Page 16 of Right Side of Paradise

The Last Time You Called Me Baby

My mother got the house in the divorce. Brock had made sure of it. He knew how much Onyx Cove meant to her and wanted her to have a permanent place to stay since the housing market on the island was madness.

After the split, my stepdad left and accepted a position in Raleigh.

I didn’t see him often, but there was no bad blood between us.

He and my mother spent sixteen amazing years together.

Their marriage gifted me with the people I loved the most. If Rico hadn’t become my brother, I don’t think I would have ever had the nerve to make friends with him. Or Christian and Soul.

Brock was the blueprint for the good man Rico had become.

Like his dad, he was a quiet provider, kind and always worrying about other people’s needs.

His protectiveness could be suffocating but I knew it came from a place of love.

At least most of the time.

Although right now he was looking at me like love was the last thing on his mind. There was a hunger shining in his eyes that couldn’t be satiated with the plate of soul food in front of him.

“You remember that sweet potato pie I made last Christmas?”

My grandmother was loud. And I’d never been more grateful for her inability to regulate her volume because it snatched me away from thoughts that were too dangerous to be having at the dinner table.

“Yeah, I remember.” My mother sounded weary, like she didn’t know where this conversation was going. You never knew with Edith Westbrook.

“That shit was so stringy you could floss your teeth with it,” Edith announced, picking up her sweet tea.

Laughter filled the dining room. One thing about my grandmother, she was honest as hell about her strengths.

She’d never been the cooking type.

And when she stepped in the kitchen from time to time it just confirmed what she already knew. If the recipe was more complex than a three-ingredient loaf of bread or a sandwich, she wasn’t doing it.

Cooking wasn’t her ministry.

She and Soul had that in common.

I turned to my left and found him smiling into his plate.

When he’d sat down beside me earlier instead of Rico, I’d been relieved after the tense way we’d left things last night.

But now Rico was seated across from me, focused solely on me, and I was second guessing that whole train of thought.

My mother grinned at me from the head of the table. “Lo, it’s so good to have you home for a while. Have you decided what you’re gonna get up to this summer?”

“Not yet,” I gave her my default answer, pushing the food around on my plate.

My mother’s cooking was divine. And I wasn’t trying to disrespect her by not eating after she’d gotten back in town this morning just to stand on her feet in the kitchen.

But my appetite was playing hide-and-seek right now.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re staying with Rico. He always took good care of you growing up. Now y’all have the summer to bond as adults.”

Rico’s stare grew more intense, heating my skin as a smirk slanted his lips.

I just knew he was about to say something slick, but he shoveled a forkful of baked mac and cheese in his mouth instead.

Thank God for small mercies.

“Ooh, have you thought about dating while you’re here? You spend so much time on the road alone, I worry about you.” Her face, which just so happened to be identical to mine, fell in a frown.

“I—”

“You know what I could do? I could set you up on some blind dates. Maybe you’ll meet someone worth visiting home for.”

She winked but I could hear everything she wasn’t saying. I needed to visit home more.

Just as guilt settled like a lead weight in my stomach, Rico cleared his throat across the table, cutting a glance at me before he announced to the table, “I don’t know, Ms. Yvie. You know Harlow likes to be alone. She might mess around and disappear as soon as he starts falling in love.”

Soul coughed beside me. My grandmother was too busy devouring her food. But my mother tilted her head at Rico’s claim and split an unsettled glance between us.

Rico rubbed my name over his brow, gaze unwavering.

I wasn’t dealing with this right now.

Tongue pushed against my cheek, I stared at the vase he’d brought my mom and focused on how pretty the hydrangeas spilling out of it were. Not the way my ex-stepbrother had moved from staring at me to leering with a cocky brow raised.

Whatever tension existed between us should have been worked out before we left his house to come here. My mother’s table was not the place to be throwing subliminals.

But since he wanted to take it there…

I cocked my head and smiled sweetly at my mother.

“Mom, I’d love to go on some dates. Make sure you tell them I love tulips and I’m allergic to shellfish.”

After helping my mother clear the table, I retreated to my room while Soul took care of the dishes.

Rico was downstairs talking to grandma which meant I finally had two seconds to myself to breathe.

Seated on my bed, I smiled fondly at everything still in its rightful place. Every week my mom had the cleaning lady dust in here and change the sheets. Just in case.

Yvette Donovan always held out hope that her empty nest wouldn’t remain so empty. If she stayed ready for my return, she wouldn’t have to get ready.

I got up to stand over my desk, studying the origins of my love for preserving memories.

By the time I was eighteen, I had over five scrapbooks filled to the brim of things I never wanted to forget.

For family.

For school.

For vacations.

The only difference now was that my scrapbook was digital.

I poured just as much love and time into curating my social media pages as I did the scrapbooks on this desk.

Granted, the posts I made were cluttered and chaotic to some, but they represented my love for telling layered stories through keepsakes and captured moments.

Leaving my desk, I turned just in time to see my bedroom door opening to reveal Rico.

He closed the door with a quiet snick and leaned against it, legs crossed at the ankle in front of him.

“We need to talk.”

I blinked at him but nodded and closed the short distance separating us.

