Evolve Series Box Set (66 page)

We move down the hall and he shows me the linen closet and guest bathroom, which I will gladly let him let me redecorate; it’s hideous.

“There’re two bedrooms, this is the spare one,” he says as he ushers me in to the decent-sized room.

“Who will be my roommate?” I ask.

“You don’t have to have one if you don’t want. It’s not like you have to make rent. We can make that room anything you want. Come on, let’s see the master.”

My room is huge, much bigger than any I’ve ever had, with a private bathroom (also needing severe redecoration), a walk-in closet, and the coolest bay window.

“I love it.” I spin, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you bought me a house. You’re too good to be true.” I kiss him deeply, trying to tell him all the big, fluffy words that mean I love you that I can’t iterate.

“I can’t wait to christen every inch of this place,” he says, his wink on auto-pilot, “and hold you every single night. But for now, let’s go to my house. At least until we get furniture here.” He laughs.

“My dad will give me my bedroom furniture, but what am I gonna do about the other rooms?”

“You’re going to fill them with stuff we pick out together. That way I’m there to ensure it’s all sturdy enough.” He answers my confused look by dipping me back, sucking right at the hollow dip in my throat. “Think about it, baby, you’ll figure it out.”

CHAPTER 29

Fortress

***Evan***

“So what’d you do all night?” Whitley whispers long after I thought she was asleep.

“I’ll show you tomorrow when it’s light out and you’re sober. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m sober now,” she rolls towards me, “and I’m not tired. What was all that in the living room? I wanna go see.”

I’d planned a big night, as much set up inside as out, but when I picked her up and found her drunk, I thought it’d be easier to just carry her in and tuck her in bed. How she’d remained floppy as a rag doll when I dressed her down to panties and a shirt for sleeping but somehow caught the production in the living room I’m not sure. I suspect I’d been duped and her snuggling up against me, bare legs thrown over me, was purposeful.

Not that I mind.

“You sure you don’t want to just go back to sleep? You seemed pretty tipsy before.”

“I’m fine now, promise. So will you show me?” She bounces, happy and perfectly coherent.

“Okay.” I get up, taking her hand. I switch on her hall light as we pass so we’ll have just enough ambience in the living room. I can’t wait to see if she likes it. Everything I’ve done having a recurring theme—I want to give Whitley some childhood fun.

My childhood was great. Both my parents were involved; there were camping and fishing trips, sports, game nights, toys, backyard football, and sledding on the rare snow days we got. Basically, I got it all.

Whitley got next to nothing. Through comments she didn’t even realize she’d made and the few stories she’s shared, I learned a lot about her childhood. Whitley’s her parents’ starched and pressed trophy daughter, never allowed to let loose or get dirty.

Evan Allen’s fixin’ to show her the good stuff. You’ll never be happy with where you end up if you weren’t happy with where you’ve been. And I’ve seen enough glimpses into the real Whitley to know that the girl is dying to have fun, get filthy, and let her hair down…who better to do all that with than yours truly?

“Ready?” I lean my head around hers, making sure my hands completely cover her eyes.

“Yes!”

“Ta-da!” I remove my hands and watch as she takes in the scene before her, then tries to give me a counterfeit smile. “You don’t like it?” I ask, disappointment setting in heartbreakingly fast.

“Oh, I’m sure I love it,” she says politely, then nibbles her bottom lip, glancing over to me. “What is it?”

Poor, sheltered, ripped off Whitley. “It’s a living room fort! Haven’t you—” No, you know she hasn’t, fool! “Come on!” 

I drag her over and crawl into the makeshift fortress, which is constructed the good, old-fashioned way—every blanket and sheet I could find draped over and/or held up by every chair in the house and other tall, sturdy things. Every kid’s favorite spot.

“Come in here with me!” I call out to her. “It’s fun.”

She probably thinks I’ve lost my ever-lovin’ mind, but my powers only go so far. I can’t make her a little kid again (never gonna happen) but I can bring the little kid to her.

Her sweet little face pops in through the opening. “This is awesome!” she says dreamily, crawling in further. “Wow, you thought of everything.”

