Beyond a doubt, Jorlan had been with a boatload of women. Why not err on the side of caution, you know?
Oh! He’d once mentioned massage oil and feathers. A fantasy of his? She tossed a bottle of oil into the cart and set off to find a feather duster.
At the register, a scorching blush spread across her cheeks like wildfire. A tall, gangly boy of no more than twenty, the salesclerk lifted a box of condoms and grinned. “Stocking up for the year?”
“For the weekend.” After paying, she carried her bags to the car…crap! Jorlan stood outside it, glaring at anyone who passed.
Spotting her, he relaxed his stance and proudly lifted his chin. “No one dared approach the car.
“Good job,” she told him as he helped her load the bags in the backseat.
They made the drive home in silence, her nerves acting up again. How would he react to her purchases?
She parked in the driveway. Dusk’s fading light framed her house, making the white stucco, stained glass windows and crenellated rooftop glow.
Jorlan hefted the bags from the passenger seat, his biceps bulging. She tried not to drool as she claimed the sacks with the condoms, then rushed ahead of him to open the front door.
“You can put the bags on the couch,” she told him.
He complied, only to frown and extend his index finger, a silent request for her to wait. Palming the spatula, he stalked into the kitchen, as stealthy as a shadow, disappearing from view.
Her stomach flip-flopped. When glass shattered and a man grunted, she hurried to take the same path, the bags she refused to relinquish swinging.
When she saw the source of the commotion, her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Stop! Please, Jorlan. The man you’re holding down about to punch is my brother. Denver, meet Jorlan. Jorlan, meet Denver.”
The two males sprang apart.
“My apologies,” Jorlan grated.
“Hey, Kates,” Denver called happily. Blood trickled from his nose. He plopped onto the bar stool at the counter, where an open beer waited. “Did you come to join the party?”
The back door opened and her three more brothers entered the kitchen.
“Look who finally got here,” Nick said.
“What’s going on?” She eyed her siblings through narrowed eyes. “And where are your cars?”
“We took an Uber,” Erik explained. “Didn’t want you seeing our cars and running for the hills.” His sandy-colored hair stuck out in spikes, and lines of stress branched around his eyes. “And you know, no drunk driving and shit.”
Nick spread his arms, all, I’m king of the world. “When I informed the boys about our earlier conversation, they suggested we bring the party to Jorlan.”
Katie stomped her foot and growled, “You gossip! You promised not to tell!”
He shrugged. “I promised not to tell…anyone but family. It’s an unspoken caveat, and you know it.”
“We wanted to meet Jordie boy,” Grayson—Gray—piped in, his voice slightly slurred. Grinning, wavering on his feet, he thrust a beer in Jorlan’s direction. “So nice to meet you, buddy. Drink this. Liquor good.”
“Beer isn’t actually liquor,” she muttered. How was she the only sane person in the room?
“Lick her?” Jorlan brightened, his mispronunciation too adorable to correct.
“Drink!” Gray repeated. “Want to go out back and work out some tension. Spoiler alert. That wasn’t a question.”
Mimicking her, Jorlan said, “Bottoms up,” then chugged.
When her synapsis started firing again, she shouted, “No!” and rushed over to swipe the beer from his grip. He was from another freaking planet. No telling how alcohol would affect him.
“Want to work out some tension,” he said, slurring worse than Gray. He nodded, swayed. Nodded again. “Aye.”
“You’re already drunk?” Her incredulity echoed off the walls. “Okay, that’s it. The party is over. Everyone order another Uber.”
“How about…” Nick swaggered to her side and planted a kiss on the end of her nose. Before she could slap him, he darted away. Laughing, he finished, “We don’t. We gotta teach Jorlan a couple lessons first.”
Save me. “What do you just gotta teach him, hmm? Give me the highlights.”
Denver: “How to treat our baby sister, for one.”
Erik: “The consequences of hurting a James.”
Nick: “The consequences of leaving a James.”
Gray: “How to hold his beer.”
“You’re kidding me, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.” She gave her foot another stomp, the shopping bags banging into her thigh. “Besides using Jorlan as a punching bag, what else are you planning?”
“Nothing.” Erik held up his left hand in a facsimile of the Boy Scout salute. “Honest.”
Jorlan moaned and clasped a hand to his head. “The chamber is spinning. Make it stop.” His golden complexion had taken on a green cast.
Concerned he might have a concussion, Katie dropped the bags and raced to his side.
“He’s had a single beer.” Gray held up two fingers. “He’s fine. Probably.”
“He’s never had alcohol before, you idiot.” She hadn’t meant to scream the words, but come on!
Jorlan swayed and would have fallen if she hadn’t propped him up with her hip. “Kat-ya,” he said, carefully articulating each syllable. “I think I am dying.”
“You’re not dying.” What if he’s dying? Acting as his crutch, she led him to the living room couch, removed the bags with a single leg-swipe, and helped him ease down. Every motion drew another moan from him. Sitting at his side, she smoothed her fingertips over his forehead, the way her mother used to do for her anytime she’d been sick. “By morning, you might wish you were dead, but I’m 90…80…70 percent sure you’ll survive this.”
He closed his eyes and muttered something in a language she didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she told him softly, still smoothing the tension from his brow, around his eyes, his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
He leaned into her touch, and she mused she wanted to stay right here, with him, forever.
“What the hell is this?”
Nick’s shout broke through her dreamy reverie, and she whipped around, expecting to find…what? A decapitated body, maybe. Or a ticking time bomb set to explode. What she found? Nick stomped into the living room holding a bag, scowling as he rifled through the contents. Her other brothers trailed him.
Katie jolted up so quickly Jorlan bounced on the couch springs. He swung his arms, grappling to find a firm foundation.
He bounced again as she launched at her brother. “Put that down this instant!”
A split second before they collided, Nick tossed the bag to Gray. Who missed. The contents spilled across the floor.
Time seemed to pause, and yet she heard ticktock in the back of her mind. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. All eyes fastened on the items scattered across her floor. Though she wanted to dive down and snatch everything up, Katie straightened and angled her chin, opting to act like a mature, rational adult. Acting was the key word.