Just Like That (The Kings)

I couldn’t sleep.

Living in seclusion was supposed to be peaceful, but I’d always been a light sleeper. With the weather cooling, I’d opened the house, hoping the distant crashing of waves would lull me to sleep.

No such luck.

Instead, my brain became acutely aware of every single noise inside and outside the house. My brain looped on a thousand questions: Did Hazel remember to lock the bus? How secure was that thing? Does Teddy wear a seat belt inside of it when she’s driving? Why did she have to smell so good?

When I heard the metal groan of the school bus door, I immediately thought Teddy was sneaking out again. Already wide awake, I padded to my window and looked out of the second-floor window. The yard was cast in eerie, shifting shadows.

Below me, Hazel was walking away from her skoolie in a thin yellow nightgown that barely covered her ass. She moved silently across the lawn until she disappeared around the corner. Curious, I threw on a pair of sweatpants and made my way downstairs. I peeked behind the curtain at the kitchen window and saw her standing across the lawn on the edge of the sand dune cliff. Beside her was the wooden staircase that led to the private beach.

Hazel looked like a ghost with her short pajamas billowing in the breeze and her rose gold hair floating away from her shoulders. She spread her arms wide. For a moment fear kicked in and I thought she might jump, but instead she crouched and curled into a tiny ball on the ground. I stared until I realized her shoulders had begun to shake, and soft sobs floated through the window.

I dragged a hand across my face. “Fuck.”

There were a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t have gone out there. Hazel had upended my life. She was a pain in my ass. A stranger. She was a distraction that I absolutely did not need to entertain.

Despite my logical reasons, I sighed and made my way to the front door. As quietly as I could, I unlocked and opened the door to walk out onto the front porch. Two steps down the stairs and the wood creaked under my weight.

Hazel startled and immediately began wiping away her tears. She stood, clearing her throat and making a beeline back across the grass toward the bus. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I held up a hand to stop her. “You didn’t.”

I lowered myself to the stairs and gestured beside me. “Want a seat?”

She eyed the space next to me before her eyes roamed over my bare chest. A tiny breath escaped between the small gap in her velvety lips. Tension crackled in the night air as she didn’t make a move to sit.

After an eternity, she folded herself onto the step beside me. Her bare knee brushed mine, and I was all too aware of the heat that traveled up my thigh and settled between my legs.

Hazel was quiet beside me as we looked out onto the lawn and toward the beach in the distance. I tried not to stare at her long, bare legs as the wind rustled the leaves in the trees.

“Heavy day,” I finally said.

“Yeah.” Her humorless laugh made me smile. It was better than more tears.

“Look, I know today didn’t go how you had planned. Believe me—me neither—but in a few months it’ll all get worked out.”

She nodded. “I know. I just can’t help but feel like I’m failing her.”

I tilted my head toward her. “Your sister?”

Hazel’s elbows rested on her knees, and she twined her fingers out in front of her. “Yeah, Olive was always the strong one. So centered and sure of herself. She would do anything to get ahead, no matter what life threw at her. I didn’t even know she was sick.”

Jesus, that’s rough.

I hummed, hoping my vague acknowledgment kept her talking. I liked the sound of her voice in the darkness.

“We were close, even though I was traveling a lot. It was just the two of us growing up. Our mom was a single mom and she died several years ago . . . the same ovarian cancer that took Olive, ironically.”

“Fuck.” I wiped my hand over my mouth.

“Yeah . . . yay genetics!” Her joke landed flat in the darkness, and a heavy sadness rolled over her shoulders as she slumped. Hazel picked at her coral nail polish. “I found out that I have the same genetic mutation, which means I have to decide to risk the same fate or—” Hazel made a squelching sound and made a removal gesture from her belly outward. “No babies for me. Having kids wasn’t even on my radar, and now I feel like I have to make major, life-altering decisions.”

I fought the uncontrollable urge to wrap my arms around her and hold her. In the pale light, her vulnerability flickered, and I was a moth to the flame. My hand flexed to keep from giving in.

Between the two of us, there was no doubt in my mind who was better equipped to be a parent.

I had never had kids, but I saw the joy my sister Sylvie got from being a mother. I also deeply understood how the loss of choice was a tough pill to swallow. In the moonlight Hazel looked so young—too young to have to worry about things like cancer and infertility issues.

“That . . .” I fumbled to find the right words.

“Sucks,” she said.

We shared a sad laugh. “Yeah, it does. I’m sorry.” It was hard not to feel her sadness at having lost her mother and sister. When my mother was taken from me, I was only five, and I had very few actual memories of her. My entire childhood was tainted by my father insisting that she had abandoned us. That she didn’t love us enough to stay. I hadn’t mourned the loss of my mother—I’d hated her for it.

