Big Hose (Size Matters #2) Read online

Page 6


  “There’s my boy.” Jake reached down to playfully tug the boy’s cap over his eyes.

  “Stop it,” the boy said, swatting Jake’s hand away and laughing.

  I recognized Scott Garrett. He was a first grader at Earhart Elementary.

  Garrett.

  Scott’s last name was Garrett and I suddenly put something together I hadn’t before.

  “Steady, girl,” Ada said, when she noticed my face. “You got it all wrong.”

  I glanced at her. “What?”

  “Scott isn’t Jake’s son. He’s his little brother.”

  “Oh. That’s a huge age difference.”

  “You’re not kidding. Get Jake to tell you about his family some time. It’s a hot mess and probably the main reason the dude has serious commitment issues. Come on. Let’s grab a bleacher. It looks like they’re getting ready to start.”

  Ada and I sat with a few other parents, everyone chatting sociably and laughing at the shit show on the field. The kids were running in a million different directions, chasing after the missed pitches and the actual tee took way more hits than the ball. I watched as Jake patiently put it back on time after time, demonstrating how the kids should hold the bat and swing.

  It took George three times before he connected with the ball, sending it just past the pitcher’s mound. I cheered loudly as Ada rolled her eyes. “You’re going to be one of those moms, aren’t you? The one who believes her kid is destined for the Major Leagues.”

  I shrugged, grinning at her joke. “All I’m saying is Georgie hit it in three tries. Clara took at least a dozen swings before hitting a foul ball.”

  “Bitch,” Ada muttered with a laugh.

  I was surprised when Jake called the players together to offer some last-minute instruction before reminding them that their next practice was Thursday. The hour I had expected to be a slog had flown by.

  I walked over to George, who was talking excitedly to Scott. When he saw me, he grabbed my hand. “Mommy, Jake and Scott are going to the arcade and having pizza for dinner. Can we go too?”

  “George…” I was about to explain to my son that it wasn’t polite to invite yourself to someone else’s plans when we were interrupted.

  “I asked George if the two of you could come along,” Jake said as he walked up. Then he pointed to Scott. “Have you met this rascal at school yet?”

  “I think we’ve passed each other in the hall a few times. Hello, Scott.”

  “Hi, Miss Connor. Can you all come with us? I want to show George the Skee-Ball machine.”

  “Well.” I glanced at Jake. “If you’re sure we’re not imposing.”

  Jake stepped closer, too close, and I looked around. Most of the others had already left, Ada included, but there were still a couple families nearby.

  “How are your Skee-Ball skills, Miss Connor?” he asked, placing a kiss on my cheek.

  George and Scott both giggled as I narrowed my eyes in warning. I hadn’t dated anyone since George was born, so I wasn’t entirely sure how to handle Jake’s display of affection. We both knew this was going to be a casual fling, so the last thing I wanted was for George to get the wrong idea. The kid was already too infatuated with Jake.

  So was I, for that matter.

  “Behave,” I murmured. “And my Skee-Ball skills are stellar.”

  Jake tossed an equipment bag over his shoulder. “I’ll be the judge of that. You know where the arcade is or do you want to follow us?”

  “I probably better follow.” Bootlick wasn’t a huge place, but there were more than a few streets I’d never driven down. Until this moment, I hadn’t even known there was an arcade in town. I was sorry George suddenly knew about it. I had a feeling he was going to start begging to go there a lot from now on.

  We walked to the parking lot together, then I pulled out behind Jake, after he’d stowed the equipment in the back of the truck. It was a ten-minute drive from the field to the arcade and George talked the entire time, asking if I’d seen him catch the ball or sharing some advice Jake had given him.

  George had been harboring a fair amount of hero worship for Jake since he’d joined us for dinner, mentioning his name countless times in the past week. Now that Jake had moved from Mommy’s friend to Coach, George’s fascination with the man was off the charts. I made a mental note to ask Jake not to kiss me or try to hold my hand in front of George. It would confuse him too much.

