Call You Mine

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Call You Mine Page 22

by Claudia Burgoa


  Her melodic moans get louder as I lick her and nibble her clit.

  “Faster,” she orders.

  I want to continue with the pace, but I can’t wait any longer. As the seconds pass, I get harder and harder. It’s when I feel her inside walls squeezing my fingers that I lose control and thrust faster, lick faster, suck harder.

  “Beac, now, please,” she moans my name, and it’s close to an angelical sound.

  I stand up, push down my pants, and reach for the condom fast. I unwrap it, cover my length, and kneel between her legs.

  I lean forward, pressing my cock against her entrance, and slowly enter her. Inch by inch. The warmth enveloping me fogs my mind, and I thrust myself deep inside her. I crush my mouth against hers as I roll my hips in and out. We find a rhythm. It’s nothing like what we’ve played before, but it’s so perfect.

  There’s chaos, calm, fire, thunder. Everything inside us is in flames.

  We burn.

  We melt.

  We fuse.

  The sound of our hearts finally colliding against each other is the culmination of a sonata I never thought we’d compose.

  “Gracie,” I groan her name as she bites my shoulder. “I fucking love you so much. I doubt I’ll ever let you go.”

  “Promise you won’t do it again.” Her voice is so small, fragile.

  “Never, baby. I—never again,” I repeat her words as I hold on to her.

  My lifeline, my music.

  My everything.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Grace

  The next morning, I wake up next to Beacon. Our arms, legs, and bodies are tangled with each other. I’m tucked safely next to him. My head rests on his chest. The thump of his heart is steady. Mine beats at the same rhythm. Who knew there could be a calm like the one we’re sharing?

  Last night I felt like we traveled to a far-away galaxy. One where only we belong. I trace the lyrics on his chest. They go along with the notes of “Call You Mine.” It’s Too Far from Grace’s biggest hit. One of my favorite songs.

  Beacon is a poet. His lyrics always hit right to the heart. I never looked into them closely, but as the song plays along in my head, I feel the heartbreak, his pain.

  His fingers catch mine. “What are you doing?”

  “This song…who is it about?”

  He kisses the tips of my fingers. His focus is on the tattoo.

  “Beac?”

  “All my songs are about you, Grace,” he answers.

  I close my eyes because it’s obvious that I wasn’t the only one in pain, and maybe he hurt for longer than I did. He never stopped loving me. Did I stop loving him?

  What if that’s why I couldn’t be with anyone else?

  I had my Beacon already.

  “Forgive me,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to wound you but to make sure you were cared for.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. We were too young. It wasn’t an easy choice.” I kiss his chest, then his heart.

  He pulls me toward him and says, “Why are you sad, gorgeous girl?”

  “You hurt, and no one was there for you to make it better.”

  “Being with you makes it better—always,” he assures me. “Call me a dreamer, but I always thought we’d find a way back to each other. Even if it happened in the afterlife.”

  “You’d have waited that long for me?”

  “An eternity,” he whispers, his lips caressing my jaw. “I think I’ve belonged to you since before I was born. Not sure if that’s even possible. If anything, I know that one day, you cut all the way down to my soul, grabbed my heart, and kept it.”

  I lie on top of his chest. Our gazes are locked with each other’s. His hands cup my face. “I love you.”

  “That song is wrong.”

  He laughs, “Really?”

  “I don’t think you ever lost me, or let me go,” I explain to him, as my lips dust kisses on his torso. “No, we just pretended for years that we weren’t together. I can see it now.”

  “You do, huh?”

  “I love you, Beac. More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

  I feel his length harden, growing, reaching toward my center. I slide my body down, position myself, and moan as he fills me all the way inside. Being with this man, sharing this moment, and loving him is the best feeling in the world.

  “I saw you’re subleasing the house already,” Pierce says while we’re cleaning up the kitchen.

  The chore board doesn’t care if these guys have a meeting or are wearing a suit. If it’s their turn to cook, clean, or wash dishes, they do it.

  “What?” I ask, confused, as I dry my hands.

  “I went out for a run and I saw a couple of men coming out of the house,” he answers.

  “It could be my brother, a cousin…” I pause, shrugging. “It’s hard to tell.”

  “Would they come in without telling you?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Before Beacon had a place here, we always crashed at Tucker’s,” I answer, trying not to lie more. “Remember that time you flew to Seattle and Beacon just handed you the keys to his house? It’s the same.”

  It’s true that we never ask to go to each other’s vacation homes—not that I own one.

  “Well, if you’re ever in Colorado, you can crash in my apartment,” Leyla informs me.

  Pierce frowns. “You still have it?”

  “I told you last week,” she says. “We should go to Colorado to get that packed. I need my books. You said, ‘Let’s save the days we have left for when this is over. Maybe we should keep it so we don’t have to stay in a hotel.’”

  Pierce yawns. “I’m sleep deprived.”

  Since it’s time for me to take charge of Arden and Carter, I ask, “Where’s Carter?”

  “He’s in the nursery,” Leyla answers. “My son likes to nap during the day so he can save all his energy to stay awake all night long.”

