Claiming Bailey Read online

  And now, Nathan and Joel were laughing, laughing, while Joel did his math homework. Not once in the history of school could Bailey ever imagine anyone having fun while attempting to figure out mathematical problems.

  But Nathan had somehow done that for Joel. Made his schoolwork fun and interesting. And she was quickly learning that her brother was smart. Really smart. She’d barely made it through high school, and she knew without a doubt Joel was going to breeze through. Oh, his grades weren’t great, Mostly Bs and Cs, but she figured that was partly because of what Nathan had told him the very first day he’d met her brother. But Bailey couldn’t be upset, because it was obvious Joel knew what he was doing. He just preferred to do it his way, rather than the “official” way.

  “Okay, you want to learn something fun?” Nathan asked after they’d completed his homework, the small smile Bailey had come to love to see on his face.

  “Yeah!” Joel responded enthusiastically.

  “Okay. You know how to round, right?”

  Joel nodded. “Yup.”

  “So if I said you had three dollars and forty-eight cents, what is that rounded up?” Nathan tested the little boy.

  “Three fifty,” Joel said immediately.

  “Right. Rounding will come into play here in a little bit. But first, let’s say we all go out to eat and the bill comes to twenty-two dollars, and sixty-eight cents and Bailey wants to know how much tip to leave. She tells you she wants to leave fifteen percent. How do you figure out how much that is?”

  “Uh . . . ,” Joel said, his face scrunched up in what could only be called utter and complete confusion.

  “There’s an easy way to do it. Look,” Nathan said, writing the dollar amount on a piece of paper in front of him. Think back to base ten; it’s the same with money. There are ten tens in one hundred. And ten dimes in a dollar. With me?”

  “Uh-huh,” Joel said, his eyes fixed on the paper in front of Nathan.

  “Right, so when you look at this number, to find ten percent of it, all you have to do is move the decimal.”

  Bailey watched from the armchair she’d been sitting in reading a book, as Nathan’s hand moved over the paper, drawing an arrow to show Joel what he meant.

  “So what do you have?” Nathan asked Joel.

  Her brother studied the paper, then looked up at his idol. “Two dollars and twenty-six cents.”

  “Good. So you have two dollars and twenty-six cents. That’s ten percent. Now, don’t think too hard . . . what’s half of that?”

  Joel looked down at the paper again, counted on his fingers for a moment, and tentatively said, “One dollar and thirteen cents?”

  “Perfect!” Nathan exclaimed, startling both Joel and Bailey.

  “So what’s ten percent of twenty-two sixty-eight?” Nathan asked, pointing to the paper with the pencil again.

  “Two twenty-six.”

  “And half of that?”

  “One thirteen.”

  Nathan scribbled both numbers on the paper. “Now add those together.”

  Joel paused a beat, then said, “Three thirty-nine.”

  Bailey grinned. Jesus, Joel was a smart cookie.

  “That’s fifteen percent of twenty-two sixty-eight,” Nathan said with a smile, sitting back. “You can easily round it up to three forty to make it easier to leave the tip if you want. When you want to find a percentage, it’s easy to figure ten percent because all you have to do is move the decimal. Then you take half of that, and that’s five percent. You add them together, and you get fifteen. That’s what you would tell Bailey to leave as a tip.”

  Joel whipped his head around to look at his sister, and she bit her lip to keep her composure. If only she could’ve had a teacher like Nathan when she was younger. School might not have been quite so painful. The look in Joel’s eyes was one of absolute delight. As if Nathan had showed him a secret door that led straight onto the Millennium Falcon, and he could meet Luke Skywalker.

  “Bail! Did you see that?” he said breathily.

  “I did. Cool,” she told him, grinning.

  “Yeah, cool. Do another one!” Joel demanded of Nathan.

  Without a word, Nathan wrote another number on the paper in front of him. He walked through the math with Joel the same way he’d done earlier, and Joel picked it up even faster this time.

