Page 7 of His to Claim (The Rowdy Johnson Brothers)
“Wow.”
“Hell yeah, Maeve. I’ve got what I needed. I’m going to go research. In the meantime, hold tight. I’ll see you later, alright?” A nod is my only reply. I watch as his eyes linger on my face before he pulls away. I have so many questions and not enough answers, but they’ll have to wait. I’m left with watching JW's backside. There’s no use sticking around to work when no one is walking in and all my orders as well as deliveries have been handled. I’m going home to think this to death while making popcorn, then enjoy an Aperol Spritz and a new season of a crime show. And if that doesn’t calm me down, I know an orgasm or two will.
SEVEN
JW
Fuck me, leaving Mae is damn hard, a lot harder than I thought possible. The way she reached for me, practically begging for more and having no problem yielding to me when I took her mouth. I’m left with a hard cock and a need to fix all her problems regardless of what she says or thinks. I flip the sign on her door from open to closed. Can’t do much about the lock, but I’ll call her in a few minutes. I’d have done it myself, except it’s one of those locks you turn from the inside or need a key for the outside. I’m going to add getting a set of keys to her place and bakery as soon as I can. Shit, I already know I’ll give her the keys to everything I own, there’s not a single doubt that Maeve won’t be mine in every way possible.
My gut is roiling, the blood in my veins is boiling, and the need to pulverize the dick who isattacking Maeve has my fists and jaw clenching. Whisked Away’s parking lot has small lulls between patrons, but never this bad, and to not even have a customer inside the thirty or so minutes I was there? Yeah, shit is bad, really damn bad, and the reviews are pretty fucking nasty. The date on some of them shows it’s been going on entirely too long. I’ve got to sit with that on my shoulders, that Mae didn’t feel like she could come to me or any of the family when she’s more than aware we’ve got Fletch Wild, who would do anything for us or the people in our lives.
A quick press of a button unlocks my truck. I slide inside, hit the ignition, and put the gear shifter inReverse. I’m tempted to stay in the parking lot while I make a call to Fletch. The only reason I won’t is to protect Maeve from finding out and worry yet again. It doesn’t take me long to have my vehicle turned around and at the stop sign, where I scroll through the contacts on my display until I reach the name I need. I click the name and wait for the ringing to go through the speakers before heading back to the ranch. I’ve got a lot of work that needs to be done—the horses need their feet checked, Mom’s new adoptee does as well, and next week, we’ll be making our rounds with the cattle too. One of them I’d like to get to today. I noticed one of our heifers has a slight limp to her gait, which can be a domino effect and cause multipleissues. It’s better to get it taken care of now, and if I can’t, well, I’ll have to see what Tallulah has available on her books. I’m hoping it’s an easy fix I can take care of, a sole ulcer or her hooves needing to be trimmed. I also know the chances of that happening are slim to fucking none.
“This is Wild,” Fletch answers the phone relatively quickly. He must have his cell phone forwarded to his desk, or he’d have known who’s on the other end of the line.
“Hey, Fletch. This is JW. You got a minute?” I hear the typing on his end stop.
“JW, this is an unexpected call. What can I do for you?” There’s no annoyance in his tone when it damn well should be. He’s my oldest brother’s best friend, basically a brother from another mother. Fletch has helped Lane in his situation with Birdie as well as Dean with Tully’s. The only brothers who haven't called him yet for a problem are Lawson, Trey, or Ryland. I’m about to ask him a major favor, one that I’ll return at any time, day or night.
“Shit, I’m hoping you can do something for me. Maeve’s store, Whisked Away, you know the bakery in town?” I attempt to jog his memory. He hasn’t been in town for a while. He and Delilah are settled in Peachtree, Georgia doing their own thing, marriage, family, and whatever else.
“The baker you’ve had a hard-on for all this time?” Fletch says with a hint of laughter in his tone.
“That’d be the one. I’m going after what I want.” I’ve still got my doubts that I won't scare her away with what I want to do to her body. Until then, I’m going to take Mae any way I can.
“About damn time. Tell me what’s going on in the Johnson world that you need my help with.” After a few turns and driving through our small downtown area with the only traffic light in Arrowleaf, I’m on the highway back to the ranch.
“How good are you in IT, or do you have a guy who would be willing to help?” I start. I’m sure Fletcher does. Still, I’d rather ask before I lay it all out.