I’d stacked pillows and blankets inside, making the most comfortable bunker possible, and of course, stocked all the other necessities. “Here.” I hand her one of the flashlights, flicking my own to life. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” I run and turn out the hall light and hurry back inside with her, the flashlights now our only glow. “I have snacks, cards, and—”

“I think we should tell ghost stories!” she suggests with a giggle.

Oh yeah, she gets it, and she’s having a blast. Sawyer had called me an array of names when he saw what I had in store; pussy, cheesy and cornball the ones I specifically remember, but Dane hadn’t said a word, just shot me a knowing smile…’cause well, his girlfriend is Laney. Enough said.

Being best friends with Laney all those years, I know all about a girl’s “inner child.” Women try their whole lives to stay young; cosmetics, hair dye, tanning salons…plastic surgeons and Wonderbra companies have built empires around that fact. So any chance you have to make a woman feel young and whimsical, channeling her inner tea party and fairy…you do it. Especially if they never got to enjoy it in the first damn place.

“Excellent fort activity, Miss Thompson. Would you like to go first?”

“No, you go first.” She lays down, her head in my lap. “I’m ready.”

“This is called Who Stole My Golden Arm,” I begin, laughing as a shiver runs through her body.

***

If you’ve never been woken up by a piglet rooting your face with its sloppy, wet nose, well, you’re not living right, ‘cause it is just great.

“Ugh,” I groan, pushing the little pain in the ass away, “go see your mother.”

“Come here, baby,” she mumbles sleepily, pawing around to find him. “He’s just jealous of how much I love you.”

She may be right, but I’m too tired and stiff to think about it. I don’t remember sleeping in a fort being this damn uncomfortable when I was a kid. Hay stacks, forts…one of these days I’m gonna hold Whitley all night long in a bed.

“You want coffee?” I roll over and face her. She looks adorable when she wakes up, messy hair and sleepy blue eyes peeking out at me from her blanket cocoon.

“I’ll make it!” She smiles. “Will you take Tiny out? His leash is by the door.”

Along with his monogrammed food and water bowl, his toy pile and his wagon. Yes, wagon.

Me and Ms. Thang are gonna go round and round when it comes to our kids. My sons will not be pansies and my little girls will not be pageant brats.

Okay, so maybe my little blonde, blue-eyed princess would look cute waving to her daddy from the stage, all frills and bows…

The pig starts whining at me, climbing precariously close to my junk, breaking my trance. Was I just spacing out on mine and Whitley’s babies? That’s something I’ve never done before ever.

“All right, Wilbur, let’s go out,” I grumble, getting up.

“You’ll confuse him if you call him other names!” she calls from the kitchen. My hummingbird has the ears of a werewolf. 

“What are you gonna do when he has to go live on the farm?” I wrap my arms around her from behind, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Will I get all that leftover attention?” My mouth seeks her neck now. “‘Cause I’ll take it.”

“Maybe,” she teases, and I could swear pushes her butt into me just a bit. “I’ll make you pancakes while you take him out.”

God, I hope there’s no one outside, seeing me walking a damn pig on a leash. The things men do for their women.

“I’ll clean up the living room when I get back in since you’re cooking.” I steal another taste of her neck.

“No, leave it, I wanna sleep there again tonight.”

“Okay then,” I chuckle at her, already feeling my back and legs stiffen up. “Come on, Porky.”

I keep walking as she scowls at me behind my back. Yes, I’m sure.

***

“There’s more?” she asks, her voice chipper and anxious.

“Well, yeah, you didn’t think it took me all that time just to set up the fort, did you?”

“I don’t know,” her shoulders pop up, “it was pretty fancy. Okay, okay, show me!”

I lower my hands, once again covering her eyes, and scoot back, leaning against the beam behind me. “Go crazy, woman.”

It takes her a while, her face in delighted shock, awe, eyes bulging as she slowly and meticulously takes in every single thing. Her hands fly to her mouth, tears starting to roll down her cheeks as she gasps, then shakes her head, and gasps again. “W-where? H-how?” She stutters, then takes a deep breath. “You—how’d you?”

Now I move in, pulling her into my arms, kissing the top of her head as she moves into full-blown sobbing. “You like it?”

She nods, face buried in my shirt, and my heart bursts knowing I’ve shown her just a hint of what she means to me. I will never stop listening when she talks, never stop hearing what she’s really trying to tell me, and for sure never get comfortable thinking I can’t outdo my last big surprise.

