Chapter 30

JOEY

Inever thought I'd see the day when hand-feeding sunflower seeds to a pet skunk in someone's kitchen would be the most conventional activity on the docket. My mind is whirling after our midday chat in the Brooks family den.

By the time Denny and Luca left, the trio had added one more potential sabotage-slash-crime to the list, with Luca's suggestion that maybe his dad losing his job a couple years ago was all part of some scheme as well. He said his parents couldn't have made their mortgage payments without help from him and his sister.

I have no idea if any of their ideas hold water, but they're not ruling anything out in this absolutely insane clusterfuck. My parents' biggest drama in the last year has been trying to decide between taupe and beige paint for their bathroom walls. Lynn's family seems to live in some alternate universe where mobsters with Tommy guns lurk around corners and rogue real estate developers cut brake lines. I mean, my god. I was afraid I'd get bored while on the IL, but this is more action than game seven at the World Series.

Add all of that to Lynn's story about Carter bringing down two famous senators, and I'm ready for a nap.

"Why is he doing that?" I ask Lynn while I watch Mango stomp his feet on the wood floor of the hallway.

"Because my mama spoils him and wants more treats. It's his way of telling you off." She grins, surprising me at how calm she can be after the drama of the last couple hours.

We just watched Maude E. Christopher strut to her Lexus in a designer business suit before driving away with a satisfied smile on her lips. That's likely bad news, but you'd never know it from the way Lynn is chatting easily about her family pet.

And since there's nothing we can really do at the moment, I have a couple ideas of how we could pass the time before her evening shift at Blue Bigfoot. What? I'm a guy. This is what we do. "Want to give me the grand tour?"

Being the intelligent woman she is, Lynn sees right through my request and leans into me to place a quick kiss on my lips. And being the wise man I am, I made sure to buy condoms at a gas station on the way back into town. "Are you trying to seduce me under my mama's roof?" she asks against my lips.

I cup her jaw and deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue into her mouth for a deeper taste before drawing back. "That depends. Is it working?"

She boldly grazes her fingers over the denim covering my thigh and cups my half-hard cock through the material. "Seems to be." Her lips curve, and I'm ready to take this conversation horizontal.

Lynn doesn't resist when I ease her back onto the sofa. In fact, she parts her knees to allow me to rest in my favorite spot between her thighs. But as much as I want to fuck her brains out, I need to check in with her state of mind first. "You okay?"

Her immediate response is to furrow her brow, but she quickly understands my meaning, and her entire face softens. "I'm okay. We're used to a little drama around here."

"You didn't tell them about Larry," I remind her, making her scrunch her nose.

"Yeah. I probably should have, but I want to see if there's any connection between Guy Taylor and The Diamond Group before I say anything."

"You know you need to be careful, right?" When her eyes begin to narrow, I add, "What I mean is if this company has done one-tenth of what you guys are suspecting, they're not going to bat an eye at aiming all their firepower at a college student from Asheville. And you know it."

Her expression settles on half-amused. "You're worried about me."

"Absolutely." My nod is vehement. "And now that we're dating, you'd better reconcile that independent brain of yours with the idea that I'm going to give a shit about your state of well-being."

"Okay. I think I can do that." Her half smile grows to a wider, more amused one. "So, we're dating, huh?"

"You're damn right, we are," I say. And, since I'm done with this conversation for now, I close the distance between us and capture her lips with mine. The kiss goes from tender to needy in the blink of an eye, and I've got my hand up her shirt and my fingers teasing her nipple through her bra in seconds.

Lynn's back arches, and she lets out a mewling sound that goes right to my balls. I pinch her nipple in response, and she nearly bucks me off the sofa with her hips as her greedy little pussy comes begging for attention.

