Cohen

 

“Co, I think you better go rescue Ez,” my brother Jax says, appearing at my side.

My head jerks back before I turn toward him. “Why?” My eyes scan our parents’ backyard, which is full of family and friends here to celebrate the vow renewal of another of my brothers, Bryant, and his wife, Faith.

Then I spot our honorary brother, Ezra, and suddenly Jax makes sense. That’s because my EMT partner and partner-in-crime, Skye, is all over him like white on rice. Her hands look rather ‘friendly,’ like the hands of someone who has been drinking steadily for the past few hours, despite having never said anything more than hi to the guy in the past year she’s been in our lives.

I chuckle and down the rest of my water, having switched from beer as soon as I realized Skye was going to need a chaperone.

Who knows if it’s a wedding thing or the allure of an open bar that was too much of a temptation? Drunk Skye is always a laugh, and we’re rarely off-duty and able to let loose. With that in mind, I figured it would be entertaining to let her do her thing, knowing whatever happens, I’d be close if she got herself into trouble. Looks like I might’ve underestimated her propensity for getting into mischief.

I move around the edge of the makeshift dance floor and across the grass. Ezra spots me and sends me a look of ’save me now’ just as I notice one of Skye’s hands moving down his chest, destination ‘never gonna happen.’ Ezra falls for women far too easily, but he usually goes for models and women far too high-maintenance for my taste—and his wallet if his two divorces are anything to go by.

I purse my lips and whistle just like Skye and I do to each other at work, instantly grabbing her attention. She looks over her shoulder, her lips curving into a huge smile when she sees me. She spins around, almost overdoing it as she teeters on one foot, Ezra seemingly all but forgotten.

She skips over to me and jumps up, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips. I lock my knees to stop both of us from falling to the ground, but her momentum is too much. In the blink of an eye, I’m falling backward onto the grass, taking Skye with me, earning myself an unfortunate knee to the balls.

She rolls to my side, still all over me as I turn into the fetal position, my eyes watering, and my teeth ground tight as a low grunt of pain escapes me.

I look up to the black night sky, a deep, burning ache now making itself home where my testicles used to be. Skye burrows into my chest, snorting and giggling like a loopy loon. One by one, like a bunch of nosy meerkats, my brothers’ heads all appear in my line of sight.

“Now that is what I call taking one for the team,” Ez says, his lips curved up.

“How’s the junk, Co? You want me to call it in and get a bus around here to check you’ve still got at least one nut left?” Jax asks, making Bry laugh with him.

“He can be called ‘Balls-no-more Spice.’”

“Still better than your wives carrying yours in their handbags,” I squeak, wiggling my toes to try and get the blood circulating again.

Ez grins. “Not mine.”

“Nah, they’re equally split between your exes and your divorce lawyer,” Jamie says with a shit-eating smirk.

“Touché,” Ez replies. “I’m still better off than this little shit though.” He holds out an arm and grabs hold of my wrist. I mirror his grip, and when Bry and Jax help lift Skye off me, I let Ez pull me up, so I’m at least sitting on my ass.

“Uh, Co. Looks like Ez isn’t the only one who’s going to need your help tonight,” Jamie announces just as a soft snore comes from my right. I don’t even need to turn my head to know who it’s coming from.

I let out a loud resigned sigh before looking back up at my oldest and most responsible brother. “Can I leave her here? I’ll give her a blanket and pillow and make sure she’s still alive in the morning.”

Jamie snorts and shakes his head. “Nope, but we can either carry her up to your bed, and you can set up a bucket, a towel, water, and painkillers, or we can help you get her into your car so you can take her home.”

I look back down at her sleeping face that’s somehow cute and innocent, even if her mouth is open, her tongue is sticking out a little, and I swear she’s drooling too. After I hold my hands up to Jax and Bry, they pull me to my feet, and I gingerly move around, arching my neck from side to side and cracking my back once I’m upright. I even carefully adjust myself and check that I’m still intact down below, earning a few smirks and laughs from my obviously sympathetic brothers. Assholes.

“I’ll have to stay with her and make sure she doesn’t aspirate,” I say, resigning myself to a night on Skye’s uncomfortable, not-designed-to-be-slept-on couch. “So if someone can help me get her into my car, then I’ll take her home.”

Bry quirks his brow. “You all good to drive?”

