Teague (The Family Simon 4)

“He puked,” Morgan said. “On Mommy.”

“Gross,” the blonde with Josiah whispered.

An awkward silence fell between then and then Sabrina nodded to Teague. “Once again, thanks for looking out for my kids. I promise you, we’re not always this unorganized.”

Morgan tugged on her hand and whispered loud enough for all of them to hear. “He told me that we’re not annoying.”

“Wonderful,” Sabrina said tightly, before giving him a nod. “I hope you guys have a great night.”

Teague watched until she disappeared among the throngs of people on the boardwalk.

“Wow,” Michelle said. “That right there is the perfect form of birth control. Puke? Ugh. I’d rather run my nails down a chalkboard.”

“Really, Michelle?” Candace said. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? They were adorable.”

Teague shot the blonde a look that had her apologizing and looking like the idiot she was. With a shrug, Josiah grabbed her arm and led her back to their table. Teague watched them go—that restless feeling back in his gut. The band was about to hit the stage again and he felt as jumpy as a cat surrounded by a pack of dogs.

He’d had enough.

Teague turned to the woman beside him. “Are we going to your place or mine?” He wasn’t going to dance any longer.

If Candace was shocked by his boldness, she sure as hell didn’t show it. A heartbeat passed and then she licked her lips, pulling him toward the parking lot. “Did you drive?”

“Sure did.”

“Good,” she said, snuggling into his side. “My sister is in town crashing at my house, so your place?”

Teague didn’t bother to answer. He had Candace in his truck and was on his way to the cottage in less than ten minutes. By the time they reached his place, it was dark but before he headed inside, Teague glanced over to Sabrina’s home. There was a light in the kitchen window and another from the family room. Other than that, the place was quiet.

He linked his hand through the willing female’s fingers and pulled Candace into the cottage and up the stairs to his bedroom. Clothes fell by the wayside and he had her naked, on all fours, and bent over his bed before he’d attempted to doff his jeans. There was no foreplay—he wasn’t in the mood.

And bastard that he was, Teague didn’t bother taking off his pants. He grabbed a condom from the table beside his bed, undid his fly and seconds later was buried deep inside the woman on his bed.

She was wet and ready and already moaning, gasping his name as he drove into her. He wished she would shut the hell up.

Teague went through the motions of sex. It had been a while and sure it felt good, he couldn’t deny that, but it was an empty kind of good. It was like tearing the foil from the most decadent piece of chocolate, only to find that it wasn’t what you wanted after all. It didn’t satisfy his need.

But how could it? He had no idea what it was that he needed.

As Teague rode the woman to orgasm, he caught sight of himself in the mirror above the dresser. There was no pleasure in his face. No release.

There was nothing.

He came and rolled over onto the bed, finally kicking off his jeans and boots. Candace snuggled up against him. “Okay, I’m all for quick and dirty but next time, we take it slower.”

Next time? Shit. He wanted her to leave. Right now.

Teague closed his eyes and stifled a groan. Most men would be all over his situation. Hell, he’d have been all over this situation not that long ago and gone for round two as soon as his body was able.

What the hell was wrong with him?

But he knew. The ghosts that lingered along the edges of his mind would never leave him alone. They stared back at him when he looked in a mirror, slept beside him at night and kept him company along with Mr. Jack Daniels.

They understood what had happened over there. They never let him forget. And someone like Candace would never be able to handle his shit.

He was pretty sure that no one could.

Chapter Six