Flutter: The Nash Brothers, Book Three Read online

  The new agreement fits into my life perfectly. I got to work my all-hours of the night schedule, do as I pleased with my days, answered to no one, and still got a fantastic few rounds of fucking in per week.

  Besides the blip in our schedule, that very first time, with her son’s sickness, Penelope didn’t miss a meet up and I didn’t have to pretend to care about her home life.

  So when I meet up with my brothers and their wives at the Goat for a drink on Saturday night, I’m surprised at two things. One, that my brother Fletcher came along for this night out, considering he rarely steps foot in his old drinking hole as a now sober man. And, that Penelope wasn’t cackling into her vodka martini after offending Lily with some sexual remark.

  Keaton, Presley, Bowen, Lily, and Fletcher all sit around one of the high-top tables, and I wave to Gerry behind the bar as I stroll into his establishment. It’s the only place to grab late-night alcohol in Fawn Hill, aside from the farm fields we used to drag kegs out to as teenagers.

  “Always the last one to arrive.” Bowen huffs in annoyance at me as I pull up a barstool.

  “I have to make a fashionably late entrance, or who else would you guys look to for the cool factor,” I jab back.

  Fletcher snorts, and I see he’s nursing a soda water with lime. “Out of the four of us, I’d say you’re the least cool. You live in your little virtual reality world all day with your Dr. Who theories and Call of Duty cheat codes.”

  “You wish you knew what I knew about video games. It’s why I always beat you.” I stick my tongue out at my twin like I’m five.

  I shout across the bar to Gerry that I’ll have a bottle of the local IPA on tap and he gives me his gruff gaze but nods.

  “Well, who made varsity first?” Fletcher spits back, his jesting smile letting me know he’s ready to verbally scrap all night.

  “Enough.” Presley rolls her eyes. “If I have to listen to one more victory tour by the Nash men, I’ll claw my ears off. We get it, you’re the pride of Fawn Hill.”

  “Who let her in here?” I ask, pointing at Keaton like he brought the traitor into our midst.

  “You’re just mad because she is more well-liked than you around here.” Lily smiles quietly, her fingers locked tightly in Bowen’s meaty grasp.

  “Oh, Lily with the burn! Gimme some.” Fletcher extends a fist out to her so she can bump it.

  Gerry sets my beer down in front of me, and I take a long, frothy pull from it. “Anyways, where is Fawn Hill’s gossip columnist?”

  The group pauses, a strange look collectively being thrown my way. Presley speaks first. “You mean Penelope?”

  “Yeah, that nosy leech always clinging on to you two.” I should have kept my damn mouth shut, but I was hoping for sex tonight.

  Honestly, it was half the reason I’d come here instead of holing up in my house for a hackathon mission with some dark web buddies. And the question had been itching since I walked in and saw her missing. Was she going to show up later? How come she wasn’t here? I shouldn’t have asked, but my damn brain wouldn’t shut off.

  “She’s at home with her boys,” Lily supplies.

  “Why? No one to reject you tonight? It won’t be as fun now that you can’t hurl unwanted advances at an innocent victim?” Bowen chuckles.

  “I would hardly call Penelope innocent.” Keaton’s smile is teasing, but affectionate for his longtime friend. “She’s been through a lot, but that woman is a warrior. Honestly, I think she enjoys his puppy dog antics.”

  “As if she’d ever seriously go for him.” Fletcher cackles as if the idea of us together is the funniest thing in the world.

  “I’m sitting right here, you assholes.” I glower at my brothers. “Whatever, I was just wondering. Usually seems like she holds court at this bar every weekend, regardless of her kids.”

  Presley nearly chokes on a sip of her gin and tonic. “Forrest! That was way out of line!”

  My brothers back her up with agreements of, “Bro, not cool,” “You’re a dick,” and “Watch your mouth.”