Good. This was good. We weren’t beating around the bush. We could squash whatever had been throwing us off since yesterday and get back to what mattered—enjoying our summer together.

“Rico, if me dating this summer is going to be a problem, I can stay here with my mom.” I gulped past the lump my words had lodged in my throat.

He snorted a dry laugh, surprising me when he pulled my wrist and tugged until I was a breath away from him. This close, I could see every troubled emotion swirling in his gaze.

“You’re not dating anyone this summer, Harlow.”

I flinched, trying to back away from him. He had no say in who I dated or who I planned to fuck this summer. The same way I had no say in what he did or who he did it with.

“I already told you; I don’t need your permission. I’m not a child, Rico.”

“No, but you are my baby.”

My breath caught. I was expecting a fight. A stubborn exchange of words. Not the tender look blanketing his face or the soft lilt to his words.

The last time he called me baby had been on my twenty-first birthday, and I didn’t know how much I needed to hear him say it again.

“What?”

“Be with me this summer. Or as long as you want.”

“I—what happened to us never doing that again? You made us promise.” I was grasping at straws because I couldn’t make sense of what he’d thrown at me so casually.

Be with me this summer. Or as long as you want .

“Please, Harlow. The only thing that hasn’t changed in the last nine years is how bad I want you. How bad all of us want you. You started something that night and it’s still unfinished.”

His confession set fire to my waning resistance. It shriveled up and died when his fingertips brushed my cheek.

“If I’m your stepsister then?—”

“This is inappropriate,” he finished for me, pushing off the door to invade the rest of my space.

“Very inappropriate,” I breathed when his face dropped to mine. “Rico.”

His name was the last defense I had, and it did nothing for me when he wrapped his arm around my waist and dragged me against him.

“I said it was inappropriate.” He kissed my forehead. “Not that I was stopping.”

A second later his lips found mine and he kissed me with a tenderness I didn’t know he possessed. “Please, Harlow, please,” he pleaded between pecks.

Then his tongue was seeking. And claiming. And stealing all my words.

My arms were over his shoulders, hands messing up his waves.

Our breaths were loud, tongues wrestling and teeth nipping.

But nothing told me to pull away. I didn’t want to stop and the hardness pressing into me let me know I wouldn’t have to.

Rico came up for air, leaving me panting.

He scanned my face, a slow smile taking over his.

“Shit. I haven’t kissed you since that night.” He touched his lips, awe entering his gaze. “How did I go nine years without that?”

Heat flushed my skin. I stared at him with a shy smile.

Without warning, he picked me up and walked us over to my bed.

“Soul and I are on PrEP, we got tested two weeks ago and we’re not sleeping with anyone else.”

Rico sat me down on the edge of my bed and shoved until I willingly laid back.

My breath was still caught in my throat, but I asked, “Why are you telling me that?”

He gave me a deadpan look before pushing my short sundress up my thighs. “Don’t play coy, Harlow. It’s not needed with me.”

His palms landed on the inside of my thighs, spreading me until the wet thong between my legs was on display.

The cool air in the room mixed with the heat of Rico’s attention had me squirming and disoriented.

“Rico, we’re at my mother’s house,” I whined even as I lifted my hips to help him get my panties off.

Propped up on my elbows, I watched him lick his lips as he kneaded my thighs.

“We’re at my mother’s house,” I repeated, my voice more breathless than the last time.

“Hmm,” was all he gave me before he dipped his head and kissed the inside of my thigh.

“Ricooo,” I moaned.

“I know, I know. Your mother’s house,” he echoed. “And she’d have a heart attack if she knew how hard you were about to come for your stepbrother.”

That was the last warning I got before his lips were on my pussy, kissing my clit and tonguing my entrance like he’d done it before.

I arched off the bed, too stunned to do anything but push my sex into his mouth and whimper at how fucking good he was making me feel.

He stopped to push his thumb against my clit, caressing me until I rolled my hips, craving more. So much more.

“You’ve never let me stretch this pussy but if you ever change your mind,” he trailed, thumb stroking up and down. “I would make sure you never regretted it.”

I could never regret anything with Rico. I just couldn’t tell him that. What we were doing was already fucked up. In my mother’s house, no less. And yet, what I wanted—no needed—was for him to never stop.

“God, Soul wasn’t lying. Your pussy is perfect.” He kissed my clit again, sucking my swollen flesh into his mouth. “Show me how quiet you can be for me, baby. Because I’m not stopping until I make your legs shake.”

Shit.

I rolled my hips again. So greedy. So desperate.

My hand sank into his hair, holding him right there.

Right fucking there.

Rico licked me up like I was his favorite dessert. Devoured me like he was running out of time. Worshipped me like I was the answer to his prayer.

And the more he fucked me with his mouth, the more I wanted to come all over his face.

My legs were already trembling, but he didn’t stop.

I was already speechless, but he didn’t stop.

Nothing was stopping this man from pleasing me. He wasn’t even coming up for air and that devotion—that determination made me melt.

I was so caught up I didn’t even hear the bedroom door open, but I heard when it closed. Rico looked over at the newcomer and my heart dropped to my ass before my eyes followed his.

“Oh, shit.”