Sutton's Choice (Hudson Boys Book 1) Page 8

  I follow them inside and look around the space. Rows and rows of furniture and appliances line the large warehouse. The shit seems new and not what I imagined I'd find here. I pictured torn materials and stained-up cushions, but I'm surprised to find that everything looks well maintained.

  "Can I help you, gentleman?" The three of us turn at the same time and find the woman walking in our direction. She is a little older; maybe in her forties, brunette hair bob cut and a rack that seems out of place on her small frame. Immediately I know they aren't natural, but Rory and Bennett share a look of interest, and I chuckle under my breath. Horny bastards.

  "Is everything here pre-owned?" I ignore the guys and take the initiative to move this outing along.

  "Most of what you see out here on the floor has been pre-owned; yes," she pauses only a few feet away. "However, we do carry new items in the next room. What is it you are looking for today?"

  "Couch, kitchen table and chairs, pretty much everything but bedroom furniture." I can hear one of the two behind me mumble something about getting one of the showroom couches messy with her, but I ignore them. You'd think neither of them had been laid in months.

  "Do you prefer new?"

  "Couch, yes," I still had no desire to lounge around on a couch that may or may not have once been soiled with anyone's fluids. Just the image alone makes my stomach turn. "The rest I'm open to pre-owned."

  "Okay," she smiles, and I notice how she pushes out her chest and offers a sultry look. "Why don't we start with the new couches then? Follow me," she walks off, looking back over her shoulder and dragging her gaze over the length of my body.

  "Why don't you two stay here?" Bennett says, pushing past me. "Give me thirty minutes alone with her."

  "She'd kill you; I bet that kitty has claws." Rory shoves his shoulder, and I remain where I am as the two of them hurry after her like two schoolboys with crushes. I can't help but wonder how Bennett can be so wrapped up in Sutton but can act like a horny teenage boy regarding every other woman he meets.

  "Do you prefer leather or—,"

  "No leather."

  "Nah, that shit is hard to slide around on," Bennett laughs when I give him a look that I hope tells him to shut the fuck up. It's a bad idea to bring the two of them along.

  Two hours later, I have a new suede dark gray couch with end tables, a small kitchen table and chairs, a flat screen, and a stand to put it on.

  “So, all these things can be delivered to you tomorrow afternoon if that works?"

  "We've got three trucks and three guys right here to load everything." I'm the kind of guy that if I buy something, I want it right then. I'm not particularly eager to wait for anything.

  We load up everything into the bed of our trucks one by one while the brunette, which I learned is Francine, stands back and watches. She is the daughter of the owner, recently divorced, and has an eleven-year-old son. Those are all the things she offered up freely while Rory and Bennett continue to hassle her for more details during our visit. I have no interest in anything more than furniture, but she looks as though she is on the prowl for more and ready to take on all of us if we accept.

  I thank her, and she offers me her card, with her cell number and a little note written on the back. She tells me not to hesitate to call if there is anything more, she can help me with, a sweet smile on her face. I toss it into the center console of my truck, knowing that I'll never use the number.

  Turning up the radio, I find my mind wandering to Sutton. I've thought of her often since our night at the lake. Usually, at the most inappropriate times. To which I'd be forced to hide my body's reaction to the memories. But when I'm alone, when I know no one is watching, I allow myself to remember. I can almost still taste the sweetness of her tongue. The way her body feels hovering over my lap, and her ass, how it fits perfectly in the palm of my hands.

  I crave her, and it doesn't seem as though the desire to feel her again is fading. Instead, I feel like I'm spinning out of control like at any moment I'm going to snap. If that happens, I know if I cross that line, it will destroy one of the most important people in my life.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sutton

  * * *

  "Another round," Kendall holds up her hand, signaling to our table. From behind the bar, Wes offers her a nod, and she goes back to telling us about the shit day she's had. "Seriously, it took everything I had not to march over there and punch her glasses right off her beady eyes. Stupid nosy bitch with her poodle curly brown hair and her pointy nose. Then there's the stupid golf sun visor hat that she wears daily. I don't even think the bitch plays golf."