  It’s Lily whose eyes hold the most hurt and ice, though. “I’ll have you know that Penelope is a wonderful mother, who cares deeply for her children. As any single parent would probably need, although you’re not one so you can stop assuming, she requires a night off every once in a while. You know, with raising three boys on her own, she deserves a martini from time to time, and her family is more than willing to help take care of her children so she can relax for a few hours. You are a pig and a selfish man who says things without knowing or thinking. Frankly, I’m tired of it.”

  With that, my sister-in-law springs from the table, probably exhausted from her out of character outburst. Meanwhile, Bowen looks ready to murder me.

  “You will apologize to my wife. And quit being such an asshole.” He gets up to follow Lily.

  In my attempt to hide the nature of my relationship with Penelope, I not only insulted her parenting skills behind her back but now my family was mad at me, too. Fuck. When I step in it, I really step in it.

  “It was just a joke,” I say weakly.

  Even my enormous ego can realize that it should be deflated every so often. Presley and Keaton jump up to go assist with Lily, both shooting me reproachful looks as they leave.

  “Yeah, well, no one is laughing.” Fletcher gazes at me, all seriousness mirrored back at me on an almost identical face to mine. “What’s gotten into you lately?”

  I drain my beer bottle. “What the fuck does that mean? You get sober and all of a sudden, you’re the twin of reason?”

  Fletcher’s hands flex where he has them laced together on the tabletop. I’m still not used to this dimmed-down version of my brother. He was always the class clown, the guy you could count on for a good time with a side of danger. He was animated and reckless.

  But now, Fletcher reminds me so much of Dad, it’s scary. He seemed seasoned, weathered by life, and held such wisdom behind his eyes that I tried my best not to fully engage him. It felt as if my twin were more in tune with himself than ever before than even I was with my own mind and heart. Getting sober has allowed him to become a man, finally … something I still feel I haven’t fully achieved.

  And it makes me envious that I have no idea where to start.

  “You use humor as your weapon, and your brain as the axe that cuts us all in half. It’s your party trick, we get it. You’re not as socially skilled as the rest of us, even less than Bowen is which is saying a lot. But somewhere along the line, you lost your filter. The one that stops you before you go over the edge and really wound someone. I’m not sure what’s going on, brother, but when you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

  Then Fletcher rises, pushing in his chair before he follows the rest of my family out. They leave me alone with my empty beer, ruminating in the damage I’ve just done.

  I shouldn’t care, my life motto strictly goes against giving a shit when I’ve offended someone. Except … I never really thought my brothers would turn their backs, especially not for something so minor.

  As Gerry sets another beer down to replace my old one, an honest voice in the back of my head whispers what I already know.

  This wasn’t a little fuck up. I really hurt Lily, and Penelope in the process. Though, she doesn’t know that yet. Not that I have any doubt she’ll find out.

  14

  Penelope

  Over the course of the next two weeks, I work, take care of my boys, sleep when I can catch some, and nourish with whatever food I can shove in my mouth.

  And when I can fit it in, all puns intended, I let Forrest fuck me sideways.

  Our mutually beneficial agreement is going so well, I’m not sure why I didn’t enter into this with someone sooner. I get a bunch of great sex, no strings, no one I have to explain to my kids, and the freedom to live my life as a single woman. My mood improves with each meet up, and it’s not just because I’m getting regular orgasms.

  No, Forrest and I have an easy
banter to our encounters. We work well together in the sack, which is something that’s actually quite hard to come across in a partner.

  “Good job in there, kid.” I pat his leg, panting, as he flops onto his bed.

  “For someone who just gave you two orgasms, I think you can lay off the ‘kid’ nickname, yeah?” Forrest is out of breath but manages to shoot me an annoyed glare as we lie side by side.

  It’s only the second time I’ve come to his place, and it’s only because it’s a Friday night and Marion has the boys. Before I started hooking up with Forrest, I’d spend my kid-free weekend nights eating Swedish Fish in the bathtub with a glass of wine while I propped my phone up on the closed toilet as some trashy reality show streamed on it. Or I’d settle into bed extra early, burying myself beneath the sheets with an eighties romance movie … Mystic Pizza was a favorite.