“Since I had a feeling Skye was in the mood to let loose today, I stopped drinking a few hours ago, and even then, I’d only had two beers in four hours, plus a shit-ton of food. I’m good,” I say with a chin-lift.

“You want to go get changed then, and we’ll wait for you,” Jamie says, proving he’s the wise one. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve crashed out in a dress shirt and slacks, but when given a choice, I’d rather be comfortable.

“Okay. Maybe sit her up and get some water in her,” I say, looking back down at a still-snoring Skye, Jax now on the ground beside her, his leg acting as her pillow. Ronnie, April, and Faith move our way.

“Maybe someone should get a towel and a bucket too, for the car ride,” Ez adds. “Vomit is a bitch to get out of the upholstery.”

Fuck, I hope she doesn’t spew in my Camaro. That car is my baby; 1967, black, my most treasured possession for more than ten years. I’ve kicked many others out on their asses for less than soiling my leather seats.

Ronnie sits on the grass next to Jax, her head resting on his shoulder. My eyes drift to Bry and Faith, who are nearly fucking with their clothes on beside them.

“God, maybe I’m the one who’s gonna throw up,” I mutter at the disgustingly gushy sight in front of me.

“Get a room,” I mutter, hearing Jamie and Ez chuckle.

Jax grins. “I might just do that. Maybe we’ll use yours since you won’t be in it tonight.”

My back goes ramrod straight, and I narrow my eyes. “You fuck in my bed, Jax, and I’ll dish the dirt to Mom.”

“You’ve got nothing,” he says. “I’m a grown-ass man. There’s nothing Mom can do.”

I smirk. “Oh, there are plenty of things I’m sure Mom would love to know about your colorful past.”

He glares at me. “You’re so full of shit.”

I shrug. “Try me.”

“Well, this is fun and all, but we’ve got a passed-out Skye to deal with, and I’ve got a wedding night to enjoy,” Bry remarks.

“You guys have been married for months,” Ez says.

“Yeah,” Bry says, looking down at a soft-eyed, blissed-out Faith. “But I missed our first wedding night; there’s no fucking way I’m missing this one. Besides, we have a whole house to christen.”

Faith laughs, burrowing in closer to her husband. “We’ve already done that.”

“We have, babycakes, but that was before it was our house. Now we have to do it all over again.”

Ezra rolls his eyes. “On that image, I’m gonna go. Give me your keys, Co. I’ll go sort the car out for you.”

I pull them out of my pocket and hand them over.

“We’ll get Skye awake and mobile,” April says softly.

I nod and walk around the circle of brothers and their wives until I’m in front of Faith. I pull her in for a hug, truly happy for the two of them. Stepping back, I give Bry a slap on the shoulder. “Congratulations. We’ll catch up soon. It’s about time I kicked your ass at golf again,” I say with a grin because Faith is the only one who’s beaten me in years. She let it slip a few weeks ago that she would go to a driving range in Sydney and whack balls for hours whenever she was homesick. Good for her—not so good for my unbeaten record against everyone else in my family.

Being the youngest of five, I cherish any chance to come out on top. Our regular trip to the driving range gives me that opportunity.

Skye groans, grabbing my attention. Right, time to get my way-past-happy-drunk best friend home to bed. “Right. I’ll be back,” I say, giving a short wave over my head as I walk across the yard and up the stairs to go inside.

Mom and Mrs. Baker—Faith’s mom and our next door neighbor—sit on stools at the kitchen island, snifters of brandy in their hands.

“Hey, baby, everything okay?” Mom asks.

I walk over to her, bending down to give her and Mrs. Baker kisses on their cheeks. “I’m good, but Skye’s not.”

Mom gasps. “Is she sick?”

“She will be in the morning,” I reply with a laugh.

“Oh. I hope you’re taking her to bed then.”

My eyes bug out of my head, and a giggle escapes Mrs. Baker’s lips.

“Goodness, I didn’t mean that.” Mom shakes her head. “Although Skye is a lovely girl. She talks a lot, but you need a woman who’ll keep you on your toes.”

“I’ve got more than enough of those in this family alone,” I muse.

Mom’s gaze narrows, her finger pointed my way. “You know what I mean, Co. You’re a catch. You deserve to find the same happiness as your brothers and sister.”

I lean in and press a kiss to the top of my mother’s head. “I’m happy, Mom. I promise.”

She reaches out and gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “I know, baby. Just keep an open mind, okay?”

“Yeah, Mom. But Skye is my friend and partner. We’re strictly platonic.” I turn to Mrs. Baker. “Do you give Ezra this much grief?”

