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I shuffled over to the front door and flicked off the porch light before turning the dead bolt. Then, I turned off the kitchen light and the lamps in the living room before heading to my bedroom to try and get some sleep. I told myself I wasn’t disappointed. After all, he’d be leaving in a few short days anyway, and I knew it. Better that I didn’t get too attached.
But I wasn’t sure I believed it.
I was just drifting off to sleep when a loud banging woke me up with a start. I knocked my head on the bedside table rolling out of bed, still half dozing.
“Wait, wait,” I yelled, simply to stop the banging. “I’m coming.” I turned on the porch light and unbolted the door.
Charlie stood on the other side with winter-bright eyes and puffs of white vapor coming out of his mouth like he was out of breath. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. His expression made it clear he was unsure of his reception.
I rubbed the sore spot on my head while I tried to get my thoughts in order. “No, that’s… it’s…”
“Fuck, are you hurt? Again?” He knocked my hand out of the way and began palpating my skull again. Before we could start another comedy of errors, I stopped him.
“I was almost asleep when you knocked, and I bumped my head on the bedside table.”
His forehead crinkled. “Babe… I am concerned about your balance. I think you should see someone about repeated blows to the head.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d called me babe, but it set off a sparkler of excitement in my gut that made me lunge for him. “Get in here,” I said before kissing the breath from him and pulling him backward into the house.
Chapter Eleven
CHARLTON
I felt terrible for showing up so late, but the minute Hunter grabbed me and pulled me into the house, I realized just how badly I needed this. Had he turned me away, I might have had to try my hand at breaking and entering.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said between kisses and nips. “Family stuff, you know?”
He grunted his understanding but didn’t take his mouth off me to vocalize it. I let myself relax into the impromptu make-out session for several minutes before I realized I hadn’t even wished him a happy Thanksgiving.
I pulled back and cupped his face. “Hey. How was your day?”
Hunter wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. “Good. Really good. Lots to be thankful for. But I’m really glad it’s over so I can do this.” He arched his back, and our cocks shifted against each other through our clothes.
“Same,” I groaned. “Hard same. Take me to—”
A shrill quack, quack cut off the rest of my demand, and Hunter and I froze in place.
“What the hell?” he demanded against my lips.
I winced. “That’s my mom’s text notification.” I pulled away from his embrace to dig my phone out of my pocket. “Sorry! Sorry. But I don’t think she’d text me at this hour unless it was an emergency—” I swiped the screen.
Mom: Strangest thing, Charlton! I went to the bunk room a little while ago to say goodnight to my precious son and ask what he was chatting about with Cousin Buck earlier, only to find he’d (gasp!) LEFT without a single word to anyone!
Mom: But then I realized you’re probably out doing NICE deeds for our neighbors—say, for example, that adorable Hunter Jackson?—in honor of the holiday. Right, sweetheart?
Mom: I’m so proud! I can’t wait to brag on you to Lurleen and Cindy Ann and Amos and Emmaline and… well, everyone! lol.
Mom: Just remember you haven’t won the bet yet, kiddo. Love you!
I squeezed my eyes shut and muttered a succinct “Fuck.”
“What?” Hunter asked, instantly concerned. “Is she okay? Is it Amos? Do you need to get home?”
“No! Hell no. I may never go back to Amos’s again.” I turned the screen so Hunter could read the messages.
“I don’t get it,” he said after a moment. “What bet? What nice deeds?”
With a sigh, I explained about the niceness bet I’d been trying to win… and how my mom seemed to be playing dirty.
I’d expected Hunter to roll his eyes or even to be annoyed that so many Thicketeers were going to know our business. Laughing so hard his head went back and his eyes watered was not even in my top five anticipated reactions… but apparently, it should have been.
“Wait. Wait, wait, wait,” he gasped out. “So you’re telling me that the reason you took part in the Biddin’, the reason you didn’t throw the turkey costume in my face yesterday… was so you could win a bet with your mom?”
“Kinda. At first. Yeah.” I folded my arms over my chest as he doubled over again. “It’s not that funny. It’s the Waldorf spa, Hunter. It costs a billion dollars. And my mother is a wonderful woman in many ways, but if you think she’s the kind of mom who wouldn’t make me pay up—and mention her win at every opportunity for the rest of my life—you’re wrong.”