  We all laugh.

  “I remember Arden doing the same,” Mills adds, staring at his son who is playing in the living room. “It goes away as they get older.”

  “It does?” I smirk and look at Beacon. “Yet, you still have it.”

  Henry high fives me. “Keep this one around.”

  Beacon puts his arm around me and hugs me tight. “I plan on it.”

  Everyone leaves for work, except Mills, who gives me a list with Arden’s schedule.

  “He has a schedule?” I stare at it. “Lucky me, it doesn’t have hockey practice at five.”

  “We’d need the ice arena to be finished. That’s not happening until April,” he says.

  “You’re building an arena?”

  He nods. “It’s the first step. I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to play again. The Orcas released me from my contract.”

  “Just buy the team with the money you receive from the inheritance,” I joke. “Then you can do whatever you want, even move them to Portland.”

  He frowns. I’ve seen that look. Beacon has it every time I joke, and he thinks I just solved world hunger.

  “It’s something to consider,” he says.

  “Do you want me to teach him how to play music while I’m here?”

  “He’s too young to understand.”

  “It’s more like an introduction,” I amend. “We could always start speaking to him in French.”

  He looks at me and smiles. “As long as you don’t teach him how to conjugate the word fuck, I’m fine.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? Because last year Pierce taught him how to say, ‘What the fuck’ and the kid says it more often than I’d like to listen to it.”

  “It’s ‘Du’fu,’” I correct him. “Probably French, for you don’t make sense.”

  He shakes his head and waves at Arden. “I’m leaving, sport. Be nice to Aunt Grace.”

  “G!” he exclaims, pointing at me.

  “Okay, buddy, let’s get to work. We have a full day with activities that include bubb
le making, finger painting, and most importantly, nap time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Beacon

  In my line of work, a day is a long time. A week can be considered a year. One can plan an entire operation in a week. It’s been almost three weeks since the Vance incident. We still have a team searching for his old unit.

  Do I want to kill my brother for calling his ex?

  Sure, but Grace forbade me from doing it. She said it’s my fault for being careless when I showed her the security room—or what she loves to call my game room.

  Is she right?

  I prefer not to dwell on that small detail. The woman is always right.

  Baker’s Creek was secured when I came to live here full time. It’s just a precaution. As the boss always says, we wipe our tracks, but we have to be careful.

  It’s dinnertime when my phone rings. Sophia glares at me. I ignore it, but it rings again.

  “It might be important,” I say.

  “We have a rule.”

  The phone rings again, and this time it’s Grace’s phone. “It is an emergency,” she declares, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

  She shows it to me. The screen has a picture of Seth.

  “Hey, little brother.”

  Her eyes open wide, she nods. “Dad’s with you?” There is another nod. She looks at me and sighs. “Let me transfer you to Beacon.”

  “Yeah?”

  “These guys are idiots,” he states.

  “Who?” I stand up from the table and go to my room.

  “Vance’s people,” he answers.

  Speaking of the idiot, I’m about to close the door when I notice my brother right behind me. I let him inside. Once the call is over, I might have to talk to him.

  “What did they do?”

  “Talk about a job gone wrong,” he states. “They tried to play a cartel and get away with the drugs and the money.”

  “You don’t fuck with those guys unless you plan on killing them,” I state. So, they’re not our problem anymore. Unless… “Does it matter?”

  “It wouldn’t,” he pauses, “if two of my guys weren’t held captive along with them.”

  I run a hand through my hair as I pace along my room. “Fuck!”

  “Yep, fuck is about right. We have the blueprints of the ranch. If you come along with your team, we might be able to rescue them tonight.”

  “Where are you?”

  “On a plane. I should be in Portland soon. I need you at the airport in thirty. My father is with me. He plans on staying in Baker’s Creek with a team, just in case.”

  “In case what?”

  “Bennett, Vance’s guy.” He grumbles something. “He isn’t with them. I haven’t been able to locate him.”

  I rub the back of my neck as I stare at my brother. “Are you serious?”

  “It’s like the earth swallowed him. They either killed him, or he’s somewhere searching for a way to get to Vance—and maybe the rest of the family,” he speculates. It’s a hypothesis, but we can’t take chances. Before I can think of what to do, he adds, “If you ask me, your family should move to the cabin, at least until everything is safe.”

  “If the lawyer catches us, this is over.”

  “If we don’t take precautions, their lives might be fucking over,” he concludes.

  I take a big sip of air and let it out slowly as I think of a solution. “I got a report earlier that Jerome Parrish is in town. I’ll have the guys bring him over.”

  “Get moving. I’ll meet you at the airport in thirty.”

  I send a message to everyone alerting them that we’re on the move, then request Mane to bring Jerome Parrish ASAP. When I finish, I go to my closet and pull out my armor. Vance patiently watches me as I dress. Once I’m ready, he says, “Pockets and a utility belt, wow. It’s like you’re Indiana Jones.”

  “Fuck off!”

  “Tell me what the fuck happened.”

