“I didn’t hurt Skyla—physically.” My stomach knots up because I know damn well all that emotional damage has taken its toll.
“Nor will you.” He butts his shoulder into mine like a threat as he makes his way to Coop near the bar and they both dig a soda out of the mini fridge.
Wes heads my way, those forest green eyes pouring out their disdain for me. No matter which way I look these days, I’m getting hell from every side.
“What?” I bark out as I stab my pool stick in between my legs and lean on it.
“How’s the baby?” He glances to the floor a moment.
Wes is a good guy when he’s not downright wicked. He’s a damn good father, that’s for sure.
“Mal is doing great. Swing by tonight, spend some time with your daughter.”
Wes glances back to Logan and Coop before yanking me in by the shirt, the veins in his neck distended.
“I will swing by and spend time with my niece.” He gives me a firm shove. “Don’t ever say that again.” He swallows hard. “It’s too quiet.” He ticks his head toward the wall that divides us from Laken and Skyla. “On the warfront.”
I grab some cue chalk and screw it over the tip of my stick. “There is no war. We won last fall. Remember?” I hike a brow his way.
“You’re only fooling yourself if you think the enemy is going to let you stand proud, that shiny crown on your head, a throne for your treasonous ass.” A dull chuckle bounces from him. “You do realize complacency is a powerful aphrodisiac that’s taken down many a king. Don’t become one of them. Both of our eternal standings ride on it.”
Dudley comes to mind and my body breaks out into an instant sweat. I hate that in order to live I have to condemn him and his kind. It’s not right. Nobody deserves to be locked in damnation. Let the damned burn as they should, but leave the innocent beings out of it.
I glance to Wes. “This isn’t complacency.” I don’t bring up the Celestra I helped turn over to Raven’s Eye. I don’t like to think about them. “What you’ve failed to realize is the fact we’re right here, on Paragon, keeping an eye, an ear, and our souls on red alert. As much as it pains me, it’s damn brilliant we’re so intermeshed. I only wish…” I glance back to Logan and Coop who seem to be embroiled in a tactical conversation of their own.
“That Skyla didn’t think you were a pile of flaming crap?”
“Yes.” My eyes close for a moment. “Exactly that.”
Logan and Coop come back.
“New game,” Coop announces as he deconstructs the round Logan and I were deadlocked in. “Celestra versus the Fems?” He sheds an obnoxious grin my way. Coop’s got me by the balls and he knows it. But there’s no way I can risk him telling Skyla about my true motives. And Coop is expertly using this to his advantage. I’ve seen Laken pawing him lately as much as I’ve seen her touch Wesley.
“As you wish.” I shed a brief smile his way. It could be worse. All Coop asks for is an all-access pass to the woman he loves. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Laken is still firmly tethered to Wes. And lucky for my brother, she’s actually having his kid on this go-round. With each passing day, it’s becoming apparent that Charlie belongs to Coop. And that is one biological time bomb I want nothing to do with.
Coop and Logan hustle as if they had money on the line. They kick Wes and me to the celestial curb, three different games, three different wins.
They take off to loot the mini fridge again and Wes slaps me on the back.
“They’re hungry. And you, my friend, are complacent.”
“And what about you? No responsibility from my teammate?”
“I might be on your team, but you, my brother, are the captain.”
He takes off and joins Logan and Coop.
Complacent. That word reverberates in my mind like a gong.
You know what they say. The head that wears the crown is heavy. And right about now, it feels as if it weighs a million damn pounds.
Back at the house, Chloe is downstairs looking like a zombie with her hair sitting on her head like a bird’s nest and large dark rings under her eyes. She’s wearing my sweatpants and an old dress shirt of mine with the front unbuttoned.
“You’re back,” she says, giving the bassinette near her a slight kick with her foot. The baby is screaming, so I head over and pick her up out of it. “I thought I could do it.” She sighs. “I tried feeding her, but my tits are begging me to saw them off instead. I don’t know how Skyla did it with two. But then, she had her boob-obsessed mother to guide her along. My mother suggested I hire a wet nurse.”