  “Fine. I’ll give it a rest. But just for tonight. I have a rep to protect.” I smile, running my hands up and down my naked stomach.

  “One that involves basic things like guaranteed pumpkin spice lattes on the first day of fall?” Forrest props himself up on an elbow, smirking down at me.

  Christ, the man is gorgeous. When he takes off those Clark Kent spectacles before we go at it, my stomach always does this roller-coaster flip that makes my entire body feel as if it’s falling from twenty stories high. The nude length of his body is on full display, and my eyes digest him hungrily.

  “Are you ever not confident?” I ask, genuinely interested.

  Forrest shrugs, scratching his hand over the perfect smattering of a happy trail down his torso. “I figure, why not be proud of what you have if it’s this good?”

  And there he goes with that cocky mouth. “I’m serious, though. Do you just always feel that you’re the smartest one in the room? There must have been a time in your life when you felt less than?”

  Because if he hasn’t, I’ll just be more annoyed than I usually am at him. I think part of the reason he bugs me so much, when he’s not screwing my brains out, is that the man literally has no flaws. He walks through life not only acting like his shit don’t stink, but truly believing that it doesn’t.

  While I might put on a brave face, there are so many times where I falter behind the mask. Honestly, we all do … it’s just how much we admit that to others that makes us relatable.

  “Well, you’ve rejected me about twenty times that I can remember. The sting of that isn’t easy to feel over and over again.”

  I expect to see humor when I look up into Forrest’s eyes, but instead, all I find is a stoic expression. And it dawns on me, how much I must have affected his heart and mind as a teenager. While I was falling in love, going to dances, living my rebellious high school years … I’d simply regarded Keaton’s little brother as a child nuisance. A little boy who embarrassed me by bringing me dandelions or writing me notes that his brothers would pass along.

  He had probably been devastated, while I laughed about it with my girlfriends at sleepovers.

  “Ugh, I don’t want to get up,” I say, changing the mood from deep to surface level again in the flop of my body on the mattress.

  “Doesn’t your mother-in-law have the kids tonight? You could stay … it’s late,” Forrest suggests.

  I pretend not to hear the tiny note of plea in his voice. Because … I’m probably just imagining it. There is no way he actually wants me to stay.

  “Shouldn’t we have a rule against that? Or like a whole code of conduct?” I tilt my head to the side, not getting out of bed but not scooting back over to him either.

  Forrest shrugs. “I usually break whatever rules people try to box me in with. I say fuck it, do what you want.”

  He is right; it is late. And I don’t have to rush home to the kids. But … this isn’t a relationship. In a relationship, you stay the night because you can’t bear being away from the person. You want to share their bed, to make memories and talk until the morning sun peeks through the curtains. Then you’d fall asleep and wake up at noon only to make pancakes in your underwear.

  This isn’t that. This was born of convenience, and I had my preferred queen-size across town that I could have all to myself.

  “P, it’s not that serious. If you want to stay, stay. I’ll probably throw in another orgasm if you choose that route. If you want to go home and do whatever weird shit it is that women do when they have a night alone, go do that.”

  I chew on my lip, weighing all the issues here. What will this look like if I sleep over? Did I park my car far enough around the corner for no one to notice? Will anyone come calling at my house to discover I’m not there? After Forrest’s confession, is it smart to stay?

  Even though I should haul myself up, put my clothes on, and walk through the dark streets to my car, something in me desperately wants to stay. To sleep next to a warm body, a man’s body.

  And if I reach down to the bottom of my heart, I want that man to be Forrest.

  “Well, no one can know about this. Okay? I’ll have to be gone before dawn, but … I’m so comfortable right now. Damn your Tempur-Pedic, it puts my pillow top to shame.”

  It really did, I hated him for having such a cloud-like bed.

  “I know, I know, no one can ever know about any of this.” He rolls his eyes, getting up and walking into the bathroom.

  He should be … happy that I’m staying. Or maybe amused. Whatever I wanted him to be, Forrest gives me the frustrating reaction of absolutely not reacting.

