“Um,” she hedges sweetly.
“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out someday so I can make you smile like that too.” Her eyes go a little wide, but she doesn’t tell me to get lost, so I’ll take it as a win for now.
She was right about Memphis being here soon—I hear the old truck pull into the driveway before I can see him. We’re going to have to move the cars around, since her car is the only one that can hold us all.
A key sliding into the lock has me peering over at her and whispering, “I won’t tell him it was unlocked when I got here.”
“Okay,” she mumbles back conspiratorially.
It’s like Memphis knows we were scheming the second he walks into the quiet kitchen. After closing the door, he sets his bag on the counter while watching Waylynn. With slow, measured movements, he unbuttons his cuffs and rolls them up his arms without speaking. As soon as he’s done, she blurts out, “I forgot to lock the door.”
I burst out laughing, and she spares me a quick glance before Memphis approaches her, his lips just barely curled into a smile that is so intimate, it tips my voyeuristic tendencies, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get hard watching him with her. It’s like he doesn’t even know I’m in the room, or more likely he doesn’t care, and I fucking love it.
I watch Waylynn tip her head back so she can keep her eyes locked on his as he nears. When he’s within touching distance, he slides his palm around the side of her neck, pushes his fingers into the back of her hair, then places his lips right over hers and murmurs, “Be more careful.”
Her head bobs a little when she swallows. He must take it as her acquiescence, because he kisses her tenderly and slowly. I watch his tongue slip into her mouth, and my balls tighten. As if his closeness isn’t enough, he invades her space a little more, bringing his other hand up so she’s cradled in his palms. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, squeezing like she never wants him to move.
After a few long seconds, the kiss slows, but not before Memphis nibbles on her lips, which makes Waylynn lean in closer to him, as if she can’t get enough of the way he abuses her mouth. When the kiss ends, he stays close to her, wrapping his arm around her neck and shoulder, then turns to face me. “Hey.” The thickness in his tone says he’s just as affected by her and the kiss as I was by watching it.
“Hey,” I reply.
The corner of his lip curls, and I know I’ve been caught. The good thing is he doesn’t seem upset. “Have you heard from Oz?” he asks Waylynn, who only shakes her head. When her hair shifts with the movement, I notice the bruise on the side of her neck. It’s not lost on me that was exactly where Memphis held her. I wonder if he was reminding her of when he did it. “He shouldn’t be too much longer. Should we head over to the field house to pick him up?”
“We need to move the cars around, unless we’re taking separate vehicles.”
“Mind if we use your car, sweetness?”
“Not at all, as long as one of you drives. I don’t want to be the cause of another photo op like yesterday.”
“They say all press is good press, right?” I rise from the stool and present her crutches to her from where they were leaning against the counter.
“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen some stuff that shouldn’t have been printed.” She sounds like she’s speaking from experience, yet her tone doesn’t make me eager to ask her about it.
“Don’t let it bother you. I need to use the bathroom, be right back.” Memphis pulls away from Waylynn, and she stands.
“Mind handing me that?” She points to a bag sitting farther down the counter. When I pick it up, I realize it’s a fanny pack. Instead of putting it around her waist, she loops the thing over her chest so the strap comes to rest between her tits and the bag is nestled under the right side. When she looks up after a small adjustment, she catches me staring…not that I was trying to hide it.
“Should we just leave the cars on the street so we don’t have to move them again when we get home?” Memphis asks as he comes through the doorway.
“As long as it’s not overnight. I don’t want anyone breaking in to steal my tools,” I reply.
“Nah, just park behind me when we get home, you leave the earliest.”
I keep an eye on Waylynn after Memphis’ words to see how she’s going to react to him basically telling me I can spend the night again. If she minds, she doesn’t show it, and to be honest, I don’t think she could hide it if she did mind. Her little confession to Memphis about the door proved that.
PARTY OF FOUR
Waylynn
The smoke curlingthrough the restaurant is evident the second we walk through the double door that Bates and Memphis held open. I glance around at the high industrial ceilings and modern black décor, noting it’s pretty busy. I wonder if we should have called ahead.
Oswald saunters up to the counter, much to the delight of the three female staff members clustered behind the hostess area.
“Hey, how long is the wait for four?”
The girl in front of him looks down at a little laminated map after a short stare off as if she might not answer him. “I have a table leaving soon, you can put them in my section,” one of the other girls pipes up.
“It’s Leah’s turn,” the hostess finally says. When she looks up, I notice her blush, so her delayed communication makes a little more sense. Oswald is striking. He’s tall, at least an inch taller than his older brother, and even in a non-fitted shirt, you can tell he’s built. His muscles are defined without effort, and then you get to his face. He’s pretty, there’s no other way to put it. His lashes are long and enviable, while his lips are full and continually quirked in a slight smile, like he’s always in on the joke. The baby blue eyes seal the deal. The first time I saw him, I thought they sparkled, and it’s still a fitting description.