Crap. As much as I don’t care for Chloe, her mother seems to feel the same. It’s not a wonder how the apple that fell from her tree rotted so quickly.
She grunts, “I called Em. She’s on her way over.”
“Good. Is she bringing formula?” I try to rock the wailing infant in my arms. It’s amazing how much I can see traces of the boys, of Sage, in her delicate features. And the kicker is, I love her. I truly love this tiny being as if she were my own. I wasn’t expecting it, but it makes sense. I love Tobie, my sweet niece. Of course, I would love her sister. And I’m hoping that one day, Skyla will, too.
“Who the hell knows?” Chloe continues to moan. “I told her I’d pay her to take the kid for the next five years. And if she says no, I’ll give her to Lizbeth. That woman would pay me to take her for the next eighteen years.”
“No, Chloe. That’s not how this works.”
“It’s how it’s gonna work.” It comes out rife with attitude. “And no offense, but Wes totally took the reins with Tobie. You haven’t stepped up one bit.”
“That’s because you’ve been nursing her. I lack the proper equipment to take care of her in that department in the event you haven’t noticed.”
The tiny being hikes up the volume another notch and poor Mal’s voice sounds as if it’s rubbed raw. I try my best to bring her close to the warmth of my chest, hoping it’ll settle her.
“Do you lack the proper equipment in the bedroom?” Chloe doesn’t miss a beat. “Because I’m honestly starting to think so. We haven’t fucked since our wedding night. What the hell is wrong with you? Maybe it’s time I start probing Skyla about the arrangement the two of you had. Oh, wait, that must be why she had Logan and Dudley on standby. God knows you’re useless when it comes to satisfying your wife,” she seethes. “In fact, I might just ask if I can borrow Logan or Dudley. And the irony is, I’ve slept with both of them far more than I’ve slept with you. FYI: I’m a Celestra. My wounds from giving birth have already cleared up. I’m ready and raring to go in the event you ever figure out what that joystick in your jeans is for.” She picks up her phone. “On second thought, I’m going to ask Messenger right now about her celibate marriage.”
I head over and swipe the device from her hands.
A ripe anger begins to percolate in me, but I opt to bite my tongue rather than lash out. Chloe is exhausted. Her ability to control her temper has been ground down to nothing.
Her eyes flit like fire. “You’re afraid I’ll let Skyla in on our little limp secret, aren’t you? Newsflash, King, I’ve already hinted at it. If I’m not getting any satisfaction, then she might as well have it in knowing you don’t have the balls to bed your new wife.”
A knock erupts at the door before Em walks right in. A welcome relief, and yet I can’t get Chloe’s last few words out of my mind.
“Come here, you little cute shit.” Em takes the baby from me and hikes up her T-shirt, exposing me to her blinding white boob as she shoves it into the squirming baby’s mouth. And sure enough, Mal suckles away as if she hasn’t eaten in days and I’m suddenly alarmed that this might, in fact, be the case.
“Thank you, Emily,” I say, forcing myself to look away. In truth, I wanted to make sure Mal was okay before I did. “You do not have my permission to take the baby when you leave.” I glower over at Chloe. “Her mother is another matter.”
Chloe grunts as if I just
kicked her in the gut.
“You wish,” she hisses as I head for the stairs. “We will deal with this shit tonight, Oliver!” she shouts and her voice rattles the pictures on the wall on the second story—pictures of the two of us and the kids as we play the part of the perfect family.
Perfect storm is more like it.
What in the hell was I thinking dragging her into this mess? Yes, it pissed off Skyla and took her off my trail, but this is Chloe Bishop I’ve chosen to use as a pawn. It will not end well. I need a plan. I need something that will work. I need a freaking third body double that will take over my bedroom duties. Wesley has made it crystal clear that it won’t be him.
I hustle up to the butterfly room and slam the door shut behind me. “Rory,” I bark it out in a fury. “Get down here right now.” All of the anger pent up inside of me is enough to blow a hole through every wall on Paragon.
