The sucking though? That I was okay with. He could suck every freaking part of me and I’d just lay there and enjoy it like the sex glutton I couldn’t wait to be.
But I hadn’t been kidding about Jared stealing my only sex-worthy pair of undies. Sure, I had this kickass strapless bra—and thank heavens for that—but the matching panties were long gone. The pair I had on were serviceable, but they were plain white cotton boy shorts, only acceptable with this skirt because it had a ton of pleats and was dark plaid so lines weren’t as visible.
Hey, my life as a seductress was just getting off the ground. I wouldn’t be caught without proper panties again.
Which was how in between passing Erica’s legendary sweet potato casserole and reaching for the peas and onions that I leaned over to Frankie and whispered a question I’d never expected to need to ask.
“Do you have some new panties I can have?”
“What!”
Many pairs of eyes turned our way as my sister grabbed her glass of water. Coincidentally, hers had been the spilled one, but we’d refilled it and dried the chair well before we all sat down. She tossed it back and waved off the stares while I tried not to giggle behind my napkin.
On my other side, Jared pressed his thigh against mine and my laughter quieted quickly. His tree-trunk thighs had never reminded me of his personal weapon before, but after our grab-and-grope session before dinner, I’d probably never think of anything else.
Even now, my thoughts had veered from panties to Frankie being embarrassed to dick-dick-dick. The last part in flashing neon.
Conversations resumed as the baby playfully banged on her high chair, smushing the few peas she’d been given into the plastic. I sent her a smile and she looked up at me, halfheartedly lifting one of the peas.
“Oh my God, no way.”
Alarmed, Jared glanced at me. “What? Another bathroom emergency?”
I nudged him and he looked toward his genius baby—who then flicked the pea away like a bug onto my mother’s prized antique rug.
Without pausing her conversation with my prodigal brother, my mother bent down to pick up the pea and put it on Samantha’s tray. Only for her to push it off again. My mother repeated the move twice more before Samantha tried to lift it toward her face again.
I tapped Jared and leaned over his lap—which hi, dick-dick-dick—to snatch the pea out of the baby’s hand. “No, Sami, not from the floor. Here, you can have one of your daddy’s.”
I took one from his plate and gave it to her, which she promptly flung away. My mother, Jared and I all laughed.
Until I slid back into my seat and noticed Jared was all soft-eyed and gazing at me as if I was Mother Theresa.
Suddenly self-conscious, I rubbed my cheek. “What?”
“You’re such a natural mom.”
The words doused icy water on my anticipatory mood. I tried to shake off the chill that stole over me. Not today. “No, I’m not. She’s just sweet.”
“So are you.”
I frowned and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Are you buttering me up to get laid? You don’t have to. I’m a sure thing.”
His grin was slow and sly. “You, Regina Maria Ramos, are anything but.”
After one hell of a start to the dinner courtesy of my best friend, conversation and laughter flowed smoothly among the family and friends in attendance. Mason, in particular, seemed amused the entire meal. Jake was at the firehouse because of an unexpected issue so Mason and Erica were trading stories about running a bar and restaurant.
Jared’s dad was making conversation with my abuela and my Uncle Ernesto, although every now and then, he’d shoot a puzzled look at the baby and then at Jared. I imagined that would be quite a conversation later. The elder Brooks owned a floral shop and was the opposite of a hardass, but his son showing up with a baby—even at thirty-three—must’ve been a shock.
Frankie hadn’t looked up from her pile of steamed carrots since I’d asked her for panties—hey, she was an inveterate shopper, she could’ve bought some new ones she hadn’t worn yet for her trip here—and Gabby was texting sneakily under the table.
Jared and I were keeping things clean. Mostly. We didn’t talk much other than commenting on Samantha’s fascination with peas, but we exchanged a lot of long looks. I found reasons to lean over him for the salt or pepper or whatever else came to his end of the table, usually so I could rub against him in some inappropriate way. Once, my nipple had dragged over his arm, and he’d nibbled my earlobe while pretending to whisper to me, sending a jolt straight to my clit.
The bastard had known my reaction too. He’d shot me a heavy-lidded look and licked his lips and I’d deliberately looked at his groin to give him some payback of my own.
Still locked and loaded.
“I’m sorry about not making your pie. I’ll give you something else to eat though.” I fluttered my lashes. “Depending on your preferences.”