  When Joel had figured out fifteen percent, Nathan asked, “What if the service was really good and Bailey wanted to leave a twenty percent tip?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in question.

  Joel looked back down at the paper and chewed his lip. Several moments later he gave Nathan his answer with a confident smile.

  “How’d you get that answer?” Nathan asked.

  “Oh, it’s not right?” Joel asked, his shoulder slumping.

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t right, I just asked how you got to that number, buddy,” Nathan reassured him.

  “Well if ten percent is this,” Joel said, pointing to a set of numbers on the paper, “I just doubled it.”

  Nathan leaned down right into Joel’s space until their noses were almost touching, and whispered, “Ding, ding, ding. Exactly right! Good job!”

  The smile on Joel’s face could’ve lit up a room. “More. Give me more,” he demanded.

  Nathan humored him and wrote several more numbers on a piece of paper. “Start with those. I’m going to go and sit and chat with your sister since you obviously don’t need me anymore.”

  Joel didn’t even respond, lost in the joy of the numbers on the page, and leaned over the paper and started scribbling.

  Bailey watched Nathan push back from the chair and ruffle her brother’s hair before sauntering her way. He didn’t look different from the first time she’d seen him, but for some reason she found him more attractive now than she did a couple of months ago.

  His light-brown hair was messy from him running his hand through it, and he had a slight five o’clock shadow. The muscles in his arms flexed as he picked up a book from the side table where he’d dropped it earlier after he’d arrived. His long, lanky frame couldn’t compare to his brothers’, or to Donovan’s, but somehow that appealed to her more than she ever thought it would.

  Bailey had only seen him without a shirt once, and he’d obviously been embarrassed she’d seen him. He and Joel had been doing unscientific science experiments in the kitchen, combining one household item with another to see what would happen, then discussing why, and one of their concoctions had literally exploded. Not exploded as in fire and brimstone, but the liquid in the bowl had bubbled up forcefully and sprayed both Joel and Nathan. They’d laughed hysterically and declared the experiment a bust. Joel had gone to his room to change, but Nathan didn’t have anything to change into at her place, and she knew it would bug him to wear the dirty, damp shirt.

  So Bailey had offered him the extra-large T-shirt she usually slept in to wear until his shirt was dry. He’d accepted and closed himself in her bedroom to put the shirt on. Bailey had opened the door to tell him something—she didn’t remember now what it was—and had caught him reaching for the shirt.

  He had wide shoulders and a spattering of dark-brown hair on his chest. His waist was small, and he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. He didn’t have a six-pack, but Bailey could still clearly see the muscles in his stomach clench as they stood frozen staring at each other.

  Nathan had recovered first, flushing a dark pink and turning his back while at the same time pulling the shirt over his head. Bailey had apologized and shut the door quickly before retreating into the living room.

  It was more than obvious that Nathan wasn’t comfortable in his own skin, but from where Bailey was sitting, he had absolutely nothing to worry about. Oh, he didn’t look like a bodybuilder, but he wasn’t a beanpole either. It was getting harder and harder for her to keep her hands to herself whenever he was around, which was one reason she’d started sitting on the old, comfortable armchair instead of the small couch. It put Nathan out of reach so she
didn’t accidentally do something stupid, like leap on top of him and beg him to make love to her.

  She’d always enjoyed sex . . . well, at least before Donovan had started taking her whenever and however he wanted with no thought whatsoever to whether or not she was turned on, or even ready for him. Sex had been exciting at first. Donovan had shown her things she didn’t know were possible. He’d treated her as if he truly enjoyed her company. They’d laughed a lot in the bedroom. But the more he moved up in the gang, the rougher he got with her. As she’d gotten older, Bailey had slowly begun to realize that just because a man had sex with her didn’t mean he liked or respected her.

  It had been a long time for her, almost a year, since she’d been with a guy, and she was horny and frustrated. She didn’t want the kind of sex Donovan had forced on her, but craved the intimate connection sex forged between two people. Craved to feel the way she used to when she was naked with a man. Being around Nathan every day wasn’t helping her cravings. Neither was masturbating almost every evening either.