Rory materializes slowly into Skyla’s beautiful form as the butterflies dance and flutter around her, and for a brief moment in time, a perfect peace descends upon me. But that peace, just like every other thing in my life, is fleeting.
“Yes, my king?” She gives a hearty wink. “Of what service might I be to you this fine evening?” She steps forward and her cool fingers graze my cheek.
“I need help with Chloe.”
“What’s this? A lover’s quarrel?”
“That’s exactly what we’re quarrelling about.”
“I don’t care for Chloe. You put her in your bed. You deal with her.” She lifts her arms as if she were ready to leave in style, and I secure my hands over her wrists and reel her in against my chest.
“I put you in my bed, and that’s exactly why I have a problem brewing.”
“Chloe is a mare. I’m not interested in arousing her nasty side.”
“Every side is her nasty side.”
A dirty grin flirts on her lips and, my God, how I miss that dirty grin on Skyla and what inevitably came next was very, very dirty.
“Chloe is a means to an end for you, Gage. I understand this. Why don’t you understand this? Why in heaven’s name have you let her crawl under your skin this way?”
“I need to sleep with her.”
“So, do it. Close your eyes and think of handbags and all those other good things.”
“Great.” I avert my eyes. “I’ve got a comedian on my hands.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “Find me someone, a being, an entity, an animal for hell’s sake. I need them to morph into my likeness and do the deed for me.”
A curt laugh bubbles from her. “You are a king now, dare I remind you. And a benefit of being such is that you have legions of willing beings, entities, and animals at your disposal. Surely you can rustle up a little black magic and find someone suitable to tame your bride in the bedroom.”
“I can’t do it.” The words growl out of me as I head to the small round window that looks down over the front of the street—a view I used to dream of sharing with Skyla one day, and here I am with her enemy. And here I am her enemy. Shit. “I can’t trust them. Nobody can know about this.” Chloe and her threats come back to me. “It’s inevitable that Chloe will vomit up all the details if this goes on much longer. The baby was my best excuse, but she’s ready and willing now and my hands are tied.”
A dull laugh pumps from her as she glides her fingers down the front of my jeans. “That’s not all that’s tied. She’s seen what you’re packing and she wants a go-round on that nightstick of yours.”
“Chloe wouldn’t care if I had a one-inch stub. She’s so far gone with her affection for me.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong.”
I turn to face her and it hits me. “You’re right. Chloe’s loyalty ends at her bruised ego. And that’s exactly why I need this mess mopped up as soon as possible.” My hand rides along her svelte arm, such a stunning representation of my wife’s, my true wife.
Rory tips her head back. “She’ll be Logan’s wife soon,” she muses, curling her lips at the thought of reading my mind. “And she will be unstoppable.” She shrugs. “It’s a shame. I rather liked you.” Her finger traces my lips, and the urge to take her grows wild. “You do realize the only true way to stop my sister is to stop her beating heart. Without her—Celestra, the enemy doesn’t have the standing to combat you.”
“They have Ezrina. They have Logan.” I inch back, appraising her to try to figure out exactly what she’s thinking.
“They don’t qualify to take the reins. They couldn’t shut you down if they tried. Only Skyla, and/or only a child she and Logan create that garners a blessing from my mother and the Justice Alliance would be the next in line to claim her scepter.” She shakes her head woefully as her palm settles over my cheek softly. “Don’t you see? The only way to ensure you reign supreme until kingdom come is to make sure Skyla isn’t around to take it from you. Dear Gage—Chloe and her boiling libido isn’t the problem. It’s my sister.” She leans in, those luscious lips just inches from my own. “You must kill Skyla.” It comes out threadbare, a faint whisper from the dead, the stuff that nightmares are made of. Rory spews out a dozen different ways to dispose of her sister, and I shake my head at each and every one of them. The final plan being the most outlandish. “You must do this. The sooner, the better.”
“I’m not killing Skyla. And I’m not sleeping with Chloe.” I close my eyes and tip my head back because I am so thoroughly screwed.
“Then sleep with me.” Rory pulls me from my stupor as she lands her lips to mine.