  Kendall is so fired up, but honestly, her neighbor is by far the most annoying and ridiculous person ever. She is so nosy it's insane. If she focused on her own life instead of worrying about others, maybe she wouldn't have found the need to marry her uncle. Or her ex-uncle, however you look at it, the man was still her uncle during her entire childhood, and just because he isn't blood-related, it still makes it nasty. For God's sake, the man changed her diapers and wiped her snotty nose when she was younger. Then he divorces her aunt, and voila years later, she is married to her uncle. And let's not forget that she even has her ex-lover, who is the father of her daughter, living in the same home with her and her uncle, now husband. It's some Jerry Springer shit for sure, yet the woman still finds the need to be a gossiping bitch and spread rumors about everyone else.

  "She stood on her front porch staring over at my place while the construction crew carried out their equipment. Like how dare I remodel my bathroom without getting her approval. So yes, I may have crossed a line, but she deserved it."

  "What did you do?" We all sit around the tall table, waiting for Kendall to confess her sins.

  "I hollered out, just a remodel, Uncle Fucker; you can go back inside now."

  "Uncle Fucker," I snicker, because come on, that is a good one.

  "Well, she is," Kendall shrugs, and one by one, we all lose it. There is always a new story about Kendall's nightmare neighbor. The woman has no decency; she is ridiculous. First, spreading rumors and lies, listening to the police scanner like it is her lifeline, so she is always up to date on everyone else's business or their shortcomings. Then she'll take what she's heard, flip it around, and spread it like wildfire. For instance, if you call the police because you heard a noise outside and someone is trying to get in your window, the next thing you know, you are a dirty whore that sneak's men in your window whenever your husband leaves for work.

  As I said, the woman is a vile rumor-spreading bitch that needs to be shipped off to some deserted island with her uncle and her ex-baby daddy right along with her. Then, they could live a happy life, and everyone could celebrate their absence.

  "She just crossed her arms over her chest and turned her back to me like a toddler. I was waiting for her to stomp her foot. The crew leader chuckled from behind me and asked what I meant when I called her— uncle fucker."

  Kendall grins happily. "I had to tell him all about how her now-husband was once her uncle and her baby daddy share the house with him too. The poor guy turned green on the spot and walked away mumbling something about sick ass people and their inbred asses."

  I'm laughing so hard I have tears.

  "Serves her right really, I mean, she is the one that has no problem sticking her nose in everyone else's business. I hate how she plays innocent after all the drama she creates. I am not a violent person, but that is one woman I would love to knock back a few decades. I've never hated one person more."

  For the next hour, we all share ways of getting the best of this woman. Finally, Kendall has reached her breaking point.

  "Don't be mad," Adley whispers next to me, and I turn to face her. "I miss them, and I told them where we would be tonight." I don't have to ask after that point because I already know why she feels the need to apologize.

  "Hey, Tink," I close my eyes and take in a deep breath before turning my chair around slowly to face B
ennett. I've managed to avoid him at every turn. I even missed the first Sunday in months at the teen center so that I didn't have to face him. I was torn between that awkwardness with him and feeling terrible for what I did with Brantley at the lake. "Can we talk?" With the amount of alcohol I've consumed, I'm not sure that it's a good idea. I'm already feeling a little nauseous with just the thought of revisiting the topic with him. He'd become one of my best friends, and I hate feeling as if there is now a wedge driven between us. But, on the other hand, I've never felt uneasy in Bennett's presence, everything was always so simple until now. "Nothing heavy Tink, don't worry."

  I nod as I stand, and the moment my feet hit the floor, my body sways a little. Quickly Bennett reaches out to hold me up, and that alone brings us closer together. I can feel his breath on my cheek, and my body pressed firmly to his.