  “Good book?” he asked quietly as he sat on the end of the couch with his own.

  Bailey shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  That was another thing. Nathan had taken Joel to the library one afternoon and had gotten him his own library card. Now, instead of playing video games every night, more often than not he was reading science-fiction graphic novels. Since Bailey was the one who took him to return the ones he’d read and get new ones, she picked up a card for herself and learned that she actually enjoyed reading now that it wasn’t mandatory and that she didn’t have to write an essay on everything she’d read, like she’d had to do in high school.

  “Thanks for helping Joel,” she said quietly. “Whenever I used to try to help him, I just confused him more. School’s not my thing.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Bailey,” Nathan told her, his intense eyes not leaving hers. “There’s more to life than knowing how to conjugate a verb or take the square root of a prime number.”

  “Since I have no idea how to do either of those, I’ll have to take your word for it,” Bailey joked.

  “Don’t,” Nathan said, not smiling at her attempt at levity.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t put yourself down. I like you exactly how you are. You don’t need to have a ton of degrees on your wall or know how to calculate estimated quarterly tax or know the difference between MLA and APA formatting to be a good person.”

  “It’s a good thing,” she mumbled, looking down at the pages of the book in her hands, not seeing the words.

  “Bailey.”

  It was just her name, but she knew it meant Nathan wanted her to look at him. She raised her eyes to his.

  “Everyone has things they’re good at. Just because we’re good at different things doesn’t mean those things are better or worse than each other.”

  “I know,” Bailey whispered.

  “Do you?”

  She nodded without speaking.

  “I don’t think you do. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re uncomfortable around Grace and Alexis when we’ve hung out together.”

  “Grace is so ladylike,” Bailey told Nathan. “She knows exactly which fork to use with which meal. She’s quiet and dignified. And Alexis is outgoing, and when Blake teases her, she gives it right back to him. She’s not afraid of him, or of anyone. I’m in awe of your family, Nathan. I know you’ve told me a hundred times, but I can’t help but feel as if they’re out of my league.”

  “How about some video-game time, buddy? I need to talk to your sister,” Nathan said to Joel loudly, not taking his eyes off Bailey.

  “Can I take these math problems with me and finish them first?” Joel asked.

  “Of course. Make sure you clean off the table before you go, though,” Nathan reminded him.

  Bailey closed her eyes at the longing that swept through her. Ever since Nathan had started hanging out at her place in the evenings, he’d started acting more like a father to Joel than a friend. No, that wasn’t quite right. Not a father—more of a mentor. If Joel would slip and say something inappropriate to her or in general, Nathan would clear his throat and look at Joel meaningfully, and her brother would blush and apologize.

  He’d help him with his homework, and encourage him to assist in making dinner and to clean up afterward. Joel had even started helping to do things like take out the trash and carry in bags without having to be nagged to death first.

  Nathan was good for him. Hell, Nathan was good for both of them. And Bailey wanted him. But she had no idea how to let him know that she’d changed her mind about them only being friends. She didn’t want him to see the awful tattoo on her back, but figured if she kept the lights low, or off, and they only made love in the missionary position, she could probably get away with it.

  It was scary that she was even thinking about having sex with Nathan, but the more she got to know him, the more she wanted him. She was wet even now, just thinking about him kissing her and putting his lips on her body.

  Bailey watched absently as Joel gathered up his books and papers and put all but one piece of paper into his backpack. He then brought it to the front door and placed it against the wall, ready to grab in the morning.

  “Good night, buddy,” Nathan called as Joel headed for his room.

  “Night, Nathan,” he returned.

  “Forty minutes,” Bailey told him. “Then bed.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good night,” Bailey called as he went down the short hall.

  He didn’t respond, and she heard the door to the bathroom shut. She looked back over at Nathan.

