The Wayward Sons: (Book 4) Starlee's Hope Read online

  She slams into me, giving me the tightest, sexiest kind of hug; one filled with love and support. God, I love this girl. I lift her up, squeezing her with all my might and she laughs against my chest.

  I lower her to the ground, feeling some of the energy evening out, pressing my lips to hers, celebrating the first step toward my future, one that should have been unattainable to a guy like me. But just like this girl we first saw in a dusty desert museum on a hot, boiling day. She’d ended up changing our lives. Shifted the trajectory.

  “We’ll celebrate,” she says. “Later.”

  “Deal.”

  I kiss her once more before releasing her from the closet and going to tell the others.

  I follow Starlee down the hall, knowing one thing. All this proves that you never know where or when life is going to reveal itself, you just have to be ready to go for it.

  3

  Starlee

  “Tell me you made a cake,” George says to Dexter as he walks into the kitchen. We’re at Leelee’s house having a last-minute celebration for George. We didn’t have much time to prepare, but Tom sends over roasted chicken, a delicious-smelling corn casserole and a loaf of bread. Mom makes a salad over on the kitchen counter. Dexter arrived a little after everyone else, damp and fresh from a shower. He’d spent the afternoon working on his cookies.

  “Not a chance, brother,” he replies, handing him the box. Inside are a pile of the defective cookies he can’t sell.

  George groans and tosses the box on the counter. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m kind of over cookies.”

  Dex doesn’t look mad or offended. “Tell me about it.”

  “There’s plenty of food without a cake,” LeeLee says, patting Dexter on the back. She loves having all the boys here at once, which even with us all living within fifty feet of one another is less often than you’d think. “Grab a plate and dig in.”

  Sierra’s training kicks in and they offer for everyone to go first. It’s a ploy of course, pretending like they’re being polite when really, they just want us to go first so they can pig out once we’re settled. I fill my plate and sit down at LeeLee’s dining room table, Mom and LeeLee take the chairs at the ends, and the boys and Tom fill out the extra seats. Dexter sits on one side of me and George on the other. I can feel the energy rolling off George in waves, his knee bouncing with excitement.

  I rest a hand on his thigh and squeeze.

  “Well now that George knows what he’s doing next fall, how about everyone else? What’s the plan?” my mom asks, spreading her napkin over her lap.

  The boys are mid-food shoveling but Dexter swallows and says, “I’m going to stay at the Wayward Sun. You know, unless Sierra has other plans for the shop. I’d like to keep up the bakery aspect, maybe expand to another location eventually.”

  “An entrepreneur,” Mom says, nodding. “A business degree would complement that.”

  Dexter crams a whole slice of bread in his mouth and nods noncommittally.

  “Jake’s waiting to hear from a few colleges about football,” I say, taking the heat off of Dex. His knee taps mine under the table in appreciation. “You should hear soon, right?”

  “Next couple of weeks. Signing day is March fifteenth.”

  “And what colleges have expressed interest?”

  Jake starts listing the top five colleges. Three are here in California, the closest being Stanford. The other two in Nevada and Oregon. “Really, I’m okay with any of them. The programs are good. I just want to make sure it’s the right academic fit as well as athletic.”

  Meaning his grades are rough—the dyslexia makes it hard for him to keep up, but he doesn’t want to just get passed along for his athletic abilities. That’s how he got so far behind in the first place.

  “That’s really smart,” Mom says, giving him a supportive smile. She turns to the seat next to hers. “What about you, Charlie?”

  “Berkeley has a good eSports program and with George going there, it seems like a good fit. I talked to a recruiter at the tournament last month and he encouraged me to turn in my application.”

  LeeLee shakes her head. “eSports sounds like something made up.”

  Everyone laughs, including Charlie. “I guess it is, but I’m good at it and if they want to give me their money so I can get an education, I’ll take it.”

  “I hear that,” Jake says, fist bumping Charlie.