  Once we arrived, we parked next to each other in the lot, and Jake and Scott waited for us on the curb as we got out.

  Just as I feared, Jake reached for my hand. I shook my head subtly, watching as he gave me a confused look. The boys raced ahead of us, waiting at the door.

  “I don’t think we should act like a couple in front of George,” I said.

  Jake rubbed his jaw. “Would it be an act?”

  I laughed. “You know it would be. I swear, you’re incorrigible. Ada warned me you were a heartbreaker. I see what she means now.”

  I meant my words to be funny, but I’m not sure Jake took them that way. At least not at first. He gave me a look that almost had me believing I’d hurt his feelings, but then the same affable grin I was becoming too fond of returned.

  “No holding hands in front of George. Got it. For the record, that’s going to cost you when we’re alone.”

  “Cost me?”

  “If you’re going to tie my hands—figuratively—in public, I’m going to tie yours—literally—in bed.”

  I wasn’t aware that my jaw had dropped until Jake closed my mouth with a finger under my chin. “Careful. You’ll catch flies.”

  I tried to laugh, but even I could hear how breathless it was. Jake’s eyes zoomed in on my mouth and I thought he might forget the deal and kiss me. And I realized I wouldn’t mind if he did.

  “Jake,” Scott called. “Come on.”

  We reached the front door and the boys propelled us inside, directly to the machine that gave tokens. Jake slid in a five-dollar bill for each boy, even though I insisted on paying for George’s. When he went ahead anyway, I said, “I’ll pay for the pizza.”

  “We’ll see,” Jake said.

  The two of us grabbed sodas from the fountain machine, placed an order for two large pepperoni pizzas, then found a table, watching as the boys raced from machine to machine, both of them feeling rich with their pockets full of tokens.

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t get together before now,” Jake said.

  “Me too. You have no idea how much.”

  Jake chuckled at the way I emphasized that fact. He leaned closer. “Sweetheart. I was the one who went home hard and hurting. I think you can trust me when I say I might be sorrier.”

  I rested my cheek on my hand as I leaned over the table. “Hey, hotshot. I offered.” I hadn’t flirted with a man since…God, since Alan in college. It was fun.

  Jake split the distance between us again, until our faces were only a few inches apart. “You’re making it very hard for me to behave myself. Keep in mind, every single time you bat those pretty eyelashes at me or lick your lips, you’re adding to the tally.”

  God, everything he said was way too hot. And then, without conscious thought, I glanced at his gorgeous mouth and licked my lips.

  Jake chuckled, then threw my own word back at me. “Behave.”

  I took a deep breath, then looked away, glancing around the arcade until I found George. He and Scott were playing some Old West shooting range game that looked like a throwback from the sixties. Bootlick was one of those towns that didn’t seem to have fully committed to the twenty-first century yet.

  Scott was cheering George on and I realized the Garrett boys were inherently kind.

  “So Scott’s your brother?”

  “Half brother.”

  “Ada said you have an interesting family.”

  “That’s one way to describe it. A nice way.”

  “I actually think she said it was a hot mess.” I purposely didn’t tack on the part Ada
added about his family dynamics impacting his ability to make long-term commitments.

  Jake took a sip of his soda. “She’s not wrong about that. My mom and dad split when I was six. I was the only child from their marriage. Dad remarried three months after the divorce was final and had two more kids with my stepmom, Bernice. Then he had an affair—Bernice caught him in bed with her hairdresser—and they divorced. Dad married the hairdresser, Scarlett, who graduated from high school a year ahead of me.”

  “Scarlett?” I asked.

  “Yep. Name probably says it all. She’s Scott’s mom. Meanwhile, my mom married her boss at the insurance agency, Harold, about ten years ago, after test-driving a shit ton of boyfriends. They have a couple of kids together.”

  I tried to tally up the numbers in my head. “So you have five half siblings, three stepparents and you went to high school with your most recent stepmom?”