“Come on, pretty girl, let’s go have a closer look before everyone gets here.” I lift her face with both hands and wipe her drenched cheeks. “Happy tears,” I mumble, leaning over to kiss off what my fingers missed.

“Who’s everyone?”

“The Crew.” I grin. “The best part of all this? Having great friends to share it with. And don’t worry, the mud puddle will dry up and grow back over when you’re tired of it.”

I’m not gonna lie, even with me, Zach, Sawyer and Dane working like dogs, this was quite the project. In the middle of the backyard, and the main event, is a super slide, complete with huge mud hole at the end, dug and filled by Sawyer. The trampoline in the corner, assembled by Zach and Dane, is covered in pre-filled Super Soakers.

Flowers of every color outline the entire perimeter of her backyard, planted by all four of us. We’d also laid a rock pathway from the patio, now adorned with white lights and tiki posts as well as a BBQ grill and chef station, all the way to the 13 gallon pool. I can see it’s still not quite full, all the balls and blow up seahorses and whatnot bobbing at almost the halfway mark, but it will be soon enough. And at least it isn’t filled with Jell-O like Sawyer suggested.

Yes, we’d gone crazy and her backyard now looks like Funapalooza threw up in it. It’s maybe even a bit gaudy, and it’d put a huge dent in my savings, but I know it was worth it. Even now, her smile can’t be wiped off and a tear sneaks out every few seconds.

I lead her to the far corner, where the big tree stands, to my favorite part. “Sit down and I’ll push you.” I kiss her softly, holding still the swing I’d hung from the tree for her.

“Evan, I can’t believe you do all this for me.” She sits in the swing, gripping the ropes. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, ever. And, ohhh,” her breath catches, exaggerated—she’s spotted it. “Oh! Oh my God!” She stands, walking slowly to the tree. She traces it with one fingertip, finally looking back at me. “You carved our initials in the tree?”

“I did.” I give her a wink and flirtatious grin, making my way to her.

“You are so,” she turns in my arms, looking up at me, “kind and romantic and unbelievably sexy. Perfect.”

She’d done such a fine job summing it up I don’t think any more words are necessary. Putting my mouth to better use, I devour hers, reaching under her butt to lift her against me, then back her up against the tree.

“That too rough on your back, hummingbird?”

“No,” she moans, “but don’t you mean swan?” she pants, digging into my hair and driving me insane, “or angelfish?”

“Huh?” Actually, never mind, I can’t take it another second. I have to see her, taste test a new part of her. I brace her harder against the tree with my hips and move a hand to her top, flicking open button after button until her pale pink bra comes into view. Whitley has an ample chest, and the skin falling out of the cups is too inviting, making it impossible to stop myself as I pull the lace down, freeing her breasts to bounce out before my eyes.

Damn, definitely more than a handful, with dusky pink nipples hard and begging. “You’re gorgeous, Whit.” I dip my head to try and smother myself, thinking it’d be a helluva way to go. “Tell me this is okay,” I beg.

“It’s so okay, oh my God, yes.” Her head falls back, her chest pounding.

I know she can feel my body’s response, and, caught in the haze of lust, I grind myself between her legs, our tortured moans synchronized.

“Hey hey hey!” Sawyer’s voice reaches out through our daze and grabs my balls, twisting them mercilessly, as welcome as a prostate check from Captain Hook.

“Why does God hate me?” I whine into her soft, ivory flesh.

Her hands are working frantically to right her clothes and I painfully, begrudgingly, set her to her feet.

“Go let him in the gate; I’m gonna run in and freshen up,” she says, rising on her tiptoes to brush her lips softly against mine. “Go on, grumpy, I promise to make it up to you later.”

“Or you could wait right here and I’ll go kill him real quick.”

“Go on.” She laughs and gives me a playful shove.

“Finally,” Sawyer cocks off when I let him in, “what the fuck, you forget you invited us over?”

“Something like that,” I grumble, taking stuff out of his arms. “What’s all this?”

“Half the damn grocery store. Somehow I got nominated to go with Laney and Bennett’s lists.”

“It’s good for ya. One of these days some girl’s gonna snag ya and knock ya on your ass. This way, you’ll be ready.”