  "How much have you had to drink?" Too much, way too much.

  Releasing his hold on me, he starts to lead me away from the group, and when I glance back, I feel somewhat disappointed that Brantley isn't with them.

  We step outside, and I find a railing to lean my body against. It's what I get for drinking far too much in a short time. My legs are like silly string.

  Bennett places his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his feet. "I should never have said anything," he goes right in, and I look down at my feet like a coward. "I care about you, Sutton. I can't lie about that. I'd be a fool not to be attracted to you, but losing my friend terrifies me." I look up at him, and he smiles. "I love you," my heart feels like it stops. "You are a big part of my life, and if I've noticed anything over the last week, it's that I don't like not having you around. I miss my friend Sutton."

  Tears blur my vision, and I nod in agreement because I miss him too. I know I will never feel anything more for Bennett. Even before meeting his brother, those feelings were never going to be more than friendship. I do love him, but I could never be in love with him.

  "So, what do you say? Can we move past this and get back to the way things were?"

  "I'd like that," but the fear still lingers. We may never be who we once were. I know now that I'll always wonder about every move Bennett makes or every word he speaks, looking for the hidden innuendos and advancements. I'll be more cautious now with how I act around him, not wanting to cross a line that has now been drawn. Staying over at his house after having one too many beers during football Sunday won't ever happen again.

  "Hug it out," he holds out his arms, and I hesitate. Then, finally, he tilts his head to the side, and a hint of sadness lingers in his eyes that breaks my heart. Never before would I even have thought twice about accepting a hug from him. I've always loved a good Bennett hug; it makes me feel safe.

  I shift closer, and he guides me to him, wrapping me in his arms. "Whatever guy you do choose; I'll take the time to remind him regularly of just how lucky he is. You are the dream girl, Sutton." I close my eyes tightly and turn my face close to his chest. He holds me, and for a few minutes, I allow him to. I want so desperately to go back to where we were a few weeks ago. The place where we'd sit in his living room, drinking beer and laughing as I tried to match him burp for burp. But I feel he and I will never be that again, and it breaks my heart.

  The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the silence, and instead of Bennett letting me go, he shifts to his side, taking me with him. Again, I find myself staring into the eyes of Brantley, and my heart feels like it shatters in my chest.

  These O'Shay men are going to be the death of me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brantley

  * * *

  "Hey boy," I slide my palm over Coal's side toward his neck and smile. He shakes it in return and stomps his front hoof, kicking up dust. "Yeah, I've missed you too." Nothing is better than taking off, for hours riding over the hills, walking along the stream, and having peace surround you. Coal has given me an escape so many times in my life. He was one of the hardest things about being so far away from home. But I love riding, I always have.

  "Son," my father exits the stall next to Coal's and appears surprised to see me standing there. "I thought all you boys were going out to cause some trouble after work?"

  It's been days since I climbed out of my truck and walked toward the bar to find Sutton tucked into my brother's chest. She looked happy to be there, and from the smile on Bennett's face, he was eating that shit up. I tried not to seem affected, but the truth was I felt like I'd been kicked in the nuts.

  "Decided to stay here in Hudson," seeing Sutton and my brother together isn't top on my list of things I want to do. "Thought about taking Coal out for a ride." I'm in desperate need of an escape. From life, from the loneliness, I feel. I’m surrounded by people I love; however, I feel like I'm on my own. I feel more alone now than I had in the middle of a sandy desert on the darkest of nights while fighting the enemy.

  "Been a long time since you've done that," he steps in closer, looking over my face as if he is trying to read my thoughts. "Everything okay?"

  "I'm good, Pop," I have to be. "Told Uncle Randy I’d drywall on the Conklin house tomorrow and didn't think it'd be a good idea doing it hungover."

  "You've been working a lot of overtime lately."

  I have, but there isn't much else to do when you're trying to drown out your anger and frustrations. The idea of Bennett kissing Sutton drives me crazy, his hands on her, that sets me on fire. I'm losing a battle with myself and fast. "I like to stay busy."