But I’m not sleeping with Rory anymore either. Instead, I release myself from her presence, one molecule at a time until I’m in the butterfly room, the original one with Skyla lying naked on a bed of blankets, her eyes slit, already waiting for me.
My old self lowers over her and I fall into him, into me, and finally into Skyla.
And I enjoy one hell of a ride.
Those were the days.
And thanks to a little light driving, they will be again.
23
Logan
Paragon knows no seasons, but, alas, the marketing companies that rule the retail end of the island certainly do and we’ve been inundated with signs of fall everywhere. Pumpkin spice everything has dominated every store window, every coffee house, and the Gas Lab is certainly no exception.
Skyla has had a mad craving for donuts—which makes perfect sense because our baby girl will be exceptionally sweet. Suffice it to say, I’ve been making more than my fair share of donut runs.
Heathcliff has even made a few early morning deliveries to the house with a box of hot fresh glazed donuts that have made Skyla moan through every bite. Of course, that always inspires me to take her back to bed, sending the boys downstairs to have their own fill of the delicious treats while I make Skyla moan for me as I enjoy every delicious bite of the girl I love.
Skyla’s sexual needs have skyrocketed with each passing month of this pregnancy, and I don’t mind one bit meeting her glorious demands.
It’s the last Friday of August, and another thing that store windows and every media outlet is reminding us is the fact that it’s back-to-school time. Not only do Melissa and Mia start classes over at Host in a week, but Skyla finally caved to Emma’s demands and has enrolled the boys in preschool at the baby conglomerate Emma, herself, owns and runs. She runs the island’s biggest daycare, which also includes preschool all the way up to kindergarten. It’s where I went, where Gage went, where almost everyone I know started off their less-than-stellar scholastic careers.
This year Nathan and Barron, every Landon tot that qualifies, and let’s not forget Tobie, have been enrolled. Nathan and Barron are specifically in the class for three-year-olds, the Bear Cubs. Next year, they’ll officially be in pre-K Little Fishes. And then finally kindergarten, the Big Birds.
And that is exactly what brings us all to the Paragon Daycare, pre-K included! About a twenty-minute drive from the Landon house, the entire property sits on at least an acre o
f forestland. The evergreens flank the building that will be home away from home for the boys for the next few years. There are cutouts of bears all over the windows of their new room, and inside there’s a display of the alphabet running along the walls in a rainbow of colors. There are more toys, learning modalities, and children’s books than I’ve seen in one location, and the whole place holds the strange scent of cupcakes, Crayons, and paper. It’s a familiar scent that takes me right back to elementary school for some reason, and I feel a niggling of nostalgia growing deep in my belly.
Wes and Skyla are weepy-eyed, taking deep, meditative breaths every few seconds. Gage looks stunned, depressed, his new go-to look in general. Chloe didn’t show. Word on the street is that Emma had to move in with them to take care of Mally because Chloe all but gave the poor kid the finger. Apparently, Mally doesn’t sleep, or eat, or enjoy life in general. She sounds a lot like her mother, but I choose to keep the commentary to myself.
Ezrina has already determined she’s going to homeschool Alice for as long as she desires. I think she likes the company. Not to mention the fact Alice was hard-won—the product of a love hundreds of years in the making. It explains why Alice is constantly rooted to either Ezrina or Nev.
I think the same will happen to Angel, the baby Skyla and I are about to usher into this world. She was hard-won. The product of our love many, many years in the making. And in about two months, I’ll get to hold her in my arms.
But today is about the boys, and both Nathan and Barron look dapper in matching navy sweaters with the collar of their dress shirts peeking from underneath, jeans and tennis shoes that light up in electric blue dots with every step they take. I’m guessing Emma will ban those by the end of the day. Emma doesn’t care too much for distractions, but Skyla thought it would be fun to test her limits. And since Emma is here and Chloe is incompetent, Gage let me know that Kresley is being paid to nanny during the day. I don’t see why this should surprise anyone. It always takes two additional women to mother Chloe’s children.
All Hail the King (Celestra Forever After Book 6) Page 46