It hit me that Teddy wasn’t that much older when he lost his own mother, only he had Hazel to remind him how loved he was and who the person his mother was. Because of Hazel, he wouldn’t have to suffer like I had.

My voice was gravelly and thick. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Hazel sniffed. She pulled her hands under her chin, resting her face in them, and looked at me. “Even though I’m a witch?”

A sharp arrow pierced my heart. Me and my damn mouth.

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Even if you are a witch.”

She harrumphed, but smiled. For a beat we stared at each other. Temptation scratched my thoughts and a hit of possibilities looped in my brain.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

With a stifled yawn, Hazel stood, giving me a clear view of just how thin her pale-yellow nightgown was, and my jaw tightened.

The breeze shifted, molding the thin fabric to her body, clinging to the V between her legs. Beneath the fabric, I could just barely make out the outline of what looked like nipple piercings. My cock instantly sprang to life, perking up at that new, tempting detail. Every inch of me stiffened. The outline of her full breasts taunted me. My hands begged to feel their fullness.

Her exhale thrummed in her throat. “You know, when you’re not trying to be an uptight asshole, you’re really not so bad.”

I stood next to her. The front of her billowing pajamas tickled my bare chest, and I became acutely aware of the inches that separated us. Our mouths were close—too close. It had been an eternity since I’d kissed a woman, and I hated myself for even imagining what Hazel’s mouth would feel like on mine.

My eyes dipped to her lips, and I heard her quick inhale.

Fuck, she smells good.

It would be wrong—and so fucking complicated. Hazel had just poured her heart out to me and was likely feeling really vulnerable. Not to mention she was under the impression I’d gotten her sister pregnant. Her nephew called me Dad, for Christ’s sake.

My molars ground together as we stood for what felt like an eternity. As much as I wished I could be the type of man to lean in and take exactly what he wanted, I couldn’t. I needed to remain in control.

With clenched fists, I stepped back.

“Look, I—” When my eyes lifted to hers, she stepped forward and slammed her mouth to mine.

I stood in stunned silence for a fraction of a second before instinct took over. One hand fisted in her soft hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She opened for me, and a growl tore through my chest. I fisted her nightgown in my other hand as I pulled her body against mine. Her mouth was lush and soft.

My tongue swept over hers before she stepped back.

The abrupt end to our kiss had me blinking down at her. The back of her hand was pressed against her mouth and her eyes were wide and round with shock.

“Oh my god.” Hazel took two stumbling steps down the stairs and turned back to look up at me. “Oh my god.”

Her toes sank into the soft grass. Her fingertips pressed into her eye sockets. “I can’t believe I did that. I mean—sure, typical, impulsive Hazel, but—oh my god.”

“It’s fine.” My voice was rough and cracked on the last syllable. I cleared my throat and dragged a hand across the back of my neck.

Her cheeks were flaming pink, and I hated myself for loving how it looked on her. I wondered if her skin would flush the same pretty shade as I drove into her with my cock. Her nipples poked through the thin cotton of her nightgown, and I wanted more than anything to know if she was naked beneath it.

The muscles in her legs worked as she nearly sprinted back to the skoolie.

Rooted to the spot, I stared at her in the pale moonlight. “Don’t worry, Hazel,” I called to her. “You can go back to hating me tomorrow.”

At the base of the skoolie, she turned to look at me. Her eyes were dazed, but she hit me with a megawatt smile that was a punch to the chest. She lifted her hand in a wave and nodded. “Deal.”

I stayed on the porch steps and watched her climb into the bus. Her shadow moved across the large windows and disappeared toward the back of the vehicle. I scraped the bottom of my foot along the edge of the stair.

What the hell was that about?

I had no business kissing her. I wasn’t even attracted to her . . . right?

My dick twitched and I laughed at just how wrong I was.

I closed myself within the sanctuary of my house and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Inside my bedroom, I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. My cock was not getting the memo that Hazel Adams was strictly off-limits.

She was too young, too complicated, and altogether too tempting.

With a groan, I slid my hand down my bare stomach, dipping below the waistband of my sweats. My dick was so hard it practically begged me for a quick release. I eased my sweats down below my hips. My eyes shut as I wrapped my fist around my cock.

With a sharp exhale, I thought of her.

I relived the moment she shot forward, pressing her body and mouth against mine. Her kiss was still fresh on my tongue. Her soft hair floated around us, wafting sweet smells of citrus and spice. Her tight body had melded to mine, and for the briefest moment, she’d given in to whatever tension had been fraught between us.

