Home > Loose Ends, Volume One (Loose Ends #1)(2)

Loose Ends, Volume One (Loose Ends #1)(2)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Barf,” Sam muttered, but Cal tossed a smile and a wink at his girl because she was teasing.

But she spoke truth.

She was sheer perfection.

After his boys took off, Cal went to his girl to bend and give her a kiss on the top of her head, earning her sunny smile that he could swear to fuck made the earth go around, before he walked through the living room then the den to the master.

He opened the door and found his wife flat on her back on the bed, calves over the side like she’d turned her back to it and plopped down.

And yeah.

He instantly wanted to fuck her.

He’d never been with a woman as long as he had with Vi. He didn’t think about it, but if he had, he would have figured, naturally, shit would settle and it would be about grocery runs and oil changes and occasional bickering with some fights thrown in and a lot of TV watching.

It was about that. With a lot of bickering and some huge-ass, knock-down, drag-out fights, and not the ones his boys had.

It was also about a lot of laughter, quiet golden moments, silken moments of utter pride, and a shit ton of sex.

In other words, he was living the life.

He kinda knew he’d get that the minute he laid eyes on her.

He fought it, but he still knew.

Thank God he quit fighting.

“Did they kill each other?” she asked the ceiling.

“No,” he answered the underside of her chin, making his way to her.

“Then why did you stop them?”

He chuckled, put a knee in the bed by her thigh, climbed in and straddled her body on hands and knees, dipping down so they were face to face.

Christ, she was beautiful.

“I heard you. You made them stop by shouting, ‘yo’,” she pointed out.

“They’re nine and eleven, but they’re already fluent in speaking man,” he explained.

Her face cracked but she didn’t let the laughter loose.

“I had girls down,” she declared. “Kate and Keira are treasures. Angie came, and she’s aptly named. She’s an angel. I was certain I’d perfected the art of creating exceptional children. And then along came Sam and Ben.”

“They’re aptly named too. Your brother and my cousin were not choirboys.”

“We should have named them Michael and Gabriel.”

“I figure we got better than if we’d named them Diablo and Beelzebub.”

Another lip quirk from his wife before she observed, “They haven’t hit puberty and they already have too much testosterone.”

He was not gonna field that one, so he just hummed, “Mm.”

Vi was Vi. She didn’t let him get away with shit.

“I blame you,” she declared.

“Babe, if you think for a second I’m not super fuckin’ happy my boys are all boy, think again.”

“So you’d have a problem if one of them was gay?” she asked.

“Are you sayin’ bein’ gay isn’t bein’ a boy? Because as far as I know, a gay guy is still a guy,” he returned. “Back in the day, I seen a lot of shit as a bouncer, and I saw a drag queen lay one motherfucker out. In drag. It was fuckin’ spectacular.”

That got her.

She started giggling.

So he kissed her.

Best taste in the world, Vi laughing.

He didn’t want to break the kiss, but a house full of kids who were awake was not conducive to what would happen next if he didn’t, especially when his wife stopped laughing into his mouth and slid her fingers into his hair.

He lifted his head and looked into eyes that held a little laughter and a little daze from the kiss.

And again, he wanted to fuck her.

“Can we put the kids to bed at six o’clock?” she asked.

He grinned down at her.

But unfortunately he had to answer, “Probably not.”


He kept grinning.

“I suppose it’s time to start thinking about dinner,” she noted.

“Dinner is me tossin’ chops on the grill and rallying Angie to make a salad,” he replied.

She frowned up at him and asked, “You’ve met your boys, yes?”

He nodded his head and kept smiling at her.

She continued, “How do you think chops and salad are gonna go over with them?”

“I’ll grill ’em two chops each. Maybe three.”

Her eyes slid away as she muttered, “A dinner of meat. That might work.”

One could say, their boys were big eaters.

“I’ll fire up the grill,” he muttered but stopped making his move to exit the bed when her fingers fisted in his hair.

He caught her gaze and was about to do something about her hand and the look in her eye when Angie shouted, “Mom! Dad! Mr. Ryker is here!”

“Oh shit,” Vi whispered.

“Fuck,” Cal bit off.

They had reason for their curses.

Ryker showing without warning could be anything. He’d pissed off an entire biker gang and needed a safe house (or more likely, fire power since Ryker was not a man to hide). He was in a fight with his woman and wanted a man at his side while he slammed bourbon and bitched. Or he could have a hankering to make a chocolate pie and needed a recipe.

The last was not probable, but with Ryker, anything was possible.

“Coming!” Vi yelled as she scooted out from under him.

He came up with her and they walked out of their room together. It was only once they moved through the door that he caught her with an arm around her shoulders, she slid hers along his waist, and they walked side by side into the living room.

There, Ryker had Angie in a headlock that held her to his massive chest. This was a hold that might send a father who didn’t know him to finding his gun. But since Cal knew him, he just shook his head and took in his girl, who was grinning like a fool.

Neither he or Vi got a word out before both boys came gunning in, shouting, “Mr. Ryker!”

Angie got strung up so Ryker could kiss the crown of her head before he let her go, set her aside and went into battle stance, in a squat, hands up, like he was about to do some MMA shit to Cal’s boys in the living room.

They tackled him as one, and within seconds Ben was held upside down to Ryker’s side and Sam was in a different kind of headlock, both of them laughing and shouting, “Let go!” and, “No fair!”

“Yo,” Ryker called to Cal and Vi like he didn’t have hold on two pre-pubescent boys.

“Hey, Ryker,” Vi called back.

Cal just lifted his chin.

Ryker shook his sons and they kept laughing and shouting.

It was not a surprise the guy could lock them down so easy. He was a tall, built, bald-headed, ugly-as-fuck monster who looked like he drank blood for breakfast.

Vi and Cal stopped a few feet away and that was when Cal spoke.

“You wanna let my son go before so much blood rushes to his head, he passes out when you put him down?”

Ryker shot Cal a nasty grin that was his normal grin, just nasty on his mug naturally, released Sam and put Ben on his feet.

“We’re gonna get you next time,” Ben warned.

“Boy, I’ll be in a wheelchair before you get me,” Ryker scoffed.

“Huh!” Ben shouted through a smile.

“Rooms. Trash. Homework,” Cal reminded them. “And Angie, baby, throw together a salad, will you? I’m cookin’ chops.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Angie agreed.

“Chops, killer! And tots?” Sam asked.

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