Things were back on track. Not completely, but mostly. For Linc, at least.
Yeah, Emmett was still in town, but Eva was staying at the cabin—and in his bed.
For that reason alone, Linc was starting to think he might not mind if Emmett never left her apartment. Although his brother might not agree. Poppy was still sleeping at the hotel and keeping poor Ethan on ice.
Then there was that other situation. That damn will. But it was hard to remember all the problems caused by Emmett being back when Eva was beneath him.
He was becoming addicted to Eva’s orgasms. They were like a drug. He couldn’t get enough. Especially when he was inside her at the time.
They’d had sex so many times since she’d moved in two days ago, she finally had to admit to him that she was getting sore.
He couldn’t deny that knowledge had made him swell up like a damned proud peacock.
Knowing she was hurting had put a bit of a damper on his sexual plans to repeat the fun of the past two days. But he was a problem solver.
They’d simply had to get a little more creative with their fun before he’d left for chores this afternoon. He didn’t mind having to mix things up. Not at all. And tonight, he had plans to push things even further in that department and see where they went.
Damn. He shoved that image away before he got hard in the middle of Rosie’s.
Now was not the time or the place for fantasies about having amazing sex with Eva. Now was the time for Christmas thoughts. Sweet, innocent, wholesome, family oriented merry joyful thoughts because he, Ethan and Wyatt were in town getting supplies for tonight’s festivities.
Christmas cookie night was technically Wyatt’s duty, but since his brother’s partner was bedridden, they’d volunteered to help him out. So they were picking up a batch of undecorated cookies and icing and God only knew what else from Rosie.
Instead of attempting baking, Wyatt was taking the easy way out and no one could blame him. This year’s Christmas challenge had more than a couple of obstacles thrown in to make it even more challenging than usual.
Besides, it was being together in the kitchen with the holiday tunes streaming while licking icing off their fingers as they decorated that made the evening. Not who baked the cookies. Linc had a feeling they’d all be grateful it was Rosie’s expertise that provided the cookies and not Wyatt’s crappy skills.
As they waited at the counter for Rosie to bag up the supplies, Ethan stared at Linc. “What’s up with you?”
“What do you mean?” Linc frowned.
“You’re dancing around like you’ve got ants in your pants.”
A few moments ago Linc would have worried about what might have been going on in his pants because of thoughts of Eva, but visions of cookies had taken over his mind since and the situation down there was copasetic—except that his pants wouldn’t stay up. He realized he’d been tugging them up repeatedly every time he felt them slip down.
He scowled. “My damn pants keep falling off. I couldn’t find my good belt and I didn’t want to wear my barn belt with these pants for the cookie party.”
Ethan let out a snort. “You sound like Poppy with all her fashion rules. You’re so worried about what you look like that now you’re going to be uncomfortable all night.”
“I didn’t think it would be this uncomfortable.” He gave his good jeans another tug and sighed. “I don’t know where the hell it went. I mean, how could I lose it?”
“Lose what?” Rosie asked as she came around and handed the bag to Ethan, whose hands weren’t currently occupied with holding his pants up since he had a belt.
“My belt,” Linc answered.
“Which one you talking about? That nice dark brown leather one with the US flag behind the eagle on the buckle?” Ethan asked.
“Yup.”
Rosie’s brows rose. “Emmett was wearing one just like that when he came in today.”
Son of a—
He let out a string of words not appropriate for a family restaurant before he could stop himself and say, “Sorry, Rosie.”
“No worries. It’s nothing compared to how Billy cusses when he’s working at the garage.” Waving off his apology, she made her way back around the counter and into the kitchen.
“What’s with all the cussing?” Wyatt asked. He’d walked in the door in just enough time to hear Linc’s outburst.
“Emmett stole my good belt when he was staying at my place.”
Ethan turned to their older brother. “See? What kind of bull shit is that? Linc opens his home to him and he steals from him.”
“Maybe he just borrowed it,” Wyatt suggested.
“Without asking,” Linc added.
Ethan shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s up with you. How can you not hate him?”
“I try not to hate anyone.” Wyatt was proving to be even more of a bleeding heart than Linc thought him capable of.