  Jake laughed at my summary. “You nailed it.”

  “Wow. I guess I can see why you’re still single.” Once again, I had meant my words as a joke, but Jake didn’t take it that way.

  His face sobered and he nodded slowly.

  His response to my observation surprised me. “Exactly. When I do get married, I’m going to be damn sure I’m marrying the right woman. Divorce sucks.”

  All the gossip I’d heard indicated that Jake was never getting married at all.

  So was he saying that for my benefit? Saying things he thought I wanted to hear.

  I recalled Alan at school, telling me I was different from the other girls, that I’d turned his head and made him want things he’d never wanted before. It had all been bullshit, of course. Empty words used to make him more appealing to me. And it had worked.

  Was Jake employing the same method as part of the seduction?

  I could have told him he didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t.

  I wanted sex. He wanted sex. There were no hurdles, and he certainly didn’t have to try so hard to impress me.

  The pizza arrived, and we called the boys over. I’d thought two pizzas would be too many, but three hungry males proved me wrong quickly.

  The boys ate at the speed of light, both chomping at the bit to spend their last few tokens, then hit the prize counter with their tickets.

  Once every crust was gone, they asked to be excused and were off again.

  “So…” Jake said, once we were alone, leaning closer to murmur, “What were we talking about before? Oh yeah. Me tying you up in bed.”

  I laughed at his lousy segue. “I don’t remember talking about that.”

  “If we weren’t, we should have been. Here’s how it’s going to go down.”

  Despite my better judgment, I shifted until our faces were far too close again. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to straddle his lap and dry hump his crotch. Right here. In the arcade.

  “Or should I say how I’m going to go down?” he corrected.

  Panties wet. Check.

  Nipples hard. Check.

  Pussy clenching. Check. Check. Check.

  Only with Jake had I ever experienced a need so powerful, it physically hurt.

  “Keep talking,” I urged.

  “I’m going to tie your hands behind your back, around the pole at the station. Then I’m going to tug off those godawful jeans that hide way too much of your sweet ass and throw them away.”

  “They’re my mom jeans.”

  “I repeat, they’re going in the garbage. At that point, you’ll be hot for me, begging me to take you.”

  “I don’t beg.”

  Please God. Yes. Take me. Take me right fucking now.

  “Like I said, begging. I’m going to kneel in front of you and put one of your legs over my shoulder.” He glanced down, then placed his hand on my left knee. “That one. That one’s going up. Then I’m going to put my lips on your—”

  “Hey, Jake.”

  I moved away from Jake quickly, my response the same as if my parents had just come home and caught me with a boy in my bedroom. Jake grinned and gave me a quick wink. I had no doubt my cheeks were flushed and I was struggling to catch my breath.

  As I leaned back in my chair, I barely restrained my groan when Lauren Rogers sashayed to the table, looking like she was walking the catwalk in Paris during Fashion Week.

  I glanced down at my baggy jeans—Jake was right, they sucked—and my favorite faded Queen T-shirt. My hair was still in the braid I’d plaited this morning and I hadn’t bothered to touch up my makeup either. Why would I? My original plan when I left the house this afternoon had been to sit like a moody bitch on the bleachers at tee-ball practice. If I’d known Jake was the coach, I would have tried a hell of a lot harder.

  Of course, my current appearance hadn’t occurred to me until I saw Lauren. Probably because Jake looked at me like I was gorgeous. A girl could get used to those looks of his. Which was probably why his track record at charming women out of their pants was so great.

  Lauren had touched up everything before coming out tonight. She’d added fresh mascara and lipstick and not a damn blonde hair was out of place as it hung loose and wavy over her shoulders in a sexy style that—as I looked around the pizza place—was achieving Lauren’s desired effect. I counted at least three guys staring at her, practically drooling.

  Lauren had changed out of what she sneeringly referred to as her school uniform—which was basically appropriate shirts and dress pants. Apparently, her idea of Monday night pizza and arcade attire was a mini-skirt and a low-cut shirt with no less than a dozen bangle bracelets on each wrist.

