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I’d done flings. So had Jackson. Not happening. At least, that was the last fling we were going to have and it was going to last the rest of our lives. Oh, we were going to pin her down, lick her pussy until she came. Every night. We’d fuck, fill her with our cum, prove to her she was ours. Every night. Fuck her together, one of us in her ass, the other in her pussy. We’d bend her over the kitchen table and give her a spanking, leaving her with our pink handprints on her ass to remind her how much we wanted her. Every fucking night. Hell, morning, noon and night. My balls ached at the thought. My sense of urgency at seeing her again, of telling her our intentions, only increased with every minute away from her.
Tapping my freezing fingers against the steering wheel, I mentally urged Jackson to hurry the hell up. We’d already wasted enough time waiting for the next flight to Bozeman and then driving back to Bridgewater. It had been too late last night to show up on Avery’s doorstep, even if we’d known where her parents lived.
This morning we stopped by our clinic to handle a tooth extraction on a beagle and an emergency surgery for a cat, but as soon as we’d finished up we headed out with one goal in mind. To convince Avery to give us a chance. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was our destiny. There were no two ways about it.
Finally, Jackson appeared in the doorway of his parents’ house.
“About fucking time,” I muttered.
Jackson gave me a quick wave of acknowledgement before turning to say something to whoever was behind him, then pulled the door shut. He headed down the shoveled front path, his lower legs hidden by the deep snow on either side.
When he slid into the passenger seat, a burst of cold air followed. He gave me a grin and held up a slip of paper. “Sorry. My mother wrangled me into bringing the keg in from the fridge in the shop. And the only way I was going to get this—” he held up a slip of paper, “—was for me to explain our interest in Avery.”
Jackson’s job had been to sweet talk his momma into giving us Avery’s parents’ address. Beverly Wray was friends with just about everyone in town. If there was anyone who knew where the Lanes lived, it would be her. And it looked like we’d been right. The price to pay was some heavy lifting and some heavier grilling. And patience.
I took the paper from his gloved hand, read the address and was familiar with the street.
“Took you long enough,” I grumbled. I stepped on the gas and headed west, just outside town limits. The distance wasn’t far but with the icy roads, it seemed to take forever.
“Should we come up with a game plan?” Jackson asked.
It was clear he was nervous. Hell, I was nervous too, but I’d developed a better game face over the years. He might have been the star athlete between the two of us, but I’d been the one who was always in the spotlight after my parents died eight years earlier. For far too long, I’d been subjected to pitiful stares and concerned whispers.
Tragedy didn’t strike often in Bridgewater, so when my young, kind parents lost their lives to a drunk driver, it was big news. I’d lost my momma and both fathers on one snowy winter day just like this one. But at least I’d had a happy childhood first, filled with more love than most people could imagine.
With role models like that, I supposed it was no wonder that I’d always wanted the same type of family of my own one day. Jackson’s family was the same way—minus the tragedy, of course. As lifelong best friends, we’d always known we’d take a wife together. I didn’t even think we’d ever talked about it, it was just understood.
“I figured your mom was going to make us bring her to the party.”
He looked to me, grinned. “She did.”
But that didn’t mean we were going to. If Avery wasn’t up for it, or worse, if we couldn’t get her to agree, then we’d do something else. Anything she wanted. While we’d spent the night with her, we didn’t know much about her or her family and we planned on changing that.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I hated gossiping, even if it was all in the interest of winning our girl. “Did you ask your mom about her parents?”
Jackson nodded, fiddling with the heat since it was finally warm in the truck. “I did, and she confirmed the rumors. Their marriage has been on the rocks since the very beginning, apparently. There’s been talk of cheating, separations, family counseling, the works. Why they married in the first place is beyond me.”
I focused on keeping us on the road as I let that digest. Was Avery skittish about any kind of relationship because she had no example of what it could really be like, or was it us she avoided? Did we mean so little to her?
I frowned at the stark, white landscape. The snowy vista was beautiful, even as it covered the craggy mountains in the distance.
We’d known it would be an uphill battle to convince her to give us a chance, but this news didn’t help my optimism any. “Are you sure it’s not just gossip?”
“My mom’s best friends with her aunt, Louise—you remember her, don’t you? She used to work as a nurse at the doc’s office.”
I nodded. I remembered her. When I was a
kid, she handed out lollipops after I got my shots.
“What did she have to say?”
Jackson turned to give me a wry smile. “That they’re crazy.”
I raised one brow. “Crazy? That was her word, huh? Was that her professional medical opinion?”
Jackson laughed and shrugged in that easy way of his that had always put women at ease. “I’m just the messenger. Momma said that Louise told her that family is toxic. The parents aren’t happy and they take it out on the kids. I don’t think they ever hit Avery or her younger sister. Nothing like that, but it sounds like they grew up in the middle of a battlefield.” Jackson stared out the window for a bit, his expression unusually grim. “Hard to believe Avery turned out so sane and…and…”
“Passionate?” I suggested.
