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“Daddy!”
“DAMMIT, TOMMY!”
14
-Joshua-
I double check the measurements against the list Chazarae had given me as I stand in the middle of the driveway planning out my day. Soft hands cover my eyes and Becca’s breasts press against my back. “Morning,” she whispers and I can’t help but smile.
I turn slowly, removing her hand at the same time. The morning sun beats down on her, making her skin glow and her eyes the brightest shade of green. “Morning.” I kiss her quickly, not wanting my mind or my body to remember how her lips made me feel last night. You know… until Tommy ruined it all. “How’d you sleep?”
She shrugs and glances at Tommy scooting up and down the driveway. “I missed you.”
I cup her neck and run my thumb across her throat, waiting for her to tilt her head back before leaning down and kissing it. “Me too.”
“Next Friday, right?” she says, her hands fisting my shirt.
“The next week is going to be so slow.”
“It’ll be worth it.”
A delivery truck pulls into the driveway and I open the gate for it. Chazarae had asked me to build some garden beds in the back yard for her and Tommy so that’s how I’m spending my weekend—which I guess will help keep my mind and my hands off Becca.
I wait for the truck to reverse into the driveway and introduce myself to the driver when he hops out. “Brad,” he says, shaking my hand, but his eyes are on Becca and Tommy sitting on the porch steps blowing bubbles. His gaze moves from her face to her legs and back again.
I’ve never wanted to punch someone. Hunter and I have come close a couple times but that’s just boys being boys. But this guy—I want to punch him. And if he keeps looking at Becca the way he is, I will.
Because I’m frustrated.
Emotionally.
Sexually.
All of it.
We unload the truck. Well, I do. He’s too busy looking at her. “You want to do your job or should I just keep doing it for you?” I snap, taking another bag of soil from his truck.
He’s silent as he finally looks away, his eyes narrowed, before he grabs the end of a piece of timber.
It doesn’t last long though. A couple minutes later I catch him doing it again. And I’ve had enough. I drop the supplies and for a moment question whether or not I can actually take him. He’s a few years older, but I’m bigger. Plus, I have a reason to fight. He doesn’t. I take the steps to get to him and his eyes widen when my fists ball his collar and I shove him against his truck.
“What’s your problem?” he says, like I’m the one with the fucking problem.
I glance at Becca quickly—she’s rushing Tommy in the house and calling out to her grandmother. My fists ball tighter. “You’re my fucking problem.”
“Josh,” Becca calls out, her voice strained. She steps up beside me now, her hands on my chest pushing me away. “Stop, babe.”
I release my hands but not my anger. “Quit fucking looking at her.”
“It’s a free world,” he says, smirking as he looks her up and down.
Becca stands in front of me when I take a step forward. “Please,” she says, her eyes pleading and filling with tears. “Just don’t.” She rises to her toes, her hands on my shoulders, and kisses me until my anger fades.
“Okay, I get it,” Brad says, but still—we don’t pull apart.
He sighs and starts to actually do his job, the entire time, my lips don’t leave hers and I know it’s just going to add to my frustration but her kisses, her touch—they’re like my drug… and I can’t quit.
Once the truck’s unloaded and the asshole’s left, Chazarae and Becca take Tommy with them to run errands and go shopping while I work alone in the yard. Alone with me, myself, and my thoughts—and sometimes, that can be a deadly combination.
I knew I’d lost it—which is something I rarely do. And it wasn’t just because that dick was looking at her the way he was. It’s because deep down, I knew he could’ve had her. And he would’ve been better for her than I was. Everyone would be better for her. At least they could actually do things without being weighed down by a kid. They could date, properly. They could get intimate without worrying about being interrupted. They could have the freedom to enjoy each other, fall in love even… without all the extra baggage. And these are the thoughts that make me question everything to do with Becca. That and the fact I still don’t know anything about her. Not really. But like I said, I’m addicted to her. To every single thing about her. And even though I know it’s bad, it feels so damn good.
These thoughts still plague my mind hours later when they all return. “Hey,” Becca says, beaming up at me. Her smile falters when I don’t return it. She walks toward me, her head tilted as if assessing me. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie, leaning against my truck and wiping the sweat off my face with the bottom of my shirt. “What did you guys get up to?”
Her smile returns. “Grams got me a new printer! I’ve only got this little portable one and she bought me this one that does all these things and I’m going to play with it all weekend!”
The excitement in her voice is reason enough for my mood to switch. With a chuckle, I link my fingers with hers and just stare at how fricken’ perfect she is.
“What?” she asks, her smile wide.