  She narrowed her eyes when she saw me, then smirked at my outfit. “Oh. Hi, Hope. I didn’t see you there. Taking a quick break from housecleaning to pick up a pizza?”

  Before I could come up with a suitable retort, Jake took over the conversation. “Hope and I grabbed some dinner with the boys after tee-ball practice.”

  Lauren glanced around and saw Scott. She called out his name and he waved. “Hey, Aunt Lauren.”

  Aunt Lauren? Was Lauren part of Jake’s twisted family tree?

  “Honorary name,” she said to me. “I’m really close with Jake…and his family.”

  I didn’t imagine the pause she’d inserted. Lauren was making sure it sounded like she was close to Jake’s family because of him.

  “Scarlett and Lauren were best friends in high school,” Jake explained.

  “Gotcha,” I said, grateful that he’d taken the time to clarify.

  Lauren dismissed my presence at the table, all her attention focused on Jake. “I’m picking up a pizza to take back to Scarlett’s. We’re doing a little girls’ night with margaritas.”

  “On a school night?” I wanted to kick my own ass the second the question flew out because it only solidified Lauren’s impression of me as the world’s most boring “good girl.”

  She rolled her eyes for Jake’s benefit. “That’s our Hope. Ever the rule follower.” Lauren glanced at her phone. “It’s nearly seven. I’m surprised you’re out so late. Aren’t you worried about missing curfew, Hope?”

  Lauren followed her words with a playful laugh, her way of making everything she said sound like a joke instead of the insult she’d definitely intended.

  “Are you bringing Scott home, Jake?” Lauren made it sound like they all lived together.

  Jake nodded. “Yeah. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”

  “Cool. We’ll make an extra margarita for you.”

  Jake shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m not interested in crashing girls’ night.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Lauren put her hand on Jake’s shoulder, leaning forward slightly in a way that put his eyes right at cleavage level. “Girls’ night is always more fun with you there.”

  My hands curled into fists. I wasn’t a violent person by nature. I’d never hit another living soul in my life, but damn if I wasn’t sitting here imagining myself ripping big chunks of Lauren’s bleached blonde hair out.

  Lauren str
aightened when the girl behind the counter called out her name. “There’s my pizza. Be sure not to keep Hope out too late, Jake. I’ll see you later.”

  “See you,” he said, waving as she left.

  It was irrational to be upset that Jake was going to see Lauren later. He wasn’t my boyfriend and it wasn’t like I didn’t know he got around.

  But there was something about the idea that he’d actually done a girls’ night with Lauren that got under my skin. She was a nasty cow and anyone with half a brain could see that. The fact that Jake was just like every other man in here—seeing nothing more than the surface when it came to her—made me wonder if I should let things go any farther than they already had.

  Then I had another disquieting thought.

  Had Lauren and Jake slept together?

  Because that would be a deal breaker for me.

  For a split second, I considered asking. But I didn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  Knowing Jake had been with Lauren would keep me away. I knew that. Knew it so well, that I decided I didn’t want to know.

  Because I didn’t want to stay away from him.

  “Where were we?” Jake said, ready to pick up where we’d left off in our previous conversation.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say my knee was over his shoulder and his mouth was on me, but the moment had passed.

  Ada had commented that I was losing perspective when it came to Jake and what I would get from him. My sudden jealousy had me thinking she was right.

  “I’m afraid I should get home. I have lesson plans to write and George needs a bath.”

  “Yeah. I promised to have Scott home early too.”

  I pretended it didn’t bother me that he suddenly seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Had he just gotten a better offer for the night? From Lauren?

  “Friday night,” he said as we stood up.

  “What?”

  “Get a sitter for Friday night.”

  If I’d had a brain in my head, I would have said no.

  Sadly…my skull was currently vacant.

  “Okay.”

  “It’s my turn to cook for you. Come to my place. Six o’clock.”

  “Your apartment above the fire station?”