telling.

  "Thank you," said Audrey, picking up her knife and fork once more. "And I'll have no more talk of banging and screwing at the table. I don't live under a rock, you know."

  Eric and Joe both cleared their throats, uncomfortable, and I stared down at my plate.

  "Sorry, Audrey." I respected the woman. I really did. But so many emotions fired inside of me, warming my cheeks, making my hands tremble. I hated conflict. Funny, given how often I seemed to find myself in such situations. Courage had never been my strong suit. No way, however, would I allow Joe to be insulted. Especially not because of me.

  "You're wrong, Eric," I said, studying the remains of my home-cooked meal. "I can assure you that my interest in your brother has nothing to do with you."

  Joe's big hand slid over mine, giving it a squeeze. "It's okay."

  "No, it's not." I pushed back my seat and slowly rose to my feet, looking down at his brother. "Eric, for your birthday, I'm going to give you the gift of wisdom. Something you should have figured out for yourself years ago."

  The man tipped his chin, inviting me to go on.

  "You seem to have this misguided idea that a woman couldn't possibly pass you over for your brother. You're wrong." I sucked in a deep breath. "Joe doesn't need to lie and he sure as shit doesn't need to worry about your leftovers. Or whatever it is you're trying to infer. You're so busy over in Eric world, you honestly have no idea. Joe is smart, funny, loyal, sweet, hardworking, kind, caring, and generally amazing in all the ways."

  "Christ," mumbled Joe, hiding a smile behind his hand.

  Audrey's jaw dropped while Stan's brows started to rise.

  Eric said nothing.

  "And he's a beautiful man, even if he does insist on having a beard," I said. "He's gorgeous. Also, he's a gentleman, earlier comments about banging and such notwithstanding. You did a really good job raising him, Audrey."

  Silence surrounded me.

  "I think that's about all I wanted to say. Sorry about the language."

  Eric's green eyes glared at me.

  I glared right back.

  Then my hand was lifted, pressed against Joe's firm lips. "Sit down, Little Miss Sunshine."

  "Okay." I sat.

  More of that pesky silence.

  Audrey was staring off at the wall. I hope I hadn't done the woman any permanent damage by discussing her eldest son's awesomeness in all the ways. Some things, however, had to be said.

  I chewed on my thumbnail, a frown set in place.

  Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Crap.

  At the end of the table, Eric downed the last of his beer and stood. "Anyone else need another drink?"

  "Please," "yes," "hell yes," and last but not least, a grunt of assent from Stan.

  It took a while for conversation to get up and going again after my announcement, even with the added social lubrication of more booze. Joe's mom had a strange quirk to her lips. I wouldn't call it a smile exactly. Maybe it was gas. And every now and then Stan would look at me, then frown. Eric and I went back to ignoring each other, which was probably for the best. His I-am-God attitude annoyed the shit out of me. Obviously.

  "Stopped by the job you've been going on about this morning," said Stan. "Thought you would have been there. Had to get Andre to let me in, show me around."

  Joe finished chewing what was in his mouth before answering. "Sorry. We had a late start."

  A grunt from Stan.

  "What'd you think?"

  Lip curled, his dad shook his head. "No good. Job's too big. Plus I promised the Rosentons we'd get started on their gazebo. Told Andre to call someone else, Peters, maybe. Pick up your tools when you go into the bar next time."

  Then, as if the matter had been decided, the man picked up his knife and fork and chased the last of his peas around the plate. Both Audrey and Eric acted distracted, eyes elsewhere. Staring at the family pictures on the wall, the old shots of Joe on his high school football field, a teenage Eric playing the drums. There was even a shot of Audrey with big hair in a white debutante dress.

  Obviously, this sort of scene was nothing new for the family. For a long silent moment, Joe just stared at his father. His thigh had turned rock hard against mine, tension radiating. I grabbed his hand as he'd done mine. Solidarity.

  "We'll be starting early Monday, Joe." Stan gave me side-eyes. "On time. No excuses."

  Joe took a deep breath. "No."

  "What the hell do you mean no?"

  "This job's important to me," said Joe. "I've made commitments to Pat and Andre. No, I'm not walking away from it."

  "You shouldn't have given them any definites until I'd been to the site." His father never even looked up from his plate. "You know better."

  "I'm not a child, Dad. I can make decisions about jobs."

  "Apparently you can't, because the renovation is too damn big." Stan set his cutlery down with great zest. "All of those rooms needing work. What the hell were you thinking? With my arthritis playing up I can barely even get up the damn stairs."

  "Then you need to think about taking a backseat. Let me take over and manage things for a change."

  Audrey gasped.

  Meanwhile, Eric seemed to have frozen in his chair.

  "Christ, Dad, I'm doing the bulk of the work as it is," said Joe. "It's time."

  Blood suffused Stan's face. "That's my business you're talking about. The business that I built."

  "Yeah. The one that I was meant to be a partner in, that's what you said. Collins and Son." Joe sat tall. "You haven't been able to work full-time for nearly three years now. I'm not trying to kick you out, but I'm done building birdhouses and fixing squeaky doors because that's the most you can manage. I'm sorry. But I want more."

