Through His Eyes Page 7

  At first, he was charming and said all the right things. He made me feel like an equal. But all too soon, his attitude changed, and I learned too late my husband was a snake. He had me in a trance, mesmerized, and before I knew what was coming, he bit his poisonous fangs deep into my flesh, and I was fucked.

  I never want to be in that situation again. The problem is, how do I ever move forward if I’m too afraid to give another man a chance? In theory, the solution is easy. Open myself up and let Lachlan in. The reality, isn’t so black and white. I can’t afford to make those mistakes again. Especially now that I have Kinsley. If I’m wrong about Lachlan, I won’t be the only one hurt. It’s clear my daughter already cares about him.

  So that leaves me at a crossroad. Do I text him or not? The sexually deprived woman in me wants to text him and beg him to fuck me. I can just imagine the stamina that man has. When he was sweating on the soccer field, he lifted his shirt up, and I caught a glimpse of his six-pack of abs. He works out for sure.

  But the responsible, single mother, whose heart has been shattered into a million pieces by my husband is yelling at me to run, and run fast. No good can come from this—well, aside from some potentially mind-blowing sex. But then he’d need to see me naked…which is why, while I won’t admit it out loud, I’ve worked out at the gym every day this week. After seeing how fit Lachlan is, I can’t imagine what he would think if he saw me naked.

  Sighing heavily, I stare at my ice cream-covered spoon, recognizing I’m stress eating again. I haven’t felt this out of out of sorts in a long time. Putting the lid back on, I take it back into the kitchen. Damn Ben and Jerry and their delicious ice cream. Throwing the container back into the freezer, I slam the door shut. Sulking like…well, my five year old, I’m walking back to the living room, when the front door swings open and in walks Willow and Jax…and Lachlan.

  Willow and Jax don’t notice me standing here as they yell something about going out while running upstairs to change, but Lachlan does. With the front door still partially open, his gaze is glued on me. He’s dressed in his usual T-shirt, jeans, and Vans, but added to the mix is a black leather jacket. Of course he’s wearing a damn leather jacket. Because he wasn’t already hot enough without it. I also notice he’s not wearing a beanie, and I was right—his hair, messy and all over the place, is the same ginger color as his facial hair. It makes me want to run my fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

  While imagining running my fingers through his hair, my gaze lands on his bright green eyes which are widened almost comically, and I snap out of whatever lust-induced coma I’m currently in, looking around to see what has him in such shock. But when I follow his line of vision, it takes me to…well, me. And it’s then I wish the floor would crack open and swallow me whole. Because as I was standing here checking out Lachlan, I forgot I’m dressed in the shortest, tightest, pair of boy shorts, and a tiny cotton camisole. Yep, you heard me right. I’m standing here in my goddamn underwear! In my defense, I ran out of clothes, and they’re currently in the washer and dryer. Not that it will do me any good right this second.

  As if this moment couldn’t get any worse, I hear my brother and Willow descending the stairs, talking and laughing. My own brother is about to see me in my freaking underwear. Great! As if Lachlan can read my mind, his eyes briefly go to the stairs and then he’s pulling me by the curve of my hip behind him and against the wall to shield me from embarrassment. His hand stays holding on to my flesh as Willow and Jax enter the living room.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jax asks, confused as to why his friend is hiding his sister behind him. Lachlan’s so tall, that when I try to look over him, I fail, and instead have to look around him. He backs up slightly, and I’m sandwiched between his body and the wall. Without realizing what I’m doing, I slide my hands up his strong, muscular back to keep my balance, so I can peek around him. In response, his fingers tighten on my hip, and a soft moan escapes my lips before I can stop it.

  “I’m…uh…not dressed,” I say with a bit of an awkward laugh, fully aware I also sound slightly turned on and breathless. Remember those sparks I mentioned I’ve never felt? Well, holy fucking hell, I feel them with Lachlan, right now, between my legs. Willow cackles, and Jax fake-gags. Lachlan groans, and the way his body vibrates, sends heat flooding through mine. “Can one of you please grab me the throw blanket from the couch?”

