I thought she lived in a trailer. Not a camper. I started to ask her why she lived in a camper, but she closed her mouth and moaned. Words left me as my cock twitched in my damn shorts. Fuck, that was hot. She even made eating cake sexy.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she grinned. “This is the best cake I’ve ever had. Thank you. And you’re right. I don’t want to share anymore. We can eat it all.”

  I chuckled, then turned my attention to my cake just to stop eye-fucking her. Clearing my throat, I moved the topic back to her living conditions. “Why are you living in a camper?”

  “We’ve always lived in it. We don’t normally stay in one place long.”

  What the fuck?

  “So, you’re an actual gypsy?”

  She grinned. “Yep.”

  Did my dad know this? He was dating a woman who lived in a camper and moved all the time? How had that worked when Gypsi was growing up? Did she ever make friends and get settled somewhere long enough to get attached? This bothered the fuck out of me, and it shouldn’t have. Not my problem. I wasn’t looking to fix her life. I was looking to fuck her.

  “Do you like living that way? Is that why you would leave if they got married?”

  She shrugged. “I want to have roots one day. It’s just … if Mom gets married, she doesn’t have to move me into her new home. I’m not a child. I’m almost twenty. We live together now because it’s just us. But if she has a husband, then I need to be an adult and live my own life. And traveling is all I know. Maybe I’ll find a place I love and get a good job, save up, and go to college, make a life for myself there. I just don’t know yet.”

  Why was this hot? She had no fear. She was a free spirit. The idea of living in a home like this when all she’d ever known was a camper didn’t seem to appeal to her at all. She didn’t give a fuck about our money.

  “Lollipop.”

  “Yes?”

  “How long do we have to be friends before I get to fuck you?”

  She laughed, and her twinkling eyes met mine. “Why do we have to put a time frame on it?”

  “Because you might up and leave. I’ve got to crank up the friendship game hard before I miss out on getting my hands, mouth, and dick on and inside that hot little body.”

  She took another bite of cake and chewed it. My eyes locked on her lips. She had great lips. They’d look real nice, wrapped around my cock.

  When she finally swallowed, my eyes dropped to her neck, watching her throat.

  “I won’t leave before that happens. I promise,” she said, and my eyes snapped back up to meet hers.

  “You promise?” I asked.

  She grinned, then dropped her eyes back to her cake. “Yes.”

  “So, this friends thing … can I kiss you?”

  She pulled her full bottom lip between her teeth, and I wanted to groan. It popped free, and then she cut her eyes at me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Because you think I’ll want more?”

  She shook her head. “No, because I think I will.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “Fuck, Lollipop. You’re killing me.”

  A soft laugh escaped her, and she went back to eating her cake. I had female friends … well, a female friend. My sister-in-law, Maddy. Sure, I’d been attracted to her and wanted to fuck her when we first met. But that was before she became my brother’s girl. The difference with her was, she didn’t make me feel like this. I didn’t fight the urge to push her against a wall and fuck her like a crazed man. It had been easy to be Maddy’s friend.

  I tried to think of things I had done with Maddy as friends before my brother laid claim to her. I needed to do those things with Gypsi. I should probably stop calling her Lollipop too. Every time I did, I thought about places I wanted to lick her.

  Damn, this was going to be tough.

  Gypsi finished her cake just as Ms. Jimmie walked into the kitchen.

  “There you are. I was wondering where you’d run off to when I took the snacks outside. I was coming back to get the cake to take out there.”

  I shook my head. “No. The cake stays in here. It’s just for Gypsi. That’s who I bought it for.”

  Ms. Jimmie gave me a look that I knew too well. “You bought her that cake?”

  I nodded.

  “It had better be because you were being nice and she wanted it. Not because you want to get into her bed,” she said, then looked at Gypsi. “I love this boy, but you need to be careful with him. Don’t fall for that charm. He loves women. All of them.”

  “Hey, that’s not true, Ms. Jimmie. I only love you. I just like all the other women,” I told her, then winked.

  She shook her finger at me. “You see what I mean?”

  Gypsi laughed, and the musical sound of it made me feel all warm and shit. Damn, I needed to fuck her out of my system. She stood up and took her plate, then mine, then walked with them to the sink.

  “I’ll take those. You two go outside,” Ms. Jimmie told her.

  “Thank you,” Gypsi said, then headed in my direction.

  I took the moment to enjoy the view.

  I didn’t want to share her. The idea to have friends over had suddenly lost its appeal. “What’s your favorite movie?” I asked her, although I already knew.

  “The Godfather,” she replied.

  Damn, that was still funny.

  “That’s a classic. Why don’t we go to the theater and watch it?”

  She frowned at me. “What about the pool and your friends?”

  I shrugged. “Sax can be the host. I’m not in the mood to swim anymore. It’s been a long day, and I’d rather not be around people.”

  She glanced down at her cover-up. “Can I go change into clothes?”

  I wished she would just take off that cover-up and sit in my lap while I sucked on her tits, but since that wasn’t going to happen, I nodded.

  “Yeah. I’ll go get changed too. Meet you in the theater in fifteen.” I told her.