  "You want." Stan's voice seemed to almost rattle up from his chest.

  "Come on, Dad. Be reasonable." Joe pushed his hair back from his face. "It's time to loosen up on the reins a little. Let me take on more. You taught me well, I won't disappoint you or tarnish the family name or something. Trust me."

  Nothing from his father.

  "I can go out on my own, if you'd prefer." Joe's grip on my fingers tightened to the point of being painful, but I held on. This was what we'd talked about, losing our bad ha
bits, fixing our lives. Finally, he was done doing whatever was easiest, what pleased other people even if it left him with little.

  Stan's hands curled into fists. "You'd abandon me, boy, after everything I've done for you?"

  "Christ. You can't have it both ways, Dad," said Eric with a sigh. "He's done everything he can to make you happy. To make you proud."

  "I don't want to hear a goddamn thing from you." The man glowered at one and all. "Of course you'd be on his side. Too damn lazy and stupid for real work, weren't you?"

  "Yes. So you can growl at me all you like," said Eric, jaw set in a harsh line. "But this isn't about me. It's about Joe. Hell, it's about Mom too, though she'd never say it. How do you think she feels, watching you struggle, watching you work yourself into an early grave?"

  Their father turned to stare at her, seemingly out of words for once.

  "You've been promising her Hawaii since before I was born," added Joe. "Can't count all the times you two have talked about it."

  That seemed to stop him.

  "Audrey?" asked Stan, voice hesitant.

  With a sigh, she watched him with sad eyes. "I'll be sixty-two next year and you're sixty-six. We're getting old, honey. It's not an insult, it's a fact. And yes, I worry about you. Of course I do."

  Eyelids blinking repetitively, Stan stepped back from the table. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room.

  The house sat in silence. It could have been the calm after the storm, or we might have been in the eye of it. Hard to tell.

  "I think that went pretty well." Eric sank back in his seat, hands behind his head. "Could have done without hearing about my brother's supposed super-penis but, other than that, not the worst Collins family gathering ever."

  Joe snorted.

  His mother huffed out a breath, then took a long sip of beer. A healthy mouthful of the good stuff, actually. Fair enough, seemed justified.

  "Mom?" asked Eric. "You okay?"

  "Yes," she said calmly. "But none of you deserve cake."

  *

  Lunch wound up rather quickly after Stan stormed out. I think Audrey was ready for a little peace and quiet.

  Joe had to work at the Dive Bar that night. I set myself up in a corner and caught up on some work on my laptop. Spinach and ricotta cannelloni and a beer were brought to my table first, followed by a five-layer chocolate cake. With my stomach so full, I had to fight off the need to nap, face flat on the table. Luckily, Eric decided they could do without Joe after ten-thirty so we returned to the hotel.

  Nothing further had been mentioned about his super-penis or my speech vaguely referring to the same.

  Surely, this was why people didn't generally take me home to meet Mom. Not that I generally wanted anyone to. Joe Collins may or may not have been an exception; my feelings regarding him were still a big hot mess. I told Valerie about it, seeing as she was the official keeper of my secrets. The woman laughed until she cried. So much for loyalty.

  I unlocked the hotel room door and stopped cold.

  "The room is flickering," I said, looking back over my shoulder at Joe.

  "Is it?" His smile was secretive, sneaky, even.

  "Yeah. Must have been all of those drugs I took in the sixties."

  The bearded wonder chuckled, following me into the wonderfully mood-lit room. Tiny little fake candles sat in frosted glasses all around the place, including in the bathroom.

  "Pretty," I said, checking out the shadows dancing across the ceiling. "You have anything to do with this?"

  "Nah."

  I nodded, not believing him an inch.

  Bubbles filled the spa bath and a couple of beers sat in a bucket of ice at its side. On the counter sat a vase packed full of roses.

  "I really wish my other boyfriend hadn't done this," I said. "Makes it a bit awkward with you being here and everything."

  Joe just stared at me.

  "What?" I smiled.

  "You just called me your boyfriend."

  Oh shit. My mouth opened, my mind reeled. Man, was it my day for stepping in it. "Ah, I, um ... oops. A labeling accident mid-joke. Let's pretend it never happened."

  He blinked. "Okay."

  "Great. Phew."

  He took hold of the bottom of my sweater, carefully peeling it up and over my head. A demure white bra awaited him below. No matching panties. What with the necessary post-conjugal sleep-in this morning, I just hadn't been that organized. Speaking of which, "Who did you get to do all this?"

  "Lady at the front desk was happy to help."

  "That's nice."

  The thing about consorting with giants, they had a habit of just putting you where they liked. Joe grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the bathroom counter, pulling off my booties and socks.

  "It's really beautiful," I said, reaching out to touch the petals of a rose. "Thank you."

  "Consider yourself wooed."

  "Got it."

  Then I was back standing on the floor, my jeans disappearing fast. Happily, he didn't appear to be disappointed by my lavender lace boy shorts. Hands down my bare back in a distinctly proprietorial fashion. They certainly weren't shy.

