Chapter 11
An hour later I was sitting at the kitchen table, my chin resting on my hand as I listened to Luke and Jackson trading tales back and forth. I had found the downstairs bathroom, but not before I found Brandon’s bedroom (which looked like a disaster area), and I had put my jeans and panties back on, choosing to keep Luke’s shirt on instead of changing back into mine. Brandon was due back any time now, and I was hoping it would be soon so I could talk him into carving pumpkins with me, since Luke had obviously forgotten that I was there.
Jackson was talking to Luke, and they both were laughing. I took a moment to study him. He was hot, definitely another stack of deliciousness. He was about six-four, broad shouldered, and fit, with soft, deep brown eyes framed by long lashes that did nothing to detract from his masculinity, close cropped black hair, tanned skin, and the cutest dimple in his cheek when he smiled that gave him a boyish air.
I figured that I should be embarrassed because, hello, he definitely caught us in the act! But honestly, they hadn’t paid any attention to me since Jackson had winked at me by the door. I sighed and then gave a weak smile when I realized that they were both staring at me.
“Bored, Emma?” Luke asked, smiling at me, his eyes dancing. “Sorry, baby, I’ve been rude. Jackson is an old friend of mine from high school. We were inseparable back in the
day but I haven’t seen his sorry ass in a while!”
“Hi, Emma. So nice to meet you,” Jackson said, his voice deep and even toned. “Forgive me for intruding earlier. I wanted to surprise Luke, but I think I’m the one who was surprised!” He started laughing and Luke joined in, apparently not embarrassed in the least at being caught with his pants down. Literally.
I felt myself blush and sighed in relief when Brandon walked through the door, Doug hot on his heels. I jumped up out of my seat and ran to Brandon, who took a step back at my exuberance.
“Hey!” I crowed at him, “Ready to carve pumpkins?” I knew I sounded like a kid, but Halloween was one of my favorite holidays. My other was Christmas, but I think that’s a given. Who doesn’t like presents? I have no shame, I’m a present whore.
Brandon grinned at me, nodding his head and saying, “Yeah. Sounds good, just let me change.” He took off toward his bedroom and I wondered how long it would take him to find something in there. If he could…
“Emma?” Luke said behind me.
I turned around slowly, not sure I was ready to face them again. I raised a questioning brow at him.
Luke was standing right behind me and he slid his arms around me, kissing me lightly on my lips. “Jacks is going to stay here for a few nights, so are you cool with us sleeping here rather than your place?”
“Oh, no, Luke, you don’t have to worry about that. You guys can stay here and hang out. You haven’t seen each other in a while and I’ve got to go to my mom’s tomorrow. We’ll just carve pumpkins and, if you don’t mind, you can run me home and then spend some time with Jackson.”
Luke’s face went hard. “Emma, you aren’t leaving. I want you in my arms, in my bed tonight, sugar, and I’m getting’ inside you again, too. We’re not done.”
I shivered at his words, but kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to argue in front of Jackson and Brandon, who had found something to change into a lot quicker than I would have thought. They were grinning at each other and doing the same manly display of affection that Luke and Jackson had engaged in earlier. I shook my head.
Luke found some newspaper and we spread it out on the table before plunking the pumpkins down on it and divvying up the carving tools. Brandon and I argued over my pumpkin. It was one I had picked out specifically for myself because it was the perfect carving shape, and Brandon knew it, too. He tried bribing me with everything under the sun to get my pumpkin, but I wasn’t budging. Nu-uh, no way, no how!
Then we argued over the designs we each were going to do. I was nice and gave Luke first pick, and, after offering Jackson one of the smaller pumpkins I had picked out, gave him second pick, which pissed Brandon off again. At least until Jackson declined a design pattern, simply stating that he wanted to free hand it.
Brandon crowed in glee and grabbed the book from my hand; I didn’t fight him. Then I laughed until I thought I would piss myself when I pulled out the second book we had gotten at the store and calmly flipped to the design I had already picked out for myself. Brandon saw the book and, like a five year old, yelled, “Cheater! Luke! Emma’s
cheating!”
Luke just shook his head and laughed.
Brandon shut up real quick as I picked up the long sharp knife I had gotten out of their kitchen to cut the lid holes in the pumpkins and pointed it at him. (Which is a no-no, kids. Do as I say, not as I do!)
Carving pumpkins is messy, and even more so when Jackson and Brandon are involved. That’s why, two hours later when we were standing outside looking at the pumpkins all in a row along the front porch, each glowing brightly from a small votive candle in its belly, we were all (and I mean all) covered in pumpkin guts. Doug looked like he had an orange spaghetti wig on top of his head, Brandon’s face was orange (Ha! Served him right for putting pumpkin in my hair), and both Luke and Jackson had pieces of pumpkin and seeds stuck to them everywhere. The kitchen looked like the pumpkins had exploded and we Rock, Paper, Scissor-ed to see who would get stuck with cleanup. Fortunately for me, Jackson was the one who actually lost and now has to clean the mess. He tried to play the guest card, and he would have gotten away with it if Luke hadn’t reminded me that he was actually the one who started the pumpkin fight.
We all headed inside to clean up, Jackson tackling the kitchen first, Brandon heading to the downstairs shower, while Luke pulled me upstairs, gave me another one of his shirts to wear, and then got me naked in the shower. No, we didn’t have shower sex, because we were supposed to meet Jackson and Brandon back downstairs for pizza, beer, and maybe a movie. But I was still hopeful to experience that one.
Luke threw my clothes into the washer with theirs when we got downstairs, and I folded myself onto the couch with a light flannel blanket covering my bare legs, leaning into Luke’s side. Brandon had ran into town to pick up the pizza and grab some beer, and Jackson was finally in the shower downstairs. Luke was flipping through the channels on the tv when I heard my cell phone ringing in the bottom of my purse, which was sitting on the coffee table. I grabbed it and answered without looking at the caller display before they could hang up.
“Hello?”
“What’s up, Em? How’s tricks, woman?” The voice was slurred and I pulled the phone back from my ear to look at the number. It wasn’t one I recognized.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“What? You don’t know your man’s voice? Wha’ tha fuck, Emmy?”
It clicked in my head then. It was Douche Bag Brad. Why the hell was he calling me?
“What do you want, Brad?” I asked shortly. I felt Luke tense beside me.
“How’s about you come over here and be a good lil’ girl like you’re s’posed to? I got things that need tendin’ to, woman. And pick up some beer on your way and maybe I’ll be nice and fuck you.”
“Brad, we broke up a year ago. You slept with your next door neighbor and I caught you two in bed, at which time you told me I was a whore and then called me a frigid bitch. You’re drunk, lose my number, and fuck you.” I hung up and powered my phone off.