  “Come here, Bailey,” he ordered gently.

  She didn’t trust herself not to jump him if she was sitting next to him, especially considering she’d finally admitted to herself that she wanted him, so Bailey shook her head and said, “I’m comfortable here.”

  “Come here,” Nathan repeated sternly.

  She shivered. To look at him, you wouldn’t think he could be very forceful. But Nathan had obviously picked up some alpha tendencies from his brothers, because there was no doubt if she refused, he’d simply come over to where she was, pick her up, and make her move. He would never hurt her or force her to do anything she really didn’t want to do, but he had no problem encouraging her to do what he wanted in some cases. Like now.

  “Fine,” she grumped. She uncurled her legs, took the few steps over to the couch, and flopped down.

  Without delay, he pulled her into him. He curled his arm around her shoulders and put his hand on her bent knees. It was their usual position when they sat together on the couch. Her head resting on his shoulder, arms curled up between their bodies, her legs drawn up so one rested on his thigh. It was extremely comfortable, and she’d gotten used to being with him like this. Not once had he crossed the line between friends to put pressure on her for more.

  But tonight, Bailey wanted more. Oh, how she wanted more. She inhaled deeply, bringing his scent into her lungs. Clean. Fresh. And all Nathan. She hadn’t realized until she’d started hanging out with him that a man’s scent could be a turn-on.

  Donovan hadn’t cared that much about his personal grooming, because whenever he wanted sex, he didn’t seduce a woman or try to entice her into his bed; he just ordered her there. He usually smelled like sweat, cigarette smoke, booze, or weed. Personal hygiene wasn’t something he ever worried about.

  But Nathan. God. Bailey took another deep breath, loving whatever aftershave he used. Bailey felt her nipples contract, and she squirmed next to him.

  Without a word, Nathan reached over, grabbed the remote, and clicked on the TV. He adjusted the volume so it was loud enough to mask their conversation from Joel, but not loud enough to bother him or make him come out of his room to investigate.

  God, he was so considerate. Bailey knew he’d done it without a second thought too. That made it even more awesome.

  As if their conversation five m
inutes ago hadn’t been interrupted, Nathan took up where she left off. “For the hundredth time, you are not out of Grace’s, Alexis’s, or my league, Bailey. Jesus, me and my brothers grew up getting the shit knocked out of us and were known as the white-trash Anderson boys. You want to know why Grace is so ladylike?”

  Without waiting for her response, he continued. “Because her mother and father emotionally abused her. They made sure she was proper at all times—when eating, what she wore, who her friends were—she wasn’t allowed to do anything without their knowledge. It was hell for her, and she didn’t break free until Logan came back into her life.”

  Bailey inhaled and bit her lip. She hadn’t known. Now she felt awful.

  “And Alexis is the way she is because it is the way she is. Her parents are wonderful, her brother is great, and she has a naturally sunny outlook to life. That took a hit when she was almost buried alive, but Blake has helped her find herself again.”

  He continued relentlessly. “You are amazing, Bailey. You had a tough upbringing, lost your parents young. But when push came to shove, you chose your brother over yourself. I know it hasn’t been easy, but you’ve persevered. You earned all of our everlasting gratitude when you rescued Grace and my nephews last month.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” Bailey whispered. “It wasn’t like I was going to ignore her when she called.”

  “It’s not a big deal to you,” Nathan countered. “But when Logan heard she had a flat tire on the interstate with Ace and Nate in the car with her, and she couldn’t get ahold of him . . . it’s huge.”

  “It was just a tire change,” Bailey protested.

  “No. It wasn’t. Logan’s wife was stranded on the side of the road with cars zooming past her at eighty miles an hour. His kids were in the car, and she was scared. You dropped everything, left work early, drove twenty miles out of your way, and not only changed her tire, but followed her to the next exit and service station. You browbeat the mechanics when they tried to overcharge her to fix her flat, then you made them let you supervise putting it back on her car. It wasn’t nothing.”