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“I forgot to tell you North is coming for Christmas dinner,” I tell her abruptly later as I hand her the Brussels sprouts or at least attempt to. She hates the things which may be why she’s suddenly holding her hands behind her back.
“Oh? Okay. Does he know…?” Her lips turn down slightly at the corners.
I shake my head. “No, just that we’re family. I did tell him you were off limits,” I confess.
Betsy brightens at that until I remind her, “He’s my age, baby.”
She rolls her eyes and leans in to whisper in my ear. “You see, the guy over there stacking eggplants like they’re bricks?”
I spot the glowering kid in a store apron she’s referring to and nod slightly.
“He’smy age and if he handles produce like that, he has no clue about women.” She turns away and delicately inspects the persimmons, her finger tracing the curves of the fruit. I frown, knowing she’s teasing me, but I take her point. No way in hell would I let an idiot like him take her out. Which sounds weird even in my own head. I’m not her father. Just her… protector? Stand-in, older brother?
I’m muttering to myself as we leave the produce aisle for the dairy section. Betsy scurries to keep up with me. “Where’s the fire, Heath?”
I sigh and focus on the task at hand. So we can finish and join the mile long queue for the checkout. I thought being out in public would get everything back to normal. But instead I’m eyeballing my fellow shoppers to see who’s got their eye on Betsy’s rosy cheeks, or worse, the curve of her ass in jeans that look practically painted on. So far, the only offender is… me.
Betsy
I’m pretty sure Heath isn’t completely immune to me. He’s growly because he’s clearly not happy about it. And I don’t want to demean whatever hangups he’s got about his body. But honestly, I don’t care. I’d take him forever without having sex. Or at least not the standard kind. I have faith that the man can get creative if he wants to. It’s the desire that’s in question, not the follow-through.
But I’m not sure of how to encourage that thought process without derailing everything completely. I don’t think I’m the type that could carry off the bare-under-the-trench-coat variety of seduction. I mean, my name is Betsy. Which I love, by the way. But people tend to remark that either their great-grandmother or worse, their great-grandma’s cow shared the same name. It’s weird how many people know the names of their relatives’ cows.
Besides, I don’t think that kind of thing would work on Heath, anyway. He’s an easy-going guy, but he keeps the heavy stuff locked away deep. And I know he has that side of him because I caught a glimpse when my brother was killed and Heath came for me. I could and did say a polite no thanks to his offer of help. But it was like he didn’t hear it. He was going to make sure I was protected and had everything I needed. The determination shone out of his dark green eyes and before I knew it, we were married and he was helping me fill out college forms. He even did all the paperwork to change my name because my brother’s death was newsworthy and Heath didn’t want any reporters tracking me down. Even then, I kind of hoped that was a sign we could eventually move into a deeper phase of our relationship.
I also recognized that not only was Heath grieving, but that he would hate himself for taking that out between the thighs of an eighteen-year-old. So I held back and finished school as fast as I could. I’m twenty-one now and we’ve both come to terms with the loss of my brother, at least as much as anyone ever can. Dillon would want a guy like Heath for me. Oh, he’d grumble about it, much the way Heath is doing right now. But deep down my older brother knew Heath was a great guy, that’s why he asked him to look after me.
Biting my lip as we unpack the groceries, I consider my next move. I tease Heath a little by pretending I’m going to put the box of crackers in the cupboard over the refrigerator. He frowns and takes them from me, sliding them into a bottom drawer. “I can use the stepstool, you know?” I do love poking at Heath.
“Why bother?” he asks rather absentmindedly, having already moved on to rearranging the contents of the fridge to hold the turkey. Even with three people, we don’t need a thirty-pound turkey. It must be a guy thing. Always going for size.
“Well, if you feel like that, let’s take your books down so I don’t have to make such an effort to borrow one,” I suggest with a smirk.
Heath gapes at me. God, did he really not know? “Betsy, you really shouldn’t be reading…”
I cut him off. “I’m twenty-one! But I’ve yet to see anything that scary up there.”
“They’ll give you the wrong idea…”
I press my fingers to his lips, not able to contain my eye roll. “Like what, Heath? Do you think I’ll suddenly believe that you’re bound and determined to bend me over the counter right here so you can breed me? Fill me up so full of cum that I can’t help but get pregnant from the very first time?” I’m borrowing heavily from the book I read last time I was here. Heath swallows reflexively, his fists clenching around the bag of lemons.
Then abruptly he drops them on the counter and yanks me up tight against him. His big hands hold my upper arms firmly while he glares at me. “Maybe I need to pick out your next read then, if you’re so grown up. There’s one up there about a bratty girl that gets spanked every time she disobeys. I’m starting to see the merits of that story now.”
His lips are on mine before I can sass him back with a, “Yes, please!” Instead, I respond with a little squeak of excitement. I don’t care that he’s a tiny bit angry, he’s feeling something and kissing me. It’s progress. Plus, hearing dirty words from his mouth in his rich, light drawl has me going boneless with delight.
And then again, because while I can’t reach my arms up to bring him closer, I feel his growing erection against my stomach. I thought he said…
He pulls away abruptly, swiping his hand over his face. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Betsy.”
“I’m not,” I inform him cheekily. “Can I have another?”
“No.” He drops a patronizing kiss on my forehead, anyway.
“Then may I have that book?” I ask him archly. Heath stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. “You know, the one with the spanking? Maybe it will give meideas.” I waggle my eyebrows at him suggestively.
Heath’s eyes widen, then finally he sighs. He rifles through the upper cabinet for a minute and then hands me a slim volume with a simple cover. “Go. Before I do something, we’ll both regret.” He pushes me out of the kitchen. I pretend to hang my head in shame, but really, I’m thrilled.
Of course, now I’ll have to discover his new hiding place because I’m positive he’s about to move his book stash somewhere he thinks I won’t find it. Probably in his room. I’ve never snooped in there, but surely, if he’s watching me do it, it’s not an invasion of privacy? I’ll put that on the agenda for tomorrow…