  Thankfully, Willow snaps into action and hands me the blanket, which I wrap around my shoulders to cover my body up. Lachlan moves forward and turns to face me. I’m so embarrassed, I can’t even look him in the eyes. Nobody since Rick has seen me in such a vulnerable position.

  “Where’s Kinsley?” Jax asks, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Sleepover at Celeste’s with Olivia’s and Giselle’s daughters.” Olivia and Giselle are two of my sister-in-law’s best friends. Between the three of them, they have eight girls. It’s a running joke how Olivia and her husband, Nick, are the only ones with a son, Reed. When I got pregnant with Kinsley, the three of them were all pregnant at the same time. We took bets on who would be the one to have the second boy, but all four of us ending up having daughters. When Celeste mentioned having Kinsley over, she asked me to join, but there was no way I was passing up a night to myself.

  “You should join us,” Willow suggests, but I’m already shaking my head.

  “Oh, no. I’m too old and tired to keep up with you party animals,” I joke.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Willow laughs. “Well, don’t wait up.” She winks dramatically and pulls Jax behind her.

  “Night, sis!” Jax yells, following his girlfriend out the door, and leaving Lachlan and me alone.

  “You better get going before they leave you behind.” I nod toward the door with a small laugh.

  “You never texted me,” Lachlan says, changing the subject.

  “I thought about it,” I admit, which has him smiling, and in turn, has me smiling.

  “And what did you think about texting me?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug a shoulder, refusing to tell him about the fifty different texts I thought about sending.

  “I was thinking I could stay here…keep you company,” he says, his eyes wandering down my blanket-covered body. Worried that at any moment I might drop said blanket, I tighten the corners around me. The blanket knocks my loose bun out and several stands of hair fall into my eyes. With my hands full of the fabric, and not wanting to chance dropping the blanket, I attempt to blow the hair out of my face. Lachlan laughs and, stepping forward, tucks the wayward strands of hair behind my ear. The simple touch of his fingers brushing my flesh shouldn’t affect me the way it does.

  “So, what do you say?” he asks. “You up for company?”

  I shoot him an incredulous look. “Trust me, you don’t want to miss going out with your friends and possibly getting laid, just to lounge on the couch and watch a cheesy rom-com with me.”

  “Don’t tell me what I want,” he says, his tone serious. “I wouldn’t have suggested us hanging out if I didn’t want to.”

  “Hey Lach!” Jax yells from outside. “Quit hitting on my sister and let’s go!”

  I roll my eyes, and Lachlan coughs out a laugh. As I look at him, I already know I’m going to give in. I’ve been fighting it since the first day I met him, but my resolve has been slowly weakening each time I’m around him and he says and does all the right things—then again, so did Rick in the beginning. I push that thought from my mind. Rick doesn’t belong here with Lachlan and me. I’m so tired of allowing him, even dead, to rule my thoughts and decisions. It’s my life!

  Lachlan must mistake my silence for no because his smile drops, and he says in a defeated, very unlike Lachlan, tone, “All right, well, have a good night.” He shoots me a half-smile and is walking away before I even know what’s happening.

  “Wait!” I say, running to stop him. This seems to be becoming our thing: he asks, I say no, and then I chase him. Only th
is time I wasn’t going to say no. “Sorry, I was in my own head. If you want to stay and hang out, that’s fine.” Lachlan raises a single brow, and I cringe at how rude that sounded. “That came out wrong. I just meant if you really would rather hang out here instead of going out, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

  The corner of his mouth quirks up into a sexy smirk, and he nods once. “I’ll let Jax know I’m staying here while you go get dressed.” His eyes light up mischievously, then he adds, “Or you can stay just how you are.” He bites down on his bottom lip before turning to go outside. What I would give to have him biting down on my bottom lip.

  When he’s out the door, my body sags in relief. Holy hell, he is so freaking intense. Running up the stairs, I scour my room for a single clean article of clothing, but can’t find anything. Damn it! I really shouldn’t let my laundry pile up until I have nothing left. Uncertain of what the hell to do, I stand in my closet willing for something to appear. I have a couple dresses, but how stupid would I look walking down there dressed like I’m ready to go to church or work?