“My Ezra is a good man; he just has terrible taste in women and falls too quickly. There will be a woman who’s perfect for him out there somewhere. I’m happy to wait as long as he is.”

There’s a twinkle in Mrs. Baker’s eyes. She exchanges a look with Mom, but thankfully, neither of them says anything else. Used to their unspoken secret conversations, I know not to ask, especially if I want to get out of here anytime soon.

I walk over to the refrigerator and open the door, pulling out a bottle of water I’d stashed in there for work tomorrow night.

“I’m going to take Skye home and crash on her couch, just to keep an eye on her.”

There’s a happy sigh from both the moms.

“You’re a good boy, Cohen Patrick Cook,” Mom says.

I close the fridge door, brow arched when I turn back to my mom. “Full-naming? Really?”

“I love your name,” she replies.

“And I love you, but I also know you’re a goof.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Always have been, always will be, son. And you know what they say.”

“What’s that?” I reply.

“That you marry a woman like your mom.” That sets them off, both women leaning into each other and giggling like drunk school girls.

“And on that note, I’m going to get changed and get Skye home. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I have to come home to get my uniform anyway.”

Mom shoots me a soft smile. “Okay, baby. Drive safe.”

I move to the door leading to the stairs. “Always. Bye, Mrs. Baker. Love ya, Ma.”

“Not as much as I love you,” she replies, the same way she always does. I give them a wave then head up to my room, making short work of getting changed into a pair of sweat pants, a tee, and a hoodie. After grabbing my phone charger and toothbrush, I go back downstairs and out the front door, finding my car running and Jamie and Ezra helping a bleary-eyed, giggling Skye into the passenger seat with a bucket placed in her lap.

Jamie shuts her in as Ezra meets me by the front wheel.

“She’s awake and rambling and giggly as shit.” He glances over his shoulder to look at her. “She’s a cute drunk.”

I narrow my eyes at him, a weird feeling coming over me, similar to how I felt when I saw Skye hanging off him in the backyard.

Ez puts his hands up. “No, Co. Don’t mistake that for interest. There’s cute, and there’s cute, and Skye may be a cute drunk, but she’s far too young and far too corruptible for a man like me. Besides, I’d never cut your grass. You know that,” he growls.

That strange tightness in my chest subsides. “I know.”

“The look you shot me across the yard says otherwise, Co,” he says, pinning me with his stare. “But a word of advice: that girl doesn’t scream ‘casual’ like you do. So if you make that move, make sure you’re both on the same page, yeah?”

I nod, the right words escaping me. What am I supposed to say? I didn’t see her as anything other than just Skye until twenty minutes ago. Gorgeous? Knew that. Funny? Clocked that. An ass I’d love to tap? That’s new.

His eyes are full of understanding when his lips quirk up. He reaches out and shoves my shoulder. “Drive safe.”

“Always do.” I round the car and hop in, revving the motor once before checking on my dozing friend. As if sensing my gaze, she rolls her head my way.

“Hey, Co,” she slurs. She reaches out her hand and taps the end of my nose. “You’re cute when you’re all huffy.”

My brows lift. “Huffy, huh?”

“Yup,” she says, accentuating the P with a pop of her full lips. “Where we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

Her smile turns wicked. “Oh, yeah. You think you got a shot with me?” She waggles her brows—or tries to—before erupting into a fit of giggles.

Warning. Warning. Enter conversation with caution.

I chuckle and shake my head before shifting the car into reverse, hooking my arm behind her seat and pulling out of the driveway.

Not even five minutes later, a soft snore sounds from the seat beside me, and I know without looking that she’s out for the count again.

I stop at an intersection and glance sideways to see her eyes closed and her mouth open, a tendril of hair having fallen across her face.

Without thinking, I reach out and run it back behind her ear, smiling when she leans into my hand.

It’s not until the next morning when I wake up on Skye’s couch that I realize I might be in trouble.

A whole damn lot of it, because my cock doesn’t care if it’s a whole pile of complication cuddling up to me. He’s not one to differentiate when the particular spanner in the works is blonde, hot, and gorgeous with a body that would bring the strongest-willed man to his knees.

Maybe trouble isn’t the right word for my predicament because I have absolutely no room to shift away. Skye’s about to feel everything God endowed me with.

Houston, we might have a problem because somehow—and soon—things are about to get very awkward.