  Mom’s eyes shift to me and I feel the prickle of heat on my neck. “And Starlee? How’s your applications?”

  “Fine.”

  Lie number one.

  “Did you fill out the one for Emory?”

  I blink, trying to keep my face straight. Emory? I hadn’t even thought of it in months, but it makes sense that my mother would still think this was the priority. Emory University had been my goal before I moved out here. They have a school of public health, which was aligned with my former plans of working at the CDC. Somewhere between here and North Carolina, those dreams took a back seat. Wayyyyy back.

  “Great,” I say, lie number two slipping off my tongue easily. “Almost finished.”

  George detaches my hand from this thigh and link his fingers through mine. That’s when I realize how tight I’d been squeezing his leg. My mom has never been stupid and always has an alert awareness when it comes to me. An alertness that she’s tried to tame since she’s been back, but this college thing? Even if I’d changed paths, I realize that she certainly hasn’t. And when our eyes meet across the table, I know that’s exactly what she’s thinking and why this line of questioning even came up. She’d been waiting for the right moment to pounce.

  She takes a sip of her wine and turns her attention back to the boy next to me. “So, George, tell us about this art show? It sounds really interesting.”

  “Yes!” LeeLee says, “I want to hear more about that.”

  “Well, I don’t know much about it yet…” he starts and I reach for my bread, letting my mind wander as he speaks. Two things came to light during this dinner. First, everyone here has a plan for the next year and in a matter of months we’ll be spread all over the state, if not further. Second, for the first time in my life I have no plan at all and shockingly, I’m okay with that.

  I just don’t think my mother will agree.

  4

  Starlee

  “I should have known there was an ulterior motive,” I say the following day as Claire and I walk into the Helping Hands committee meeting.

  “What are you talking about, Dr. Evil?” she asks.

  “My mother. I should have known there was reason for her to stick around and help the guys. She’s just here to get her nose in my college decision.”

  Claire finds a couple of seats in the classroom and drops her backpack on the floor. I sit next to her. We’re the first ones here.

  “It’s pretty standard to have some parental input about college,” Claire says. “My dad is all over it. It seems a little extreme to offer to foster four orphans just to bug you.”

  “Maybe,” I mutter. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  Other students come in the classroom, including Charlie and Jake. Charlie takes the seat next to mine. He rejoined the club, thank goodness, no one else can figure out how to do all the tech. Jake is just here because I need a ride home and it gives us an excuse to hang out.

  It was Claire’s idea to have the Valentine’s dance at the community center. She’s active there, participating in a LBGTQ group that meets there weekly. There’s also an afterschool program for kids that need a safe place to play and help with homework, as well as a few other activities and groups run out of the center.

  We divide into sub-committees; decorations, music, food and drinks. I considered volunteering for the refreshment committee but that came to a harsh end when Dexter gave me the look of death and showed me his still-dyed fingertips when I suggested maybe he could help with the treats.

  “I can make cupcakes,” Christina volunteered. Jake gro
aned from his seat behind me and when I look back, a knowing look passes between him and Claire. Had she poisoned him at one point?

  Margaret doesn’t seem to notice and smiles gratefully. “Thanks Christina. Let me know if you need any help. I’m glad to pitch in.”

  “I’m planning on getting there early to decorate with balloons and streamers,” I say, making a few notes.

  “Do you need any help?”

  “No.” I glance at Jake and Charlie. “I’m good.”

  “I bet you are,” Christina mutters under her breath.

  I raise my eyebrows but she doesn’t look at me. She’s been pretty quiet since she vouched for us on New Year’s Eve. Honestly, other than a few snarky comments it seems like the fire has left her. It’s a sad state of affairs for a mean girl.

  “Charlie, you’re going to set up the sound system?”

  He pushes up his glasses and nods. “Yeah, I’ll get it all together and preload music into the computer with popular music.”