  Hearing the door shut, I know Lachlan is downstairs waiting for me. I open each of my drawers again, knowing I won’t find anything. My goodness, I seriously have a lot of laundry to do.

  Just then, I hear the dryer buzz, and thank the laundry gods above. Now I just need to get to the dryer, which is downstairs in the laundry room. Tiptoeing down the stairs, I pray Lachlan is in the kitchen, the only room you can’t see the stairs from. Of course he’s sitting on the couch and looks over at me as I descend.

  “Decided to keep what you have on?” he says with a smirk. “I approve.”

  “No.” I roll my eyes—I really need to break this habit. “I’m out of clothes, but I heard the dryer go off.”

  “Well, don’t feel like you have to get dressed on my account.”

  “I’ll be right back,” I mumble, running off to the laundry room. Thankfully, there’s a dry pair of sweats and a hoodie in there. I throw them on then head back into the living room with the blanket in my hands.

  “So, what are we watching?” Lachlan asks as I sit down on the other side of the couch. When he notices, he shakes his head but doesn’t say anything.

  I flip through the channels but can’t find anything to watch. “How can we have like two hundred channels and not a single movie is on?” I pout. “I told you, you should’ve went out.”

  Lachlan edges across the couch toward me, and I stand. If I let him get too close, there’ll be no turning back. “I need to rotate my laundry,” I blurt out awkwardly.

  Once I’m in the laundry room, I open the dryer and start folding and hanging up Kinsley’s and my clothes. If I thought doing laundry would be an excuse to give Lachlan and me some distance, I was wrong. He, of course, joins me, and catching on quickly, starts handing me the pants and shirts hangers whenever I need one.

  “I’m going to run these upstairs,” I say, having no idea how to handle having this guy in my home, being sweet and helpful. I’m so completely out of my element with him, it’s embarrassing. I haven’t the slightest clue why he’s even still here, when he could be out with his friends, getting his party on.

  “I’ll help you,” he offers, grabbing the clothes that are hung up, while I grab the ones that are folded. All three bedrooms are upstairs. We stop by my room first, and I’m surprised when Lachlan doesn’t comment on how girly my room is. It’s Skyla’s old room, and she was all about the pink. When I moved in I was too lazy to change the wall color.

  When we get to Kinsley’s room, though, he laughs. Her walls are half-black, made of chalkboard paint, and half bright green, with science posters covering them. “This is awesome.” He sets her clothes down on the bed and walks around, checking out her room while I put her clothes into their proper drawers. When I open her closet to hang up her clothes, Lachlan is right behind me.

  “Oh, man, she has all the classics,” he says, referring to her large stack of board games. He reaches over me and pulls one out. “Wanna play?” When I turn to look at him, I can see the evil glint in his eye. He’s up to something.

  “You want to play Candyland?” I’m not buying it for a second.

  “My cousin Declan and I are the only boys in the family, and we’re also the oldest. When we were younger, and our parents would make us play these boring games with his sisters and our other cousins, we would change up the rules to make it more fun.” He grins wickedly. “Because they were younger, they didn’t know we were making them up.” He cackles, and I can’t help the smile I’m currently sporting. Lachlan is so damn adorable and playful.

  “Like how?” I ask, wanting to know more.

  “Well, take this game for instance.” He holds up the board game. “We would tell them if they landed on red, they had to give us a piece of their candy.” He’s smiling so hard, even his eyes are twinkling. “If they landed on blue, they would have to do one of our chores.” He laughs, and the sound hits straight between the apex of my legs. Everything about Lachlan is sexy, even his laugh.

  “That’s so mean!” I say, but find myself laughing along with him.

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “But that’s part of growing up, right? I bet your brothers used to do shit like that to you.”

  “Nope,” I tell him honestly. “They’re a good six and seven years older than me and they treated me like a princess. They never would have done anything like that.”