  She headed for the stairs, and I pulled out my phone and sent Sax a text.

  Not in the mood for the pool. You can carry the party and send them home when you want.

  He replied

  What the fuck are you doing?

  Grinning I typed out my response and sent it.

  Going to watch The Godfather with Gypsi. Alone.

  He didn’t need to get any ideas about joining us. There was no response to that, so I headed to my room to get changed.

  Twelve

  Gypsi

  The theater was big enough to fit fifty people. When I walked in, I could smell the popcorn. Turning, I found Trev standing in front of a theater-style popcorn machine, scooping some into a bucket.

  He grinned. “We’ve got soda, water, wine, beer, whiskey—oh, and I think there is some apple juice and cran.”

  “Apple juice sounds good,” I replied.

  He lifted his chin toward the room. “Pick a seat. I’ll bring it to you.”

  I looked out over the tiered rows of black leather chairs that looked like they reclined. I walked down to the middle, then went to the center of the row. The seats were so big and plush that I pulled my bare feet up and crossed my legs.

  Trev walked up and put my apple juice in the cupholder on my seat, then looked down at my legs. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be distracting at all,” he said, sinking down in the chair beside me with the popcorn.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your bare thighs wide open,” he said pointedly.

  I was wearing a pair of shorts and an oversize sweatshirt in case it was cold in here. I didn’t think it was at all revealing or flattering. “Do you want me to sit another way?”

  He smirked. “I’m joking. The lights are about to go out. It’s fine. Sit how you’re comfortable.” He held out the bucket of popcorn to me. “Want some?” he asked.

  I reached into the bucket and got a handful, then shifted in my seat to put my knees together and bend my legs up beside me. Trev looked at my legs and grinned, then turned back to the screen.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I nodded, and he held up his hand, then put it back down. The lights went out, and then the screen lit up.

  “How did you do that?” I asked, amazed.

  “I didn’t. Ralph did,” he replied. “He’s up in the box where the projector is.”

  “Who is Ralph?” I asked.

  “Ms. Jimmie’s nephew. He does, uh … odd jobs around the house,” he replied.

  I sank back onto the leather and watched the screen. Reaching over to get popcorn occasionally.

  “When did you see this movie the first time?” he asked me.

  I grinned. “It was playing at a dollar movie theater. Mom and I went to see it. I was thirteen.”

  “And at thirteen, you decided this was your favorite movie?”

  I nodded. “I used to pretend I was part of the Corleones. I made up an entire story about it in my head.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, then tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. How was eating popcorn sexy? I sighed and turned back to the movie, trying to focus on it and not the way Trev looked while eating popcorn.

  “How long has he been in Sicily? It’s been months, and he’s still got the damn bruise on his face,” Trev said.

  “Yeah, they messed up there. And when they realized it, they wouldn’t go back and refilm it because they’d already gone over budget. They fixed it by saying the punch broke his cheekbone and caused a permanent black eye.”

  Trev turned to me. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Yep. I watched a documentary on the making of it. Did you know they offered Michael’s role to Jack Nicholson, but he turned it down?”

  Trev laughed. “Fuck, I wonder how long he regretted that.”

  “I imagine he still regrets it,” I replied, then tossed popcorn in my mouth.

  “Oh! You’re watching The Godfather!” my mom’s voice called out.

  I turned to see her walking in, followed by Garrett.

  She was grinning at me. “And there is popcorn? How much fun!”

  She walked down to our row and came to sit on the other side of me. Garrett went over to the popcorn.

  “What do you think of the house?” she asked me.

  “It’s massive,” I replied.

  She rolled her eyes and laughed at me. Then, she leaned over to look at Trev. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s impressed.”

  He just smiled at her.

  Garrett handed Mom a bucket of popcorn, and she reached up to grab the front of his shirt and pulled him down until she could kiss him.

  “Thank you,” she said against his lips, then released him.

  He cupped her face with his hand and brushed his thumb over her cheek as if she were something precious, then moved to take the seat beside her. He had also brought her a glass of rosé in a wineglass, putting it in her cupholder.

  “This has been Gypsi’s favorite movie since she was a kid. I took her to see it at the theater, and she became obsessed with it,” Mom told Garrett.

  Trev leaned back in his seat, and I saw him look at his dad with a smirk on his face. Mom was terrible about being quiet during movies. I wondered if Garrett knew that flaw about her yet.

  “Oh, and don’t ever do that to me again,” she said. “You scared me this morning.”

  I had known she’d get worried. “I’m sorry.”

  She patted my leg, then took a handful of her popcorn, then turned to say something to Garrett. I tried not to stare, but I checked to see if he was annoyed by her talking instead of watching yet. The grin on his face said he wasn’t.

  I looked at Trev. “I hope you’re not really into this movie,” I whispered. “Because she can’t shut up and watch one. She’ll talk the entire time.”

  His gaze dropped to my mouth, then back up to meet my eyes. “I’ve seen it enough times. It’s fine. Besides”—he glanced around me to look at them—“my dad looks so damn happy that I’m not sure I recognize him.”