  "Hey," he whispered, drawing me in against him. "What you said at lunch, I appreciated it, the way you stood up for me. Next time though, let's not talk ever, even remotely, about sex in front of my parents, okay?"

  "Right. Okay. That sounds fair enough."

  I checked out the waiting tub again, giving it side-eyes, trying not to be nervous. It was clean and white and lovely. No blood or anything. Nothing to fear here. The past was gone.

  "What are you thinking?" he asked.

  "That I could do with some good memories in bathrooms."

  A grunt. Luckily for him, it sounded different than his father's. Joe's grunt had a vibe of understanding as opposed to Stan's grumpiness and general dissatisfaction. I could deal with Joe's grunt just fine.

  "You going to tell me what that's about sometime?" he asked.

  "Sometime." Not now. I didn't want to ruin the mood he'd gone to so much effort to create. Instead, I reached up, pressing my lips against his. Once we started kissing there could be nothing wrong. Joe's teeth, lips, and tongue made everything right. Usually I didn't waste a lot of time with the preliminaries. With him, however, all of it was good and worthwhile. When his hands slid into my underwear, cupping my butt cheeks, encouraging me, all was wow. Standing before him almost naked while he remained fully dressed made the power dynamic shift into his capable hands. I'd given it over.

  The pterodactyls in my tummy were making their presence known again. Overheating me, turning me into a weak-kneed fool. I don't know if it was due to our closer relationship or his talented dick. Both things probably made this thing with Joe take on so much more meaning than my usual "slam, bam, thank-you man" orgasm exchanges.

  The bath might not be so deep, but I'd still be out of my depth. Never mind. My swimming skills weren't so bad. And if they failed me, I was pretty damn sure Joe wouldn't.

  "I know you're a little sore," he said, nuzzling my neck, my ear. "Thought we could soak together."

  "Aw. Did you have a hard night last night too?"

  "Like you wouldn't believe." His soft laughter was downright dirty, making a shiver run up my spine. "Plus, I got this dream of you, bare-ass naked, wearing nothing but bubbles. Had to make that happen."

  A thrill ran right through me at his words. Goose bumps covered my arms. "You been having dirty thoughts about me, Mr. Collins?"

  "Constantly."

  "Since when?"

  He looked away, a rosy kind of hue on his cheeks. No. Way. The man was blushing. Mixed with his wild long wavy hair and mountain man beard, it was such a surprise, pure delight.

  "I'd rather not say," came the mumble from deep in his large, solid chest.

  "Hmm." I rested my chin on his chest, gazing up at him. "Joe, tell me some of your non-PG-rated thoughts, please."

  Brows scrunched up, he sighed and tucked my hair b
ehind one of my ears. His breath warmed my neck, teeth tugging gently at my lobe. It tickled.

  "Hey." I smiled. "Talk."

  "Little Miss Fucking Sunshine, I'm not that original." His nose brushed the side of my face, lips teasing my neck.

  Mouth open ever so slightly, I waited.

  "Fucking you in all sorts of ways. Different positions." A soft breath. "Pretty much on every surface in this room. And in my truck too."

  "Mm?"

  "Licking you all over, eating your sweet pussy."

  "That sounds nice."

  "Yeah?" His lips dragged along my jawline, hands pressing into me. "How about if I wanted to play with this gorgeous tight ass?"

  "Um." Not being an idiot, I hesitated for only about half a second. "That could probably be arranged."

  The man groaned, burying his face in my neck. Something was definitely filling the front of his jeans in a big way, digging into my stomach.

  "Basically," he said, voice little more than a rumble, "with your permission, I just want to hold you down and make love to you for a good long time, watching your face as you come."

  I pulled back, wrinkling my nose at him. "Seriously?"

  Joe just shrugged. "You asked."

  "It's not making love, it's sex. And God, you and the eye contact." My shoulders slumped, body sagging. "Why?"

  "Relax, Alex. I still want to kiss, lick, bite, and spank you. Fuck you good and hard every way I know how. A little bit of staring into each other's eyes is not the end of the world." He kissed me on the forehead. "If you gave yourself a chance to get used to it, you might even find you enjoy it."

  I huffed out a breath. "Once. But only because I like you."

  Slowly, he nodded. "Thank you. I like you too."

  "Tomorrow for the rest?"

  "Tomorrow, when you're not so sore." His big hands cupped my face, angling me up for a kiss. Such a sweet man. "For now, naked covered in bubbles, sitting on my lap, drinking a beer."

  I reached behind my back, undoing the clasp on my bra. "Can I tell you all my sexually twisted dirty thoughts too?"

  His grin was pure predator. "I'd like that."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Message sent three weeks ago:

  ME: The Man Seat. Your turn.

  HIM: Cowgirl

  ME: Doggy style

  HIM: Lap Dance

  ME: Spoon

  HIM: Shoulder holder

  ME: The handy man

  HIM: What's that one?

  ME: Man seat, but do it on the washing machine with a good spin cycle going on.