Southern Storm (Southern 3)

“That was your fault.” He turns on the water in the shower. “I told you that it’s a myth. You can’t get stuck on cock in water.” I throw my head back and laugh. “Now get in.” He holds open the door.

“No funny stuff,” I say as I walk in even though I know I’m not even going to stop him. We stay in the shower until the water runs cold. That night, I fall asleep naked in his arms, and we both wake up, looking for each other. He makes love to me slowly during the night, and when I wake up the next morning, it’s with his face between my legs.

“What time are we leaving?” I ask from my side of the bed, holding the sheet up on my chest while I drink the coffee he made for me.

“We can leave after this,” he says. “I’m going to have someone come and replace the bed this week.”

“What?” I ask, shocked.

“He’s not going to have the bed we have sex on,” he says, and I laugh, leaning forward and kissing him. We get up after we finish our coffee and make the bed, then get dressed.

On the ride home, we talk this time, the nervousness of before gone. He stops at the diner on the way home, and I get out with not a care in the world. He puts his arm around me, and I slip my fingers in the hand that is hanging over my shoulder, then lean over and kiss his neck. I almost forget that it’s not just the two of us. But that all changes when we walk into the diner and all the talking stops, and everyone looks over at the door.

“We aren’t in Kansas anymore,” I mumble and drop his hand, expecting him to drop his arm from around my shoulders, but he doesn’t.

“Afternoon, everyone,” he says, smiling as we walk in, letting his hand fall now, but linking our hands together. “Thought I would bring the missus in for a burger.” I see some of the old ladies side-eye me and shake their heads. I put my head down, avoiding eye contact when we sit in the booth, and he looks at me. “What are you getting?” he asks, tapping his thumb on the table.

I avoid his eyes, not wanting him to see the stupid tears that have creeped up. “I don’t know. I’m not that hungry,” I say, and he stops strumming his finger.

“Don’t let the old ones get to you,” he says, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips. “If they know they get to you, they will keep doing it.”

“It’s easy for you to say.” I look at him. “You haven’t been the outsider your whole life.” He doesn’t have a chance to say anything before Mr. Lewis comes over.

“I brought you two some root beer floats.” He puts the frosted mugs in front of us. “It’s a wedding present.” He smiles at us. “Always knew you two would end up together.” He winks and walks away.

“Well, I guess it was just the two of us then,” I say, grabbing one of the cold mugs and taking the straw and dunking it in. Then I grab the spoon and take a bite of the ice cream. I’m about to say something else when the door opens, and Chase comes in. “Oh, God,” I say, my hands suddenly nervous. He looks around the room, smiling to a couple of people, and then when he turns and looks our way, he just glares. He walks over to the counter and sits with his back to us. “I guess I deserved that one.”

“Well, if you think that is bad,” Beau says, “Melody just gave me the look of death.” I look around, spotting her at a table with her grandmother.

“She is still looking our way,” I say, and he gets up, walking to my side of the booth and slipping in.

“Well, then let’s give them something to talk about,” he says right before he kisses me. Make no mistake about it, his tongue slides with mine, and I taste the sweet of the ice cream on his tongue.

“I love you,” he whispers when he stops kissing me, and I’m about to tell him the same when someone fills the booth, and I look over at Liam.

“Hey there, little brother,” he says, and I can feel Beau’s energy change from beside me. “Heard you finally got married.” His smile is creepy and leery, and I wonder how such a horrible human could have made Ethan. “Always wanted to be me.” He looks around to make sure no one is listening. “Even took my sloppy seconds.”

I put my hand on Beau’s chest to stop him from jumping over the table and attacking Liam. “He isn’t worth it.”