But I was docile in the morning when I had back-to-back orgasms I didn’t have to give myself. And, incidentally, I’d never had back-to-back orgasms at all and having had them, my guess would be they’d make anyone docile.
“Let’s not talk about pools,” I suggested and got another grin.
Then I got another kiss.
After that, I got pulled out of bed, across a room and into a shower.
* * *
Two hours later…
I was sitting in my family room surrounded by women with the addition of rollicking children.
This was because, up in my attic, nine men and one woman were laboring. Those men not Jacob were named Chace (I knew him at least), Max, Tate, Ty, Reece, Deke, Bubba and Wood. The woman there was named Twyla.
They were all brawny (Ty especially, that guy was huge; and, not in a mean way, but it must be said, Twyla was brawny too). They were all handsome (not as handsome as Jacob but they were definitely on the mouth-watering end of the good-looking spectrum, and even a masculine woman, Twyla, was not hard to look at either, if you didn’t count her lady mullet). And there were a lot of them, thus it was likely my insulation under the roof of a sprawling mansion would take about an hour to install.
The thing was, they brought their women with them.
I did not know this was going to happen. And when trucks and SUVs started rolling into my vast circular drive (something I was lucky to have seeing as it fit all those trucks and SUVs), I noticed that Jacob, standing next to me with his arm flung around my shoulders, scowling, didn’t know these men were bringing their women either.
And he didn’t like it.
At first, I thought that was weird.
Then, I thought it was wonderful.
I thought that when Faye and Lauren jumped down from their respective husband’s SUVs (those being Chace Keaton and Tate Jackson), Jacob’s lips found my ear and he said, “Say the word, I’ll have a word and move the women out. I know you aren’t big on socializin’ and I got a bad feelin’ about this ’cause got more men who have women comin’. You don’t want company, I’ll deal with it.”
I loved it that he knew that about me and I loved it that he was willing to move to protect me.
But it wasn’t that I wasn’t big on socializing. It was that I wasn’t very good at mingling. Small talk did nothing for me. Connecting in a vague way that was meaningless left me cold.
This was why, back when Jacob was with Elsbeth, he and I almost always ended up during a party or after dinner (or during dinner, even with people around us) holed up away from everyone else, or focused on each other, deep in a conversation or in the throes of a heated debate.
On that memory, it hit me in a way it didn’t hit me when he brought it up that Jacob was kind of right. He was with Elsbeth but I’d never seen him deep in conversation with her and definitely not in the throes of a debate. Their relationship was close, affectionate and loving (a painful memory that wasn’t less painful now, alas), but there were parts of it that weren’t deep.
Those parts, Jacob had, as far as I could tell, only with me.
And I had the close, affectionate and loving bits too. Just not in some of the ways Elsbeth had them (until now).
This thought made me dread surprise-hostessing a bunch of women I didn’t know (though, I did want to meet Faye since Chace was a really good guy I always liked) a whole lot less.
I turned my head, caught his eyes and whispered, “Thank you, honey, but I’ll be okay.”
“Sure?”
God.
So nice!
“Yeah,” I assured him.
His arm around my shoulders gave me a squeeze.
More trucks came up my drive.
So now men (and one woman) were up in my attic and I was sitting in my thankfully big family room with a bunch of women I did not know, though I also kind of did. Or, at least, some of them.
First there was Lexie Walker, the fabulous brunette married to Ty Walker. She worked at the spa I went to in Carnal to have my hair done. She did facials or something in the back room (I got my facials with my friend Erika in Denver). I hadn’t met her but I had seen her around the spa and said hi. I also kind of knew her since she and Ty had made national news when it was exposed he was framed for a murder he didn’t commit by the racist jerkface ex-now-dead chief of police in Carnal (Ty was half black).
The others included Lauren Jackson, a blonde married to Tate Jackson. Both Tate and Lauren were famous too, as they also made national news when she was abducted by a serial killer and her husband saved her.
We’ll just say, the county having a gang of thieves hitting houses and using high school students to do it was unfortunately one in a long line of scary shit that had been happening. Thus, I figured, the reason they’d called in Jacob. I didn’t know police did that, but, seeing as everyone had been arrested and Jacob wasn’t on the job for very long, it was obviously a good plan.
Also in my living room, there was the redheaded Faye Keaton, Chace’s very heavily pregnant wife, as in very pregnant.
And Nina Maxwell, Max’s wife. She lived in Gnaw Bone. I knew Max as he owned a construction company and was a customer at the lumberyard. I’d even met his kids since he brought one, the other, or both on occasion when he was making or picking up an order. But that was business. I’d never met Nina. I’d seen her and Max a couple of times around town, but even though I’d smile and wave and he’d tip up his chin, I never approached mostly because they always were so into each other it seemed like it’d be an intrusion. Or they had their kids and thus their hands full.
Then there was Zara Reece, another blonde, Graham Reece’s wife. She, too, was pregnant but not as far gone as Faye. She also just reopened her shop, Karma, a shop I’d visited frequently before she was forced to close it, and chatted with her impersonally when I did. So I kinda knew her too. Her shop, it must be said, I was glad she reopened because it was awesome.
And last, there was Krystal Briggs, a woman with a very large chest and very attractive hair I’d never guess would be attractive seeing as it was a mixture of flaming red with blond streaks à la Ginger Spice in the heyday of the Spice Girls. But she worked it. She was married to a guy everyone called Bubba who was nearly as huge as Ty.
There were also four children, ranging from small child to toddler, wrestling on my rug. Two were Nina’s. Two were Lexie’s.
They told me Wood’s wife, Maggie, couldn’t make it.
For this, I hid being grateful.
They were enough.
It wasn’t because they weren’t friendly. They were.