  “Make sure it’s appropriate,” Margaret says with a stern look. She’s such a perfectionist. “The director at the center was very specific about that.”

  “Radio format only,” Charlie says. “Got it.”

  Margaret continues on, way past the time needed to go over everything. “Remember,” she says as we’re all trying to flee the room, “we have permission to leave school after lunch since we’re working on a service project. Don’t try to use this as an excuse to sneak off and mess around. We’ve got a lot of work to do before the kids show up.”

  “She’s a slave driver,” Jake says, following me out of the building. “I don’t know how you do this all the time.”

  “It’s community service, Jake, we do it to help people,” I say, knowing he’s just being a pain. He’d had to stay late to make up test corrections, otherwise he’d be back home already.

  “I give enough back to this community by helping them win football games.” He winks and gives me a cheeky grin. God, he’s gorgeous and could get away with murder if he tried.

  “Such a philanthropist.”

  He narrows his eyes at me and then looks at Charlie. “Is that a bad word?”

  Charlie laughs and shakes his head, walking past Jake.

  “I’ll see you later,” he says to me.

  “Where are you going?” Jake asks.

  “I told Claire I’d help her with a few things for the dance. We’re going to hit the library, then she’ll drive me back to Lee Vines.”

  Charlie rests a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. I place my hand over his. “Call me when you get back?”

  “Yep.”

  He walks off and Jake grabs my hand and lifts it to his mouth, kissing the back. Shivers run down my spine. That mischievous grin returns. “I guess this means you and I have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves.”

  I see the twinkle in his blue eyes and feel the butterflies stir in my belly. I head toward the car and open the door. With a completely innocent expression, I reply, “I wonder what we can do to fill the time?”

  “When you said you wanted to spend time with me alone, this was not what I had in mind,” I say, huffing up the hiking trail a few feet behind Jake. The only consolation is the fact I get to stare at his ass. His beautiful, firm, perfect ass. You know that part in Captain America where he’s boxing against the punching bag? It’s like that. But in person.

  “It’s a beautiful day.”

  “It’s freezing out here.” Since the freak snowstorm, I keep winter clothes with me all the time, so I’m adequately bundled up. I’d kind of just wanted Jake to keep me warm instead.

  He smiles down at me. “We’re almost there.”

  In truth, the hike isn’t that bad—it’s just slippery. I’d thought Yosemite was beautiful in the summer, but in the winter, it turned into an icy paradise. Tree branches glisten with snow and ice. The falls trickle under a frozen shield. The sky is the brightest blue against the white wonderland and the only thing that comes close to matching it is the color of Jake’s eyes.

  As we near the top of the trail he reaches out his hand, offering me a boost. I take it, letting his strength pull me up the final few feet. He tugs me against him and wraps his arms around me, our chests both heaving from the climb.

  I take in the view—it’s magnificent.

  “Nice, eh?” he says, mouth warm and close to my ear.

  “You know the nicest spots.”

  “I want to take you to see them all.” There’s a wistfulness in his voice.

  I look up at him. At the strong jaw, the intense eyes. “You know I’ll go anywhere with you.”

  There’s a small bench, carved out of the existing rock, and he sits, pulling me onto his lap. His hand, bare, creeps up the back of my jacket, pushing cool air and the warmth of his fingers against my skin. “So, Emory University, huh?”

  I still, not sure what to say.

  “I looked it up. It doesn’t have a football team.” His fingers stroke my back. “And is in Georgia.”

  I swallow back the odd lump that’s formed in my throat. “It’s not definite.”

  “Nothing seems to be right now.”

  I’ve seen Jake many ways; frustrated, amped on adrenaline, determined and willful. I’ve seen his face consumed with lust, his eyes glazed over and cheeks red, but right now he seems a little lost—scared--and I’m not sure how to handle it.

  “In the short time we’ve known one another, we’ve had to handle a lot. I have no doubt we’ll figure out the future, too.”