  I stare at him, not sure how to deliver the news. Your guy might be dead or coming to kill you. Pick your poison.

  “Listen, I know shit is happening because your woman just jetted out of the house.” He glances at me. “And you were on an important call.”

  I sigh, hunch my shoulders, and tell him what we know. One of his hands rests on his waist while the other pinches the bridge of his nose. His eyes are closed. “I’m sorry. I promise to find out what happened to him.”

  “Unless he’s spying on us and trying to kill me?”

  I shake my head because I don’t like that option. That makes me want to leave Seth’s men behind and stay here to take care of my family. “If he were anywhere near, we’d know.”

  “He could be hiding anywhere. We can camp in zero-degree weather—without being detected. Even with all the security details you have around.”

  “You’ve noticed them?”

  He nods. “Just because I know what I’m looking for,” he explains. “They’re cautious enough to go undetected. So, what’s the plan?”

  I tilt my head toward the door, and we march to the downstairs area.

  “You going to a concert and didn’t tell me?” Pierce asks when he sees me.

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Listen, we have a problem. Grace and I have to leave immediately. We won’t be back until tomorrow—if we’re lucky.”

  “We need authorization from Jerome Parrish—in advance,” he claims.

  No, I don’t. It’d be so easy to just leave without telling them shit, but I have to. Mason Bradley is going to be here soon. He might evacuate them from the town—or at least shove them in my bunker.

  “He should be here soon. Then I’ll debrief you.”

  “He’s going to debrief us.” Henry chuckles. “Those are big words for my baby brother.”

  “I’d give you a comeback if I didn’t need to make sure your ass stays alive.”

  Henry goes pale. I love the man, but his timing is shitty. Suddenly, I feel everyone’s eyes on me.

  “What’s happening, kid?” Hayes asks.

  At that moment, Jerome steps into the house. He wears a cream trench coat and a matching colored hat that makes him look like Dick Tracy. Dude, the fifties are over. Grace and Mane are right behind him.

  “He was outside the house.”

  “I came to visit.” Jerome looks at all of us, taking off his hat. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

  “No. I need permission to leave the country, now. I won’t be back until tomorrow—or when things are back to normal.” I pause, look at everyone, and sigh before I explain what I can discuss with them.

  Jerome is pale, and he shakes his head when I finish telling them as much as I can of what’s happening. “That kind of work isn’t allowed in the will.”

  Pierce points at Vance. “For him, not for Beacon. I can fight you, and I will win, Parrish.”

  “Your father put that clause in because he didn’t want Vance to get hurt again. He hoped he’d retire,” Jerome explains. “I’m sure he’d feel the same about Beacon—he’s a kid.”

  No. I’m not a kid. When are these people going to stop seeing me as the toddler who got caught in the middle of the paparazzi storm with his father?

  Before I can protest, Pierce says, “I thought you and our father weren’t friends.”

  “We weren’t. I just know it.” Jerome uses a harsh voice. He studies me and sighs. “Two days. You have two days to do this, or this is over.”

  I grin. “I knew you were more than a stuffy suit.”

  My family is freaking out more than I anticipated. Bradley is going to make them shit their pants. I hate the choice I have to make, but I know it’s for the best. “Grace, if I ask you to stay with your father so you can keep an eye on them?” I look at my family, whose panicked faces are making me nervous.

  She glances at them and nods. “Count on it.”

  I pull her to me and kiss her hard. “Thank you.”

  Her hands hold my face, our eyes lock, and she says
, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Chapter Forty

  Grace

  Beacon leaves with most of his team, leaving me with some of Seth’s guys. I’m in charge until my father comes to take over. Dad texts me that he should be here soon with his team. I had no idea he was bringing what we call the originals with him. That’s Dad, his partners, and the team they’ve always worked with.

  Lang drives to Portland, where he’ll have access to the security room at Merkel’s corporate office. We only have so much time to move. My orders are to take care of the family. I message Beacon to get approval to move them. It’s easier to divide them and put them in places where no one would think they’ll be.

  Grace: Can I set them up in different locations?

  Beacon: What are you thinking?

  Grace: It’ll be best if we move them far from the house. I can set two men for each couple—or father and son.

  Beacon: That’s a good idea. Keep them calm, okay.

  Grace: Don’t worry about them.

  Beacon: Take care of yourself.

  Grace: Same. Love you.

  Beacon: Love you more.

  It doesn’t take much to convince them to leave the house. We use the underground tunnel that goes from the house to the outside of the property. It leads to a small shed Beacon had built close to a wooded area. There’s a well-illuminated trail leading to a back street where no one notices who comes or goes.

  “It makes me wonder if the kid ever used it to ditch us and we never knew about it,” Pierce growls as we walk through the hallway.

  “He wouldn’t do that,” Hayes assures him. “Plus, it is new. I’m sure he hasn’t been able to use it.”

  “Jerome Parrish will hand us our asses if he even suspects that Beacon left town at any point,” Henry concludes.

  Mills looks at me and smiles. I’m sure he knows more than he’ll tell his brothers.

 

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