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The softly spoken words snapped him out of the fog of rage that had clouded his judgment the second he saw his father on Mickie’s lawn.
He felt her gaze boring into the back of his head, pleading with him to come to her instead of spilling his father’s blood throughout her snowy yard. Across the street, a lighted window revealed a parted curtain and the curious eyes of their prying neighbors.
“This bastard’s not worth a night in jail,” Jagger whispered. “I got him. You go to your woman. Make sure she’s good.”
“He’s my resp—”
“No, he’s not.” Ronnie’s voice appeared behind him. “Let us do this for you, Keith. For you and Mickie.”
Their father laughed loud and drunkenly. “Isn’t this cute. My kids coming together to disrespect their father.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Ronnie and Jagger said at the same time.
Keith’s lips twitched.
Jagger squeezed his shoulder. “Come on, brother.”
“Keith,” Mickie called from the porch.
His spine lost its starch. For so long he’d carried the weight of managing their burden of a father on his own. The instinct to keep his siblings from his poison ran deep. But it was time to let that go.
“All right,” he said as he turned his back on their father’s continued laughter. “Any way I can talk you out of going with him?” he asked Ronnie.
She set her jaw and shook her head. “No. He’s my father, too. My burden to share.”
With a resigned nod, he met Jagger’s gaze. “Keep her safe.”
“Goes without saying.” Jagger patted his shoulder then Ronnie gave him a quick hug. “Be good to her and let her be good to you,” she whispered before releasing him.
They may have come from trash, but his siblings had grown into damn good people.
After kissing Ronnie’s cheek, he drowned out all happenings behind him and focused his full attention on Michaela. She stood without a jacket, waiting for him on the porch with a concerned furrow between her eyes. As he approached, she held out her hand. The moment he took it, she clutched her cold fingers tight around his and guided him into the house.
“I’ve gotta go get the tow truck to haul his car outta there,” Keith said when they reached her couch.
Mickie placed an icy finger over his lips. “Shh, that can wait until later. Or you can text JP to do it. In fact, I bet Jagger gets him to take care of it. It’s okay to rely on your siblings. They want to be there for you as much as you are for them, you know.”
With a grunt, he grabbed her hand and nipped the end of her finger. Her yelp turned into a groan as he soothed the sting with his tongue.
“Lie down with me,” he urged, tugging her to the couch. He stretched out on his back and pulled her down on top of him. Her softness immediately conformed to all the hard planes of his body. Tension left him in an instant. This was where he belonged.
Christ, how he hoped she felt the same. He was exactly where he’d promised himself he wouldn’t end up. Fucking in love with a woman who might not stick around. Hoping for a future that may never happen.
What a fucking fool he’d become.
“You just tensed.” Mickie lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest.
“What did he want?” he played with the ends of her chocolaty hair.
She gave him a lopsided grin. “Money. You showed right after he did, so he didn’t have time to say much beyond feeling like he was owed some money.”
“Good. I don’t want him bringing his filth anywhere near you.”
“I’m tougher than you think.” She flexed a small but toned bicep, probably trying to get a laugh out of him, but he didn’t have one for her.
“No.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I know exactly how tough you are because I’m in awe of it.”
“Keith…you…I mean I…thank you,” she whispered. “I’m so glad I found you.”
“You mean you’re so glad I found you on the side of the road.”
That had her giggling and lightened the heavy emotions of seconds before. He wasn’t ready for it, cowardly as it made him.
They stayed there on the couch in silence, just being with each other. Eventually, the air thickened, and the feeling changed from comforting to arousing. Beneath her hips, his cock filled and hardened. She squirmed against him before lifting her lust-filled gaze to his.
Christ, she was so fucking beautiful in her natural state. No makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair. Just one hundred percent Michaela Hudson.
Perfection.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she scooted up his body, aligning her mouth with his. Either he’d say the word out loud, or his eyes conveyed his thoughts. Either way, he accepted her kiss eagerly.
Never shy, she slid her tongue against his, causing his dick to jerk against her leg. She hummed her approval and ground against him. The need to fuck her spiked through his system. He grabbed the back of her head, no longer content with leisurely kisses, and plundered her mouth.