I release her lips to let my tongue trail down her throat while my fingers get busy unbuttoning her shorts. Her zipper is next, and then my fingers find home, burying themselves in her hot, slick channel. "Fuck," I groan while Lynn's head falls back and her eyes close. She is so fucking gorgeous right now, I wish I could take a picture. But I've got more important things to do. Namely, eat Lynn's pretty pussy.

To that end, I straighten and grasp the hem of her shorts with both hands, intent on ridding her of these impeding clothes.

"Lynnie? Are you home?" an unfamiliar feminine voice calls from the hallway, and when my eyes flash to Lynn's face, it's abject horror I see reflected there. Lynn's mother is about to walk in on me trying to bang her daughter.

Not exactly the introduction I hoped for.

I've never seen a single ballplayer move faster than Lynn as she untangles her legs from mine and springs off the sofa to come to a stop on the other side of the den, leaving me on my knees on the couch. She sends me wild, panicked eyes as she buttons her shorts and straightens her clothes. Without the benefit of a mirror, however, she misses the small detail of the wild cloud of tangled dark waves surrounding her face. Well, at least my dick is still in my pants.

I've just managed to resume a seated position on the couch cushion when an animated woman who looks to be in her fifties enters the room. "There you are," she says, and I immediately notice a resemblance between the woman and her daughter. They share the same nose and chin, along with similar frames. While Lynn's hair is dark and wavy, though, her mother's is lighter and curly, its untamed wildness bearing a striking resemblance to Lynn's hair right now in its ruffled state.

Sensing my presence, Mrs. Brooks turns, her lips parting in an open, friendly smile. "Well, hello. Who do we have here?"

Before either of us can respond, Mango comes tearing into the den at a sprint, practically leaping into his mistress's arms as she bends to intercept him. "Hello, my darling," she coos at the animal.

"Hey, Mama. This is Joey. Joey, this is my mom, Ginny Brooks."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Brooks," I say, standing from the couch and moving toward her with an outstretched hand.

"It's Ginny." She waves off my hand and pulls me into a half hug, one made a bit awkward by the skunk in her arms, as can occasionally happen to anyone. Thank God my hard-on deflated in all the panic, or this hug might be even more strange.

"How was work?" Lynn asks, still maintaining the distance between us, and I get the impression she's not eager to entertain questions about our relationship and why I'm in her mom's den.

Ginny takes a step back from me, petting Mango as the skunk purrs like a cat in her arms. "Fabulous," she gushes. "Lizzie has worked wonders with all the residents on their self-portraits. You'll have to come to the exhibit tomorrow and see. Everyone is just tickled pink." Ginny turns to me. "The senior center residents are trying to raise money to repair and resurface the swimming pool, so we're holding several fundraising events this summer. The first is an art exhibit and sale. You should come too, Joey."

Lynn looks like she's about to intervene, but Ginny's mention of the name Lizzie and the swimming pool has me connecting some dots I never expected to find here. "Are you talking about Elizabeth Wright?"

Two sets of eyes widen at my question, but Ginny is the one to answer. "Yes. Lizzie is our art instructor. Do you know her?"

My mouth spreads in a grin. Elizabeth was talking about the fundraiser for her volunteer gig the last time I saw her. "Her boyfriend is one of my closest friends."

Ginny's free hand clutches her chest. "I adore Gunner. That boy puts the butt in buttered biscuits."

"Oh my god, Mama!" Lynn protests, but I'm already laughing.

"He's does fairly well with female fans, I gotta give it to him."

"Mama, Joey doesn't want to hear about his bestie's rear end."

"Okay, okay." Mango starts to squirm, so Ginny sets him on the rug and turns for the kitchen. "Can I get you two something to eat or drink?"

"No thanks," Lynn responds in a forced sunny tone before mouthing, "I'm sorry," to me. I can only shake my head and keep grinning. Ginny is harmless. Lynn doesn't need to get worked up on my account.

But I realize I may have spoken too soon when the next words out of Ginny Brooks's mouth are, "You're probably parched after whatever it is you were doing to make my daughter's hair look like that."