“Yep. How do you think we found shit out with Birdie? I got a guy who loves to sit behind a computer and break firewalls for fun. I’m sure he’d be willing to help out since he’s done it before.” Shit, I forgot he pulled in the help with that situation. When Birdie had been abused by a guy who had money backing him, it had led to a point where digging deep had to happen.
“Thank fuck. She’s got somebody leaving negative reviews left and right. It’s so bad no one is coming and going. Her only business is from the locals, restaurants, and web orders.”
“What’s Maeve’s website name, and which sites are the reviews on? I’m going to look it up and forward it to my guy.” I rattle off what he needs and then tell him the one she pulled up for me. I looked at it for less than a minute, but the hateful shit on the screen had me ready to yank itoff the desk and throw it at the wall. Except the computer didn’t do dick; the person behind the screen did.
“My gut is saying this is jealousy through and through. She’s twenty-one, has her shit together, her business is thriving, and I’m not going to get into her beauty. You’ve got a woman of your own, so you know how that goes. Then there’s the damn thought of it the back of my head where the escalating reviews have me thinking it’s a man. It’s pretty fucking descriptive, man.” I hear the tapping of Fletch’s computer. He’s staying silent, and it’s damn near impossible not to ask questions. I leave him be, though. He’s doing his job, one he’s not even getting paid for.
“Fucking shit, this is terrible. I hate to say it, but her website is currently down. There’s a banner about her bakery being out of business. Is that true?” I’m thrown for a loop. I’ve got half a mind to turn my truck around and go back to Maeve’s, except she might have done this last part herself.
“Not sure. I’ll find out later tonight when I’m at her place.” We’ve yet to talk, and our chat needs to happen. Kissing Mae and leaving her wasn’t my brightest idea, but I had to leave or else I’d have stripped her naked and laid her flat on the nearest available surface, and then neither of us would have gotten any work done.
“Find out. I’ll forward all of this to my guy and see what we can do,” Fletch says beforeadding on, “I swear, if I wanted to hang up my gun and retire, I’m thinking you Johnsons could keep me flush with work.” He doesn’t say dick about payment, though. He refuses it any time we offer to pay him or anyone who helps out along with him.
“You’re not wrong. Appreciate your help, Fletch.” Hopefully, Lawson is at the stable when I get back to the ranch. I’m going to have to talk to him about what’s going on because one thing I know about my brother and Fletcher is the two of them talk every chance they get. I’d rather Lawson hear it from me first than secondhand.
“Anytime. I’ll call or send a text when we get something.” We disconnect as I turn onto the dirt road heading toward home. Now that I’ve gotten a few things taken care of, it’s time to work, and then head back into town to see Maeve.
EIGHT
MAEVE
“What a month this week has been,” I say into my empty rental home. I’ve thought about going to the animal shelter and seeing what they have up for adoption. A dog would probably be out of the question with my crazy hours at the bakery. I’d feel bad leaving them locked in my small rental house while I’m at the shop for twelve hours a day. I even thought about bringing them to the store with me, except I’d have to keep them away in the small back room. So here I am, talking to no one except myself. I’ve gone back and forth with adopting a cat instead, only I find reasons to hold myself back. Clearly, I’m not ready to be an animal mom of any kind.
I go to the kitchen. Maybe food and a drink will calm my nerves and help me to not overthink every single moment. I’ve already dropped my bag, kicked off my shoes, and now that I’mon my way to the kitchen, I’m doing the weird dance and juggle to take my bra off. I’m not ready for a shower yet, but my shoulders hurt from either wearing this torture device or the amount of stress I’ve been carrying lately. More than likely, it’s a bit of both. I wiggle around after unsnapping the latch at my back, pull the strap through an arm hole, and do the same for the other side. Finally, it comes out of my shirt, and I fling it over my shoulder. I’ll deal with it later.
I’m reaching for the refrigerator door when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I refuse to turn the ringer on. It’d go off non-stop with the “Sisters before Misters” group chat with Maddie and Michelle. Not to mention the other group chat with us girls and our parents, aptly named “If I ever need a kidney.” I’d like to say those names are my doing, but they aren’t. Maddie is the genius with a side of sense of humor. The vibration buzzes again, which is usually code for our family chat. Mom always has her phone within reaching distance. I pull out my phone, glance at the screen, and sure enough, Mom must be hammer-fisting the keys with one text after another in our family chat, and it’s all directed at me.
Mom: Mae