“Just need to ask him a question,” Brock says, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that fills me with trepidation. He and Cody follow me up the sidewalk, close behind me as if they’re afraid I’ll slip inside and lock the door on them. They might be right.
My body hasn’t stopped humming from those amazing orgasms, and I mentally cross my fingers that my face is blank enough to protect me. Since Dad’s expecting me, I open the front door without knocking, the twins still right behind me.
The entryway opens into the living room, with a hallway branching off to the left that goes to the bedrooms, and a doorway on the right that leads to the kitchen. Since the living room is empty, I turn into the kitchen — and stop so fast the brothers bump into me.
My dad’s there, and so is a woman I’ve never seen before. Their arms are around each other; his hands are on her ass. And they’re kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
I haven’t been this shocked since the day I was ten and came home to find my father crying in the living room. Even catching Jason this morning was less of a stunner. My voice is stuck in my throat. I don’t know what I’d say anyway.
Brock comes to my rescue by clearing his throat loudly, breaking up the makeout session. My dad’s head whips around. “Megan!” he says. He looks confused — understandable, with the Beast Brothers at my back — but also a bit guilty.
“Hi, Dad.” I find I can speak now that the silence has been broken. “I did tell you I was almost here.” His guilty look increases, and a small part of me is glad because it helps me conceal my own feelings of self-reproach.
He comes over to give me a hug, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. When I called this morning to say I was on my way, he didn’t ask any questions; something in my voice must have warned him it wasn’t the time. All he said was, “I’ll be here.”
His unwavering support steadies me, even as the contrast to Jason’s betrayal is like a shard of glass in my heart. I squeeze him tighter, overflowing with love and gratitude, but his next words shatter the mood.
“Vivian stopped by after we spoke,” he says. “Vivian, I’d like you to meet my daughter Megan.”
The woman comes forward, hands outstretched. “It’s wonderful to meet you, dear. Your father’s told me so much about you.”
My first thought is that she looks nothing like my mother. I still have memories of my mom, and lots of old photographs. Not to mention mirrors.
I have my mother’s auburn curls and curvy build, whereas Vivian is blonde and slender. I’m relieved that there’s no resemblance; I’m not sure what I would do if my dad started dating a lookalike.
Her expression, though, puts my back up. Maybe it’s my imagination working overtime, but the little smile playing around her lips reminds me of Jason’s mistress. He threw her out this morning when I caught them together, but she smirked at me while she strutted out of the house, as if she’d won some kind of victory.
I want to smack Vivian’s smile right off her face — which is crazy and wrong. My dad isn’t cheating; he’s entitled to be happy.
I should be happy that he’s met someone after so many years alone. But I’m not. Shoving aside thoughts of what that says about me, I force a smile and say, “It’s nice to meet you.”
And that’s when everything goes from awkward to totally insane.
Because Vivian looks at the twins and says, “Hello, boys. What are you doing here?”
And Cody and Brock say, “Hey, Mom.”
You Never Know When You’re Going to Go Horizontal
Megan
It’s my turn to whip my head around and stare. “This is your mother?” My voice comes out almost accusatory, like it’s their fault she’s here.
“Yeah,” Brock says. “Mom works for the team. She helps with marketing.”
I want to ask if the brothers knew their mother and my father were an item — which they clearly are, judging from the clinch we found them in. But I don’t want to ask in front of our parents, and I definitely don’t want to be alone with the Beast Brothers again.
What I can do, and I do, is shoot my dad a “What the hell?” look. At which point he finally decides it’s time to focus on the unexpected guests in his kitchen. “I didn’t hear you answer your mother’s question,” he says to the brothers, in a tone that makes it crystal clear he expects an explanation — now.
Before I can say anything, Cody speaks up. “There was an accident,” he says in an easygoing, aw-shucks way. “We gave Megan a ride.”
He puts the barest emphasis on the word ride. Not enough to be obvious; just enough that I notice. Fortunately, my dad pays attention to the important part of Cody’s words. His attention switches back to me and his brow creases with concern. “Are you all right, honey? What happened?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. I don’t want him any more worried about me than he already is. “My car is probably totaled, though.”
“She was pretty wrecked,” Brock says. It’s all I can do not to elbow him, hard. With a heroic effort, I manage to keep my face impassive.
My dad shoots him a look. “And you boys just happened along?” he says. He knows something’s up.
Brock’s expression is perfectly innocent. “Yeah, we were right there when it happened,” he says. I wonder if he’s playing this game for the fun of it, or if he’s trying to dodge his coach’s wrath.
My dad lets it go, for now at least, and turns to me. “Did you have your car towed?”
I tell him I’ve called my insurance, since that’ll be his next question, and that the car is at the garage we always use. “If I can borrow your car tomorrow, I’ll go get the rest of my things.”
“Of course,” Dad says. Satisfied for the moment, he says to the guys, “Thank you for bringing her home.” My Beast-crazed mind flashes back to the way they brought me in the taxi, and I struggle to keep my thoughts from showing on my face.
Then he hesitates. He and Vivian exchange a look. And my sexy thoughts vanish as a ball of ice forms in my stomach.
Because it’s not the kind of look that casual fuck buddies give each other. It’s a Couple Look. It tells me that he and Vivian have enough of a history to have conversations without saying a word.
Shit.
It only lasts a moment. Bu
t that’s enough for them to communicate whatever they need to, because my dad turns back to us and asks the twins, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
When I was growing up, Dad — and Mom, when she was alive — had team members over all the time. So this is nothing unusual. But I also know that normally he’d rather have me to himself my first night home, since we haven’t seen each other in months.
Vivian, however, shows no signs of leaving. And since she and my dad just had a Silent Couple Conversation, he’s clearly decided that he and I having quality father-daughter alone time is not a priority.
The ball of ice in my stomach gets bigger. The last thing I want is to spend an evening with Vivian and my dad and no one else. I just don’t think I can handle that today.
So I turn to the twins and say, “You can, can’t you?” I’m afraid they’ll say no and leave me to cope by myself, so I add some extra incentive. “You guys must be hungry after such a ... hard day.”
Brock gives me a look that triggers a spark between my legs. “Oh yeah,” he says. “We’re starving. Aren’t we, Cody?”
“Famished,” Cody agrees, with a grin that’s more than a little sly.
So that’s how we all wind up sitting around the dining table, sharing the takeout Thai food my dad ordered to welcome me home. Fortunately, he knows I like leftovers, so he ordered extra and there’s enough for everyone. Maybe it only amounts to a snack for the brothers, but at least no one goes without.
The twins take chairs on either side of me before Vivian can insist that I sit by her so we can get better acquainted. And then they talk about games, drills, practices, playbooks … anything and everything football-related. It frees me from having to say much and, best of all, provides no opportunity for any heart-to-hearts with their mom.
I’m so glad they’re there. It makes the meal much more relaxing — except, of course, for the constant stream of innuendo they drop into the conversation for my ears only. “Spicy food is the best,” Cody says, giving me a meaningful look.