  “Yeah, Mom has that effect on men,” I told him, then turned my attention back to the screen.

  “What’s that guy’s name who’s in charge?” Mom asked me.

  “The don?”

  She nodded, then turned back to Garrett. “She used to pretend the don was her dad.” Mom laughed.

  Thanks, Mom. I wasn’t going to share that bit of information.

  At least it was dark in here and my blush wouldn’t show.

  “You like Don Vito?” Garrett asked me.

  I nodded. “He’s the best part of the movie.”

  Trev cleared his throat, and Garrett grinned, sitting back in his chair.

  I turned to Trev. “You don’t agree?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a fan of Michael. It focuses on him turning into a badass. That’s the point.”

  “He is ruthless,” I pointed out.

  Trev grinned. “Like I said, badass.”

  I gave him an amused grin and reached for more popcorn.

  “Did you go swimming? I saw Saxon and some others leaving when we arrived,” Mom asked.

  I shook my head.

  “We could go tonight,” she said, smiling, then turned to Garrett. She whispered in his ear and then did that thing where she curled up close to talk more.

  When she stood up, she gave me a smile and a little wave, then followed him out of the door.

  Yep, she was going to either get hurt or get married. Mom was in love.

  Thirteen

  Trev

  The damn horse was a mistake. Frustrated, I took off my Stetson and ran a hand through my sweaty hair before putting it back on my head. Getting this horse to calm the fuck down was impossible. He was two years old and should be more controllable. I didn’t give a shit who his sire was. This wasn’t a winner.

  Glaring at the practice jockey, Eddie, I waited for him to get to me.

  “He’s a waste of goddamn time,” I said with disgust.

  Eddie glanced back at him. “He’s got potential, but he’s picky. Maybe we need to try another rider.”

  Eddie knew more about this shit than me. Hell, two years ago, I hadn’t had anything to do with this side of the family business. Dad had forced me into it last year, and now, here I was, invested.

  “Still throws me for a loop when I see you in a hat, talking about horses,” Sax said from behind me.

  I turned to look at him.

  “Yeah, throws me too,” I replied.

  “Still having issues with Trigger?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Think we could borrow Tim?” I asked him. Tim was the practice jockey they kept at Moses Mile full-time. “We’ve tried Eddie, Hill, and Darcy. I’m out of jockeys to try.”

  Sax nodded. “Yeah. I’ll send him over.”

  I turned to walk back toward the stables, and Sax fell in step beside me.

  “Haven’t heard from you all week. Wanted to make sure you were alive.”

  I smirked. “Between working with this damn horse and being the best damn friend Gypsi’s ever had, there hasn’t been much time for anything else.”

  “Gypsi still here?” he asked me.

  He was trying to sound like he didn’t care. But he did. I didn’t like that he cared.

  “No. She and her mom went back to that fucking camper they live in three days ago. Dad has been a damn monster since Fawn left. He hates the camper. But Fawn doesn’t want Gypsi there alone and told Dad that she isn’t after his house and money. She just wants him. And she thinks them staying here is unfair to him.” I laughed, thinking about how messed up that woman was making him.

  “You think he’s going to marry her?”

  As much as I wished he weren’t—simply because I was afraid it would make shit with Gypsi harder—I nodded. “I can’t remember ever seeing him this gone over a woman. Neither has Blaise.”

  “Wow,” he replied.

  If he was thinking that Gypsi being my stepsister meant he was going to get a chance at her, that wasn’t the case. At least not until I got over this thing I had for her. Then, it would be fine. If Sax wanted to do the relationship thing with her, I didn’t care. Or at least I wanted to think I wouldn’t care. If it was any other girl I wouldn’t care. So I shouldn’t care if it was Gypsi.

  Except my hands were fisting like I cared. Whatever. I just needed to fuck her. That was all this was. No girl had made me wait before. Made me work for it. Typically, I smiled at them, and they dropped to their knees and sucked my dick.

  “What’re your plans this evening?” he asked me.

  “Why, you want a reason to get Chanel over here, topless, and fuck her again?” Yeah. I knew they’d fucked in the pool house. She’d made sure to tell everyone.

  He frowned. “That was a onetime thing.”

  “You tell her that? She’s planning the engagement party. Saxon Houston fucks you, then you’re relationship material,” I teased him.

  He rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

  I stopped at the office door to see if Maddy was still here, but she was gone. The lights were off. My brother had probably summoned her home. The man was pussy-whipped.

  “Who all knows about Chanel?” he asked me.

  I glanced over at him. “You worried about Declan finding out? I’m gonna assume she knows.”

  “I don’t care about Declan or what she knows. I went ahead and fucked Chanel, knowing she’d tell Declan, in hopes that it kept her from texting me.”

  I stared at him. Who was he worried about finding out?

  My eyes narrowed as I looked at him. “You asking if Gypsi knows?” I asked, more pissed than I should be.

  He shrugged. “You’re the one who said you just want to fuck her out of your system. Why are you getting so damn angry about my wanting something more than that … possibly? If she could get over you, that is.”

  Fuck this. I stalked toward the exit, not looking back at him.