Ethan gestured wildly, throwing his hands up in the air. “Okay, fine. So don’t hate him. Peace, love and good will towards men and all that happy horseshit. But how can you…” Ethan glanced around, then leaned in, “…want to give him half of everything our family has worked generations to build?”
“Because maybe if he had been given the same opportunities as we were growing up, the same head start in life, he would have been different,” Wyatt explained, also keeping his voice low.
Linc wasn’t sure they should be having this conversation at all. They were in Emmett’s stomping ground now. He lived right upstairs. Who knew where he was lurking.
Deciding what to do with the will by a family vote would be a moot point if Emmett heard them talking and decided to get a lawyer.
Meanwhile, Ethan wasn’t ready to let the subject drop. “Well that’s very generous of you, but I think it’s a little late for him.”
Wyatt shook his head. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what can turn a man’s life around.”
Since Ethan had the cookies and Wyatt had the bag from the grocery store containing the things he’d been tasked with picking up for tonight, Linc decided to take matters into his own hands. “Can we please move this debate to the truck?”
Thank God they listened, but Ethan was barely out the door before he started up again. “I like to think of John T’s—”
“Shh! Dammit. Wait a damn second, will ya?” Glancing over his shoulder at the stairs to the apartment to make sure Emmett wasn’t outside, Linc flung open the doors of the truck. “Now for the love of God, please get in.”
Ethan huffed his way into the back seat as Wyatt took the driver’s seat. Linc trotted around the hood to take the front passenger seat, but only after he yanked his pants up one more time and silently cursed Emmett.
He didn’t breathe freely again until all the doors were closed and they were in relative privacy.
“Now you may proceed,” he told Ethan, not that he really wanted him to.
“As I was saying, John T. wanted to make sure his second wife and her son were taken care of. And they were. Even though this new will wasn’t the one the law honored at the time of his death, as far as we’ve found John S. let Dora live in the house until the day she died. And he put her son through college and gave him a job in the family business. That side of the family was afforded the same opportunities as our side. What they did with them was up to them.”
It was a sound argument. Coming from Ethan, that was a bit of a surprise. But Linc had to agree with what he’d said. The spirit of John T’s intentions were honored. His family was cared for back then, like he’d wanted. That will said nothing about giving half of everything to a dirty rotten belt thief a century later.
Linc shot a sideways glance at Wyatt and asked, “No comment? What are you thinking?”
“That we need to table this topic for tonight and give my daughter the best cookie night ever.”
That’s what Wyatt had said, but Linc could swear he felt, even if he didn’t hear, the unspoken words still hanging in the air… in case this was their last Christmas in the house.
That fucked up thought sure put a damper on his previously merry mood.
As down as Linc was feeling after being trapped in a vehicle with the pissed off Ethan and the pious Wyatt, that’s how up Eva was in comparison. He walked into his family’s living room and found her humming a Christmas tune while spiking her cup of eggnog with some of Wyatt’s bourbon.
“Got more of that for me?” he asked, in great need of it. He loved seeing her happy. He’d love even more to feel as happy as she looked right now.
She turned and smiled. Damn, did his knees just go weak when she looked at him?
“There’s plenty,” she said. “What kind of heathen could drink eggnog without bourbon in it?”
He bobbed his head, walking closer. “The kind who drinks it with spiced rum instead?”
She raised her glass to him in a toast. “Also an acceptable option.”
“What put you in such a good mood?” he asked close enough to kiss her but restraining himself.
He knew better than to try even a peck hello. Public displays of affection were not Eva’s thing. And in her mind, his family’s living room would qualify as public.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Must be the anticipation of all those cookies.”
He didn’t believe that for a moment. Maybe she’d performed a particularly successful hacking or something. Not that he really believed that was what she did for a living… At least he mostly didn’t believe it.
Maybe this wasn’t her first eggnog and he had some catching up to do. She poured and handed him a glass and he got started on that catch up right away. But he did keep an eye on Eva and her overly good and very suspicious mood.
Her bad moods he was used to. But this good mood was proving very disconcerting.