As I worked my fist up and down, I imagined how it would feel to lay her down, spread her open, and drive into her. Sex had always been a means to an end for me, but something about Hazel told me it wouldn’t be the same. Like she would find a way to consume me as I devoured her.

I grunted and panted as I stroked myself. It jerked and pulsed in my hand, and I imagined shoving my cock into her and making her scream my name. My dick surged painfully against my hand, and I worked it, ping-ponging between images of stretching her open and slipping the shaft down her throat. I moaned and doubled my efforts, squeezing harder as I stroked.

If Hazel had just been some tourist on vacation, things would be different. We wouldn’t have remnants of the past hanging between us. No questions about paternity or guardianship or fake smiles covering old hurts.

No, if it were different, it would simply be her and me.

Maybe she wouldn’t mind when I took control or used filthy words to tell her exactly how I’d make her come. Maybe she’d beg for it. Maybe she’d match me stroke for stroke as she rode my cock and cried out for more. I jerked myself to the image of her perfect, pierced tits bouncing as we fucked. I came in quick, hot pulses at the thought of her riding me, slack-jawed and lost in the moment.

With my head against the bed, I exhaled. The quiet around me closed in and self-hatred was hot on its heels.

I cleaned up in the en suite bathroom without bothering to turn on the light. I didn’t need to see the prick in the mirror staring back at me. In my bedroom, I paused at the window and gently pushed the curtain aside to look down at the bus.

This was complicated.

A real problem.

I stared hard at the bus parked in my driveway. I wasn’t used to a problem I couldn’t find my way out of. I was about to turn when a small light at the back of the bus flicked on, then off again.

Shit. Could she see me?

I eased back into the shadows of my room when the light flicked on, then off again. Curious, I reached over to the lamp by my side. With a quick flick, I flashed it on, then off again.

Maybe it was ridiculous, but somehow it felt like it meant something. Like a silent reassurance that things might just work themselves out.

But who was I kidding? Things didn’t just magically work themselves out for men like me.

No, men like me were handed problems and expected to put in the work to figure shit out.

And I would.

But damn was I exhausted.

The next morning I remained a prisoner in my own house. Weekends for some meant days off work to rest or for weekend warriors to chip away at random house projects.

Not me.

For me, Saturdays were just another day, and oftentimes that meant working at the office while my siblings ran off and lived their lives.

They were starting families and falling in love.

I was stuck.

Noises from the front yard seeped into my awareness, and I slammed back the bitter remnants of my morning cup of coffee.

Forgoing a full suit, I’d dressed in dark slacks and a short-sleeved knit shirt. Despite jerking myself off to the image of Hazel—twice—I slept like shit and was still keyed up. The musical notes of her laughter floated through the open window, and I slammed it closed.

I’ll just turn the air conditioner back on.

With a frustrated growl, I grabbed my keys and sailed out the door. My steps came up short when I spotted another car in the drive. Teddy zipped past me with a squeal, a trail of bubbles floating behind him. Hot on his heels was Penny Sullivan. She was chasing him, but clearly giving the kid the advantage of slowing her run so he could escape.

I frowned, trying to work out why the hell she was in my yard.

“Morning!” a woman’s voice called to me, and I squinted in the sun.

Across the yard, Lark Sullivan was standing next to Hazel and waving.

I guess that explains Penny.

I offered a terse smile but didn’t return her greeting.

Next to the skoolie, Hazel was arranging two rectangular foam mats. A bottle of water was next to one. Rhythmic, undulating beats flowed from a wireless speaker next to the other mat.

I walked toward my car, refusing to make eye contact with Hazel for fear she’d somehow know the depraved thoughts I’d had about her since last night. When she walked into the skoolie without looking my way, I could breathe again.

“Hi, JP,” Lark called once more. “Hazel and I became friends at the beach.”

I nodded. “I see that.”

Lark smiled and smoothed a hand over her pregnant belly. “She’s going to show me some prenatal yoga moves. I hope it’s okay that Penny pals around the yard with Teddy while we stretch.”

I paused and leaned my forearm on the open door to my BMW. “Would you leave if I said it wasn’t?”

“No.” Her smile widened as her playful eyes twinkled. I had turned to get into my car when she stopped me. “I was telling Hazel that we’re having a party at the speakeasy. Sylvie will be there. You should come.”

I eyed Lark. She was always kind and impartial to the King–Sullivan feud despite being married to Wyatt. It was still a mind-fuck to remember that after years of disdain, our families were bonded by Duke and Sylvie’s marriage.

“I’ll think about it,” I lied.

No, the only thing I’d be thinking about is Hazel’s ass and how her tight black top was cropped too short. It was a sick hell knowing those matching bike shorts revealed that my imagination was nothing compared to the real thing.