  The sun dips behind the mountains, casting a sharp glare that reflects off the snow-covered peaks and hills. With his face bathed in gold, Jake turns to kiss me, finally giving me some of the warmth I crave—the physical kind. I love the feel of his mouth on mine, his hands on my lower back. My belly twists with want—a longing to feel his skin against mine.

  “You know I love you, right?” he says, blue eyes linking with mine.

  “I do, and I love you, too.”

  The words barely convey how I feel about him, and even when I say it, there’s the nudge of insecurity pushing at my brain, wondering why we haven’t slept together yet. Wondering why he takes me to places like this instead, but I don’t speak it. Not on this mountain top. Not on the way back down the trail and not even in the car ride back to Lee Vines.

  The boy loves me.

  I love him.

  We’ll figure it out.

  5

  Starlee

  If Jake Hollingsworth is hesitant to go all the way, Dexter Falco is the opposite. I can’t keep the boy out of my pants.

  Frankly, I don’t mind.

  We spent the afternoon delivering boxes of cookies—each tied with raffia and stuffed with red, white, and pink tissue. At the last stop, Dexter looks exhausted—so tired and a little relieved. I assume he’ll take me back home, but he passes the lodge and the Wayward Sun, turning into the trailer park, my stomach bursting with butterflies when he stops at the little white and green camper.

  His eyebrow raises but my hand is already on the door latch; ready, always ready.

  The bed is small, tucked in the back of the little trailer—a “guest room” in Katie’s camper. She’d given her blessing for us to use it when she’s not home now that the cottages are off limits and the double adult Starlees' eyes and ears are everywhere.

  Dexter’s mouth works down my body, starting at my lips, then down my neck, shoulders, and chest. I run my hand through the hair below his belly, feeling the coil in my stomach tighten like a spring ready to snap. It’s the patience he has for his baking, for the finer intricate details, the perfect measurements, the gentle touch that crosses over from the kitchen to my body. I didn’t know I could feel this way, that someone else could make my body react this way. When we join it’s like pieces linking together, fueled on hormones and sealed with a desperate, needy love.

  I’m obsessed with watch him during, when the hard lines on his face transform. The lines of anger a
nd stress evaporate, replaced by a singular focus; me.

  After, we lie next to one another, a pink and white quilt pulled over our bodies. He plays with my fingers, kisses them one by one. I stare at the ceiling, so low that Dexter hit his head on it more than once. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

  I wrinkle my nose and my cheeks heat. “Nothing.”

  He snorts. “Something. What?”

  “Is it about me?”

  I kiss his bicep. “Forget it.”

  He reaches for me and drags me between his legs. I feel him behind me, already hard again, but he just wraps his arms around me, holding tight. He whispers in my ear. “What’s the issue?”

  “There’s no issue,” I say, leaning against his muscled chest. “You’re just different now.” His eyebrow raises and I rush to add, “In a good way.”

  “I feel different,” he admits. “Happier. More content.”

  “Even with Sierra gone?”

  His chin rests on my shoulder. “As weird as it sounds, yes, even with her gone. She was struggling, and I get the need for space. I mean, it was kind of scary at first—we’ve always had one another—but I think we still do. She gave me a chance to grow up and deal with my issues. I’m trying to do the same for her.”

  “Have you heard from her?”

  “Occasionally. I try not to ask a lot of questions, although she can’t help but to check in on everyone here—the twins, Jake. I think she really trusts your mom and grandmother and that’s made it easier for her take some time away.”

  I twist my neck so I can see him. He looks down at me, gray eyes shining bright. I kiss his sharp jaw, push my hand into the fringe of hair hanging on his neck. “You’re a good brother.”

  “Yeah?”

  “And cookie maker.”

  He smiles. “And?”

  “Scone baker. Tart tester. Muffin mixer.” I try to keep my expression straight as his frustration rises. As much as I like this new, easier Dexter, there’s something about the low fire that runs in him that brings a similar boil in my veins.