  “Well, then you missed an important rite of passage,” Lachlan says, his tone serious, which has me laughing harder.

  “What a shame,” I reply, sarcasm dripping from every word.

  He looks down at the box that’s holding the game, then up at me. “Let’s play.”

  “I’m not falling for your chores rule,” I joke.

  “New rules.”

  “No way!” I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. “I can just imagine the shit you’d have me doing.”

  “C’mon, it will be fun! Live a little,” he taunts, and even though I don’t doubt whatever rules he’s about to make up will be dirty and leave me embarrassed, I suddenly want to play. He’s right, it’s time to live a little, have some fun. And then an idea forms. If I’m going to play his games, I need to even the playing field.

  “I get to make up the rules.”

  “We both do,” he volleys.

  “Fine.”

  Nine

  Lachlan

  When Jax mentioned going out tonight, I checked my phone, hoping maybe Quinn would finally send me a text since it’s the weekend, but when nothing was there, I agreed. After shutting down our stations for the night, he mentioned he and Willow needed to go home to change first, and that’s when I formed my plan. All I needed for it to work was for Quinn to be home. Granted, I assumed her daughter would be there. I figured I would convince her to let me hang out with them, maybe watch a movie or play a game. I’m not picky. Getting Quinn to open up hasn’t been easy, so I’ll take whatever I can get. If it wasn’t for the way I’ve caught her looking at me on several occasions, I wouldn’t believe I even stand a chance at this point. Most people would wonder why the hell I’m even bothering. Quinn was right. It would be easy for me to find a woman to hook up with, but that’s not the kind of guy I am. People assume because of the tattoos and piercings and the job description, I’m some bad boy looking for my next fuck. But that couldn’t be any further from the truth. And if it was, my mom would tan my ass.

  When we arrived at their place, Quinn’s car was in the driveaway, so I knew she was home. I walked through the front door, expecting to see her and Kinsley hanging out, so imagine my surprise when instead, I saw Quinn in nothing more than a tiny pair of black and white polka dotted underwear and a white tank top, so thin, I could see her perky nipples poking straight through the material. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I knew she was hot, but damn! My imagination didn’t even begin to do her justice. I’ve been with a few women over the years, but compared to Quinn, they all look
like little girls. Her thick hips, heavy tits, and shapely thighs are all damn woman, and I’ve never been so turned on in my life. And if that wasn’t enough, I was finally able to get a glimpse of her tattoos. And I was right…fuck, was I right. They cover parts of her upper arms, a little bit of her chest and collarbone, and span across her legs. I was too in shock at seeing her half-naked, I didn’t get a chance to really check them out, but I’m going to. I could see it in her eyes when I mentioned making up the rules—she knows what’s coming, and if she didn’t want it to, she would’ve refused to play.

  I set the game on the dining room table and open the lid. Pulling out the gameboard, I open it up and place it in the middle of us while Quinn organizes the cards into a neat stack and places them on the board. We pick out our colored gingerbread pawns—she picks purple, and I pick yellow—and then she excuses herself for a moment.

  When she comes back, she’s holding a skinny blue bottle that has blue and pink puffs on the front. “Is that cotton candy flavored vodka?” I ask, giving it a closer look.

  “I figured it was fitting.” She glances down at the board game with a small smirk, and I’m grinning on the inside because she’s finally letting loose. “I was thinking for the candy spots, we have to take a shot.”

  “I like it.” Maybe if she gets some alcohol in her, I can get her to open up more. “Okay, so the rules,” I say, sitting down in the chair. “We each pick two colors.”

  “I go first.” She sits at the square dining room table, diagonal from me. “I want pink and purple.”

  “Such a girl,” I joke. “I’ll take blue and red.”

  “Such a boy,” she mocks.

  “Yeah, yeah. Name your rules.”

  “If someone lands on pink, they have to answer a truth.”

  “So, I can ask you any question I want, and you have to be honest?” I clarify.

  “You too,” she says.

  “Got it.”

  “The purple spot…” She thinks for a minute, her perfectly manicured finger tapping on her chin. “You have to explain one of your tattoos.”