  "I can think of a whole lot of other ways to stay busy," when he arches a brow and the corner of his lip curls up in a smile, I know what he is referring to. "Whole lot a pretty ladies out there that'd occupy your time."

  "Maybe," but not the one I want. "I think I'm trying to get myself settled. Everything is different out here in the real world. I've lived a different kind of life for a long time, and it takes some getting used to is all."

  "I assume so," he nods. "But you do know if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm here."

  "I know," though I don't know how he'll take to me telling him that I want the same girl as my brother. A father caught between his two sons seems unfair. "I'm good, Pop." I will be I don't have a choice.

  He leaves me alone with Coal. Slowly I ease him out of the barn and toward the fence. Then, climbing up onto his back, I run my hand over his neck again. "You ready boy," with pause, I give him a little nudge, and we're off. For now, the familiarity of his ride eases my troubles, but I know they'll be back. They always come back.

  "Can you grab the last box of apples from the back of the truck for me?" My Ma continues to place apples into the tall basket displays next to her table. Four wide four high, each basket holding more than thirty to forty apples each, she's in her zone. A flea market is her happy place, and I'm glad to volunteer to help her set up her booth. Honestly, I don't say no when it comes to my mom.

  "Yeah, I'll be right back."

  We've been here for several hours already, and she's gone through many boxes of apples and her peaches. Rave reviews come from each returning customer, and she glows with happiness each time. I nod to a few people as I pass. Many of the women who recognize me smile, and the men offer an assertive dip of their chins as I move my way toward the exit.

  Stepping outside, I walk toward the truck. Grabbing the box I lift it and rest it on my shoulder, as I turn around; up ahead I see a flash of blonde hair and my feet shuffle as I come to an abrupt halt. Tight shorts, a red tank top, and boots, I'd know that ass anywhere. I'd held that ass in my hands. I'd thought of doing just that, so many times since that day by the lake, and every time I feel guilty for doing so.

  Sutton turns toward the older woman at her side and says something before walking inside and disappearing out of sight. I stand by the truck, knowing that I'll be unable to avoid her if I go inside.

  A big part of me wants to go after her. Maybe pull her off to the side and ask her what in the hell is going on. One minute she kisses me, and the next, she
's hugging my brother. This shit is screwing with my mind, and I shouldn't let it. My father is right. There are plenty of ladies out there that can occupy my time.

  Old man Wilson comes out pushing an empty cart toward his truck, and when he glances toward me, he pauses. "Everything okay, boy?"

  I am torn between what I should do and what my body is screaming for me to carry out.

  "I just got a call, and I need to get going," I take a step toward him. "Is there any way you could take these into my Ma and tell her that I had a friend that needed me, and I had to go?"

  "I can." He turns the cart toward me and nods for me to place the box there.

  "I appreciate it," more than I can ever express.

  I sit in my truck, still not moving long after Mr. Wilson pushes the cart back inside. My hands are fisting the steering wheel as I fight the urge to rush inside and say it's a false alarm and that I can stay. I want to see Sutton, I crave her smile, but instead, I put the truck into drive and pull out of the parking lot. Only I don't turn toward home. I drive in the opposite direction instead. I need to get away for a while.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sutton

  * * *

  The music pumps through the room, and I bounce along as I pace from one side to the next. The older age group is by far the most determined to nail every single step in their routines. The advanced class, the elite, I love the way they move together almost as one. Every action and shift, moving in sync to the person or persons at their sides. It's virtually hypnotizing and incredibly magical all at the same time.

  "Yes," the music ends, and again, each one of them sticks the ending precisely as they should. "Amazing guys," I'm humming with excitement, "perfect." What else can I say? Honestly, there is nothing I'd have them change. "We've got this," they all stand and walk toward the benches that hold their water bottles and towels. "This show is going to be by far the best one yet."