  When I hear the faucet turn on, I take the initiative to dive under the covers, loving the cool microfiber of his sheets on my bare skin.

  What would happen if anyone found out about this? Imagining what Lily and Presley would say makes my insides twist, and not in a good way. They’d be in hysterics, or worse, ask me if I was fucking nuts. The town would be awhirl with gossip about us, and about me. Many in this town knew and loved Travis, they grieved with us when he died.

  What would they say if they knew I was shacking up with one-half of the youngest Nash siblings? It was a pity that I actually cared … but I did.

  “Are you done sulking?” I ask him as he comes out of the bathroom.

  Forrest’s smug grin is back in its rightful place. “Only if you blow me before bedtime. Then I’ll be happy as a clam.”

  “Suck your own dick, I’m tired.” I roll over, facing away from his side of the bed.

  “I’ve tried, it never quite works,” he admits, sliding under the covers next to me.

  That has me flipping quickly back over. “Twenty bucks if you try it in front of me.”

  Because I can’t not try to convince him to do this. It’s too hilarious just thinking about it.

  “Why would I do that when you have a perfectly good set of lips?” he taunts.

  I giggle and realize I’ve missed pillow talk. “You’re almost as shamefully dirty as I am.”

  “I’ll wear that proudly. Now, since you’re sleeping over, we have a lot of hours in which to occupy ourselves. So, sex or sleep?”

  “Sex. Definitely sex.”

  15

  Forrest

  The scent of Penelope’s shampoo lingers on my pillows days after she leaves.

  At first, I consider washing them. The fruity smell is driving me mad because my cock keeps thinking she’s near and hardening at the first whiff. But then I decide to keep it until it fades, which is probably more pitiful than anything I’ve ever done regarding Penelope Briggs.

  Not that I feel anything toward her … no.

  I shake my head before that trail takes me to the deepest part of my thoughts and keep clicking through the screen I’m on.

  “Where are you, you son of a bitch?” I mutter to myself.

  For once, I’ve put a pause on scheduling anything with anyone, including Penelope, so that I can go on one of my week-long hack binges. My brothers call them my lost days, where I can go without food or water for extended periods, just trapped in my own interweb maze.

&n
bsp; But it’s necessary if I’m going to crack this case. Kline is on my ass, considering I discovered another two business accounts the prick has hacked into four towns over. And I should be able to catch whoever it is … I am the best. But this person is good too, covering their tracks, using decent technology to switch IP addresses and destroying the trails in which they used to break into the systems.

  It was both pissing me off and fueling me to go even more full throttle into forensic detective mode. As if I weren’t completely obsessive and compulsive about my job or my craft.

  By the time the banging on my front door actually registers, I’m sure the person has been out there knocking for a while. Because I look up, confused about the time of day, or even what day it is. It’s felt like years since I bent my head to the screen and began my deep dive through back channels and the networks in this county to chase our cyber thief.

  My legs are wobbly as I stand, probably from lack of food and too much adrenaline. I reach the front door and swing it open, completely unprepared for the onslaught of aggressiveness that comes flying my way.

  “Forrest Nash, you’re a fucking piece of shit! I can’t believe I slept with you without even knowing what you did!”

  And speaking of completely unprepared, I’m blindsided by the thwack of Penelope’s palm across my cheek. The sound of the slap reverberates in my entryway, and I cry out from the surprising sting of it.

  “What the fuck! Are you crazy?” I yell, holding my cheek as I gape at this madwoman who’s invaded my hookup buddy’s body.

  “You want to talk shit about me in town to throw off any scent that we’re friends who fuck? That’s fine. But don’t talk about my kids. You have no right, you have no idea what my life is like. I’m a warm body to you, that’s all. But what you might have failed to realize is that you’re just a hard cock to me. I could get the same pleasure from a vibrator and wouldn’t have to return the favor. So the next time you decide to run your mouth about my parenting style, go ahead and shove it.”