Page 124 of Last Man Standing

He barks out a laugh and crashes a violent kiss against my lips. He kisses me until my lungs empty and my head swims. Until my stomach hollows and my panties slick. Then he breaks it with dual gasps and backs away. He wraps his hand around mine and pulls me to my feet, then he looks me up and down and smirks that filthy way he does. “I’ve only known you in the winter, Princess. But I gotta say, you look good in these cute little dresses.”

“It’s the nicest thing I thought to pack.” Nerves surge in my belly again, bringing me forward until my forehead touches his chest. “It’s not weird, is it? Do I look like I’m trying too hard?”

He hunches his back and fists the two-inches-above-knee-length hem, all so he can run the tip of his thumb over my exposed thigh. “It’s not too much. It’s not too little. It’s not trying too hard.” He releases the fabric and takes my jaw in his hand instead. “It’s exactly right, I promise. And I won’t abandon you.” He shakes his head solemnly. “Even if someone asks me to grab something from the fridge, I’m not moving my ass. Even if Uncle Bas passes out on the table…” His eyes twinkle with humor. “I’m not moving.”

“Don’t say that!” I shove away from his chest and start across the room. I leave my phone behind, since I have no pockets, and it’s not like taking a purse to dinner is normal in these situations. I leave my cross-body bag where it is, and my notebooks in the window. I walk to the door and take the handle in my palm, but before I open it, I peek back at the man shamelessly watching me walk. “I’m glad Bas is feeling well enough to eat with us. But if he deteriorates, you have my blessing to catch him before he hits the floor.”

“Eh.” He licks his lips and growls his appreciation, his eyes zeroed on my exposed legs. “He’s a big boy, and there’ll be others at the table who can help.” Finally, he follows me across the room and drapes himself across my back before I get the door open. “Can I touch you under the table, Princess?”

“Absolutely not.” I slap his hands off my thighs, force his broad body back, and open the door before we add obnoxiously late to the reasons Arabella dislikes me. “If I can’t trust you to keep your hands to yourself, I might be forced to sit with Mav.”

Following me into the hall, he throws his arm over my shoulders. “Sitting next to Mav will not save you from wandering hands. But it’ll leave him with two broken wrists and a bleeding brain, since it’ll be my job to teach him a lesson about touching what’s mine.”

“Like I’m a possession?” I grumble. “A toy to be owned?”

“Mmmm. My toy. No one else’s.”

I spin in front of him just five feet from the kitchen entryway and force us to stop, bracing myself in case he steamrolls straight through me.

Surprised, he takes my arms in his hands and looks left. Then right. Searching for whatever made me stop. “What?”

“Remember that talk we just had about you saying dickish things? And how I promised not to assume the worst?”

Relaxing again, he smothers a noisy snort. “Mmhm.”

“Well, that was one of those things. You’re being dickish, and I’m not bailing. I’m even assuming you mean to express how much you enjoy my company, rather than the worst, ownership, which would certainly be dickish of you.” I patronizingly pat his chest and move onto my toes. Even then, I need him to fold lower and accept my kiss. “Now I need you to focus. If your mom has laid steak knives out with dinner, could you take hers away? I don’t have the emotional bandwidth right now to worry about being stabbed while I’m eating.”

Chuckling, he smacks another kiss onto my lips and yanks me closer until our chests clash. Then he spins me to the front and forces me to walk. “I promise. You carrying?”

“No!” But then I turn serious again and search his eyes. “Are you?”

“No.” He leads me to the kitchen door and pins me closer as five others stare back at us.

It’s possible they heard the thing about steak knives.

Goofy and playful, Mav pats the chair beside his and lifts his chin that way flirts do. “You wanna sit with me, Princess? I saved you a spot.”

“You don’t call her Princess.” Sebastion leads me into the room and claps his brother on the back of the head. “Move.”

There are only two available seats left: one beside Mav, and one opposite, beside Koda. Which means Sebastion and I would be separated.

“You’re so dickish sometimes.” Giggling, Mav pushes his chair back and picks up a three-quarters full beer. While Paul, Arabella, and Bas watch in loaded silence, Mav merely muscles his way between me and Sebastion and presses his hand to the small of my back. “You can have my seat, Scarlett.” He gently steers me that way. “I kept it warm for you. Besides, sitting across from you makes for a better view.”

“Swear to God,” Sebastion growls, walking around the table and pressing a kiss to the top of Bas’ head. They hold for a beat, Bas’ hand coming up to squeeze Sebastion’s wrist. Then he moves on and taps the side of his fist to his dad’s shoulder. While Maverick helps me into my chair and pushes me in, since I suppose he thinks I can’t do it myself, Sebastion stops beside his mom.

She’s nervous and shaky. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are bright. She folds her neck and looks up at him, heartache written into her every feature. But then he leans in and presses a sweet, lingering kiss on her cheek. “Sorry we’re late.” Pulling back, he winks and allows her to squeeze his hand. “Traffic was awful.”

She chokes out a tear-filled snicker and nods. “I’m just really happy you’re here.” Releasing him, she brings her eyes around to me. “Thank you for coming, Scarlett.”

“Let’s dig in.” Sebastion yanks his chair out and drops into it. He opens his legs wide, so we touch from ankle to hip, then leaning across the table, he steals Mav’s beer and flashes a teasing grin toward his uncle. “You look like a million bucks, dude. They gave you the good cocaine this time?”

39

SEBASTION

THIS IS NOT AN INTERROGATION

“Will you tell us about your parents, Scarlett?” My dad sits back, his belly full and a kind smile settled on his lips. He sips at a beer, just one, the same as Mav and me.